mmmmm'^m^m'imvMm'mtmmmiimaammmmiimwmm 
 
LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 NEW YORK STATE COLLEGE 
 
 OF HOME ECONOMICS 
 
 CORNELL UNIVERSITY 
 
 ITHACA, NEW YORK 
 
 
 ^■■}'J 
 
 
 ^ 
 kt 
 
 
 ii» 
 
 Gift of 
 
 College of Agriculture 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis bool< is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013729367 
 

o 
 y 
 
 UJ 
 
 z 
 o; 
 
 o 
 
THE COMPLETE HOME: 
 
 AN 
 
 Encycmpibia of Domestic Life ai Affm 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD, 
 
 IN ITS 
 
 Foundation, Order, Economy, Beauty, Healttafnlness, Emergencies, 
 
 Metliods, Cblldren, Lilteratnre, Amusements, Religion, 
 
 Friendships, Manners, Hospitality, Servants, 
 
 Industry, money, and History. 
 
 % iolunte of Irattkal (^^perimtes JPopkIg|Iktrateb. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. JULIA McNAIR WRIGHT. 
 
 '*0 fortunate, O happy day y 
 
 When a new household takes its birth. 
 And rolls on its harmonious way 
 Among the myriad homes of earth'' 
 
 —Longfellow. 
 
 J. C. McCURDY & CO.,- Publishers, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, PA., 
 CINCINNATI, O., CHICAGO, ILL., ST. LOUIS, MO. 
 

 Copyriglit, by JuLiA McNair Wright, 1879. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 |ETWEEN the Home set up in Eden, and tr YiKime before u» 
 in Eternity, stand the Homes of Earth in . long succession. 
 It is therefore important that our Homes should be brought 
 up to a standard in harmony with their origin and destiny. 
 Here are " Empire's primal Springs; " here are the Church 
 and State in embryo ; here all improvements and reforms must rise. 
 For national and social disasters, for moral and financial evils, the 
 cure begins in the Household. In no case could legislation and 
 commerce lead back a day of honesty and plenty, unless the Family 
 were their active co-worker. Where sou/s and bodies are nourished, 
 where fortunes are builded, and brains are trained, there must be 
 a focus of all moral and physical interests. 
 
 Is it true that marriages and American-born children are lessening? 
 Does the Family fail in fulfilling its Divine intention ? Why should 
 young men fear to marry, and by undue caution deprive themselves 
 of the joys and safeguards of domestic life? Why should young 
 women, having but little instruction in the duties, dangers and possi- 
 bilities of the married state, wed in haste, and make the future a long 
 regret ? Why, when the final step is taken, should the young pair 
 not know all that it is needful to know to secure their Home in its 
 integrity, that it may be happy, orderly and beautiful, that they 
 may know how to preserve health, train children, make, save and 
 spend money? The author hopes that this book may help answer 
 these questions. Every day has its full share of troubles, but, by 
 troubles well met, we grow stronger. We rise — 
 
 " By stepping stones 
 Of our de»d selves, to higher things.'' 
 
 How then shall the Home fulfill the great duty lying before it — the 
 duty of restoring confidence and energy, of eradicating evils, of 
 
 (3) 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 bringing much out of little, and affording to every Family in the 
 land an assumed competence? The answer to these questions, the 
 indication of the means of reaching an end so grand, will take hold 
 on Moral Principles an& their practical out-working. 
 
 This Book — the product of years of careful investigation, of actual 
 experiences, and of a profound veneration for the Divinely instituted 
 Home — undertakes to show how every sound man and woman may 
 safely marry, how every family may have a competence, how every 
 home may go on from good to better, and how each household may 
 be not only gladsome in itself, but a spring of strength and safety to 
 the country at large. 
 
 This book treats of the individual as set in Households : it regards 
 the household as a unit in its affections, aims, success. The rights, 
 duties, privileges, preferences of every member of the family are dis- 
 cussed. The Home itself, in its practical working, its food, clothing 
 and shelter, its earnings, savings and spendings, its amusements, 
 industries and culture, will be found faithfully portrayed. 
 
 There is no thought more beautiful and far-reaching than this of 
 the solidarity or oneness of the Family; here, man is indissolubly 
 bound to his fellows. The individual is solitary, but God setteth the 
 solitary in families. The stream of time is crowded with the ships of 
 Households, parents and children, youth and infancy, age with its 
 memories, childhood with its fancies, youth with its loves, maturity 
 with its cares. A beautiful picture represents such a life-scene. The 
 Household bound for the same eternity, trying the same fates. 
 
 " In Childhood's hour, with careless joy 
 Upon the stream we glide, 
 With Youth's bright hopes, we gayly speed. 
 To reach the other side. 
 
 " Manhood looks forth with careful eye. 
 Time steady plies the oar ; 
 While Old Age calmly waits to hear 
 The keel upon the shor* ." 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AunT SoPHRONiA — Her opinions — Her nieces — Offers of marriage — The Buildia;} 
 of a Home — Some modern misses' opinions — Have we capital enough to marry ? 
 — What is this capital ? — The rock on which the Home foundation rests — Whaf 
 is the Corner-Stone of Home ? — The need of good health to make a Home 
 happy — When young persons should resolve upon celibacy — Man builds hi? 
 Home from without, woman from within — Intimate knowledge of character 
 requisite to a safe engagement — Long and short engagements — What is more 
 important than a trousseau ? — A couple may marry on small means — Let there 
 be NO DEBTS — The necessity of some fixed means of making a livelihood — Thir 
 importance of a thorough knowledge of Housekeeping — No Home safe 
 without this — It is equal to a large cash capital — Thorough Housekeeping a 
 fine art — Economy — Micawber financiering — Capacity for self-denial — Begin 
 moderately — Value of knowing how to sew, make, mend, cut, fit — Burns' 
 house-mother — Excellence of culture — Need of good temper in the Home- 
 Home our Treasure House — Are two better than one ? — Look the future in the 
 face — Count the cost — Make no leap in the dark — A well-portioned Bride — 
 Two weddings — A Benediction on the Home 11-31 
 
 CHAPTER 11. ^ 
 OHDER — Time-Saving — A suitable age for marriage — What one should study-_ 
 When to study music or art — A young wife's studies — How to have time for 
 everything — A wedding gift — The great time-saver — Dangers of Disorder^ 
 How to manage work — Helen's domestic management — Is mistress or maid to 
 blame for disorder? — How a young woman arranged her work — Impoitant 
 hints on dress — A word on good I'lanners — A morning call — A new method 
 of sending clothes to the wash — When to mend clothes — How to wash lace 
 and embroidery— A disorderly house-mother — A place for everything — A 
 pleasant sitting-room — A window-garden — A well-arranged kitchen — How a 
 young woman can best economize in her kitchen — How to get time for charity 
 work — When to do the fall and spring sewing — The 'House-cleaning — Order 
 in individuals — Order in a farm-house — A model farmer's wife — Preparedness 
 for emergencies — Cousin Ann's method of doing her house-work — A time for 
 everything — A place for everything — The month, week, day, hour, minute for 
 various kinds of work — Don't crowd -vioxY — A daughter's best dowry. . .32-55 
 1 tv) 
 
Vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EcoKOMY — The Pounds and Pence — Ashamed of economy — How shall we begin 
 to economize ? — Reducing u servant's wages — Economy and charity — The 
 seamstress' view of hard times — How working-people should meet hard times — 
 Where people begin their economies — Servants and employers — Needjiil rise 
 and fall in wages — Fit expenses to your station in life — Don't blush at wearing 
 CALICO — What constitutes a lady ? — Rights of masters and employes — How to 
 meet a reduced income — The real cost of a new silk dress — Need and pride — 
 Pride a hard master — Little savings and little wasting^ — Losing a hundred 
 one-dollar bills — Paying for breakages — What servants have no right to expect 
 — Making-over dresses — Making-over neck-ties^ — To clean silk, velvet, and 
 merino — Economizing on the table — A soup relish — Cheese and parsley — 
 Ashamed of economy or ashamed of extravagance — Making the best of what 
 we have on hand — Aimless savings — What to do with old clothes — Ten dollars, 
 worth of clothes for one dollar — "Jumping in a bucket" — A genms for House- 
 keeping — A mother's meeting — Charity pays — Foreign economy — Ameri- 
 cans are extravagant — Why ? — Extravagance in coffee-making — Rich French- 
 men and poor Americans — Foreign Housekeeping — Saving in fuel — Buying 
 in littles — Keeping meats and vegetables sweet — Manner of keeping milk and 
 butter cool — Neatness in pantries — A home-made refrigerator — Charcoal, cold 
 water, and a bit of netting — Ammonia and plaster of Paris — A useful present — 
 Economy honorable 56-86 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 tHiLDREN — Their Rights and Liabilities — Position of children in a Home — 
 Variety in training — Mistakes of good people — When to begin training — 
 What is a child's first lesson ? — Teach a child patience — How to teach children 
 to cry softly — Noise — Quiet needful to young children — Causes of summer 
 diseases — Dangers in nurse-maids— rHow children are treated by maids — Dan- 
 gers of baby-carts — What to require in a nurse-maid — Don't burden your little 
 daughter — An over-worked child — What every mother should do for her own 
 child — Care of a babe's food — Frightening children — How to treat terror in a 
 child — English nurses — Teaching children engaging manners — Teach the child 
 to be generous — Errors and crimes — Obedience — Truth — Generosity — Respect 
 for authority — Early good habits — Common-sense — Worth of the will — Rules 
 and rights — Variety in penalty — Accidents — Teaching a boy to raise a dinner — 
 Clean speech — Truthfulness — Teasing — Firmness — A root of dishonesty — 
 "Mother! can't I go fishing?" — Teasing Anna — Care of a child's hair — 
 Developing a child's beauty — A handsome family — Elements of beauty — Clothe 
 children plainly — Answering children's questions — Encouraging a love of natu- 
 ral history — Mothers must read — Destructiveness and constructiveness — Obedi- 
 ence — Plato 87-117 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 biCKNESS AND WICKEDNESS — A grain of sense — Where diseases rise — Our bodies 
 should be cherished — Too much and too little physical culture — The care of 
 Household health woman's work — Why Mrs. Black'? family were ill — Use of 
 
CONTENTS. v:i 
 
 flannel —Thick shoes^Loose clothes — Exercise — Sunshine — A fine bed-room 
 and a healthful bed-room — Beauty and health — The housekeeper is the health- 
 keeper — Care of the garret — Care of the cellar — Cellar and parlor — Drains — 
 Danger of refuse suds — Spores of disease — The germ theory — Use of sal-soda 
 — Sink-pipes — Dangers of decay — House walls — Dish-cloths — Pot-closets — ■ 
 Cisterns — The eyes of Argus — How to have a healthful Home — A farm-home 
 scene — How shall we have healthy children ? — Dr. Guthrie on long life — Value 
 of good rules — Cousin Ann's tea-party — The sleep of children — A child's 
 food — When to eat — Care of a child's sight — Infant's toys — Care of a child's 
 feet — Care of beds — Exercise and play — Seats and pillows — Preventing curved 
 legs — Baths — Boys' sports — What is proper for girls — Nursing the sick — Helpless 
 women — Choosing a, sick-room — How to furnish it — Value of a fire-place^ 
 Escaping infection — Manufacturing conveniences for a sick-room — Make it 
 cheerful — Making a closet — A model nurse — Her dress — Her manners — Her 
 authority — Sympathy — A nurse's duties — Harmony between nurse and physician 
 — How to sweep-^How to put on coal — Morning cares — Too much medicine- 
 taking — Take care of the beginning of disease — A case in point — Another case^ 
 Never trifle with disease — Food for Invalids — A neatly served meal — How to 
 poach an egg — How to bake an apple — Have a sick-room note-book — Variety 
 — Forget nothing — Neatness — ^A beautiful dish — A Salad — Sal^id dressing- 
 Sandwiches — Tea relish — Best way of roasting meat — Sleeplessness— Sleep a 
 gift of God 118-149 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Home Adornment — Building the walls of Home — What finishes the wall — Good 
 taste— Beauty important in a Home — Cash value of beauty — How to ornament 
 a country Home — Children who love Home are inexpensive in habits — Why our 
 young folks often hate the farm — Secret of hard times — Where national wealth 
 lies — Farm-lands should be more productive — Fertility oi Palestine — Egypt — ■ 
 Chaldea — Why Cousin Ann's boys love the farm — Youth craves beauty — 
 Beauty is cheap — A good start in life — How children can create Home beauty 
 — Wonderful boys and a wonderful mother — How a Home increased in money 
 value — Hester a hoi^sekeeper — How a poor girl made her Home beautiful — 
 A beautiful western cabin — Good taste creative — How to find time for beauty 
 — Winter ornaments — Dining-table ornaments — Value of a tasteful table — A 
 centre-piece — Bouquets — A hanging lamp — How to arrange a table — Worth 
 of little things — Care of table-cloths — Always a way to get on — Trimming 
 dishes — Ornamenting a boiled tiam — Cold meat — Stewed meat — Serving boiled 
 ^ggs — Sandwiches — Costliness is not beauty — Fancy napkins — An ugly parlor^ 
 What is needful to a beautiful room — Beauty and eyesight — Care of the eyes — 
 How to escape colds — Preventing croup — Loftiness of beauty — Prime elements 
 of beauty — How to buy furniture and carpets — Make comfort an aim — Care of 
 furniture — Give children low seats — Do not crowd furniture — Let us help 
 others to find beauty — Children's rooms — Servants' rooms — Visiting the sick 
 and poor — An invalid's window — The power of beauty — An elegant screen- 
 Ornamenting glass — Painted windows — A beautiful basket — Home decora- 
 tions 150-170 
 
Viii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Industry in the Home — Books — A call from Miss Black — Finding something 
 to do — People and their work — Work a duty — A maiden lady of means finds 
 work — What Miss Black does — Helping servants — What ought girls to do ? — 
 Housework should be learned — Are you making Home happy ? — Duty of parents 
 to train children to industry — Home a centre of activity — A family well trained 
 — A habit, and an object — Well-directed industry — Making industry pay — We 
 should study our children — Working for the future — Give children a share in 
 work and profit — Boys' help in the house — A nice pair of lads — Work not an 
 end — What is the end ? — How work injures — Fierce work — Work of pride — 
 Work for the lazy— Fretting over work — Unsystematic work — Killed by fuss — 
 Rest in the evening — -Evening work — Sabbath rest — Holiday rest — Rest in 
 change of work — Disease from indolence — Vigor rises from labor — Saving and 
 earning — Escaping doctors' bills — Hire your seamstress — Getting a summer 
 seamstress — Two little children at work — Mischievous children — Work for a 
 small boy — Teaching boys a trade — Every girl's trade — Success from diligence 
 — Model family 171-191 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Literature in the Home — How to improve a Home — Homes and books — 
 Value of newspapers — A farmer's opinion of papers — An evening scene — On 
 a stock-farm — -Brought up on books — A favorite book — Scrap-books — Begin at 
 the beginning — Train for the future — An age of books — Hugh Miller's first 
 library — Dickens' first library — Child's books — Sabbath books — How children 
 are taught to love the Bible — Pilgrims' Progress — How to lead children on in 
 literature— Cultivating a love of science — What to read — We must and will 
 read — History— Biography — Travels — Explorations — Poetry — When to read 
 Milton and Shakespeare — Essays — Scientific reading — When to read novels — 
 What novels — The most valuable book — Reading in the line of our work — 
 What lawyers, doctors, and farmers should read — Fred's four scrap-books — 
 What Thomas and Belinda thought — A letter on what not to read —Good and 
 evil of the press — We never forget — Books form our habits of thought — Do 
 not read what lessens strength, or" robs of earnestness or reverence — Do not 
 read secular books on Sabbath — Do not read what you desire to hide — Do not 
 read from foolish curiosity — When to read — Saving moments — Books in 
 parlors — Reading saves from dissipation — Systematic reading — Morning and 
 evening reading — What to do Saturday evening — Reading and kitchen woik — 
 The benefit of a Literary Society — How to read — Rules for reading — Learn 
 what you can about authors — Study what you read— Don't be discouraged — 
 What Hugh Miller says — Dr. Guthiie's opinions — The morals of the Ice- 
 landers — Studious working people — Welsh workers — Seneca's remarks on 
 
 education — Choosing books for children — We must crowd out evil reading 
 
 No excuse for being without books — Lay up a book fund — A Home without 
 books 192-216 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Accidents in the Home — How to meet an accident — Presence of mind I>, 
 
 John Brown, of Edinburgh, on presence of mind — Value of this quality Ita 
 
CONTENTS. jj 
 
 elements — Instilling children with courage — Boys and bugs — Belinda at a 
 wedding — A mortifying act — A little girl's presence of mind — >"red and the 
 fire — Better to act than to scream — Cutting a blood-vessel — Screaming murder 
 — The child in the well — Martha's wisdom — Mentor's advice to Telemaque— . 
 A finger cut off — A burnt arm — A remedy for burns — Accidents by fire — 
 Careless use of kerosene — Of powder — A lesson — Care of lamps — Of fires — 
 Of ashes — Kindling-wood left on the stove — Clothes drying — Dangers of hot 
 ashes — Peter Stuyvesant's fire-law — Carelessness with matches — Insurance does 
 not cover loss — Fighting fire — Danger from falls — Glass or cinder in the eye 
 — A dog-bite — Sunstroke — A mad dog — Fear of horses — Child on fire — ^A 
 child choking — Choking on thimbles — Dye in cloth — Antidotes for poison — 
 Screaming and incapacity — Never frighten a child — Careless nurse.. .317-237 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Rbligion in the Family — He did not believe in religion — Morals and religion 
 — The state and religion — The Sabbath question — Religion the basis of laws — 
 Sanctity of the family — Family founded on the Bible — How the Bible approves 
 its origin — The family and the state — Religion and crime — Piety and pauperism 
 — Religion and independence — A family anniversary — Home-building fijr 
 eternity — Every-day religion — Why cultivate family piety — The comfort 'of 
 religion — The finest inheritance — Religion in Cousin Ann's Home — A Sabbath 
 well spent — Family worship — No unkind criticisms — An irreligious family; — 
 Helen's Sabbath instructions — Bunyan's Mr. Talkative — A church-going habit 
 — Religion while travelling — Citizenship in Heaven — Danger of late hours — 
 Parental vigilance" — The family guide-book — A word from Plato 238-261 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Hospitality in the Home — A garden of roses — The queen of social virtues—' 
 Varieties in hospitality — Ostentatious hospitality — Spasmodic — Nervous — Mrs. 
 Smalley's hospitality — Common-sense hospitality — Hospitality without apology 
 — Biblical hospitality — Selfish hospitality — Excessive hospitality — Elegant hos- 
 pitality — The right kind of hospitality — -A sewing society discussion — What 
 our minister said — Bible instances — Plainness in hospitality — Manners of 
 guests — As good as a sermon — A home view of hospitality — -A guest-room — 
 The mother's room — Abuse of hospitality — Mountain cabin — A western settler's 
 Home — Good Samaritan deeds — The poor — A remarkable instance — Valuable 
 thoughts — Decrease of hospitality — Old-time manners — A singular incident — 
 Choicest form of rural hospitality 262-282 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Friendships in the Home — Boys in the street — Dangerous playmates — A child 
 is a social animal — Responsibility of mothers — Gold, silver, and brass training 
 — Bringing Tom to order — Friends are a necessity of our nature — A young 
 girl's companion — Our minister's sermon on friendship — Sympathy in opinion* 
 -Dangers of evil company— Youth has strange grounds of. choice — Safety of 
 brothers — Country Homes — Entertain your son's friends — Mrs. Black's despair — 
 A wicked child — Mutual aid — Aunt Sophronia's party — Life-long friendships — 
 Grounds of friendship — Women's friendships — Men's friendships — Friendships 
 of men and women. , 283-J05 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ■ Value of Good Manners — How to learn good manners — Books on etiqnttt* 
 — Cash value of elegant manners — What Emerson says — Train early in good 
 manners — Little children's manners — Manliness of good manners — Advice to 
 a. boy — Good manners in conversation — Kindness creates courtesy — How to 
 teach children good manners — Dr. Guthrie on manners — French manners-^ 
 Manners to our servants — To our children — Life's small change — A polite 
 young man — Cousin Ann's rules — Virtue of reverence — Where taught — Man- 
 ners of the present age — Saucy literature — Why we exalt the past — A good 
 boy to his mother — Manners at meals — Farm-house tables — Take time for 
 meals — Children and company — Shy children — Forward childrert — Cultivate 
 children's manners — Old-fashioned courtesies — Politeness to mothers — What not 
 to do — Waiting on sisters — Be sincere — Be sympathetic— Be self- forgetful — 
 Be thoughtful — Cultivate conversation — Politeness the sum of littles — Home 
 deserves good manners — Be pleasant in the morning — Little sins — Be modest 
 — A model girl — Accept reproof kindly — Chesterfield's opinion — Courtesy the 
 flower of Home 306-331 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Methods of Doing Work — Causes of insanity — Insanity and over-work — Why 
 is there over-work ? — Religious insanity — Indolence and insanity — Over-work 
 and under-rest — Work is a blessing — Dangers of ignorance — Value of resting 
 ' — Needless work — Hard common-sense — The sewing machine — Saving hours — 
 Different ways of doing the same work — John Rocheford's story of pancakes — 
 How to get supper — Knowing how to do it— Fear of seeming lazy — We are 
 all a little mad ! — Reason applies to baking, boiling, and dish-washing — 
 Unfairly distributed work — Dr. Curwen's opinion — Rest by change of work — 
 Over-taxed house-mothers — Need of perfect quiet — Need of firmness — Sleep — 
 Food — Don't bear imaginary burdens — How to clean an oil-cloth — To clean off 
 rust — Cleaning knives — Shells for cleaning pots — Cleaning tins — Paper for 
 cleaning — Keeping a stove clean — Paper for glass cleaning — Care of silver — 
 . Care of iron utensils — How to clear off a table — How to wash dishes — How 
 to teach a servant — How to sweep a room — Care of carpets — Irving's Dutch 
 housewife — Let need form the rule — Washing — Babies cross on Monday ! — 
 Why we have broken-down women — Cleaning lace curtains — Excellent 
 recipes 332-359 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The Unity of the Home — The Home is a unit — A rope of sand — A false Home 
 — Dangers of secrets between man and wife — Oneness of aim — Inform children 
 of family affairs — Confidence between parents and children — " Women's 
 extravagance" — Helpmeet — A criminal's confession — A newspaper paragraph 
 — Concealment is criminal — The marriage service — The Doctor in " Stepping 
 Heavenward " — A deceived young man — Hiding purchases — Miriam's opinions 
 — Relations-in-law — Time an avenger — Mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law — 
 An Arab proverb — Need each family live alone? — Paying family debts — 
 Attention to the old and aged mother — A large family — A step-mother— 
 Excellent testimony — Dangers of partiality — Maiden aunts — Whittier's maide' 
 
CONTENTS. XI 
 
 aunt — A step-mother's position — Her duty — Her rights — Her disadvantages^ 
 Love and duty — False accusations — My cousin's step-mother — A motherless 
 family — A silly prejudice — Children's manners to each other — Unjust charges 
 — Quarrels — Miriam's children settling a family dispute — A loving family — 
 Keeping birth-days — Yearly holidays — Thanksgiving day — ^Jean Ingelow's 
 thought — Scriptural view — Responsibilities of parents — Law of rebound — 
 Wedding days — A thirtieth anniversary — A fine farm — Which is dearer, child 
 or grandchild ? 360-384 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 l"ilB Use and Abuse of Money in the Home — An argument between two 
 boys — Aunt Sophronia's decision — Money a means, not an end — The miser's 
 Ipve — Unlawful love of money — Evils caused by money-loving — Right love of 
 money — The good uf mone^ — All toil means money — Affectation of disdaining 
 money — Virtue and poverty — Crime and poverty — Extravagance among the 
 poor — Agur's prayer — A man not poor — Three great precepts — Cicero's precept 
 — ^Joubert's precept — Loi'd Bacon's precept — The Home's money basis — The 
 comfortable position for the Home — Economy a revenue — Economy and 
 meanness — Little savings — Two young housewives — Rules for getting rich — 
 What is it to be rich ? — What Astor got for his wealth — Four rules for money- 
 making — Which is the hardest ?— "Betsy Rourke's riches — Economy in poverty — 
 What a cook laid up — Worth trying — When not to save — A field for self- 
 denial — Setting out in life — Begin moderately — Living beyond our means — 
 What is extravagance ? — A portrait of extravagance — Know your income — 
 Mark expenses — Keep accounts — Washington and Wellington as account- 
 keepers — How to keep accounts — Value of persistency — Disastrous changes — 
 A farmer's wife — Slow and safe — A family experience — Debts shorten life — 
 Poverty is only relative — Making haste to be rich — Avoid illiberality — A hard 
 bargain is a bad bargain for the proposer — No mortgage on the farm — Give 
 the children toys — Don't begrudge flowers — Too much money given children 
 — False ideas — Worth of earned money — Monitions given to a boy. . .385-409 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 Attention to Dress — Belinda and her new gown — Do we think too much about 
 dress ? — The duty of thinking about dress — Authorities on dress — Certain odd 
 fashions — Belinda's views — Paul's precepts — Dressing the hair — ^Hearing a 
 sermon — How we think too much of dress — Selfishness in dress — The dressy 
 dauohter — Reason and common-sense in dress — Vast importance of dress — 
 Dress as it regards health, honesty, charity — We must think about dress — 
 Fashion tried by laws 6f common-sense — Ear-rings — Beauty of the ear — 
 Frizzes — The human head — How to care for the hair — How to dress it — The 
 hair in its Home appearance — Oriental and western fashions — High-heeled 
 boots — Their dangers — Affecting the spine — Injury to the eyes — Insanity — 
 Chinese and American absurdities — The mania for compression — The waist 
 — Evil effects of tight-lacing on the appearance — Artists and the natural figure 
 — Hindering a figure — Long trains — Modesty and immodesty in dress — Walk- 
 ing dresses — Great underlying principles — Dress as it adds to Home comfort 
 — Carelessness in dressing children in winter — An extravagant woman — An 
 
xii CONTENTS. 
 
 untidy woman — Dress and health — Under-flannels — Care of the feet — CoTet 
 the head — Lightness in dress — Fashions for children — Questions in buying 
 dress — Dress and honesty — Begging fine dress — Train children to honest judg- 
 ments about dress — Sumptuary laws — Curious laws on dress — Beauty and 
 taste in dress — Husbands, lovers and sons — -Few clothes, but good ones — 
 Rules of beauty — What dress suits large and small people — Colors for dark 
 and fair folks — Dress for small companies — For children's parties — For church 
 — Durable goods — Flowers as ornaments — Ribbons — Jewelry — Too splendid 
 articles 410-435 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Mistresses and Servants — Importance of a servant's position — The Home 
 reaches beyond itself — Inefficient servants — Creating paupers — Positive and 
 negative losses — In a family and not of it — The Home-tie for servants — The 
 common womanhood — Mrs. Black's expression — Miss Sophronia's opinion — 
 Frequent change of servants — Trusting our servants — Cultivating trustworthi- 
 ness — A model mistress — Good rules — An old proverb — A servant in distress 
 — A little love-story — Permit no negligence — No disobedience — Allowing visi- 
 tors — •" Followers " — Need of advice — Unjustly particular — The servant-girl's 
 guardian — What hiring a maid means — A brutal maid — A generous maid — 
 Servants' instruction — Their rooms — A grateful servant — Politeness — See that 
 children treat servants kindly — Kitchen conveniences — Good example and 
 good advice — A thrifty woman — Mending household linen — Be ruled by prin- 
 ciple — Encouragement — Incentive — Praise — Warnings — Good mistress, good 
 maid — Dangers of housekeepers' ignorance — A fashion of complaint— Keeping 
 too many servants — A new way of increasing efficiency — Decision— Care of 
 brooms^What a servant may be — My servant — A wise servant — Her library 
 — Martha contrives a filter — How to save sugar — Caring for servants' comfort 
 — Three maiden ladies — A widely extended charity 436-459 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ,A Young Man who Expects to Marry — A deep question — The secret of Home 
 happiness — Conscientiousness — A surprise party — The subject of the evening — 
 How to buy furniture — Buy for use — Kitchen furniture — Choice of furniture — 
 How to buy a carpet — Harmony in furnishing — How to study effect — A 
 compliment to a lady — How to make furniture — How to make a chair — A 
 table — A sofa — Window-curtains — Shades — Divans — How to make a bracket 
 — A toilette table — A lounge — How to make a paper-carpet — A French 
 author's view — How to maintain the happy Home — Care of furniture — How to 
 destroy a Home — How to discourage a man-=-How really happy 'children 
 played — Small ways of destroying Home — ^Courtesy in the happy Home- 
 Punctuality — A punctual housewife — Dinner to the minute — Keep calm tem- 
 pers — Have enough to eat — A proper family-table — Where we waste and save 
 — How NOT to cook beef — How to use cold meat — Cheap varieties of food — 
 Foresight in housekeeping — How to make a luncheon — Need of lunch — A 
 mid-day meal — A late supper — How to give a small dinner-party — How to set 
 the table — IIow to arrange the dining-room — The two chief elements of a 
 • dinner-party — Salad for fish — How to cook potatoes — Nuts and salt — Cabv 
 
CONTENTS. xiii 
 
 ness — Ease — No haste — Dinners without wines — Calculation — A model hoiise- 
 "irtfe — House-plants — Causes and treatment of their diseases — How to keep air 
 moist — Care of frosted plants — Let children share their cultivation — Music in 
 the Home — Reading aloud — What is good reading — The art of telling a story 
 well — Tale-telling at meals 460-483 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 AHHENT AND MEDIEVAL HoMES — A Christmas week — Christmas the Home 
 feast — ^The first form of the Home — Patriarchal life — Servants — The encamp- 
 ment — Their occupations — Diversions — Music — Dress — Jewels — Food — Prin- 
 cesses as cooks — Hospitality — The Classic Home — Description of Roman 
 house - - Fountains — Draperies — Heating — Ventilating — Draining — Ancient 
 family worship — Books — Slaves — Dress — A Roman dinner — The Roman 
 table — Cooking utensils — Family life — Holiday amusements — The successors of 
 Roman civilization — The Celt and his Home — Character of the Celts — Theit 
 places of worship — Beehive huts — Celtic cookery — How they buried their 
 dead — Saxons and their Homes — A Saxon tomb — Sources of information — 
 The Jews as architects — Saxon houses — The board — Fuel — Larder — Lights — 
 Tumblers — Saxon babies — Occupations — Amusements — Education — Guests — 
 Marriage relations — Our names for food — Bed-rooms — Parlors — Naughty 
 dames — Clothes as heirlooms — Early English furniture — Western cabins — 
 Indian wigwam , 484-5 1 ' 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 Model HoME-Plato's letter — The sanctity of marriage — Immortality of the Home 
 — Its divine origin — Bishop of Winchester on marriage — Building a house — 
 General principles — Position — Frame work — Place for bed-rooms and kitchen — 
 Chimneys — Closets — Beware of fires — Cisterns and filters — Open fires — Furnaces 
 — Color of walls — Paper — Color in furnishing — Decisive hues — The surround- 
 ings of a Home — Rustic furniture — Gardens — Convenient houses — Use of 
 Homes — Families — Too large families — Home comfort — Religion — Extension 
 of Home influence — Home blessing 512-532 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 Things that all should know — Soup-making and serving — Meats and their 
 cooking — Game — Fish — Frying and roasting — Vegetables — Cleaning and 
 cooking — Good recipes for — When to use — What to use — Made dishes — Side 
 dishe; — T-wo hundred ways to cook an egg — As many ways of cooking a 
 tomato — Cooking for ch'ldren — For the sick — Puddings — Cakes — Something to 
 please children- How to make candy — Desserts — How to clean and repair 
 clothes and furniture — Cleaning silk — Cloth — Furs — How to make household 
 linen last long — How to sew — How to make over old clothes — Very needful 
 recipes for bread, yeast — Gruel — Tea and coffee — How to save — Poisons and 
 their antidote — Fits and fainting — How to meet accidents — Hysteria — Care of 
 children — Amusements in the Home — Safe games — Exercise — Gardening — 
 Drains and sewers — Care and cure of diphtheria — Gas and gas poisoning- 
 Plumbing — Smoke-houses — Cellars — Management — Economy 533-573 
 
The Complete ■ Home. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE FOUNDATION OF A HOME. 
 
 |UR AUNT SOPHRONIA lives in one of our inland 
 towns. She is the relative of many of the townspeople 
 — ^the Oracle of all. Firmly intrenched in her own 
 opinions, and more than usually self-complacent, she is 
 yet ready to give other people their due ; her ideas are broad 
 and sound, and she is no doubt a great blessing to our com- 
 munity. An indefatigable diarist, she has for many years 
 recorded the best of what she thinks and learns on her favorite 
 theme — the home. These journals being too voluminous, and 
 too full of private affairs, to present bodily to the public, she has 
 at our earnest solicitation reproduced part of them topically, 
 and with a happy facility in discussing her subject from the 
 beginning. — J. M. N. W. 
 
 Aunt Sophronia discusses, First — 
 
 THE CAPITAL UPON WHICH TO MARRY. 
 
 It will be a long day before I call myself old, simply because 
 I don't feel old, and I have been much too busy in my life to have 
 time to grow old ; but these three girls, who were babes in my 
 arms when I was woman-grown, are women now, and talking 
 
 (11) 
 
i2 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 of marrying — at least the two elder ones. I suppose they have 
 been going on, while I have stood still ! At least so it looks to 
 me, as it does to people riding on fast trains, as if all the world 
 were moving and they themselves stationary ! The three girls 
 are my three nieces: Miriam I brought up; Helen was brought 
 up by her grandmother ; and Hester came up as she chose, as 
 her mother, my sister, died when the child was ten, and John 
 Rochedale, her father, says, he " thinks every individuality ought 
 to be left to develop on its own line." Of all things ! If / had 
 married John Rochedale, as once seemed likely, instead of my 
 sister, he and I would have had some very serious differences 
 of opinion, this subject of " developing " being one of the many 
 whereon we don't agree. I am not particularly sorry that it was 
 Ellen instead of me who became Mrs. Rochedale ; not that I 
 object to the married state : I do not doubt that the Lord knew 
 what he was about when he set a married pair at housekeeping 
 in Eden ; but the single state has also its advantages, as Paul 
 saw. However most people who preach up " Paul on single- 
 blessedness " seem to forget that, in the Bible, our great Guide- 
 Book, the Lord's opinions for matrimony come a long ways 
 before Paul's for celibacy. I don't think that women should feel 
 that, merely because they are not wives, they have no place nor 
 work in the world, no home-life, no effect on coming genera- 
 tions ; and I don't think that women, who, for various reasons, 
 have not married, should set themselves up as holier or better 
 off than their married sisters. 
 
 I've given my nieces a deal of good advice, and among the 
 rest I've advised them to marry, if the matter came reasonably 
 to hand, without making it an object in life. 
 
 I saw well enough what Mark Rogers was coming to our 
 house so often for, and finally he called upon me, telling me he 
 wanted my consent to his marrying Miriam. 
 
 I have no objections to Mark. If I had, I should long ago 
 
THE FOUNDATION OF A HOME. J 3 
 
 have stopped his coming. I don't believe in putting off any 
 duty until its performance is useless. I told Mark that they had 
 my consent, provided they were not in too great haste about the 
 marriage. 
 
 "Pshaw!" cried the impatient Mark; "never mind the trous- 
 seau: what I want is Miriam." 
 
 I replied: "What you want, Mark, is a good wife, and what 
 Miriam wants is a good husband. The step you two contem- 
 plate is important, especially because it is final : if you make 
 mistakes now, you must bear their burden through your joint 
 lives. The preparation of the trousseau is the last thing now in 
 my mind: I should be sorry to have Miriam. at once .so engrossed 
 in dress and fineries, which in two years will be out of date, and 
 in twenty quite forgotten, that she will have no calm time for 
 consideration, and to prepare herself to face and solve problems 
 which shall be of the last importance, not only to herself, but 
 probably to many others." 
 
 I had some simple observations to make to my Miriam upon 
 the step which she contemplated taking, and I concluded that 
 my other two nieces might as well have the benefit of them, so 
 I invited them to tea. 
 
 Hester declined, and as she is scarcely sixteen, I reflected that 
 I should have plenty of time to advise her about matrimony ; 
 however, after tea, just as we had adjourned- to the piazza, over 
 came Hester. As usual, her splendid dark hair was carelessly 
 braided, and she had forgotten her necktie, pin and gloves ; she 
 swung her hat by the strings, her gingham dress had no fit, and 
 her shoes were too large. John Rochedale has a theory that 
 ■ the physical should be utterly untrammelled in its growth. I 
 don't know how his theory will turn out for Hester's health and 
 figure — at present she looks very slovenly. I have often been 
 vexed at the meanness of her attire. John is dreadfully stingy, 
 except in the matter of books and education. He thinks btain 
 
14 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 is the only thing worth spending money on. Since my sister 
 died, John, Hester, and a servant girl live alone in that large, 
 handsome, half-shut house. A splendid library and cabinets are 
 the centre of the whole. The servant is careless, John and 
 Hester up to their eyes in books, and at nights I see two solitary 
 lights, which show where the two are separately pursuing their 
 lonely studies. The library is open to Hester, and I think there 
 are plenty of books there that a young girl should not read ; but 
 John says, "There's no trash in it," and so Hester reads as she 
 likes. The only sense he has shown is to get her staid old men 
 for tutors. 
 
 Well, up came Hester just as we were seated. I must say she 
 walks like a queen. John is a blond man, and Hester is dark, 
 yet not at all like my sister. She seems a revival of some old 
 type long ago lost out of the Rochedales. I said to her : 
 
 " I thought you were not coming, Hester." 
 
 "Why," says she, "Mrs. was going to lecture-, and I 
 
 meant to go and hear her, when of all things my father declares 
 that it is not woman's sphere to lecture — that it is bold and 
 L'ldecent, and that I shall not go." 
 
 "Well, isn't he right?" asks Helen. 
 
 "Certainly not," returns Hester, with assurance. "If she 
 knows how to lecture, she has as much right as a man. The 
 question is, Can she lecture well ? There is no boldness in it if 
 she thinks of her theme and not of herself / shall speak in 
 public when I grow up. I shall be a lawyer like my father, and 
 then I must speak." 
 
 " What folly !" says Helen. "Then you'll never marry. Mir- 
 iam here is to marry Mark Rogers, and I shall marry, too; I'll 
 •take Frank Hand." 
 
 "How long beforr you will change your mind?" asked 
 iMiriam, reprovingly. 
 
 "I won't change; I must stop changing. Grandmother says 
 
THE FOUNDATION OF A HOME. 15 
 
 I'll go through the woods and pick up a crooked stick at last. 
 Suppose I don't marry? I have not enough to live on; I shall 
 get old, ugly and crabbed, and have nothing to do. Yes, I must 
 marry." 
 
 "If you marry on sUch grounds as those, Helen," I said, "you 
 will iind your lot worse than to be single." 
 
 "I thought Mr. Fitch was the man," said Hester. 
 
 " O, I was engaged to him for a week, and I w;ished him in 
 the bottom of the Red Sea all the while, so I broke it off And| 
 then there was Mr. Merry : I couldn't quite make up my mind 
 to take him ; and Tom Green I got tired of in two months." 
 
 "I should think you would be ashamed to treat people so 
 heartlessly," said Miriam. 
 
 "I should think you would be ashamed to treat yourself so\" 
 flamed Hester. "Do you think your affection and confidence 
 are of so small value as to be conferred and taken back like 
 penny toys ? Have you no respect for your own word, or your 
 own dignity? or are you just an animated lay-figure, with reason 
 and honor and emotions left out when you were made ? " 
 
 "You speak too harshly to your cousin, Hester," I said. 
 
 "Well, I kate a dunce!" cried she, so like John Rochedale. 
 
 Helen retorted with some spirit: "You, Hester, are so differ- 
 ent from what / think it is nice for a girl to be, that I should be 
 very sorry if you did like me." 
 
 "O, I like you well enough," said Hester, with her royal 
 indifference, "only I don't approve of you; but we'll get on 
 without quarrelling, as cousins should. And so, Miriam, you 
 are going to many Mark? Do you consent to that. Aunt 
 Sophronia?" 
 
 " Yes," I said ; " if Mark and Miriam have capital enough to 
 enter safely into the married state." 
 
 " I did not know you were so mercenary," said Helen. And 
 Miriam quite sadly said : " But we have no capital, aunt" 
 
|g THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " I will explain myself, girls," I added. " Let me first call to 
 your minds the Scripture, ' Which of you, intending to build a 
 tower, sitteth not down first and counteth the cost, whether he 
 have sufficient to finish it; lest haply after he hath laid the 
 foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold begin 
 to mock him, saying: This man began to build, and was not 
 able to finish.' 
 
 " Now, my children, if it is so important, and so customary for 
 those who build, or enter into any business enterprise, to count 
 the cost when failure will not be final — when, if they err, they 
 can retrieve themselves, or they can give up all, and be, at least, 
 the richer for the experience — is it not far more needful to count 
 the cost of such a step as marriage ? to consider whether you 
 have wherewith not only to lay the foundation but rear the 
 superstructure of a Home? Remember that the Home is an 
 institution of God himself; it is his ideal of the life of humanity; 
 upon it, as basis and model, he builds up nations. A Home is 
 not an isolated fragment of life : it is an integral part of society. 
 Every home has its influence, for good or evil, upon humanity at 
 large. Its sanctity, its honor, its importance, is the care of our 
 Creator. Tell me, girls, in thinking of marriage, how far have 
 you thought out the problem of your future ? " 
 
 " Why," says Helen, " I have thought of the eclat of the 
 engagement, and then the buying lots of things and having 
 them made up in the very latest style, and the cards, the cake, 
 the presents, and the bridesmaids. I shall have an elegant veil 
 and a white silk, and be married in church, and have three 
 Saratoga trunks, and a wedding trip, and — well, that's as far as 
 I've gone. I suppose after .that one boards at a hotel, or has to 
 go to housekeeping, and I'm afraid it would be dreadfully 
 humdrum. But no more so than flirting with one and another 
 year after year, and seeing all the girls married off" 
 
 " For my part," said Miriam, " I have not looked at all this 
 
THE FOUNDATION OF A- HOME. y. 
 
 Style and preparation that Helen describes, because I know I 
 cannot aftord it. But I have thought I should like a little home 
 all to myi.?lf, and I would keep it as nice as I could, and I 
 would try and help my husband on in the world, and we should 
 have thing-j finer only as we could really afford it. And I 
 should waiit my home to be very happy, so that all who 
 belonged iu it felt that it was the best place in all the world. 
 I should wyint to gather up all the good that I could every- 
 where, and bring it into my home, as the bee brings all its 
 spoils to its hive." 
 
 "And I," said Hester, " want to make myself a scholar, and I 
 shall marry a scholar, and we shall be happy in learning, and 
 in increasing knowledge. And he shall be my helper, and I 
 shall help him, and so together we shall climb to the top of the 
 tree." 
 
 Vanity, love, ambition. These were the three Graces, which, 
 incarnated in my nieces, sat on my piazza. I said to them ; 
 "Let me talk to you seriously upon the subject of a Home, 
 Two young people marry; they are united until death do them 
 part; their union is the beginning of the household; that house- 
 hold, in its first members, may last fifty or even seventy years ; ' 
 and whenever it is broken by the dea.;h of one or both of them, 
 it will most likely live on in other lives and other households, 
 which in it have found their origin. The household, then, starts 
 in wedded man and woman : the man is a part of society ; he has 
 his business in the world ; he goes among his fellows carrying 
 the atmosphere of his home with him ; his ideas of honor, of unsel- 
 fishness, his objects, his ambitions, his energies, his geniality, 
 his sympathy, his physical vigor, are largely derived from his 
 home; his acts are stamped with his feehngs; whether he ia 
 goaded to grasp all and trample on all by a mad thirst for gain, 
 or a wild effort to cover his expenses by his receipts — whether 
 he is happy or sorry, hopeful or discouraged, interested in good 
 
18 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 or evil things, depends largely on his home life. Thus the 
 various homes among men appear as active but invisible spirits 
 in all the departments of business life — with the preacher in the 
 pulpit, the doctor by his patient, the lawyer in the court, the 
 broker, the trader, the mechanic, the laborer, making or marringj 
 insensibly but effectively, in all that is undertaken in the world. 
 The wife is also a part of society : she has her friends, her social,' 
 church and philanthropic duties, sometimes even some business 
 of her own. Into these she brings her spirit as it is fashioned 
 in her home; if order, graciousness, good judgment, probity, 
 reign there, she goes forth a spirit of graciousness, or abides at 
 home a shining light to all who come there, teaching either by 
 precept or by silent example. She makes her home a fountain 
 of bitterness, or a well-spring of strength, bracing her husband's 
 good impulses, or developing his meaner instincts. She makes 
 her home a model of economy, beauty and propriety, or it is a 
 false light of extravagance, spurring others to waste, or it is a 
 head-quarters of misrule. 
 
 " Children are born in this home : they shall be in all their lives 
 what this home makes them ; they shall train up their future 
 children to be ennobled or warped, as here they learned; they 
 shall carry their energies and example into the world for better 
 Or worse, as here was taught them. The Home never dies ; guests 
 and servants come and go, and carry out its influences ; like the 
 souls in whom it began, like God its founder, it abides without 
 end. In this home children receive also their instruction : their 
 worldly occupations are chosen, and fortunes are laid up for 
 them: their moral character is determined. You see thus that 
 all the energies, the business, the industries, the inventions of the 
 world, have really their centre, their inception in the Home : it is 
 the world's animate heart. Erase all homes, all home life, ties, 
 needs, joys, and how long would the wheels of labor and com- 
 merce move on ? The inventor would drop his useless pursuits, 
 
THE FOUNDATION OF A HOME. j^ 
 
 the miner's toil would cease, the artisan would no longer ply his 
 useless tools, man would find himself without spur or object in 
 life. How important, then, is every Home ! what a tremendous 
 responsibility surrounds its founding ! how needful to count the 
 cost ! What have you in yourself of reserve force to make this 
 new home a root of blessing? Count the cost, whether you 
 have wherewith to lay a solid foundation and build a goodly 
 superstructure." 
 
 "Mercy!" cried Helen; "if I faced such responsibilities, I 
 should be frightened to death." 
 
 " Let us begin at the foundation," said Miriam ; " tell me, 
 what is the first thing needful in starting a home ? " 
 
 " The first thing," said I, " is sound moral principle. Let me 
 tell you that I do not believe there are impregnably good prin- 
 ciples that are not established on religion as a basis. The heart 
 is so deceitful, and temptations are so strong, that unless the 
 soul i^ braced with religion, principle is not secure of withstand- 
 ing the onset of the world, the flesh afld the devil. The true 
 ideal of the home, then, is its inception in two who are Chris- 
 tians, and who have a oneness of religious belief True, there 
 have been very happy homes where parents held different dog- 
 mas ; but now we are speaking of the best that can be brought 
 together for the founding of the model home, and we say first a 
 oneness of religious principle. Religious principle, which takes 
 the 'thus saith the Lord' as an ultimatum, is a family anchorage 
 not on shifting sands. The Divine Law is a court of appeal by 
 whose decisions all the household will abide, and thus, where 
 there is oneness of religious principle, the wedded pair have 
 confidence in and for^ach other; they have found a solid rock 
 stratum whereon to set up their new Home." 
 
 " Well, aunt," said Helen, " both Miriam and Mark are mem- 
 bers of the same church. Now I don't look at that in the light 
 that you do, and I shall not refuse Frank Hand because I am 
 % church-member and he is not.'' 
 
^0 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 "Why should you?" demanded Hester; "have, you ever in 
 iny way put yourself out for your church membership ? " 
 
 I hastened to forestall a dispute. "Yes," I said, " Mark and 
 Miriam have that oneness of rel> pious principle which I demand 
 as the foundation of a good home." 
 
 ^ " You are unromantic," said Helen ; " I should have thought 
 you would have said love came first. What an idea, for a man 
 and woman to set up a model home with love left out ! " 
 
 " If they have sound religious principle they will not marry 
 without love, because they will know that God demands deep 
 and abiding love in a married pair — love that will not grow cold 
 nor weary. Love that has no basis in religious principle will 
 often prove a passion, fleeting as night-shade blooms, leaving 
 only some seed of discontent. Those who have religious prin- 
 ciple, recognizing the sacredness and the lasting nature of the 
 marriage bond, will be very sure that they are not marrying for 
 whim, for passing fancy, or from motives of convenience, but 
 that they are really choosing from the world one whom they 
 love better than all the world, whom they can take for better 
 or worse, until death do them part. Therefore, having sound 
 religious principle as the rock-basis whereon to build, we lay in 
 loyal love the corner-stone of Home." 
 
 " Miriam,"-said Helen, mischievously, "have you that love?" 
 
 Hester came brusquely to the rescue. "As Miriam has not 
 frittered away her emotions in flirtations, as she has not shown 
 her low estimate of love by breaking two or three engagements, 
 we will believe that at twenty-two she knows her mind, and only 
 accepts a suitor to whom she gives a heart which she has care- 
 fully guarded as a thing of worth." 
 
 " Hester," I said, " young as you are, you are older than these 
 other girls in your opinions." 
 
 " I have lived with books and not wasted my time with silly 
 people," said Hester, scornfully. 
 
THE FOUNDATION OF A HOME. 21 
 
 " I'm afraid you are getting hard and cynical, my poor child," 
 t said;' "what will become of you !" 
 
 " Never mind me/' said Hester; "continue to instruct these 
 other two on the subject of a Home." 
 
 " Love so enduring and ardent as fits it to be the Home's cor, 
 ner-stone, must be the result of something more than a hasty 
 fancy : love should be built on sincere respect, and this should 
 arise from thorough acquaintance. This respecting love does 
 not claim the perfection of its object, because those worthy of 
 our heartiest and most admiring affection may have many faults; 
 but they are what may be called superficial faults — they are not 
 the crimes of falsehood, meanness, cruelty, self-serving or unfaith. 
 To have a proper groundwork for love in a thorough acquaint- 
 ance, young people should not rush into engagements after a 
 short intimacy, else in a little while longer they may discern 
 that there is no congeniality between them. Neither do I believe 
 in engagements formed between the vory yoiing. Young people 
 change so between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one, that they 
 can hardly be recognized as the same persons. Especially if 
 they are parted from each other during this period of changing 
 tastes, they will grow into great unlikeness : in ninety-nine cases 
 out of a hundred neither will become the ideal of the other, and 
 neither will prove to be that manner of persons which they were 
 once supposed to be by the other. Under these conditions the 
 engagement trammels them, and can only be productive of mis- 
 ery. I should say, then, let an acquaintance as long as possible, 
 or long enough to promote a thorough understanding of each 
 other's character, precede a matrimonial engagement." 
 
 "And then," interrupted Helen, "just long enough time to get 
 your trousseau in good order." 
 
 " Not so fast, my dear. I do not advocate what is called a 
 long- engagement, but not so short a one as a few weeks occupied 
 by shopping, dress-makers and milliners. I should want time 
 
22 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 enough for the young people to calmly lay their plans, furthei 
 count the cost of their new undertaking, and grow into greater 
 oneness of opinion and object. Life is full of trials and reverses; 
 constantly things are occurring to give love a rude shock, and 
 care should be had that the love is so well settled in knowledge 
 ind esteem, that it will deepen and not lessen by trials ; that it 
 will endure with patience; improve with time, like good wine; 
 that it will, like the morning and the path of the just, grow 
 brighter and brighter." 
 
 " I am afraid," laughed Helen, " that a few months engage- 
 ment would give me time to change my mind. I should see 
 my beloved's imperfections so clearly as to decline further 
 acquaintance." 
 
 " Better change your mind, if you change at all, before you are 
 aaarried than after, and get into a divorce court," said Hester. 
 
 " Why, Mi .s Lawyer, I supposed you were strong-minded, 
 &nd did not decrj' a divorce court," retorted Helen. 
 
 " I've a m!nd to shake you! "cried poor Hester, in a rage. 
 "A woman who has really strength of mind will be strong 
 enough to se'? that all that defies God's law is really weakness. 
 Divorce is wicked ; but no wonder it is frequent when so many 
 people jest at being variable and fickle." 
 
 " We interrupt aunt," said Miriam. " How shall true love 
 show itself in home-building ? " 
 
 " Love, like faith, shows itself by works : now what capital 
 have you in yourself wherewith to build up for your love a 
 worthy Home? -What material have you in yourself to enablfl 
 you to show your love? Love desires the happiness of its 
 object. What have you to ensure that happiness? My MiriarK 
 has ju?t said rather sadly that she and Mark have no capital 
 I think in this counting of the cost of the Home Building, 1 
 have just shown you that relig-ious principle whereon to build 
 is the first part of the capital needed, and Love as a corner 
 
THE FOUNDATION OF A HOME. 23 
 
 Stone comes next. Courage, then, Miriam ; possibly you may 
 discover that you are a larger capitalist than you thought' 
 Happiness is largely dependent upon health. Here one would 
 hesitate to lay down arbitrary rules, for there are so many 
 circumstances which alter cases: and yet, as health is so largely 
 a spring of happiness ; as sickness or constant feebleness brings 
 so much misery into homes ; and especially as so many diseases 
 are hereditary, and the unhealthful parent entails a physical 
 curse on his children to the third and fourth generation — I should 
 say, that where people know themselves the heritors of scrofulous 
 diseases — of insanity, or manias," or other hereditary ills — then 
 they would do well, early in their history, to choose for them- 
 selves a single life." 
 
 " But suppose a woman preferred to care for the last days of 
 one whom she loved ? " said Miriam. 
 
 "As I said, rules cannot suit every case," I replied. 
 
 " Pity that her affections should have been entangled by ond 
 who ought not to marry," said Hester. 
 
 " Yes ; because the sacrifice of herself may entail the life- 
 misery of her children," said Helen, soberly. 
 
 I continued . 
 
 "Is it very heroic or honorable for a feeble young man, 
 especially without capital to bequeath to a family, to marry, 
 and having been nursed and mourned over by his wife for a few 
 years, to die, leaving an impoverished widow, with several 
 sickly children? Would it not have been a nobler part for this 
 young man to control his expectations and desires, to accept 
 the lot which was laid upon him, to mingle only generally in 
 society, devoting himself especially to no one, and, bearing 
 his own burden, go out of the world glad of this at least, that he 
 had not made others sharers in his diseases ? " 
 
 " My father says," remarked Hester, " that this rule should 
 hold for those who have a love of alcohol, or who have kleptc 
 
24 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 mania. Who would wish to raise a family of thieves or of 
 drunkards ? " 
 
 " I think, on the whole," said Helen, " that more feeble girls 
 C:han young men marry, and that men are the ones who igno- 
 rantly or intentionally are deceived. It is not so, aunt ? Loot 
 it that side of the question." 
 
 "A young man making his way in the world finds the struggle 
 bard enough : how much harder is it when he marries some girl 
 (vho seems as healthful and happy as others, but who knows 
 herself that she has organic disease, some insidious madness 
 hanging over her, which, speedily developed by the cares and 
 burdens of life, keeps her a helpless invalid, entailing her mis- 
 eries on her children ? Such young folks would be likely to 
 live longer, and more comfortably, and surely with less anxiety, 
 and less cause of self-reproach, if they had remained single. 
 Friendships, activities, social pleasures, and philanthropies were 
 open to them, wherein they might serve God and humanity. It 
 ii. a vile selfishness to marry merely to be taken care of! So. 
 Miriam, as you and Mark are, so far as you both have experi- 
 ence of yourselves, sound in body and in mind, you have at once 
 a very large portion of that capital needful for upbuilding a 
 happy and long-enduring Home.'' 
 
 " Thanks to you, aunt, who have prepared me to meet life 
 courageously in my new Home." 
 
 "That Home, Miriam, you are to build up within, while Mark 
 buildb without. On his part is needed business knowledge and 
 ability in whatever line of life he has chosen, and sonne settled 
 line of life already entered upon. A man has a right to ask a 
 woman to share humble circumstances with him, if she loves 
 him well enough to do so, and if he is honest in telling her 
 exactly what his means are ; but no man has a right to offer any 
 woman half of nothing: he has no right to be a pauper himself 
 nor to make other people paupers. A healthy, industrious 
 
THE FOUNDATION OF A HOME. Ofl 
 
 young couple can live on very little money indeed ; they can 
 save and they can earn, but there should be something to save 
 and some means of earning, and that ' something ' and those 
 ' means ' should be equally and fairly understood by both 
 Especially no young couple should start in life burdened by 
 debts. Expenses in a household are likely to increase and not 
 diminish. Nothing so breaks the spirit as a load of debt. Let 
 every young man clear off the last dollar of his debts before he 
 takes a wife. It is safe in very many cases, we might say in 
 every case, where the young pair are healthful, industrious and 
 economical, to start without any cash capital, if there is in the 
 young man's possession some reliable business, with its reason- 
 ably settled gains ; but it is not safe to start hampered by any 
 debts. 'Owe no man anything — but to love one another.'" 
 
 " Well, Mark has no debts, and he has a business," said 
 Miriam, with a sigh of relief 
 
 "While Mark in his daily business, which furnishes him a 
 reasonable prospect of support, builds up his Home from without, 
 do you, Miriam, know how to build it up within ? What do you 
 know about housekeeping ? If it is Mark's to make money, it 
 is yours to spend it judiciously : to save it so far as you can, 
 without sacrifice of comfort and decency. Will you be able to 
 take his income and out of it produce in your home refinement, 
 taste, plenty, good order, strict economy, and achieve at least 
 Micawber financiering, which will save a dollar out of the year's 
 allowance ? That is, will you fall within the income, even if it 
 be by never so little, and not fall without the income, even if it 
 be by never so little ? This, Miriam, can be done only if you 
 are prepared like the wise women in Proverbs to look well to 
 the ways of your household ; to look at them understanding^. 
 You must know how everything should be done, even though 
 you may not have to do it yourself If you rely on telling your 
 maid to make good bread, and yet do not yourself know how 
 
26 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 that is to be done, you are likely to have poor bread, or bread 
 wastefully made. If you tell your servant to be economical, and 
 do not yourself know all the items of economical practice, be 
 sure there will be waste somewhere. Streams do not rise higher 
 than their source, and first-rate housekeeping is secured only 
 where there is a first-rate housekeeper at the head of affairs, 
 although she may not personally perform any of the labor." 
 
 " This may be pleasing talk to Miriam," said Helen, " but it 
 gives me the horrors. What a delinquent am I ! bread ! 
 economy ! financiering ! " 
 
 I ignored her interruption, and continued : 
 
 " Now, Miriam, I consider a true ability for housekeeping, a 
 masterly knowledge of it, one of the finest capitals a woman can 
 bring into a marriage partnership ; I should set it against any 
 large cash capital which her husband had, as without it his 
 capital would be likely to be wasted ; it should counterbalance 
 grand business abilities on his part, because if it is lacking, 
 capital is not likely to increase by his abilities. Don't sneer, 
 Helen, and mumble that it is ' vulgar, common knowledge ; ' 
 housekeeping is not vulgar : it is a fine art ; it grasps with one 
 hand beauty, with the other utility; it has its harmonies like 
 music, and its order like the stars in their courses. I fear really 
 good housekeeping, which exhibits itself not in occasional enter- 
 tainments, or a handsome parlor, but the good housekeeping 
 which extends from the attic to the cellar, and through every 
 hour in the year, is far from common. 
 
 " So, after religious principle as underlying rock, after love as 
 a corner-stone, after health as a foundation, I say, let us begin 
 to lay up the walls of your home with really good housekeeping 
 on the wife's part, and honest industry in his business, whatever 
 it may be, on the husband's." 
 
 "You, aunt, should be able to say whether I am a good house 
 keeper," said Miriam. 
 
THE FOUNDATION Of A HOME. 27 
 
 "I should condemn myself, Miriam," I replied, "it I had 
 allowed you to grow up in ignorance of housekeeping. Fa- 
 miliarity, says the proverb, breeds contempt, but it is ignorance 
 of housekeeping which breeds contempt for that art; true 
 familiarity with all its departments begets profound respect for it." 
 
 "Aunt Sophronia," demanded Hester, " do you consider gooc^ 
 housekeeping and good scholarship incompatible ? " 
 
 " Surely not," I replied. " Very many most admirable, prac- 
 tical housekeepers are not scholars ; scholarship has not come 
 in their way, nor suited their taste ; but wherever a woman is a 
 sound scholar, she ought to be therefore the finer housekeeper. 
 Reaching toward perfection in any one thing should lift us 
 higher in all things ; it should beget a habit of application and 
 thoroughness. Housekeeping embraces a very large part of 
 our home duties, and we should all feel that nothing is too 
 good and beautiful to be laid on the altar of home. Scholarship 
 produces logical thought, correct taste, order, sound judgment; 
 and all these are needful to good housekeeping, to say nothing 
 of the scientific knowledge required, and which many use imitat- 
 ively, not knowing that science is concerned. If classical study 
 makes a preacher a better preacher, and a lawyer a better 
 lawyer, it should make a housekeeper a better housekeeper ; a 
 woman who could read the Georgics oueht not to burn her beef- 
 steak ; the training which teaches her to construe an eclogue 
 should bid her take the steak from the fire when it was properly 
 cooked." 
 
 " But her mind might be so absorbed in the eclogue as to for- 
 get the beef," said Helen. 
 
 " That is about as reasonable as to say that because the lawyer 
 learned to scan hexameters, he would suddenly become absorbed 
 in them and forget his business when applying for a writ of 
 habeas corpus." 
 
 "You make me think of our Nora," laughed Hester; "fathei 
 
28 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 cried out to her, ' Nora ! your salad is not crisp : it seems wilted ; 
 did you have it in water ? ' ' Faith it was floatin' in the pan 
 better nor half an hour ; be that token, some lies there yet,' says 
 Nora. -I went to look, and sure enough there it was, but in 
 picking the leaves from the stem she had laid them all face 
 down. I said to her, ' See here, Nora, you must cover these 
 leaves with water, or put them bottom-side down.' 'An' why 
 will I do that ? ' says Nora. ' Because they have no mouths 
 on the upper surface to drink in the water,' I told her. ' If you 
 say so, I'll put 'em so,' said Nora, ' but it's not meself iver see a 
 mouth in a salad leaf, here nor yet in ould Ireland, where ivery- 
 thing is made right.' " 
 
 "Well, Hester," said I, "you see that botanical knowledge, 
 did not come amiss in the kitchen ; neither does artistic knowl- 
 edge, for I W.1S at Mrs. Burr's lately and saw on her tea-table a 
 salad served with a wreath of blue violets around the edge of 
 the platter, and a cluster of lilies of the valley in the centre ; the 
 dish was as lovely as one of those paintings for which she 
 receives such great prices, and as for flavor, it was the finest 
 salad I ever ate, while the whole table looked beautiful in its 
 beauty. But to go on with our discussion of the capital needed 
 for founding a home. In the housekeeping I have included 
 order and neatness, for that is half. the whole; merely to know 
 how to cook food is not good housekeeping. Economy will be 
 especially demanded of young people who have no fortunes but 
 in themselves. Are you capable of self-denial and self-sacrifice ? 
 Can you be cheerful while others, your friends, make a greater 
 display and have more showy pleasures ? Can you be resolute 
 to save a little every year, even if it is very little indeed ? This 
 strength of character which can attain to self-denial, to persever- 
 ance, self-sacrifice, is fine capital for the founding of a home. 
 Can you sew? Can you cut out garments? Can you make, 
 mend, and re-make ? Rich or poor, every woman should know 
 
THE -FOUNDATION OF A HOME. 29 
 
 how to do this ; if she is rich, she may be poor some day and 
 need the knowledge, or she can now do this work for the objects 
 of her charity, and so increase her means of usefulness. Burns, 
 in the world's loveliest pastoral, says, his house-mother ' gars 
 auld claes look amaist as good as new.' You who begin in 
 humble fashion shall move on this road of tasteful, neat econ- 
 omy in your clothing toward the virtuous woman's height of 
 ' clothing her household in scarlet, and making herself coverings 
 of tapestry, and her clothing silk and purple.' While in the 
 olden time the housewife ' laid her hands to the spindle and held 
 the distaff,' now machinery performs for her these labors, and 
 she can devote herself to cutting and fitting, darning, basting 
 and turning, satisfied that to save is to gain ; and if she saves for 
 love and duty's or holy charity's sake, she makes the work 
 beautiful and honorable. Every woman should be a good seam- 
 stress as well as a good housekeeper, whether she be obliged 
 to use her needle herself or not. There is a growing neglect 
 of nice hand-sewing, and I know young women who are not 
 ashamed to proclaim that ' they don't know how to make a 
 button-hole, and their hemming looks like witches.' " 
 
 "Well," laughed Miriam, " I can sew: so that's more capital." 
 "Another important item in founding a home is, that the 
 young people have and cultivate equable, cheery dispositions, 
 that their homes be bright and attractive. A gruff, fault-finding, 
 never-pleased man makes his home hateful ; a morose, quer- 
 ulous, spiteful woman makes her home equally hateful. If 
 such dispositions are in you, you must conquer them for the 
 sake of Home comfort, that over your Household may rest the 
 blessing of peace. Cultivate also for. your home, intelligence; 
 there are other matters of interest needed to converse about 
 than the price of potatoes and the draught of the kitchen 
 chimney. 
 
 " Stories generally end with the marriage'ring, but here the 
 
30 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 most important story of life begins. After the marriage-ring 
 come the greatest beauties of self-sacrifice, the strength of 
 perseverance, the heights of courage, the tenderness of sym- 
 pathy, the need of patience. Search yourselves and see whether 
 you have in your hearts the germs of these things, which need 
 may develop into luxuriant growth. Have you in yourselves 
 the essentials for the founding of a home? Have you any 
 home-making capacity? If not, then, out of consideration for 
 the world's already sufficiently great burden of misery, don't 
 marry. 
 
 " But if you can look honestly at the future, see that it will 
 not all be love-making and plenty and pleasure, but that 
 
 ' No lot below 
 For one whole day escapeth care; ' 
 
 that there will be clouds with the sunshine, and want mixed 
 with plenty, and sorrow with joy, and pain with comfort ; and if 
 you find you have in you ability to 
 
 ' Make a sunshine in a shady place; ' 
 
 if you can see two walking courageously together because they 
 be agreed, lifting up each other when they fall, standing by 
 each other in disaster, and liking good better because it is 
 shared — then marry ; and there will be one more true Home 
 in the world, one more source of good, one more fountain of 
 joy to generations to come ; the state and the world will be the 
 better for you and for your Home." 
 
 " Why ! " cried Hester, in her dashing way, " who is sufficient 
 for these things?" 
 
 "All honest hearts who are capable of loving, and are cour- 
 ageously resolved to do, day by day, their very best, living 
 down their disasters, and repairing their mistakes." 
 
 " I see," said Miriam, " why you do not want the whole time 
 • of an engaged couple consumed in preparations of dress and 
 
THE FOUNDATION OF A HOME. 31 
 
 house-furnishing, that leave them no time to think, when the 
 subject is of so great importance." 
 
 "If you take it so seriously, Miriam," said Helen, "you will 
 grow as perfect as Aunt Sophronia's model, Mrs. Winton. As 
 for me, thinking of so many duties would make me gray in a 
 week. I think I shall have to risk the married state without 
 finding in myself any particular capacity for it." 
 
 So in this world we walk according to our lights. Does the 
 light burn low because we were started in life with very little 
 oil in it, or because we have not been taught to tend and trim 
 it properly ? Miriam is a very different girl from Helen, and / 
 will not say it is my training that has made the difference. 
 However, such as they were they married : Miriam and Mark, 
 and Helen and Frank Hand. Frank and his wife had the most 
 money ; but Mark and Miriam had what I called the most real 
 capital for the founding of a home — good religious principle, 
 true love, health, knowledge of housekeeping and business, 
 industry, economy, courage, intelligence, good dispositions; 
 they were not perfect, but very fair samples of humanity. 
 Miriam and Mark had a plain wedding and no wedding tour. 
 They had a snug little cottage into which they went on their 
 marriage day, and I called that evening to bid them "good- 
 night." As I went away I prayed David's Prayer : " Let it 
 please thee to bless the house of thy servant, that it may con- 
 tinue forever before thee : for thou, O Lord God, hast spoken it. 
 and with thy blessing let the house of thy servant be blessed 
 forever." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 ORDER IN THE HOME. 
 AUNT SOPHRONIA'S IDEAS OF TIME-SAVING. 
 
 HAD invited my three nieces to spend my birthday with 
 
 me. During dinner Hester informed us that she wa.1 
 
 going away to school, and expected to remain most of 
 
 the time for four years. 
 
 " Ridiculous ! " cried Helen : " you will then be past twenty, 
 
 without having been in society; at whrt age do you expect to 
 
 be married at that rate ? " 
 
 " I have set no period for that important event," said Hester, 
 with her lofty smile. " However, I have in my reading hap- 
 pened upon a deal of advice on that subject, and I find that 
 physicians and other wise people consider from twenty-two until 
 twenty-five the best age for marriage, and they assert that many 
 evils of early deaths, feeble health, unhappy homes, sickly chil- 
 dren, and so forth and so on, result from premature marriages." 
 " If you must go to school," said Helen, deserting the first 
 question, as she always does when Hester begins to argue, " I 
 hope you will learn music. Every one does, and you will seem 
 dreadfully stupid and unfashionable if you cannot play." 
 
 " I shall not study music, as it would be a waste of time 
 and money," replied Hester ; " only those who have some apti- 
 tude for music should study it ; as for me, I have neither voice 
 nor 'ear, and why should I drill on an art where I can never 
 achieve success ? Why study music merely because it has be- 
 come the fashion to pretend to pursue it? If I spend on music 
 (32) 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 33 
 
 t\vo hours a day during my four years' course, I spend two 
 thousand five hundred and four hours, and four hundred dollars 
 upon music, and then can only drum on the piano, and not play 
 with taste and sympathy. All those hours and that money, on 
 the other hand, might put me in possession of some branch foi 
 which I have real aptitude. Folks should study what is suited 
 to themselves, to their own needs and abilities, not merely some- 
 thing that other people study. Goethe says, 'We should 
 guard against a talent which we cannot hope to practise in 
 perfection.' " 
 
 " Well, there is painting, Hester," said Miriam : " you have ^ 
 real taste for the beautiful art." 
 
 " I have taste, but no genius," said Hester j " I can appreciate 
 what other people do, but I cannot create beauty myself; I 
 should be merely a mediocre artist, and there are plenty of them 
 in the market. Now, I have ability for scholarship; natural 
 sciences and languages are my delight; therefore I shall pursue 
 that in which I can succeed." 
 
 " Is it better," asked Miriam, " to know something of every- 
 thing, or everything of something ? " 
 "Absolutely, one can do neither," I said. 
 " Well, within human limitations, understood." 
 "It is better," said Hester, "to know everything o* something, 
 for thoroughness is in itself a great virtue, and \\ill entei intc 
 all your life, making one in all things painstaking and honest." 
 " This devoting yourself to one thing, however," said Helen 
 " will make you one-idead, crotchety, a hobby-rider, and you 
 will be detestable." 
 
 " These people of one idea have been the people who moved 
 the world," retorted Hester. 
 
 " The fact is, my dear girls," I interposed, " no one branch of 
 study stands isolated ; it reaches out and intermingles and takes 
 hold of others. Hester's ideas are in the main correct; study 
 
34 THE COMPLETE HiiME. 
 
 that for which you find in yourselves most aptitude ; aspire to 
 completeness in whatever you undertake ; value knowledge, and 
 seize whatever comes in your way, and put what you acquire to 
 use as fast as you can. The Lord found great fault with the 
 servant who buried his talent in a napkin." 
 
 " What do you suppose his talent was ? " asked Helen. 
 " Time, perhaps : the one talent common to all." 
 "And what was the napkin wherein he buried it?" asked 
 Hester. 
 
 " Disorder, doubtless ; for you can bury more time in disorder 
 than in any other way." 
 
 " I must be very disorderly, then," laughed Helen, " for since 
 I went to housekeeping I have no time for anything ; you have 
 no idea how behind-hand I am. I have not opened my piano 
 except on a few evenings ; I have a whole basketful of accumu- 
 lated sewing, and hose for darning ; I haven't read anything but 
 two or three novels ; I have not done a bit of fancy-work — " 
 
 " My dear girl ! " I cried, " if this is your record now, what 
 will become of you when cares increase ? — say, for instance, if 
 there were two or three little ones." 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know," said Helen; "I should have to set 
 up another servant or two, and then we should be bags of rags, 
 and all our buttons would be off, I expect." 
 
 " Indeed Helen," I urged, " there must be a sad mistake some- 
 where if you have reached this result. Living here in the vil- 
 lage, with but two in the family, you have a very modicum of 
 household cares ; what think you of young wives on farms who 
 nave chicks to feed, several hands to cook for, butter to make, 
 oftentimes no servant, or but a young girl ? and yet nearly all 
 of them would make a better showing than this. I remember 
 when Cousin Ann's three elder children wjere little things, and 
 she kept but a half-grown girl, there were no rags and no mend- 
 ing in arrears, and all the farm-work being done by half-past 
 
ORDER TN THE HOME. 35 
 
 two, she could sit down to make or mend, and in the evening 
 pick up a book or a newspaper. She made a point of reading 
 as much as she could, so as to be able to interest and instruct 
 her children. Her son Reed's wife has a young child and keeps 
 no help ; she sends butter and eggs to market, and manages so 
 well in all her work that she has spare hours for making pretty 
 and useful things for her house, for reading, and for doing all 
 her own sewing, and not being behind-hand with it. Depend 
 on it, the secret lies in industrious order — in what is called good 
 management." 
 
 " But I cannot understand it, Helen," said Miriam : " your 
 house has only ten rooms beside the bath, and you keep a 
 servant: where does your time go?" 
 
 " How can / tell where it goes, when I never can find it ? " 
 grumbled Helen. " I dare say j/(?« don't understand it. Why, 
 aunt, there is Miriam doing the most of her own work ; no 
 matter when I go there, the work is all done ; the house is neat 
 as a pin ; Miriam is sitting at her reading or her sewing ; she 
 has made perfect gems of fancy things that stick here and there 
 in her house ; even in her kitchen she has fancy wall-pockets for 
 string, paper and little bags ; fancy holders, a pincushion hung 
 by the window, a crocheted scrap-bag, and, if you'll believe me, 
 always a bouquet in the window ! " 
 
 " Why not have it nice ? " said Miriam. " I have to be there 
 often, and I can work faster where things are handy, and enjoy 
 myself better when things are pretty. Why should I run up- 
 stairs for every pin I want, or look five minutes when I need a 
 string, or have scraps of rag and paper stuffed in corners for 
 want of a convenient bag to put them in ? " 
 
 " What amazes me is," said Helen, " where you get the time 
 for all these things." 
 
 " I got it from Mrs, Burr for a wedding gift," said Miriam. 
 
 " Do explain : I wish she had been as liberal to me." 
 
36 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " She sent me a book of her own making, two boards of gray 
 Bristol, bound in red satin and painted with one of her lovely 
 landscapes. Inside was only a single page: that was while 
 Bristol, illuminated with a wreath of flowers, bees and butterflies, 
 and this motto within: 'Always be one hour in advance of your 
 work.' I saw at once that here was the key to the Order that 
 reigns at Mrs. Burr's. If I were an hour beforehand with work 
 I should never be hurried nor worried ; if I began at once, the 
 habit of being in seasoil would be fixed. I saw also that the 
 one hour would by good judgment in planning grow to many, 
 and I should always have time to spare. I concluded to think 
 the housekeeping matter out and have an exact routine for 
 it ; it was little trouble to do that : I had only to copy Aunt 
 Sophronia : she always had exact order here." 
 
 " But I hate routine," yawned Helen. 
 
 " Then you hate what you never tried," quoth Hester. 
 
 " I believe," cried Helen, " that it is all my servant that makes 
 the difference. You, Miriam, are not plagued with a girl. I 
 dare say, Hannah has no order about things, and then, she is so 
 slow ! " 
 
 " But you, as her mistress," I said, " have a right and a duty 
 to arrange an order, and see that it is maintained ; if there is no 
 order, of course she will be slow ; disorder is the slowest worker 
 in the universe. Have you any fixed time for anything ? When 
 do you breakfast?" 
 
 "When the breakfast is ready," cried Helen, "and the same 
 for dinner and tea ; only Hannah is prompter with tea, so that 
 she can get out." 
 
 "And on what day do you make your bread ? " 
 
 " Why, when the bread runs out, and usually Hannah ' forgot,' 
 or ' didn't know,' or something of that kind, and we have a day 
 of baker's brfead." 
 
 "And do you not look after the state of the bread-box and see 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 37 
 
 that Hannah minds her work ? Do you not know how many 
 loaves you need weekly, and have a regular day for baking, one 
 day before the bread is out, so you will not cut hot bread and 
 gain dyspepsia thereby, while you waste bread? And what day 
 have you for sweeping ? — what day for washing ? " 
 
 " Well, I try to have Monday for washing-day, and Friday 
 for sweeping, but sometimes we find ourselves out of all pie, 
 cake and bread, and then we have to make a change. And if I 
 go off Friday morning expecting Hannah to sweep, I come 
 home, and perhaps she has done something else — dear knows 
 what ; and then Saturday all is flurry, and I have no decent place 
 to sit down to my mending, and it is put off until the next week, 
 and then I am tired, and there is a great deal of it to do, and so 
 it goes on." 
 
 "All the result of not having a time and a place for everything; 
 a lack of plan and energy on your part, Helen, is ruining your 
 servant, and your domestic comfort. A Household should have 
 laws like the Medes and Persians, which never change ; and 
 privileges which are like an Englishman's house, an impregnable 
 castle," I said. 
 
 " Miriam," I asked, " what and how much do you read and 
 study?" 
 
 " We take two monthly magazines and a daily paper, and I 
 read those regularly ; and Mark and I enjoy talking over the 
 news and the various articles at meal-times." 
 
 " Why," exclaimed Helen, " I haven't read a paper since I was 
 married, and Frank might as well talk about the affairs of the 
 moon as of daily news, for all I know of it!" 
 
 " Then Frank will begin to go from home for company," 1 
 said ; " by all means read, Helen, and have something to talk 
 about beyond Hannah and the butcher." 
 
 " Go on, Miriam: what else do you read? " said Hester. 
 
 "I arrange for an hour each morning, except oy Saturday, 
 
38 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 for study, and I spend half of that hour on French, and the 
 other half on History. It is very little, and would not satisfy 
 such a student as you, Hester, but it serves to keep those 
 studies fresh, and I gain a little. Then I have always on hand 
 a book or two : the popular book of the month, or something 
 that Mark has read and likes, or that some one who knows 
 about books has recommended to me, and that keeps my mind 
 fresh and active. I get what books and articles I can on house- 
 keeping, on cooking, furnishing, decorating, repairing, window 
 gardening, anything that will serve to improve our home at 
 small cost, or save expense, and introduce variety ; and I have 
 set up a scrap-book of valuable items." 
 
 " But where do you get the time ? for I often find you at 
 sewing or fancy work," said Helen. 
 
 " I took from the very first an hour a day for sewing ; that so 
 far does for my mending, and keeps me with work in advance 
 finished. When I feel inclined for fancy work, and on rainy 
 days when there are no calls, and in evenings when friends drop 
 in T can do a good deal, if it is all at hand in my basket. \ go 
 out every day, sometimes in the morning, to give the orders at 
 the grocer's and market, and as I keep a list of needs in my 
 kitchen-book, I am saved the trouble of frequent errands; and 
 one afternoon in a week I give to social duties, calls, visits and 
 the like ; and so I find time for everything." 
 
 " Because you have a time for everything. Are not youi 
 meals at a set time? Don't you have a set time for each kind 
 of house-work ? " asked Hester. 
 
 " On Monday my laundress comes early. She washes out 
 clothes — of course it is a small wash. While they are drying, 
 she scrubs, blacks the stove, cleans, windows, or does anything 
 I want her to do. Then in the afternoon she irons the clothes ; 
 after tea I mend them and put them away. She is a strong, 
 active woman, able to give a good day's work, and I pay her 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 39 
 
 considerably over the ordinary price for the sake of thorough- 
 ness and despatch. She finds everything ready for her work 
 when she comes, and with a cup of hot coffee for her dinner, 
 jhe gets done without over-fatigue." 
 
 " Why Hannah dajvdles all day over just our little wash," 
 complained Helen. 
 
 I resolved to find out some time the "reason why" of 
 Hannah's " dawdling." 
 
 " Friday is my sweeping-day ; and on Saturday I bake bread, 
 pies, cake, apples, a variety of things," said Miriam. 
 
 "And you do all your own work besides?" asked Helen. 
 
 " The laundress' boy comes to clean the front-steps and the 
 grass-plot — he does any little thinj I need." 
 
 " Dear me ! and your hands don't look any the worse for it, 
 either," said Helen. 
 
 " I take care of them," said Miriam. " I have a mop for the 
 dishes, and a high-handled scrubbing brush for pots and pans, 
 and a cork two inches high for polishing the knives — and 
 nothing is so nice for knives as corks for the bath brick and 
 the after rubbing — and I use gloves when I sweep and dust, and 
 whenever else I can. I shall not sacrifice my hands needlessly, 
 nor shall I sacrifice my work to save my hands." 
 
 " Now tell me why you don't keep a girl ? " asked Helen. 
 
 " As a matter of economy," said Miriam. " Mark has only 
 a thousand a year. We coidd keep a girl, and he urged it ; but 
 I am amply able without the least injury to myself to do this 
 work. If we kept a servant, with the wages, the board of the 
 sen^ant, and the fact that she would, however well watched, be 
 less saving than I am, our living expenses would be increased 
 by one-third. Without the servant we can lay up something, 
 and we can buy more books, and give ourselves various little 
 gratifications. There was, in fact, nothing to sacrifice but a 
 little false pride, and I dared to be independent." 
 
40 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Why is it that maids are bound to be less economical than 
 raeir mistresses ?" asked Hester. 
 
 " Because their money is not invested in the housekeeping," 
 iaid I ; " the dollar saved will not go into their pockets ; so, even 
 ■vith average honesty and economy, they will throw away fai 
 more than the mistress. Human honesty is a curious affair, and 
 embraces very many degrees. ' The cloak of truth is lined with 
 lies,' saith Longfellow's 'Aromatic Jew.' " 
 
 " You' remind me of our Nora," said Hester. " I met her 
 going out with a pail of milk : she said, ' Sure the bye left me 
 Ann Skinner's pint, and her me quart. Troth I'm on me way 
 to change the same.' 'I should think,' I said, 'that Ann would 
 have seen the error before now; he left her the milk first' 'An' 
 why should Ann see it? ' says Nora: 'she has the quart!" 
 
 " Just give me, Miriam," I said, after we had laughed at Nora's 
 logic, " a sketch of your day." 
 
 " We rise at seven ; by eight breaktast is ready, and while it 
 was cooking I had set the table and put my bed-room in order. 
 Always by half-past nine, sometimes sooner, my work is done. 
 Then I take my hour's study. After that I sometimes go out 
 for shopping, or leaving orders. If not, I sew an hour. Then 
 I begin to get dinner, and intermixed with that comes generally 
 half an hour or so, while things are cooking, when I can read. 
 After dinner is out of the way I dress up for afternoon ; if I have 
 not been out in the morning, I go out then ; if I have, or it rains, 
 I have fancy-work or reading to occupy me. I do not usually 
 cook anything for supper, except the tea. I have cake, fruit, 
 cold meat, sandwiches, salads ; there are plenty of nice, simple 
 things ; if there is a salad, I prepare it while I am getting dinner. 
 Before I go to bed I go to the kitchen, see that the tea-kettle is 
 filled, put the rice, or cracked wheat, for breakfast, to soak, and 
 get the potatoes ready ; this takes me only a few minutes and 
 saves me a deal of time in the morning. If Mark had to be at 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 41 
 
 his business before nine, or did not come home until the five 
 o'clock dinner that some have, of course I should only get 
 myself a lunch, and there would be a deal more time for the 
 books or needle-work, but I have plenty of time as it is. Satur- 
 days I neither study nor sew ; I have the baking, which takes al' 
 the morning, and I go up-stairs for a while in the evening tc 
 sort and mend the clothes for Monday's wash. Friday I sweep, 
 and that uses up the time of the walk, the reading and the fancy- 
 work. But I always have time to go anywhere with Mark, or 
 to see our friends, or for anything extra. I never feel hurried 
 at all — thanks to Mrs. Burr's rule, and yours, aunt, of having a 
 set time for everything, and a place for everything." 
 
 Our conversation had extended past dinner and nearly through 
 the afternoon. 
 
 For some weeks thereafter I was absorbed "by Hester's prep- 
 arations for departure. In her own and her father's atrocious 
 neglect of proper dress, I feared she would go off deplorably 
 shabby. I poured out my complaints to Mrs. Winton. " See 
 how Hester looks : her clothes have no fit ; John is so absurd 
 in his ideas ; the girl never dresses like other people." 
 
 "The evil is not in Mr. Rocheford's ideas," said Mrs. Winton: 
 "he is right in the opinion that the human figure should be 
 allowed a natural development, without any compressions ; vig- 
 orous health and true beauty of form will thus be secured. You 
 have often admired the upright and elegant person and carriage 
 of my daughter Grace : she has never worn any article of dress, 
 from a gown to a glove, which pressed upon her, or in any way 
 changed or hindered her natural growth. The trouble with 
 Hester is, that from the extreme of anxiety about dress in which 
 some girls indulge, she has made the rebound of entire careless- 
 ness ; her clothing is neither properly made nor properly put on. 
 I predict for her the soon reaching a happy mean, and being a 
 model of taste and neatness, while she eschews extravagance and 
 
42 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 display. The good order which pervades her studies will sooo 
 permeate all her life : her cultivated taste will direct her to fit 
 ness and beauty ; it is well for her to go away to school : she 
 will be brought into companionship with some good and con« 
 genial woman, who will become her model. It is most danger 
 ous to neglect the greater for the less : Hester has been neglect 
 ing the less for the greater; but increased mental training will 
 produce harmony in her mind, and she will give less its full and 
 proper place." 
 
 I began to think Mrs. Winton was right, when on going to 
 see Hester, I found how nicely she had packed her trunk. She 
 explained it by stating, that first she had packed her books and 
 pictures handsomely, " because she loved them," and then she 
 thought that the care which was good for them would serve as 
 well for other things, and so I found her surveying with much 
 satisfaction the work of her hands. 
 
 As I heartily abhor an untidy woman, I gave Hester some 
 advice about clean collars properly put on, neat hair, and the 
 excellence of neck-ties and white aprons. I said to her: " Hester, 
 there is neither honor nor advantage in the neglecting of little 
 things. God makes the flower which is to perish unseen in 
 secret nooks as perfect as that destined to bloom before millions 
 of admirers ; he carves with the same exquisite symmetry the 
 shell which is so small as to be almost microscopic, and the great 
 treasure of the sea. God slights nothing. They who love good- 
 ness and beauty for their own sakes will slight nothing. An old 
 writer says : ' Manners makyth man.' Chesterfield advises : ' Pre- 
 pare yourselves for the world as the athletse used to do for their 
 exercises : oil your mind and your manners to give them the 
 needful suppleness and flexibility: strength alone will not do.' 
 Cultivate graciousness as a duty, and cultivate as a duty also a 
 harmonious neatness and beauty in appearance and in all that 
 you do. People, Hester, judge us by what they see. Let not 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 43 
 
 /our good be evil spoken of, but let your zeal for knowledge be 
 commended by order and harmony in all that you do." 
 
 After Hester was gone I had more time to visit my other two 
 nieces, and as I was lonely I paid more calls than usual to my 
 friends in the village. The subject of Order in the Household 
 was much in my mind, and I quietly gathered up many hints 
 concerning it. I went one Tuesday morning, about nine o'clock, 
 lo call upon Helen. As my ring was not answered, I went 
 round to a side door opening into the dining-room, and walked 
 in. The door was open between the dining-room and kitchen, 
 and I saw that Hannah had just finished doing up the breakfast 
 dishes, and was preparing to do the washing, which had been 
 " put off" from the day before. I always send my washing to 
 the kitchen sorted — a bag of coarse clothes, a bag of fine 
 clothes, and the colored clothes and flannels by themselves. 
 This facilitates the work of the laundress ; she sees all that she 
 has to do, and she is not delayed in picking the wash over. I 
 trust Helen's style of sending down a wash is peculiar to herself. 
 The door of the back stairs was open, and down these stairs had 
 been flung an avalanche of soiled clothes — ^towels, sheets, shirts, 
 hose and table linen promiscuously tumbled into the kitchen, 
 and lying along the steps. Hannah lazily gathered up some of 
 these pieces, and dropped them into her tub. A pair of colored 
 hose went in tangled up in Frank's best shirt, and I perceived 
 that Helen's nicest collar was kicked by the unobservant maid 
 into a pile of towels. I saw, also, that the clothes had not been 
 mended ; a skirt of Helen's, who wears her white skirts trained 
 and dragging upon the side-walks, had half a yard of the ruffling 
 torn, and hanging in a great loop ; and one of the sheets was 
 also rent. I went up-stairs to Helen. She was rocking in the 
 easy-chair in her pretty room, with a face of discontent. She 
 cried, as soon as she saw me, " O, I'm glad to see you. I'm sick 
 of housekeeping, and I'm dreadfully blue : all things go in such 
 
4J: THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 a turmoil here ! Yesterday Hannah did not wash, because she 
 thought it would rain, and nov/ she has hardly begun, and she'll 
 be until tea-time at it, and a helter-skelter dinner too. Then 
 Frank has asked two gentlemen to tea to-morrow, and there 
 should be cake and floating island made, and the ironing will be 
 lying about ; it will be noon before Hannah folds the clothes , 
 and only see : I put this lace set in last week, and look how it is 
 torn, and I want to wear it to-morrow, and it will take me forever 
 to mend it." 
 
 " Now, Helen," I said, " you need a good plain talking to, and 
 as I shall give it to you, I hope you'll receive it kindly, and 
 profit by it. As for your washing, it should have been done 
 yesterday. Then, if it had rained, the white clothes could, most 
 of them, have been left in a tub of light bluing-water, and have 
 been put on the line early this morning, while a frame full of 
 towels, hose and colored clothes could have been dried in the 
 kitchen, and Hannah could be ironing them now. Your maid 
 is disorderly; but don't complain of that, when her mistress has 
 no idea of order." And so I told her how I had seen her clothes 
 tossed into the kitchen. 
 
 " Well, aunt, what ought I to do ? " asked Helen. 
 
 " I should say, go right down-stairs, and yourself sort the 
 clothes that are lying about, and bring those torn pieces up, and 
 mend them before Hannah is ready for them. It takes twice as 
 long to wash ragged clothes as it does to wash whole ones. 
 Just tell Hannah kindly, that you intend to have a new style in 
 the washing, and that she must be brisk, and that all the clothes 
 must be neatly folded in the basket, before she goes out this 
 jvening." 
 
 Helen, seeing me reach out my hand for her torn lace, with 
 evident intention of darning it, started for her kitchen, and 
 presently returned with the torn skirt and sheet, and set briskly 
 ftt her mending. 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 45 
 
 " Do the skirt ^rj^, because she will want to wash that first— 
 the starched pieces should have the precedence, as they take 
 longer to dry. Now, Helen, I will mend this set, and hereafter, 
 do as I do : I always wash my own lace and fine embroidery. 
 The best intentioned maids will destroy these things sooner than 
 their owner. The maids have neither to buy them nor repair 
 them, and human honesty has its varieties ; so docs human igno- 
 rance. Hannah very likely rubbed this set on the board, and 
 then boiled it. Have a little bag in your bed-room, and throw 
 this kind of finery in it as it becomes soiled. When it has accu- 
 mulated, put the pieces to soak in weak borax or ammonia 
 water ; some evening, wash them up lightly with your hands and 
 fine toilette soap ; next morning, scald them. Starch the embroid- 
 ery, and iron it on the wrong side, laid on a piece of fine flannel 
 The lace, rinse in weak gum-water ; stretch it, and pin it on a 
 pillow, though some kinds can be ironed between two pieces of 
 flannel. On washing-days you should insist on having Hannah 
 rise early, and begin washing before breakfast. Have the 
 clothes ready for her in bags ; have a breakfast that is easily 
 gotten, and needs few pots and pans. Arrange for a dinner, 
 which shall be but little trouble, and give some help about 
 preparing it ; you can set the table, and make the dessert ; and so 
 you will encourage your maid, and have a better meal, for there 
 is no propriety in making, by means of bad meals, the washing- 
 day a terror to Frank, as if he were an evil-doer. 
 
 " To-morrow let Ha'nnah get at her ironing as soon as she 
 has cleared away the breakfast dishes ; if her clothes are ready 
 folded in the basket she can go briskly to work ; and do you 
 prepare the cake and floating island yourself: there will be a 
 good fire in the range, and you will find it little trouble. In 
 fact, Helen, if you do not turn over a new leaf and have order 
 in your house, your housekeeping will be more and more a 
 misery to you ; you will become petulant and moping under the 
 
46 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 burden ; Frank will find you less agreeable, and will wonder 
 why his home has no regularity. His clothes and drawers 
 being out of order, and his meals at irregular hours, he will 
 have cause for complaint, and become, by degrees, a fault- 
 finder. Your servant will go from bad to worse, for it is very 
 easy in this naughty world to improve backwards — as cares 
 mcrease, the complications of disorder will increase. Tell me, 
 Helen, have you a place for everything? Are your bureau 
 drawers in order, and has each one its own appointed contents, 
 so that you could find what you want in the dark ? In your 
 dining-room, has your china-closet a fixed place for everything? 
 so of your store-closet, and your tin-closet ? Have you fixed 
 places for your bed and table linen ? Are your kitchen towels 
 in a drawer of their own, or do you and Hannah consume five, 
 ten, twenty minutes here and there looking for things ? " 
 
 " Dear me ! " cried Helen : " very little is in order, and it 
 looks a prodigious task to put things in order, and make 
 Hannah orderly, or be so myself If I had only begun so 
 when I was married ! " 
 
 " But it will be a deal easier to reform now than next year ; 
 you had better inaugurate order at once." 
 
 " You see," continued Helen, " grandma is a good house- 
 keeper, bnt she did not care to be troubled teaching me, and I 
 did not like to be bothered with learning, and we both kept 
 saying ' time enough.' So the chambermaid took care of my 
 room, and grandma did my mending if it was troublesome, and 
 put my bureaus to rights every now and then for me, and now, 
 really, aunt, order is not in me." 
 
 " You must attain to it," I said, " or. you will have a very 
 unhappy married life. An acquaintance of mine, one of the most 
 prematurely aged, fretted, worn-out women I ever saw, wrecked 
 her home on this rock of Disorder. When I knew her she had 
 six children ; not one of them had a drawer or closet for their 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 47 
 
 own clothes ; the stockings were mended or not, as it happened 
 and when it happened; when mended, pairs were not rolled 
 together, but the family supply tumbled into a basket of 
 drawer, and at the cry, ' I want a pair of stockings,' came the 
 reply 'to go and look for them,' and the little ones wore odd 
 hose as often as mates. Sunday n:\orning was a scene of worry : 
 buttons off, hats mislaid, shoes lost. The muff, last worn in 
 early sprihg, was tosseJ upon a wardrobe, or on the spare-room 
 bed, and found next fall dusty and moth-eaten ; the parasols, 
 used last on some Fall day, were stood in a closet, or behind a 
 door, or laid on the bureau of the vacant room, and spring found 
 them faded, dirty and mice-gnawed. Spasmodic house-cleanings 
 availed little, as disorder began again as soon as things were 
 put to rights. No one was ever contented nor sure of anything. 
 The house-mother was always tired, never had time, was always 
 in a worry and nervous. A good cook and seamstress, she 
 accomplished nothing by her knowledge, for where she built up 
 by ' knowing how,' she pulled down by disorder. Neither her 
 husband nor children thought their home a ' nice place : ' it was 
 to them no centre of their desires, no model, no 'dear nest* 
 whither they would always fly. I tell you, Helen, in a Home it 
 must be order or ruin. Order is to the house as morality to 
 the human being — a sheet-anchor." 
 
 The next day I went to see Miriam. It was about nine 
 o'clock, and my niece was just taking her place in the sitting- 
 room window. She beckoned me in. I said : "Ah I this is the 
 time when you study." 
 
 " That is nothing," she said ; " I am always learning when 1 
 talk with you. Let us have a morning visit ; you shall stay to 
 dinner. I can pursue my sewing and fancy work, and the study 
 can come in by itself some other hour in the day." 
 
 Miriam's sitting-room was in lovely order. She is trying 
 window gardening, and had a jardinet in one window in fine 
 
48 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 bloom. A broad board had been screwed upon the window< 
 sill. Mark had made for it a rustic frame three inches high, and 
 Miriam had lined that with moss, and planted in the moss com- 
 mon vines, as " Love Entangled," " Wandering Jew," " Money 
 Wort," and " Parlor Ivy ; " these drooped nearly to the floor. 
 Inside the moss lining she had set an old-fashioned square 
 dripping-pan, and filled it with rich earth well piled up ; in the 
 centre and in each corner was a green flower-pot with a thrifty 
 geranium or Begonia; and between the pots grew low ferns, 
 blue and pink oxalis, pansies and other things, which did not 
 demand deep rootage. It was a very pretty, cheap and easily- 
 taken-care-of winter garden, and over it hung a very handsome 
 basket of drooping plants. I saw in one corner a rather large 
 basket of work folded into neat bundles. I inquired what it 
 was. Said Miriam : 
 
 " My time for sewing more than suffices for myself, so this is 
 some work for the Missionary Society, and for the Children's 
 Home. I have been cutting it out in my spare time for a week 
 past, and now it is ready to sew upon, and as it is here at' hand 
 I can set a good many stitches at odd moments. See, here is 
 some pretty work I am doing for our missionary-box. I like to 
 send pretty things away, and I thought the little sums I had to 
 give in this way would go further if I bought material and made 
 it up. If I have more time after that, I will sew on the material 
 of those who have no time to give. After Christmas I shall 
 begin on a set of shirts for Mark. He will not need them 
 before next summer, but you know Mrs. Burr's rule is to be 
 before-hand with your work, and in warm weather one feels less 
 like sewing and there is more company, and Mark and I may 
 take a little vacation." 
 
 Miriam went up-stairs for some patterns to show me, and as 1 
 (icard a knock at the kitchen door I answered it. The kitchen 
 was in beautiful order ; the floor was covered with oil-clotb anrf 
 

 — ^- '**^f€^':;^'fw^.:.^ 
 
 •^^ 
 
 
 |,||i|-^!^r-^ 
 
 ^r««. 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 ) i ' 
 
 4 f Ml I 
 
 'Fit—- ^^ ^ 
 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 49 
 
 there were rugs of carpet lying before the table, stove and sink 
 The fire had been arranged to burn low until needed for dinner; 
 the vegetables for dinner were standing ready in earthen basins 
 of water. I wag glad to see that the table and the wood work 
 of the sink were covered with oil-cloth. This saves a great deal 
 of time and of hard work in scrubbing. Young housekeepers 
 should remember that they cannot practise truer economy than 
 in investing a little money in things that shall spare them severe 
 labor, and save their time, as for instance, coverings for kitchen 
 floors and tables. I was glad also to see that Miriam had been 
 wise to provide articles for use that were light and easy to 
 handle. Young folks often strain themselves by lifting enormous 
 pots and water-pails, when small, light ones would be far more 
 suitable for a small family. Miriam generally uses white metal 
 saucepans and skillets instead of iron. In her kitchen every- 
 thing was handy, to spare steps. Mark had been at some 
 expense in fitting up an outer shed-room for a snug laundry, so 
 that the washing should not be in the kitchen, where Miriam had 
 her work. He had had a new drain opened, and bought a stove 
 for this work with a stationary copper boiler, beside the clothes- 
 boiler. Miriam leaves the clothes-bags there, locks the door 
 into the kitchen, and allows the laundress to have one key of the 
 laundry door ; therefore, on Monday morning she can come and 
 begin as early as she likes, and she always finds soap, starch, 
 bluing — all that she needs — ready. Now while I was at 
 Helen's the other day, Hannah left her tubs twice to go to the 
 store, once for soap, once for blue. I don't wonder that that 
 girl never gets on quickly with her work. I saw in Miriam's 
 kitchen closet a shelf with plenty of bar-soap cut, and spread to 
 dry, as this saves it in the washing ; she never gives the laun- 
 dress soap that has been drying less than three weeks. It is by 
 small economies and cares, such as this, that large economy is 
 attained. One does not, in a household, make some great fifty. 
 
50 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 or a hundred, or two hundred dollars saving, but it is the 
 little saving of five, ten and twenty-five cent pieces, of half dol- 
 lars and dollars, which in the year mounts up to a goodly sum 
 total, and these savings represent not meanness, but care ; not 
 cutting down the rations of the hired people, not buying inferior 
 tea and flour, and poor butter whereof less will be eaten, but get- 
 ting the best, and in quantity, and then allowing no wasting. 
 Miriam has in her laundry closet a tea-pot and a little caddy 
 with some tea, so that her laundress can make herself a cup of tea ■ 
 as soon as she lights her fire, and thus not be forced to work on 
 faint and hungry until after the family have finished their break- 
 fast ; a plate of rolls or of bread and butter is left beside the tea- 
 pot, and thus the working-woman is heartened for her toils, and 
 can comfortably wait for her later morning meal. Miriam says 
 that next spring she means to have breakfast at half-past seven, 
 and as during the summer Mark will have Mr. Cox's place, he 
 will be home for a five o'clock dinner ; Miriam says she will then 
 have a deal more time to herself, and she means to do all her 
 own dressmaking, and plans for many other undertakings. 
 
 On Saturday, about five o'clock, I called upon Mrs. Burr. I 
 found her in the sewing-room, rolling up a bundle of fragments 
 of cloth. She said : 
 
 " The seamstress has been here a fortnight, and has just gone. 
 Congratulate me ! all our winter sewing is finished ; every item 
 for household or personal wear is complete ; the last button is 
 sewed on, and all articles repose peacefully in their places." 
 
 " You are early," I said ; " it is only the third week in Sep- 
 tember." 
 
 " I always have my summer sewing done in April, and my 
 fall sewing in September; then when hot or cold weather comes 
 suddenly, I shall not hear my household clamoring for garments 
 that are not ready. A careful inventory of our possessions, 
 taken in March and in August, shows me what clothing will be 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 5^ 
 
 needed, and I keep supply always in advance of demand. I 
 begin by cutting out all the work, doing it by degrees as I can 
 spare time. I put the bundles in a large basket here in the 
 sewing-room, and with them the thread, silk, tape, buttons — all 
 the needed materials. The seamstress comes with her machine 
 for a fortnight, and during that stay I devote most of my time 
 to superintending or aiding her work. Then we are done, and 
 before ms lies only the light work of weekly repairs." 
 
 '■ Suppose that you could not afford a seamstress ? " 
 
 " Then I should pursue the same plan, only beginning earlier, 
 and I should put less trimming on the clothes, for I think it is 
 foolish in a house-mother to exhaust her health, and deprive her 
 children of her company, and herself of improvement, merely 
 for the sake of a few tucks, ruffles and puffs, the place of which 
 neat hems and plain edgings can very well supply." 
 
 "And when is the House-cleaning coming off? " I asked. 
 
 " Next week," said Mrs. Burr ; " first the sewing, then the 
 house-cleaning, and if nothing unforeseen occurs, the first of 
 October shall see us ready for winter, our time generally at our 
 own disposal." 
 
 "Ah," I said, " with such management I don't wonder that 
 your family of three sons always find the mother ready to be 
 their guide, philosopher and friend ; that your house looks as if 
 Fairy Order held the helm ; and that you have so much time for 
 beautiful and lucrative work in your studio." 
 
 " Well,'' laughed Mrs. Burr, " I was born with a mania for 
 order." 
 
 " Of order," I replied, " it can be said as Shakspeare says of 
 greatness. Some are born orderly, some become orderly, and 
 others have order thrust upon them. You were born with a 
 talent for order. Mrs. Winton says Hester will become orderly, 
 and Miriam was, when I first took her, very disorderly, but by 
 constant training she had order thrust upon her, and now it 
 reigns in her home." 
 
52 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Order," said Mrs. Burr, " is called heaven's first law ; the 
 Apostle bids us, ' Let all things be done decently and in order.' 
 If knowledge is the mainspring of a home, order is the balance- 
 wheel ; fully half of Household miseries arise from a lack of 
 Order." 
 
 Pursuing my investigations in regard to Order in the Home, 
 I concluded that I could not do better than walk out to the 
 Ridge Farm and pay a visit to my Cousin Ann. We do not 
 know who sat for the charming portrait of the wise Woman in 
 Proverbs : Cousin Ann might have done so, if she had been 
 living in Solomon's time. Cousin Ann is some years older than 
 I am, and when I was young I often paid her long visits ; also 
 once I spent a winter with her. The eight-day clock, heired 
 from Cousin Reijben Ridge's father, did not run with any more 
 perfect smoothness and regularity than Cousin Ann's household. 
 At first I could not understand why it was that accidents and 
 unexpected occurrences, guests or sickness, never threw the 
 Home into confusion : things went on just the same whatever 
 happened. Cold weather came remarkably early : well, no 
 worry about heavier clothes, for Cousin Ann had made them 
 ready while the weather was warm. Some one was called off on 
 a journey : no cries of not being prepared, for Cousin Ann always 
 had clothes in readiness in excess of demand. The family 
 were hungrier than usual, or an extra hand was called in : the 
 bread did not give out and precipitate an extra baking day, be- 
 cause Cousin Ann always baked more than she thought would 
 be needed. I asked her : "And if that ' more ' is not eaten at 
 table, is it wasted?" She replied: " Not at all; then I have 
 stale bread for toast, for puddings, for stuflfing fowls ; when all 
 the bread is eaten, then I make other kind of puddings, stew the 
 fowls instead of roasting them — though they are delightful 
 stuffed with mashed potato — and we go without the toast." 
 
 Yes, indeedj the old clock might have got out of order, 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 53 
 
 though it never did, but Cousin Ann's house could not get out 
 of order. Well, as I said, I set off for Cousin Ann's on a 
 delicious May morning, which made the three-miles' walk seem 
 a very short one. Sarah, Cousin Ann's daughter, was at the 
 machine making summer gowns for her mother and herself I 
 asked after Hattie, the younger daughter, who is away at school 
 for a year, and then I said : " Cousin Ann, tell me how it is that 
 your work never drags or falls behind." 
 
 " Why," says Cousin Ann, " I look ahead and see what is 
 coming, and I keep a little in advance of demand. I don't lose 
 an hour in the morning and expect to make it up in the evening: 
 night is the wrong end of the day to borrow from : work never 
 goes briskly in the after part of the day; in the morning it is 
 cool : we are rested, fresh and strong, and then is the time to get 
 the work out of the way." 
 
 " I suppose you have a regular time for everything ? " 
 
 "I should think so," laughed Sarah :" a regular month for 
 house-cleaning and heavy sewing, and meat-curing and fruit- 
 drying ; a regular week for gathering herbs, for putting by winter 
 bedding, and clothes in the big chests — all mended before put 
 by: a regular day for sweeping, cellar-cleaning, baking, churn- 
 ing ; a regular hour for milking, hunting eggs, feeding chicks ; a 
 regular minute for rising and retiring, for breakfast, dinner and 
 tea; give Hattie the day of the week and the hour of the day^ 
 and she knows what we are doing here at home." 
 
 " Well," said Cousin Ann, smiling, and setting her pudding 
 in the oven, " that is the way to get through. Nothing is for- 
 gotten : nothing is left undone. This, for instance, is the week 
 when the herbs are cut and dried, while they are green and 
 strong ; all the neighbors look to me for simple herbs. This 
 week my girl washes the blankets, suns the heavy quilts, and 
 I clean, mend and put by furs, thick clothes, winter hats, and 
 winter bedding, and Sarah finishes the summer sewing. In the 
 
54 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 fall it will be a pleasure to take out clean whole things which 
 have lain packed in camphor and lavender ; we also shall be all 
 ready for haying and harvesting with the extra cooking. Just 
 now my girl churns every morning ; while she does that, I get 
 breakfast, and little Jack sets the table and brings wood for the 
 box, and feeds the chicks ; Sarah meantime is making beds, 
 filling water-pitchers, getting the sitting-room to rights, and the 
 hall and front porch. When we sit down to breakfast the house 
 is clean. As soon as breakfast is over. Jack cleans up the back- 
 door yard, and gets from the garden the lettuce or young greens 
 for dinner : then he's off to school ; I, as soon as we finish the 
 breakfast, go to the spring-house to the butter and milk : Sarah 
 attends to the pudding or biscuit baking, or on ironing day .sets 
 at the fine ironing, and the girl does up the breakfast-dishes, 
 cleans the kitchen and makes the vegetables ready for dinner. 
 On washing day Dick churns before breakfast so that the giri 
 can get on with the wash. It is easy enough, all of it, if you 
 know fairly what you want done, and how to do it, and then 
 don't dawdle away any time thinking what to do first, and who 
 shall do it." 
 
 " I always thought Order was a mainspring in house-work," I 
 said, " and now I am sure of it : how could any one get on with 
 farm-work without it?" 
 
 " There are plenty who try it," said Cousin Ann, " and they 
 are fretted sick and grow old before their time, besides being 
 hindered in family comfort, and in making money. And there 
 is another thing to be observed in Order: don't crowd work. 
 Notice the clock : it ticks one second at a time, and gives 
 each second its due. Some folks kill themselves trying to 
 wash, iron, bake and clean, all on one day. We bake twice a 
 week, and one of the baking days, is also ironing day: that is 
 Tuesday, for it saves having such a big fire on an extra day. 
 When I was doing my own work and my family was smaller I 
 
ORDER IN THE HOME. 55 
 
 never did any baking but bread on ironing day, so as not to 
 over-do myself; now I bake what I please, and Sarah and 
 the girl do the ironing. I can tell you; Sophronia, if mothers 
 would only look at the matter fairly, they would see that an 
 example and habit of Order was one of the nicest dowries 
 they could give a daughter : one to prolong her life, to build 
 up her home, and be always a source of comfort to hersell 
 and family." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ECONOMY IN THE HOMlL 
 POUNDS AND PENCE. 
 
 iO>j| DON'T think our little town ever before saw such truiy 
 )1;| hard times as we are passing through now. Our bank, 
 "^ which we always thought as safe as the Bank of Eng- 
 land, has failed. Its fall dragged down two of our 
 largest mercantile houses. A fire last autumn destroyed a manu- 
 factory, where some two hundred of our working-people found 
 employment. The flood in the spring damaged the roads and 
 some of our public works, and so our taxes have increased. 
 There is hardly any one about here that does not feel the 
 pressure of these hard times. Economy must be the order of the 
 day. But what especially strikes me is, the various methods in 
 which people practise their economy, and the different effect it 
 has on their minds. Now some are ashamed of it, and had as 
 soon be caught stealing as saving. 
 
 Among our other troubles, a railroad, in which a good many 
 of us had invested, stopped paying dividends, and so our 
 incomes are lessened. I saw that I must reduce my expenses, 
 and I sat down to consider how. I did not wish to cut down 
 my giving, for the harder the times are the more need there is 
 of "charity. I had calculated to lay out about fifty dollars on 
 my winter wardrobe, in work and material. I cut that down to 
 ten, just enough to make over by myself what I had on hand ; 
 it would be a pity if I were ashamed to dress according to my 
 
 means at my time of life. I always had kept a big fire all 
 (56) 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 57 
 
 winter in the parlor : it looks well, and I have the room comfort- 
 able to see my friends. However, my dining-room is nice and 
 always in order — I can see my friends there : that parlor must 
 be shut for the winter. I keep only one servant, Martha ; she 
 is very efficient, and I have paid her very high wages. I said 
 to her : " Martha, my income is much lessened this year, and I 
 cannot pay such high wages as I have done. I think, however, 
 you are worth all you can get, and if you can find another place, 
 where they will give you what you have now, it will be right 
 for you to take it." • 
 
 Martha said she would think about it. At the end of a week 
 she said she would stay for whatever I could give. She 
 remarked that a good home was a thing worth keeping; that 
 when hard times pressed on everybody, she did not expect to 
 be the only one to escape. She was very sorry that I was 
 pressed for means, for her brother had been thrown out of work 
 and could hardly feed his large family, and Martha had thought 
 of asking me to allow her niece, ten years old, to come to us 
 for her board ; that would relieve her parents of her support, 
 and would put the child where, by learning to be a skilled 
 servant, she could be in the way of making her living. 
 
 I thought this over. Surely it was a work of charity to help 
 the poor man provide for his children. The little girl would be 
 greatly benefited. In hard times it becomes every one to help 
 his neighbor. I called Martha. 
 
 " Martha, if we took Ann, do you think that by a little 
 closer economy in the house we could provide for her board ? 
 We have never been wasteful, and we must not be mean ; but, 
 possibly, we could manage the cooking a little more econom- 
 ically, and have it just as good, and it will be an advantage 
 for Ann to see the most scrupulous care exercised in the 
 household." 
 
 Now this was putting Martha in a position where her inteiesta 
 
58 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 would be my interests. She replied: "Well, ma'am, if you're 
 so kind as to take Ann, I'll not let her cost you a cent, nor 
 make a particle of trouble." 
 
 " Very well," I said ; " bring her here, and train her carefully, 
 for my niece, Mrs. Rogers, will want a girl some day, and that 
 will be a fine place for Ann, if she is deserving." 
 
 Shortly after this, Kitty Merry, a seamstress, came in. She 
 complained of the hard times, and of lack of work. She has a 
 dollar a day with her machine. I asked : 
 
 "Do you pay more for your lodging than last year?" 
 
 She said, " No." 
 
 So I said, " Well, as times are hard, why do you not reduce 
 your price to seventy-five cents a day? People are ^onomizing 
 in everything." 
 
 " But I'm worth a dollar as much as ever." 
 
 " Very true ; but why expect to be the only one who does 
 not feel the pressure? You must sacrifice as do the rest." 
 
 " I think it is wrong for folks to begin their cutting down on 
 the work-people," said Kitty. 
 
 "All do not begin there. I began on my wardrobe, on the 
 number of my fires, and on my preserves and cake, and then to 
 the wages. You must reflect that there will be even larger 
 demands on our charities than usual. It is better for you to 
 lower your prices, and get full work at seventy-five cents a day, 
 than half work at a dollar ; when you are out you get your board- 
 ing. An employer finds his income cut down from two thousand 
 to fifteen hundred, and he proposes to pay his servant two and 
 a half instead of three dollars. The servant gets her board 
 and washing just as usual, but cries out against losing one-sixth 
 of her cash income, when the master has lost one-fourth of his. 
 The working-classes refuse to take less wages ; the employers 
 presently find that they can get on without hiring servants ; 
 suddenly there is a host of the unemployed living on their past 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 59 
 
 savings, borrowing of each other, or going in debt ; and then a 
 loud cry of need and of working-people in destitution arises, and 
 if employers hire them again, it is at a greater reduction than 
 was first offered. Wages rose with flush times, and they must 
 fall with close times. Masters and servants are virtually in one 
 boat, and must share the same storms and calms." 
 
 " Well, Miss Sophronia," said Kitty, " is that fair to divide the 
 servant's little, because the master loses of his much? You say 
 the hired girl loses a sixth of her wages ; but it costs her just as 
 much to buy a yard of merino as it does her mistress ; and 
 takes just as many yards for her gown." 
 
 " It appears to me, Kitty, that people should provide for them- 
 selves according to their station in life. I don't see that the 
 maid must buy merino, because her mistress does, nor that she 
 must have three frills and a train, because a banker's wife does. 
 Why, Kitty, must you fret yourself to death for money to buy 
 two or three button kid gloves, and button boots, and aprons 
 with edging, because Mrs. Hand wears them ? She always has 
 had these things. In the providence of God she was born to it. 
 You can get good thread gloves, neat hemmed aprons, laced 
 or elastic boots for half the money, and why not be suited wit"h 
 them ? As a child you went bare-footed and bare-handed, and 
 wore blue check, and no shame to you ; you were always 
 healthy, honest, cheerful, useful and esteemed; why torture 
 yourself to keep pace with fashions of a sphere pecuniarily 
 beyond your reach ? Some day you may find large means at 
 your command : be sure you will know how to spend them 
 without any previous practice." 
 
 "And," said Kitty, " you think I'd better reduce my prices ? " 
 
 " Yes, and your expenses. Don't be ashamed of untrimmed, 
 turned, or neatly mended clothes ; don't be ashamed of calico. 
 You'll always look like a lady, if you cultivate the manners and 
 scrupulous neatness of a true lady; and nothing is so unrefined 
 as cheap finery." 
 
60 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Mary Semple came to-day, complaining that she could not 
 get laundry work ; people were giving out less ; she was out of 
 work, and her expenses were the same as ever. I asked her 
 what she had a dozen ; she said, promptly, " a dollar, and for 
 rough-dry, half a dollar, and dresses were extra, and when she 
 went out, a dollar a day." I said to her: 
 
 "Just give out that you'll take clothes at seventy-five cents a 
 dozen, and thirty cents for rough-dry, and reduce your price 
 for going out twenty-five cents : you'll get work enough." 
 
 " But I'm worth as much as ever," said Mary. 
 
 " True ; but people cannot give it. Hard times pinch the 
 moneyed classes, and they pass your share on to you ; if you 
 won't take it cheerfully in lessened wages, it will be forced on 
 you in no work. Half a loaf is better than no bread. You 
 made no trouble about a rise in wages. I remember when fifty 
 cents was a day's wages, and fifty cents a dozen good pay 
 for washing. What laundress grumbled when prices doubled ? " 
 
 " I ought to get me work's worth," persisted Mary. 
 
 "You can't get something out of nothing," I said ; " nor more 
 cash out of a purse than goes in. What you have a right to 
 claim is prompt pay when your work is done. People have no 
 right to ask you to take your pay in driblets when you do the 
 work promptly, nor to keep waiting and coming for your pay 
 when you served them promptly. You estimate people's means 
 by houses which they bought and furnished in flush times. 
 You forget that they have to pay taxes and keep those houses 
 up, and that their property is often an embarrassment in hard 
 times." 
 
 "I'd take the property and'Ca^e. embarrassment, willing! " cried 
 Mary. 
 
 " Very likely ; but the Lord has not given us our own choice 
 of evils. If he had we'd manage to make fools of ourselves 
 somehow or other." 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 61 
 
 "And you don't know any one to help me, Miss Sophronia," 
 urged Mary. 
 
 " Yes, you can help yourself by lowering your prices, and 
 economizing a little closer ; so doing you will tide over these 
 hard times." 
 
 Wherever I go, whatever caller I receive, there is the same 
 cry of hard times and of economy, and for the last there are 
 dozens of methods. Mrs. Black, for instance, has taken her 
 children out of school, taken a poor servant in place of a 
 very good one, stopped her contributions, given up her church 
 pew, discontinued her magazines and newspapers, while her 
 two grown daughters are just as idle, and the family are just 
 as dressy as ever. Now she calls that economy — / dorii. 
 
 I went to see Helen. Frank's salary has been cut down, and 
 his railroad stock is bringing him nothing. Helen was quite 
 unhappy. 
 
 " What am I to do ? " she cried. " We have five hundred a 
 year less to live on, and I don't know where to lessen expenses. 
 Now I must have a new silk dress : that will cost a hundred 
 dollars." 
 
 "Yes," I said; "and then you will want a new set of lace and 
 a new hat to wear with it, and some other new things, and they 
 v/ill be fifty dollars more." 
 
 "And where is the money to come from ? " queried Helen. 
 
 " Why not give up the silk ? Your dark -blue and youj 
 brown silks are good." 
 
 " But I've had them ever since I was married, and how it 
 looks ! — always the same old dresses." 
 
 " But they are handsome, and with Kit;ty Merry's, help you 
 can put them into this year's style. You will then feel no need 
 of the little extras which the new silk would demand. Your last 
 winter's ihat, rejuvenated by your own good taste, would do very 
 Well. With no fine new dress to display, you will care less fo« 
 
62 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 going into society. If you go less, you will be at liberty to 
 entertain less company; and if you entertain less company, 
 your housekeeping expenses will be lessened. Moreover, if 
 you go out less you will have time to attend to your own baby, 
 and you can dismiss your nurse-maid, who is very careless, and 
 is likely to ruin your child, and the little one will thrive better 
 under mother-care. I will lend you my little Ann now and 
 then to help Hannah. If you will give up the idea of the new 
 silk, you will, in its consequences, save some two hundred 
 dollars. You will thus be likely to keep out of debt ; and don't 
 hang the mill-stone of debt about Frank's neck : it may ruin 
 him ; and with an increasing family, debts will increase instead 
 of being cancelled." 
 
 "But dear me, aunt! No nurse-maid! no new clothes! To 
 withdraw from going into, and giving companies! How it will 
 look ! It would be an open declaration of poverty.'' 
 
 " Not poverty ; but of needed economy, and brave honesty." 
 
 " But, aunt, what will people say? " 
 
 " Then you get the silk, and you keep the nurse for the sake 
 of. strangers' tongues ? It is a mere matter of pride ? Now, 
 Helen, don't let pride get a foothold in your household. What 
 , does Franklin say of it ? ' Pride is as loud a beggar as want, 
 .and twice as saucy. When you have bought one fine thing 
 you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of a 
 I piece; but it is easier to suppress the first desire, than to satisfy 
 . all that follow.' Come, Helen : to save is to earn : to earn is 
 >your husband's part, to save is yours. Frank will be happier at 
 home with you and his child than out in society ; he will like 
 (privacy more than the company that is bringing him into debt. 
 'Every wise woman buildeth her house, but the foolish plucketh 
 it down with her hands.' Every house-mother should begin to 
 ,}ay the foundations of her children's fortunes, and not introduce 
 -idebt as the moth and the rust which will destroy all accumula- 
 tions." 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 63 
 
 "That is true, aunt, but see how mean it makes me feel. 
 There are the Blacks all out in fine new clothes, and Mrs. West- 
 cott has bought new parlor carpet and curtains." 
 
 " You mean she has gone in debt for them. Now, Helen, we 
 must not measure our expenses by other people's outlays, but 
 by our own purse. How would you view Martha's wanting a 
 Lyons silk because I wear one ? In home living every one is 
 emphatically a law unto themselves. It is a false sentiment 
 which demands display: this emulation in domestic establish- 
 ments often lays the foundation of ruin. Women ought to be 
 able to create a public sentiment in favor of economy and of a 
 simple and delicate taste in the administration of their homes : 
 they could create such a taste only that they are ashamed of 
 practising economy, and hide it as a crime. They respect and 
 imitate the showy, rather than the solid. Now, Helen, where 
 you stand three roads meet. Indulge your desires, your emula- 
 tion of those who spend more than you can afford to spend, and 
 you will pass along the road to ruin. . Frank will become a 
 broken and discouraged man, and probably die early and in 
 debt. If you enter into no debts or extravagances, you may 
 keep on just as you are, with a very small margin to work 
 upon, and nothing laid up for a growing family, always in appre- 
 hension of disaster. By careful economy, living within your 
 means, saving a little, and being your own law in expenditure, 
 you may enter the road of assured prosperity. The hand of the 
 diligent maketh rich." 
 
 " You couldn't get very rich, aunt, with such servants as mine : 
 they waste and break so much." 
 
 " Then if you keep one less servant there is so much less of 
 this cause of complaint ; if you will go about your own house 
 more there will be less breakage and waste : the eye and hand 
 of the mistress always present is a great safeguard in these par- 
 t.cuh,/-s. As to breakages, they are the result generally of care- 
 
64 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 lessness, and sen'ants have no right to be careless. For their 
 own sakes as well as your own, you should talk the matter over 
 kindly with them,, and tell them that they must replace what 
 they break. It is well to know how to excuse, to forgive, and 
 to relax your rule on occasion, but it is no honesty to yourself, 
 nor kindness to your servant, to allow her to recklessly destroy 
 your property. In your house she should be schooled in care 
 and in honesty, so shall she be more fitted rightly to direct her 
 own. Talk over matters with Hannah : tell her frankly that you 
 must use stricter economy; that you shall do without a nurse, 
 and that she cannot have quite so much time for herself; that 
 you can no longer afford to replace her breakages, and that as 
 you shall not allow your narrower means to reduce her wages, 
 you expect her to help you save carefully in your house. Why, 
 Helen, as I came up here, I saw Hannah scrubbing the porches, 
 with half a bar of fresh soap lying melting in her pail ; and she 
 explained a terrible smell of smoke in the kitchen, by saying 
 that she was burning up the bone and skin and trimmings of a 
 ham, because ' if she threw them out it made the rats worse, and 
 the rats were eating up all your potatoes.' Now, child, what 
 sort of economy is this ? All that rough fat should be saved in 
 a place secure from rats, and Hannah should each month make 
 up a little keg of soft-soap for scrubbing and dish-washing; and 
 Hannah should be taught not to leave her bar-soap melting in 
 the pail ; while, as for the rats, you should with a good trap, 
 and caustic-potash laid at their holes, declare persistent war until 
 such destructive pests are banished. If you permit mice and 
 rats to destroy your provisions, and stray cats to ramble into 
 your cellar — as I just saw one doing and returning with the 
 leg of a fowl — there will be in your house a hundred little 
 leaks, which it will take more than a hundred one-dollar bills to 
 stop." 
 "Oh, aunt, what shall I do!" cried poor Helen. 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. gg 
 
 " Practise economy as a Fine Art: make a duty and a pleasure 
 of it ; it is the mortar wherein you lay up the walls of home ; 
 if it is lacking, or is poor in quality, the home building will 
 crumble. Don't be ashamed of economy: study it; consult 
 about it; don't confound it with meanness : economy is the nurse 
 of liberality. Meanness is going in debt for luxury: is keeping 
 behind-hand the wages our work-people have earned : is making 
 a show on the street and withholding charity : is presenting cake 
 and confections ostentatiously to our callers, and stinting the 
 kmu or quantity of our servants' food." 
 
 Then I invited Helen to take tea with me next day, and meel 
 Miriam and Mrs. Winton. 
 
 Then I went over to Miriam's. She was in her spare-room, 
 and called me to come up. 
 
 "What, Miriam," I cried, "a handsome new black silk!" 
 
 " No, indeed," said Miriam, " it is the old one that I have worn 
 this four years ; " and she took it from the bed to display it. 
 
 "And how ever did you make it look so nicely ? " 
 
 " I sponged it with a teaspoonful of ammonia, mixed in haW a 
 pint of warm, weak coffee ; then I pressed it. I sponged and 
 pressed it on the right side as I meant to turn it. The velvet of 
 the cuffs, collar, pockets, button covers, and so on, is from my 
 old black velvet waist." 
 
 " But that was so wrinkled and mussed ! " 
 
 " I steamed it thoroughly, laying it wrong side down on a wire 
 netting over the boiler, shaking it a little now and then ; it made 
 it look almost like new. See, here is my old black cashmere : 
 I ripped it up, washed it in warm water where soap bark had 
 been steeped, and irohed it on the wrong side. I shall get a 
 couple of yards of silk for trimming, and make it as good as 
 new. Here, too, is my ancient brown merino, ripped, sponged 
 and pressed, with a small investment in fringe and velveteen — it 
 must come out a new gown j so I buy nothing this fall. Yoa 
 
66 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 know Mark expected two hundred dollars advance in his salary, 
 and instead, he gets one hundred less, so I must economize 
 closer than ever. Mrs. Burr told me how to rejuvenate my 
 gowns, and she has taught me several new ways of economizing 
 for my table." 
 
 " Mrs. Burr is a perfect Domestic EncyclopEedia," I said. 
 " Pray tell me some of her suggestions : I am myself retrenching, 
 in my own behalf, and for the sake of my neighbors." 
 
 "The first thing I think of is cheese," laughed Miriam. 
 " Mark is extravagantly fond of it, and we pay eighteen cents a 
 pound. Mrs. Burr says she cuts two or' three pounds up into 
 squares, and puts it in a very dry place ; then it always is grated 
 before it comes to the table. Used in this way, it is much more 
 delicate than cut in pieces, and one pound of cheese goes further 
 than two as generally used. Sometimes she varies the dish by 
 mixing a little parsley, chopped very fine, among the grated 
 cheese. She says her physician told her that people do not 
 understand the virtues of parsley : it is excellent for the nerves, 
 and for use in rheumatism, and should be constantly used in 
 preparing dishes. I have learned from Mrs. Burr to make 
 several new soups ; and a white soup made of fresh bones, with 
 rice, a little macaroni or tapioca, chopped potatoes and chopped 
 parsley in it, is delightful, if you put a tablespoonful of catsup 
 and a teaspoonful of grated cheese in each dish as you serve it. 
 The last time I took tea at Mrs. Burr's, she had a very pretty 
 dish of bread, cut thin in diamonds or rounds, spread with 
 butter, and then with grated cheese, and laid on a little china 
 dish, with a wreath of parsley around it." 
 
 "I remember," I said, "that Hester told me she should, in her 
 housekeeping, use a deal of parsley, because the ancients did so; 
 that both Virgil and Horace note it as holding an honorable 
 place at festivities." 
 
 " Mrs. Burr," continued Miriam, " knows how to use up little 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 67 
 
 things in her household, in a very appetizing way. You know 
 one often has a little jelly left from a meal, or from making a 
 cake — only a spoonful or two goes a good way, attractively, if 
 bread is cut thin in pretty shapes, and spread lightly with the 
 jelly. Mrs. Burr said when her children were little these 'jelly 
 breads ' were their delight, and often served them in place of 
 rich cake or meat at tea, which- she did not think safe so near 
 their bed-time, while the good bread, spread with fruit-jelly, was 
 wholesome for them. The last time I was at Helen's, Hannah 
 had thrown away half a loaf of bread and a dish of broken 
 pieces, which she said were getting mouldy, and were of no use. 
 1 sent her two recipes which I had from Mrs. Burr. Here they 
 are." 
 
 Miriam handed me her note-book, and I copied the recipe 
 for — • 
 
 Bread Sauce. — " Cut stale bread in fine pieces ; mix with it 
 pepper, salt, sweet herbs, a little fine chopped onion, if desired ; 
 moisten with warm water, and stir in meat-gravy or soup-stock 
 until it is nearly as soft as bread-pudding ; bake half an hour. 
 If more convenient, milk and butter can be used instead of the 
 gravy." 
 
 The other recipe was — 
 
 Bread for Breakfast. — " Dry pieces of stale bread until they 
 are. hard all through. When needed for use put in an earthen 
 dish milk enough to half cover them, a spoonful of butter, and 
 one of sugar; cover tight, and let them simmer. Smooth a 
 teaspoonful of corn-starch or of wheat flour in a little milk, and 
 stir it in ; serve as soon as the bread is well softened without 
 breaking." 
 
 " They are both nice for variety, and serve as a good way to 
 keep bread-crusts and scraps from wasting. You can do 
 crackers the same way as that Breakfast Bread." 
 
 " One good turn deserves another," I said. " I will write ir 
 your note-book my recipe for — 
 
gg THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 "Mock Macaroni. — Take broken crackers of any kind ; crumb 
 them up rather fine, and stir into them sweet milk, a little butter, 
 pepper, salt and two tablespoonfuls of grated cheese. Have 
 enough milk to bake them for three-quarters of an hour; let 
 them be a light brown on top." 
 
 "Apropos of the grated cheese," said Miriam, "last evening 
 Mrs. Black walked into my house, and hunted me up in the 
 dining-room — a liberty which she allows herself For my part 
 I prefer that my dearest friend should knock. She looked at 
 the table. 'What! pine-apple cheese! I cannot afford that for 
 my family these times.' ' No/ I said, ' it is common cheese 
 grated.' 
 
 "She looked curiously at me. 'Why did you say that? 
 Now I would have let it pass for pine-apple.' I replied, ' Mrs. 
 Black, economy is honorable, and I am not ashamed of practising 
 it. I should be ashamed of any extravagance. If I did not 
 need, as I do, to economize for myself, I should feel it a duty to 
 do so for the sake of others who are in straits.' " 
 
 Miriam and I went down-stairs. I' remarked: "Your work 
 basket looks like a rainbow." 
 
 "Another bit of economy: all my neck-ties are getting made 
 into the latest styles. This cream silk washes as well as muslin; 
 so, washed and ironed, it is getting a frill of nice lace around the 
 ends, and appearing in a new character. I think this black one 
 will be lovely." 
 
 She had made the scarf-tie into a bow, button-holed the edges 
 with rose-colored silk, and embroidered a pair of rose-buds in 
 each of the ends. A pink silk tie had also taken the form of a 
 knot, and she had transferred some elegant embroidery on the 
 ends. I should have thought it had just cost two dollars. 
 
 " Mark Rogers will never be poor with you for a wife„ 
 Miriam." I said. " He got a fortune in the wife who said she 
 had no capital. Yours, my dear, is perpetual capital." 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 69 
 
 I engaged Miriam to come to tea next day, and then intended 
 to go home, but Mrs. Smalley called me in. She was com- 
 plaining as usual — a woman with many good points, but who 
 does not know how to manage, and is chronically indignant 
 because her sister is richer than she is. Well, I went in. She 
 said: 
 
 " I tapped for you. Miss Sophronia, because I never make a 
 stranger of you, and you usually manage to give me some 
 advice when we are in a tight place — as me and Mary most 
 generally are. I do feel vexed about Mary. She's as nice a 
 girl, and as pretty a girl, if I do say it, as her cousins, and it 
 is hard that they have everything they want, and she gets 
 nothing." 
 
 " Pshaw, ma," said Mary. 
 
 "Its so" said her mother. " Now Smalley has just said he 
 can't afford for us to have the dressmaJ<er here this fall, and we 
 must do our own sewing. 'Twon't be such a heavy job, for 
 Smalley is so short of cash we'll get precious little to sew on — 
 and there's Sara's girls all out in bran, span, new clothes." 
 
 " Pshaw, ma," said Mary, again. 
 
 "It's so," retorted her mother ; " and we get little enough time 
 to sew. We've had no girl since last spring." 
 
 " But you are only three in the family, and of the three you 
 two are grown women — perfectly well, also. I should think you 
 would get the work done easily, having fully half of every day 
 for sewing, or such quiet work." 
 
 " Well, we don't, somehow. I keep things neat as wax, any 
 one will allow that ; and nothing in the kitchen goes to waste : 
 we make our own soap, and our own bread and yeast; and 
 half this house is covered with rag carpets I made myself; and 
 just see these rugs — a dozen of them in this house — Mary has 
 braided out of strips of old woollen and flannel clothes." ' 
 
 " They are very pretty and useful." I said. " I see the braids 
 
70 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 are made heavy, and_ are sewed together by the edges, either in 
 round or oval shape." 
 
 " Yes ; and I must say a girl that is that industrious ought to 
 have as nice clothes as Sara's girls. But no — not she." 
 
 " Pshaw, ma ! " reiterated Mary. 
 
 "Its sol' insisted her mother. "And now, Miss Sophronia, 
 what would you do in our place ? I want Mary to be nice. 
 And she gets invited out with her cousins, and she won't go ; 
 because she says they have such a power of nice things, like 
 other young girls, and she has none. Her best frock is all out 
 of fashion; and she has no fancy aprons, no nice ties, nor spen- 
 cers, nor jackets, nor pretty collars ; and if I set out to buy 
 them it would take a mint of money, and when Smalley says he 
 can't — he can't.' Why the money he has laid out for her hardly 
 will buy one good dress, to say nothing of the other things ; and 
 what would you do if you were me ? " 
 
 " It seems never to enter your mind, Mrs. Smalley," I said, 
 " that you might possibly use what you have on hand." 
 
 " We never have anything on hand," said she. " We wear 
 our things clear out, or outgrow 'em, and then they're done 
 for." 
 
 "Mother never throws away things," said Mary, "and we 
 have a whole trunk of bits of things, and a closet solid full of 
 old worn-out, outgrown dresses and jackets. But they're none 
 of them worth anything." 
 
 " You see, Mrs. Smalley," I said, " when you want something 
 in recent fashions, you go and buy one new thing and have it 
 made up. You never make over your clothes, or use the 
 dresses of past years to remodel for this year. What I would 
 do would be to keep that money for something else, and not 
 buy Mary a new gown at all." 
 
 They both looked dismayed and astonished. 
 
 " If you'll promise to exactly follow my directions," I said, 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 1\ 
 
 " I'll engage that you shall fit Mary out nicely with the money 
 Mr. Smalley gave you ; and what is more, you know I shall not 
 lalk about it." 
 
 " Trust you for that, Miss Sophronia," said Mrs. Smalley. 
 " I says to Mary the other day : ' I dare say anything to Miss 
 Sophronia, for it 'ud take the Resurrection Angel himself to 
 aiing out what's once been buried in her ears.' " 
 
 I said to Mary : "As for that closet of clothes, you know 1 
 saw it last winter, when I was here while, your mother was sick." 
 
 'And I'll never forget your kindness if I live to be a thou- 
 sand," interrupted Mrs. Smalley. 
 
 " So come, Mary," I said ; " you and I will go up-stairs:, and 
 if you'll take my niece, Mrs. Rogers, into our partnership, I'll 
 agree to teach you what shall be worth a fortune to you." 
 
 Mary and I went up-stairs. Mary said : " Do please show me 
 how to be nice on a little money, so that mother will not fret so 
 at the difference between me and my cousins." 
 
 I like Mary: she is a friendly, industrious girl. I remember 
 once when I was ill she came to my house every day, insisting 
 on being of some use, even to helping Martha. I thought I 
 might not only relieve her of some present annoyance, but might 
 give her a lesson of use for all her life. Mrs. Smalley is one of 
 the kind of people who save aimlessly ; opposed to wasting, she 
 hoards, but her stores are practically wasted, because she puts 
 them to no use. I wished to teach Mary to use what she had 
 before purchasing more. 
 
 Mary opened the trunk of fragments, odds and ends of all 
 kinds, collected during a score of years, and neatly rolled in 
 bundles. I said to Mary : " Here is a parcel composed of silk 
 and ribbon : those shall be your neck-ties." 
 
 " There is scarcely anything nice there," she replied. 
 
 " You must take them to Mrs. Rogers, and she will show you 
 how, by the aid of a little embroidery silk, to create use .-xnd 
 
"^2 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 beauty out of these fragments. This Httle roll of embroidery and 
 scraps of edging shall be a nice outfit of collars and cuffs and 
 under-sleeves. Come and spend Friday with me, bringing these, 
 Haifa yard of fine linen, and half a yard of fine lawn, and I will 
 show you how by taste, a little knowledge of transfer work, and 
 your neat sewing, you can provide yourself ten dollars' worth of 
 pretty articles for less than a dollar. It is early in the season : 
 let the matter of your dress go until you are encouraged by the 
 wonders which you perform in other ways." I opened the closet. 
 " Here is an out-grown dress of barred muslin. That shall make 
 you two white aprons with ruffles ; get it ripped and washed. 
 And here is the pretty embroidered muslin you had when you 
 were twelve." 
 
 "The nicest frock I ever had," sighed Mary. 
 
 " Rip it up : with the aid of edging and insertion from that 
 bundle, you shall have a lovely fancy sacque to wear to evening 
 companies." 
 
 Mary's face brightened up. " I believe we can make use of 
 these old things, and I shall go right to work ripping and 
 pressing." 
 
 When I went home I casually remarked to Martha that I 
 had been at Mrs. Smalley's. 
 
 " I hope she was redd up, and fit to see you, ma'am." 
 
 "Oh, yes: but really, Martha, I cannot see why Mrs. Smalley's 
 work occupies all her time ; she and Mary are neat, good 
 workers, and have only Mr. Smalley to work for in that six- 
 roomed house." 
 
 " Dear knows, ma'am," said Martha ; " Mrs. Smalley is busy 
 enough, if that is all ; she is one of those folks who would stand 
 and jump in a bucket all day, and then wonder why they didn't 
 get on far, when they kept agoing all the time." With which 
 parable Martha left me to my meditations. 
 
 Miriam came early next day^ and I told her about Marv 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 73 
 
 Smalley, and asked her to invite the girl to spend a day or two 
 with her, and then teach her how to make up the pretty articles 
 of dress which she needed. " She will prove an apt pupil, and I 
 wish you would show her what you have done for your own 
 wardrobe : I know you are not ashamed of your contrivings in 
 that line." 
 
 " Oh, by no means : quite proud, on the contrary ! " 
 
 "And then, my dear, do let her stay all day, and help you get 
 dinner and tea, and expound to her your ' order ' and your 
 method of getting work done. \t may go far to making a happy 
 woman of her, and her future home a place of content and not 
 of worry. You, Miriam, have a real genius for housekeeping, 
 and you should in this way let your light shine on your young 
 neighbor: it will perhaps influence all her life." 
 
 " Certainly: I shall be glad to have her, and help her; I will 
 write a note now, and let Ann take it to her." 
 
 So Miriam wrote her note, and then began to tell me of a 
 "Mother's Meeting" which had been started. Some of our 
 ladies meet with poor women who are now in unusual straits 
 from lack of work; they give them materials to make up cloth- 
 ing, or sell them at wholesale prices what they themselves have 
 purchased at such prices; or even lower, things which, having 
 funds in hand, they have bought at auction sales. They en 
 courage the women to bring clothing for their families to be 
 remodelled or mended ; and spend the time of sewing in dis- 
 cussing domestic aiifairs, in exchanging recipes, in giving informa- 
 tion about domestic economy, and rules for keeping houses 
 healthy, and making cooked food yield its full value to the 
 consumer. " Cousin Ann is President," she added. 
 
 "That is a great charity," I said, "and very kind in you to 
 take part inrit." 
 
 " Indeed, aunt," she replied, " I begin to think charity pays ; 
 I am sure I nave learned in those meetings a great deal that has 
 
74 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 saved me as much money as I have contributed to them. Be 
 sides, the ladies are showing these women how to repair clothes, 
 foot stockings, and do various things, which I had never thought 
 of, and I can make my charity-work go twice as far by knowing 
 these methods." 
 
 Presently Helen and Mrs. Winton came, and the talk soon 
 turned, as I meant it should, on domestic economy. Mrs. Win- 
 ton has lived much abroad, and has thus had an opportunity of 
 observing the home life of many peoples. She talks fluently if 
 she perceives that her hearers are being interested and benefited. 
 I presently led her to my subject. She said :" We Americans 
 are an extravagant people : our land is so wide for its popula' 
 tion, and brings forth, or can bring forth, so much more than its 
 inhabitants consume, that we know nothing of the saving and 
 careful economy of people of the Old World's thronged States. 
 Lavish abundance of common things surrounded our ancestors, 
 and they used it lavishly : we inherited the prodigal habit : but 
 now our cities and some of our districts have a crowded popula- 
 tion, and want is the result of waste. With us a poor laborer's 
 family will spend more and waste more than a family in middle 
 station in Italy, Germany or France ; our middle classes spend 
 and waste what would appall a Frenchman of fortune ; in fact, we 
 seem to lack the very means and methods of saving, which are 
 open to all in the Old World ; we despise saving; we call careful 
 economy penuriousness ; a woman who looks well to the ways 
 of her household here is styled 'stingy:' abroad she is a good 
 housekeeper doing her legitimate duty. Take our way of 
 making coffee: a large quantity of ground coffee is mixed up. 
 with an egg or half an egg, as the case may be, and this is 
 emptied into a coffee-pot of boiling water, and very possibly it 
 is allowed to go on boiling, pouring steam out of the spout. 
 The size of the pot has very little reference to the number of the 
 family; after breakfast from a pint to' three pints of coffee 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 75 
 
 remain over : it may be thrown out, or it may be boiled ovei 
 next morning. Abroad, the French pot rules the day: it is a 
 pot made with two stories of about equal size. The lower one 
 must hold as many cups as the family are likely to use. The 
 upper story has two fine filters. The ground coffee, about half 
 as much as needed for the other style of making, is put in the 
 upper and coarser filter, and slowly over it is poured water 
 sufficient to nearly fill the lower pot, when it shall have worked 
 its way through the second fine filter. No egg, no mixing of 
 any kind is used. The spout and the top have air-tight caps : 
 the coffee is thus hermetically sealed up, and is set back on the 
 stove where it shall keep scalding hot, but in nowise boil. In 
 ten minutes the coffee is all in the lower pot, with every par- 
 ticle of strength from the grounds carried with it, and all its 
 aroma held in itself, and not diffused through the house. Not 
 a particle of grounds reaches the lower pot : you take the cap 
 from the spout, and a clear bright stream of coffee goes into 
 your cup. Boil those grounds afterwards, and there is no color 
 or strength to be found in them. All the coffee is used each 
 day : there is none to throw away, and French pots do not take 
 kindly to the iniquity of coffee boiled over." 
 
 "But," said Helen, " suppose an unexpected guest is at table." 
 " Your Frenchman meets the difficulty by letting some mem- 
 oer of the family quietly go without, or what is better, filling up 
 the grown people's cups, and then pouring a little more boiling 
 water in the pot; and giving the juveniles weaker drink; or he 
 makes his original pot of coffee proportionately stronger, and 
 pours a little boiling water into each cup ; he will manage some 
 way, rather than have coffee to throw out. The foreign house- 
 wife does not tnink it mean to count heads, and then count her 
 potatoes and eggs. She knows whether her family takes one or 
 two apiece of each, and she cooks accordingly; she is wise to 
 •eave a oroper margin of one or two in case of somebody's extrt 
 
76 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 appetite. She does not feel embarrassed, if her son calls for 
 a third egg, calmly to remark that there are no more cooked; and 
 she knows that with his proper quota of eggs and other food, 
 he can complete his meal on bread and butter : she would feel 
 much Inore embarrassed at having food to throw away." 
 
 "And then," said Miriam, "suppose some one's appetite fails, 
 or does not increase to that ' margin of one or two ' ? " 
 
 " Suppose that one egg is left, or one potato. Here, Bridget, 
 or the housewife herself, says, ' one is not worth keeping,' and 
 throws them into the swill-tub. The French housewife is not 
 tempted by that unhappy institution always yawning at hand. 
 On the contrary, suppose the egg is soft-boiled. She drops it 
 into a tin-cup, and makes it hard-boiled at once. One hard- 
 boiled egg chopped fine is what she needs in composing a salad, 
 and the French housekeeper is wise in behalf of health, of good 
 taste, and of the beauty and variety of her table, to have salads 
 innumerable — as many kinds of salads as Bottom had of wigs. 
 There is the egg — the salad shall grace the tea-table. Or, there 
 is the one potato. Your French housewife knows the value of 
 soup ; she does not make a huge soup, and expect her family to 
 dine upon it ; she does not have her soup always of one kind — 
 she varies the kind ; and she has a small dish of soup as a 
 prelude to her dinner: here she serves health and variety. The 
 potato nicely ;ut in wedges shall be one of the ingredients of 
 her soup. The beginning of her soup is generally of bones. She 
 has a stone jat irid the bones are usually trimmed closely out 
 of the uncooked meat, sprii;kled with salt and pepper, and put 
 in this jar, over ivhich a cloth is tied, and it is kept in a very 
 :oo] place. Almost every day, with a few bones and a variety as 
 to other ingredients, jhe will concoct a wonderful soup — a white 
 soup, a brown soup, a clear soup, a vegetable soup — and the 
 spoonful of beans or peas, the few slices of tomato, the remnant 
 of the rice or the macaroni, shall not be ignominiously cast out, 
 
ECONOMY /JV THE HOME. Tj 
 
 but the soup shall be as is most convenient to the stock on 
 hand, and all these fragments, neatly kept, are to go therein. 
 The French are not remarkably religious, but they do follow the 
 monition : ' gather up the fragments that nothing be lost.' In 
 one of our families, suppose that we have a cup of milk left 
 from breakfast ; in our closet is a slice or two of sponge or cup 
 cake, a small saucer of jelly or preserve. In the American 
 household, the milk is frequently thrown out, or one of the 
 children is bidden to ' drink it up.' Biddy adds the preserve or 
 jelly to her own breakfast, ' so she can have the saucer to wash.' 
 The cake is given the children as an interlude to meals, to spoil 
 their appetites. Lo, the foreign housewife ! The cup of milk 
 with an egg, a little flavoring and a trifle of thickening turns to 
 custard ; the cake is cut in thin pieces, spread with the conserve, 
 and laid in a white pudding-dish ; the custard is poured over it ; 
 it goes for ten minutes into the oven ; the white of another egg 
 is, with a little sugar, converted into a meringue, and spread on 
 top; now the yolk of the second egg is beaten with a little 
 cream or milk, and sugar and spice, into a sauce, or instead of 
 the cream, a little home-made wine, or the juice left from some 
 canned fruit is used : and here is a sauce for the dessert. We 
 eat it. Delicious ! What dainty extravagant things these foreign 
 people use ! Instead, we Americans would have thrown away 
 the chief part of this dish, and would have provided for dessert a 
 huge pie, more costly, and not half so wholesome." 
 
 " You mentioned being freed from the yawning of the refuse- 
 pail," I said. "How is that?" 
 
 " There is very little to put in it. The foreign economist has 
 nearly all her vegetables scraped, and not peeled — the thick 
 parings taking away a fourth of the food ; she remembers, 
 perhaps, that the most nourishing and richest part of the food 
 lies close to the skin, or she has simply been taught that she 
 cannot afford to pare it. An old potato, a yam, a carrot, even a 
 
78 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 turnip and a summer squash, can be' scraped, if Biddy thinks so 
 and will take the trouble. Often, also, vegetables are cooked in 
 their skins, and then the skin is pulled off with a knife and fork 
 before serving: this saves the waste of the phosphates and 
 starch in the boiling water. If peeling must be done, the knife 
 is sharp and the peel is very thin. The housewife's eyes are 
 over all her household ; the cook cannot throw out and waste 
 undiscovered. Madame has studied her subject : she knows 
 how long the vegetables, the meat, and the condiments should 
 last, and they are made to reach that requirement. A very 
 small vessel will hold the waste, and if in the country it is at 
 once turned to further use. The foreigner cultivates the 
 unwholesome pig far less than we do : he prefers chickens. ' 
 The housewife, when she has fowls, has the parings and scraps 
 put on the fire in some vessel kept for the purpose ; she stirs in a 
 handful of meal, and a little pepper, and serves her fowls a hot 
 breakfast, to be repaid in more and better eggs, and less cost in 
 feeding. 
 
 " In foreign countries the shops expect to sell in littles : a 
 penny's worth of this, and two-pence worth of that. Exactly 
 what is needed for use is bought, and there is nothing to be 
 wasted. So many people live in ' flats ' or in lodgings, and have 
 little or no cellar and closet-room, that they must buy as they 
 use ; and the shopman does not despise selling in littles : half 
 fiis sales are made in that way. 
 
 " In the matter of fuel, we Americans are terribly wasteful 
 Wood and coal have been dangerously cheap to us. I feel 
 heart-sick when I travel and see grand trees sacrificed for waste 
 in fuel, and mighty trunks and branches rotting on the ground. 
 Along some of our telegraph lines, you will see lying below 
 each pole one or two other poles, moulding and rotting on the 
 ground, waiting for the possible ruin of the standing post, and 
 often that post is cedar, and will continue to stand until the 
 
ECONOMY /TV THE HOME. 79 
 
 waiting poles on the ground have rotted into uselessness. They 
 call this forethought. It is a fool's waste. A shed Here and 
 there along the line, with a pole or two laid on trestles, and so 
 kept sound and fit for use, would be thrift.. I have travelled in 
 Southern Jersey, along swamps and barrens which would have 
 been an Italian's fortune in fuel. In Jersey it rots on the 
 ground, or is burned over 'to get it out of the way ; ' and, maybe, 
 in the burning the woods catch fire, and a thousand dollars 
 worth of good timber is sacrificed. In Italy every particle of 
 vegetation that will burn is used for fuel. Trunks and large 
 limbs go for cord- wood; all the small branches are trimmed up, 
 and sold by the load by themselves ; the twigs and slender bits 
 are gathered by children, sorted into bundles for kindling or for 
 making a light blaze, are tied up with a virte or withe, and are 
 considered worth saving and selling, when these little fascine 
 go to you from the shop at two or three for a cent. The big 
 dead weeds, the mullen and thistle-stalks, the brambles, are cut 
 down, raked together, packed solidly on a cart and carried into 
 the city, and sold to the bakers for heating their ovens. The 
 stumps of old olive trees, the roots of dead olives and vines, the 
 prunings of the vine and olive roots are gathered up, reduced 
 in a mill to a kind of coarse sawdust, pressed into flat cakes to 
 weigh half a pound each, called fumes or smokers, and are sold 
 two or three for a cent, to keep a fire which you wish to leave 
 very low without having it go out. From the pine woods on 
 the hills the cones are gathered ; their resinous wealth does not 
 rot on the ground as here ; but they come by wagon-loads as 
 kindling, and Sell five for a cent, or so much the bushel or hun- 
 dred, as you choose to buy them — great cones, four or five 
 inches in circumference, from the dark, poetic heights of 
 Valombrosa. Children and aged people, who here would be 
 paupers or quarrelling on door-steps, in Italy pick up a spare 
 but honest living g3Xh.Qr'mg fascine, or making the vine prunings 
 
80 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 into fagots and selling them through the streets. A rich Italian 
 would turn pale at our paupers' waste of wood." 
 
 "And how,'' asked Miriam, " have these foreigners learned so 
 much better economy than we?" 
 
 Mrs. Winton replied: "Trouble and sorrow bring always in 
 one way or another their compensations. This economy, 
 whereby these kingdoms are surviving wars and despotisms, and 
 are rehabilitatmg themselves, bearing fruit in their old age, 
 renewing themselves into youth, is the outcome of long ago 
 schooling in tribulation. They have been scourged by famines, 
 by plagues, by ravaging armies, by shameless taxations, and they 
 have been forced since neir earliest times to save every particle 
 that could be turned to any use, to economize with the strictest 
 methods. Now famines have fled before the face of civilization, 
 governments have grown less oppressive, plenty smiles where 
 want was known, and tbe good habits learned in ages of penury 
 will make these nations rich and strong. America must learn 
 this lesson of economy, for the noblest land cannot endure the 
 drain of waste. If people could only be taught that economy is 
 a thing of littles and of individuals, and of every day, and not a 
 thing of masses and of spasmodic efforts, then a true idea would 
 begin to tell upon the habits of our domestic life, and its effects 
 would be seen in general and national prosperity, for the thrift 
 and thriving of the individual is the thrift and thriving of the 
 nation." 
 
 "I should think, at this rate," said Helen, "that the foreign 
 housewife's existence would be a perfect slavery: she must be 
 forever on the watch, sacrificing her time and strength for small, 
 poor savings." 
 
 " In this, as in all our lives," said Mrs. Winton, " order is 
 everything: system is the grand time and strength saver. The 
 housewife inculcates upon children and servants the habit of 
 saving; she notes every deficiency; she has her rules, and hei 
 
ECONOMY m THE HOME. gj 
 
 order qf using and saving. Wiien she goes through her house- 
 hold, if hers happens to be the duty of superintendence rather 
 than of execution, she notes all that is on hand, and orders it to 
 its proper uses ; she descries and checks every waste. It takes 
 no more time nor strength to attend to this thoroughly than to 
 go negligently over the house, chafing at wastes and deficiencies 
 which she has neither energy nor wisdom to correct." 
 
 " Many things that might be kept to be useful,"- said Miriam, 
 " spoil, mould, or grow stale in a temperature a little too warm : 
 what is a good method of preserving such things, especially rf, 
 saving everywhere, one must save also on the ice bill, and buy 
 very little ice, or even none ? " 
 
 "Our foreign economist," said Mrs. Winton, "knows the value 
 of three things: charcoal, evaporation, and a piece of muslin. 
 A bit of thin muslin tied over pots and jars, instead of putting 
 on them a close cover, will keep out flits and dust, and will 
 admit air to aid in preserving things. For mould, every little 
 fragment of it should be quickly removed, and jars or cans 
 where it has been should be scalded and scoured, for mould is a 
 vegetable gro^vth, every particle producing spores, whereby, as 
 by seeds, it reproduces itself Charcoal kept near meats or other 
 food absorbs into itself the germs of decay, and aids in preserv- 
 ing what is placed upon or beside it. Evaporation aids like ice 
 in lowering the temperature. That stone jar for the bones, for 
 instance, is to be kept cool. Tie a bit of muslin over it, pin a 
 towel or thick cloth around it, and keep that wet — the evapora- 
 tion will reduce the temperature: so by a wet cloth you can 
 keep your butter jar in order, or a stone pot wherein you arc 
 keeping a piece of cooked meat." 
 
 "All this is very nice to know," said Helen, "and is also* 
 reasonable; but to put it in practice seems penurious, a fretting 
 about trifles, a saving rather beneath people." 
 
 "That is because we do not look at it in a right light," said 
 
g2 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Mrs. Winton. "Christ, the Lord of all, who could command 
 food for thousands at a word, did not think it beneath him to 
 set his apostles to gathering up scraps of fish and bread, which 
 he had produced at so little apparent effort and cost. He 
 showed his power in providing, his liberality in bestowing, his 
 tarefulness in saving. ' ' Did he not this altogether for our sakes ? ' 
 — to give us a lesson of that economy without which the human 
 race cannot be maintained? All that is — the bread on youi 
 table, the meat, the egg, whatever we use — is the ultimate pro- 
 duct of Christ's creating skill, and the result to us of his benev- 
 olence. What divine chemistry in the fruit matured for our 
 tables! Economy is a high Christian duty, that nothing be 
 lost." 
 
 Housekeepers in the country are able to avoid waste in keep- 
 ing things far better than city housekeepers can do. There is 
 usually the spring-house with its running water ; and with the 
 freer air and the shade trees, closets and store-rooms can be kept 
 cool and sweet. I was talking with Cousin Ann about this: 
 she says that many housekeepers do not realize the need of 
 keeping the butter and milk in a place where there is no smell 
 of cooked meats, or of vegetables or pickles. Some people will 
 set a plate of pickles down by a pan of milk, or a dish of ham 
 or mashed turnip warm from the table close by their fresh butter, 
 and then wonder why their milk and butter taint so fast ! Other 
 people do not give air enough to places where they are keeping 
 things, and they let in too much light, and are not careful to 
 keep out flies. Cousin Ann has mosquito-netting nailed over 
 the lower halves of her pantry and store-room windows, and 
 she had the boys make latticed shutters for the windows, which 
 shutters she keeps bowed all day : thus she has no flies in these 
 places, and plenty of air. She now has wire covers to put over 
 meat and vegetables set by from the table ; but before she could 
 afford these covers she put such things in deep basins of cheap 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 83 
 
 red earthenware, and carefully tied pieces of netting over the 
 tops. She remarked to me the other day that some people did 
 themselves more damage with their ice-chests than going with- 
 out ice would do them, for they crowded all manner of things 
 into them, and were not careful to cleanse them thoroughly of 
 all bits of food that might be scattered from the dishes. For 
 people who cannot buy a refrigerator a nice ice-box can be thus 
 made : take a common store-box as large as you Want your ice- 
 chest; get another box about two inches larger each way; 
 sprinkle a layer of sawdust in the larger box ; bore three sma^ 
 auger-holes in the bottom of the smaller box, and set it in the 
 other, upon the sawdust ; pack the space between the boxes with 
 sawdust to within two inches of the top; drive small strips of 
 board over the top of the sawdust to prevent its scattering out; 
 bore in this outer box three small auger-holes low down, one in 
 the side, and one in each end. Take a lid that will fit the inner 
 box: nail stout cloth on it rather loosely, so that it can be filled 
 in with sawdust before the last end is tacked down ; put a 
 handle, made of a strap of leather, in the centre ; now if your 
 cellar has rats in it, set into the ground four bits of old stove- 
 pipe as pegs for the chest to rest upon, and if this is kept 
 properly cleaned you have a good ice-chest, which will 
 preserve ice far longer than many patent and expensive , 
 refrigerators. 
 
 I think if any one could give instructions in domestic 
 economy it would be Cousin Ann: not a thing is wasted at 
 her house ; not a board or bit of wood as big as your hand 
 left to rot — all put under shelter for fuel ; every scrap of 
 waste grease goes for making hard and soft soap; a leach ol' 
 wood ashes is always in use ; old bones do not lie around, un- 
 sightly litter, but there is a "bone heap," which is burned every 
 year; no weeds overgrow the vegetable garden: Cousin Ann 
 starts, in house-boxes, lettuce, radishes, onions and cucumbers; 
 
84 IHE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 she has the earliest vegetables that are raised around here, and 
 she says the truest economy in saving health, escaping bills for 
 medicine, and even in saving in provisions, is attained by having 
 plenty of fresh early vegetables on the table three times a day. 
 Cousin Ann is well-to-do, but she says " prosperity came by 
 economy, and she will not deride the bridge which carried her 
 safely over perilous places:" she says economize in little things, 
 and great economies will take care of themselves. Cousin Ann 
 always has in each room where there is a fire a box of paper- 
 lighters to save matches; her bread-board and pan have no 
 dough left clinging to them ; there is no scattering around her 
 flour-barrel, and all the scrapings of pots and plates go to the 
 chicks. 
 
 " These are such trifles. Cousin Ann." 
 
 "Well, your life is made up of seconds," replies Cousin Ann 
 in a parable. 
 
 " Very valuable trifles, after all ; have you no more of the 
 kind, Cousin Ann?" 
 
 " Perhaps I have not mentioned to you two bottles in my china- 
 closet which I value very highly. One is a large-necked bottle 
 of plaster of Paris. It costs me ten cents to fill it, and ten dol- 
 lars would be a very small estimate of what that amount saves 
 me. If the walls, especially the hard-finished ones, get scratched 
 or nicked in ugly little holes, I mix a little plaster of Paris with 
 water and cover the injury: all is then as good as new; for 
 doing this work I keep by the bottle a thin, handless knife -blade. 
 If any crockery is broken, I mix some of this plaster with a 
 little strong glue or with some white of egg, fasten the broken 
 parts together, hold or tie them in place for a few minutes, then 
 they are dry and I scrape off the plaster which has exuded from 
 the crack, and the dish is firmly mended. China, glass and 
 earthenware can be used in this way. If the dishes do not look 
 well enough to come to the table^ they will yet do to set away 
 
ECONOMY IN THE HOME. 85 
 
 things in the store-closet, or for keeping jelly, marmalade, oi 
 preserves. For mending such things I keep an especial glue- 
 brush; one must work quickly as the plaster dries so quickly; 
 the knife and brush used in it are fit for nothing else; and I 
 mix the plaster as I need it in a clam-shell, always keeping two 
 or three clam or muscle-shells besides the bottle: the bottle 
 must be kept corked. Speaking of clam and muscle-shells: 
 they are ten times as good as knives or spoons to scrape out 
 pans or pots : some folks spoil table-ware, and waste time, when 
 using a shell would be greatly better in all regards. When my 
 lamp-tops come loose I don't send them to town : I mend them 
 with plaster of Paris. The other bottle I mentioned is for 
 Ammonia: I get that at twenty-five cents a quart at a wholesale 
 house in the city. Nothing is like it for cleaning looking-glasses, 
 windows, silver or paint,- for washing lace or embroidery, for 
 cleaning black silk or cloth, for washing your best glass, for 
 sprinkling in soap-suds over your house-plants once a week. 
 Keep the bottle corked ; mix a little ammonia in warm water as 
 you need to use it, making the water stronger of ammonia for 
 glass and silver, weaker for flowers or paint or clothes. We 
 always clean our combs and brushes well with it about once a 
 month : it keeps them white and stiff; and mixing a little am- 
 monia with a teaspoonful of bay-rum and half a pint of warm 
 water we use it for cleaning our heads : it frees the head from 
 dandruff, and the hair from dust, and helps the growth. I don't 
 know of anything nicer in a bath, when one is very warm, has 
 been perspiring freely, or engaged in hard, dirty work ; add a 
 little ammonia to the bath-water, and you feel clean, fresh, and 
 rested; indeed the ammonia pays for itself a hundred times 
 over. In house-cleaning times it saves soap, brushes and paint, 
 and time in washing wood-work or windows ; it is a grand thing 
 for carpets: if they look faded aijd soiled, sweep them well; 
 then after the dust has settled wipe them with a dry flannel ; 
 
gQ THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 then put some ammonia, say a dessertspoonful, in two quarts of 
 warm water: wring out a clean flannel cloth in it and wipe the 
 carpet all over, wringing the cloth out in the ammonia water 
 several times. I believe it destroys moths, worms, and carpet- 
 bugs, and sets the color, besides taking off" all grease and stains. 
 So, Sophronia, / wouldn't keep house without my plaster bottle 
 and my ammonia bottle." 
 
 " Well, Cousin Ann," I replied, " I shall give my nieces each 
 two of these famous bottles, with their virtues and uses inscribed 
 on the outside." 
 
 "Do," said Cousin Ann: "it will be better to them in the 
 long run than a silk dress." 
 
 "Yes," I replied, "the dress would soon be spoiled, and 
 might encourage extravagance or love of display, but this gift 
 will help them to attain that virtue of life-long benefit, Economy 
 in the Home." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CHILDREN IN THE FAMILY. 
 
 WHAT AUNT 30PHR0NIA HAS TO SAY OF THEIR RIGHTS AND 
 
 LIABILITIES. 
 \ 
 
 HAVE always had the deepest interest in children, and 
 a Strong affection for them. They are the very centre 
 of the Home ; in fact, a Home without children hardly 
 seems to me a Home at all ; and yet, these, who are 
 designed to be the Home's choicest blessing, often become its 
 heaviest sorrow. I think people have more varieties in their 
 fashions of dealing with or bringing up children, than in any- 
 thing else; and I suppose there should be differences in 
 methods, inasmuch as there are so great natural differences in 
 children. But, after all, there seem to be certain fundamental 
 rules, which apply to the right training of all children : these 
 rules I find entirely ignored by very many parents. 
 
 Children, as human beings, must come into the world with 
 certain inalienable rights. A great many parents seem to 
 regard their children as mere chattels, without any rights what- 
 ever. Children, as sharing our fallen nature, need certain 
 restraints. Many parents seem to forget this, and let them 
 come up in entire ignorance or defiance of that excellent thing 
 —law. Children are the noblest of our possessions. They are 
 the only immortal part of our possessions. They deserve, there- 
 fore, in virtue of their intrinsic value,- our most vigilant care and 
 guidance. But many parents will bestow more training on a 
 
 young colt or heifer than on their child ; more care on a sewing 
 
 (87) 
 
88 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 machine than on son or daughter ; more time on a piano than 
 on their own offspring ; more affection on some pet cat, bird or 
 poodle than they exhibit for a child. They will try harder to 
 understand the eccentricities of a cooking-stove, than to under- 
 stand the human mind, which God has committed to their 
 keeping. My brethren, these things ought not so to be. 
 Thoughts on the rights, needs and duties of children in the 
 home, have pressed upon me more forcibly than ever since 
 there are children in Helen's and Miriam's homes. 
 
 I find that people's grandest mistakes and most unutterable 
 failures are connected with the training of their children. Thus 
 it has been in all time, and even in the families of holy people. 
 Isaac seems to have had his hands more than full with son 
 Esau ; and Jacob found plenty of trouble among his thirteen. 
 David's sons turned out sadly, some of them. It is no wonder 
 that Ishmael went out of the ways of Abraham so quickly, when 
 Abraham turned him adrift so early ; and while Lot's children 
 seem to have been a desperate set, Mrs. Lot was most likely to 
 blame for that, especially with Lot's going to live in a wicked 
 place like Sodom just for gain, which no father of a family 
 should have done. It appears to me that when there is failure, 
 Ive can usually go back and put our finger on some error and 
 say: " Here is where the wrong began." But then it is always 
 easier to see the beginning from the end, than the end from the ' 
 beginning. We know well enough roads that we have travelled 
 over ! Then when the evil is done, it is often too late to mend 
 it How circumspectly then we should go over unknown 
 ground, where a false step may be fatal ! 
 
 I remember Mrs. Winton and I went to see Helen when little 
 Tom was a fortnight old. Helen seemed to have some sense of 
 her responsibility, and she said : " What a charge I shall have 
 when it is time to begin to train and educate this child ! " 
 
 Mrs. Winton looked up : " Helen, you should have begun to 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMIL Y. gg 
 
 train and to educate a fortnight ago. Education should begin 
 with the first hour of a babe's Hfe, and it should from that hour 
 have a fixed end." 
 
 " I don't understand you," said Helen. 
 
 " The end of our education should be to develop the child in 
 every direction, into the very best and highest which it is 
 capable of attaining. We must always remember that the child 
 wilUlive forever in another world than this ; that in this world it 
 will be a member of a social system, and will have duties to its 
 race. It is also an individual, with its private and particular 
 nature and emotions, which are to be regarded in its up-bringing. 
 So, Helen, begin at once to train your babe : as an individual, 
 ■ with regard to its rights ; and as a member of society, with 
 regard to its duties." 
 
 " But, Mrs. Winton, what can one teach so young a child ? " 
 
 " Patience is the child's earliest lesson. It can be taught to 
 wait. Don't give it what it is crying for while it cries. Calm it 
 tenderly first, and then promptly give the food or the toy ; as it 
 grows older, whatever it is proper for it to have : it soon asso- 
 ciates receiving with quiet and pleasant asking. So you can 
 teach the child, as a member of society, to cry softly, and not 
 disturb the house with wild shrieks. You can calm and soothe 
 a very young child to mild crying, and get it habituated not to 
 roar and bellow." • 
 
 " I always noticed, Mrs. Winton," I said, " that your children 
 cried quietly, and did not fill the neighborhood with shrieks." 
 
 " I always pitied them when they were hurt, not in the ratio 
 of the noise they made, as many do, but in the ratio of their 
 gentleness about their trouble. Children love sympathy, to be 
 petted and pitied — if shrieking like Comanches is the price of 
 notice, of course they will shriek. I used to say ' softly, softly, 
 and then I shall feel so sorry for you. Ah ! what a good child 
 to be so patient ! ' They learned a pride in patience and endur- 
 
90 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ance. I have seen mothers feeding a child with two spoons, 
 nurse and mother feeding together, to keep the child from 
 screaming as soon as its mouth was empty. The thing is a fact, 
 and ruined the child's temper and digestion. A child should be 
 taught to wait patiently while its food is preparing, and while 
 itself is being made ready to eat it. Naturally, the little one is 
 the centre of its own universe, and believes the world was made 
 when it was, and for it. We must early teach the child, in 
 patience, gentleness and generosity, to know that it has 
 compeers whose rights are as settled as its own." 
 
 Mrs. Burr also called upon Helen with me while Tom was a 
 young infant. Helen said to her : 
 
 " Mrs. Burr, your family is considered a model : give me some . 
 of your rules for training little children." 
 
 " I esteem quiet vety highly," said Mrs. Burr, "both in behalf 
 of the child's health and its good manners. A little child is a 
 delicate organization, and its nerves are delicately strung; but 
 nurses frequently jounce, toss and tumble it, tickle it, jump and 
 scream at it, and take its nervous contortions or forced laughter 
 for expressions of pleasure. Do we see cats or birds serving 
 their young in this way? No, they supply their needs, keep 
 them warm and quiet, and let them develop their faculties natur- 
 ally. Grown people could not endure the torments through 
 which they put a young child, calling it 'amusing it' I have 
 known children given spasms, or fixed in nervous diseases, by 
 this folly. Nurses are especially given to this error. They are 
 often of a hoydenish, noisy class, and they use these manners to 
 a child. If physically the child escapes harm, its manners are 
 injured; it is rampant, boorish, disturbing every one with its 
 uproar, which is called liveliness and healthfulness by the 
 parent, yet is 'really a bad habit. Children disturb their elders 
 more by their noise than in any other one way, yet parents delib- 
 erately train up their children in a noisiness, which they cannot 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMIL Y. gj 
 
 endure, and as a next step drive them out into the street in 
 order to be rid of their uproar." 
 
 " But, Mrs. Burr, I have supposed that noise was natural to 
 children, and that only feeble children were veiy still." 
 
 " The noise of children," said Mrs. Burr, " has its proper 
 limitations of time, place and kind. Ugly noises they should 
 be trained to eschew ; the happy noise of their plays, shouts 
 and laughter are natural and healthful, but even they must not 
 be brought among the aged, the sick, nervous, or where a young 
 child is sleeping. Children can be taught to keep their bolster^ 
 ousness for their own play-room, the field or the garden ; to speak 
 in gentle tones, to choose quiet plays when they play around 
 their elders. It is easy, Helen, to begin right in these matters, 
 and it insures a happy home ; it is hard to begin later, when two 
 or three children have become fixed in unpleasant ways ; it is 
 dangerous to family peace and juvenile manners not to begin at 
 all. And let me say a word on the subject of nurses. Our chil- 
 dren are often permanently injured mentally or physically by 
 their nurse. The nurse may have a loving disposition, and may 
 grow to have a fondness for her charge, but it is idle to expect 
 from her a warm affection for every child whom she is hired to 
 attend. Your safeguard then is in good principles; but how 
 many of those who aspire to the very responsible office of child's 
 maid, are trained in good principles ? It frequently happens that 
 the child of well-to-do parents, able to hire a nurse, gets poorer 
 care, and has less chance of its life, than the child of poor 
 parents. The fearful summer mortality among poor children can 
 be accounted for in close, hot rooms, impure air, dirty clothes, 
 bad food, and often general neglect. The richer child has good 
 food, air, room, clothes, cleanliness, but he has a nurse-maid, 
 whose hidden carelessness often forfeits the life of her charge. 
 How often have I seen a delicate babe sent out by its mother 
 for an airing in its carriage! The nurse, chatting with hef 
 
92 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 friends, or hastening to overtake a companion, dashes the httle 
 buggy over curbs and crossings. I have even seen a child flung 
 bodily out of its carriage by such a jolt. In our parks I have 
 seen maids rushing the little buggies down slopes, ovei drains, 
 around curves, in a manner to endanger the spines and brains of 
 infants. Or the nurse sits down on a door or a church step fot 
 a long talk : the babe, exposed to heat and flies, often the sun 
 blazing on its undefended face, begins to wail. Hundreds of 
 times have I seen the nurse shake or slap it for its cries. After 
 an hour or two of such a ' ride for health,' the child goes home 
 fevered, weak — no appetite. Dozens of cases of illness or of 
 deaths, which parents and doctors ascribe to "summer heats,' or 
 the 'diseases incident to summer,' are the result of exposures and 
 excitements which grown people could not endure. The lovely 
 babe of a friend of mine died after agonizing illness — the victim 
 of a nurse who was very fond of it. After a hot day she sat with 
 the child on a porch during a thunderstorm, giving the babe no 
 protection for its bare neck and arms, until it was chilled through. 
 Many nurses privately administer opiates to their charges. 
 Almost all nurses that I ever knew do not hesitate to frighten 
 children by noises or tales ; or, to keep them from being ven- 
 tui-esome, teach them fears of almost every place and thing. 
 The mother, who wants a brave son, begins by handing him over 
 to a nurse, who, for the first three years of his life, labors to 
 make him a coward." 
 
 "You alarm me, Mrs. Burr," said Helen; "but what is to be 
 done? — ought not nurses to be hired?" 
 
 "T think," said our friend, "that mothers often injure them- 
 selves and their babes by endeavoring to assume the whole care 
 of the child. The mother begins the charge in a weak state of 
 health ; she is burdened with family cares, possibly with sick- 
 ness in the house, with broken rest at nights; she is feeble and 
 uervous, and this nervousness reacts upon the child, while often 
 
CHILDREN IN. 7 HE FAMILY. 93 
 
 a mother's health is shattered and she dies prematurely, leaving 
 her babes to strangers, when by sharing the care of them her 
 life might have been prolonged. So, and in an even greater 
 degree, the figures and health and tempers of unfortunate little 
 eldest daughters are sacrificed to being.made reliable child's maids 
 for their juniors. There is hardly a being on earth whom I pity 
 more than such a little eldest girl, prematurely old and eare 
 worn, never knowing what a jolly childhood is, always with the 
 children on her mind or in her arms. Better by far to dress 
 this little girl in plain calico, and send her to church in a white 
 sun-bonnet, while the money for fine dress pays a maid to carry 
 and attend the little ones, than to have the poor creature in her 
 own childhood burdened with a mother's cares, and compelled 
 by her own grievances and privations to consider children an 
 unmitigated nuisance. A lovely lady once said to me, ' I feel 
 often horrified at the little love I have for my brothers and sis- 
 ters — they are less to me than strangers ; but it was my mother's 
 error. Those children were the curse of my early life. I had 
 no rights and no privileges, no toys which the little ones were 
 not allowed to destroy. I could not have company, because " I 
 had enough brothers and sisters," or "company disturbed the 
 baby." I could not visit, because the children missed me, or 
 should have been asked to go with me. If I went in the street 
 I dragged a carriage or led or lugged a child. I spent the even- 
 ings until my own bed-time shivering in a cold room, waiting 
 for some child who chose to be afraid to go to sleep. I never 
 went anywhere with my mother, because when she was out I 
 must be at home. I saved the lives of the little things a few 
 times by my courage and presence of mind, and I almost 
 regretted it, because the more reliable I was the more I was 
 laden with a woman's duties. I remember when once or twice 
 death came to our crowded circle, my first irresistible thought 
 was — now I would get a little more time to rest and read. Even 
 
94 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 my school and lessons were sacrificed to these children. All 
 this was pecuniarily unnecessary, but my parents felt that nurses 
 were unreliable, and I, alas, was trusty! I often wished I had 
 been born without a conscience, so that my parents would 
 have been afraid to trust me, but I was so constituted that I could 
 sacrifice life rather than duty. The memory of my youth is a 
 nightmare. A pestilence broke up our family within a week. 
 I sorrowed for my dpad, but I was free from slavery. Now my 
 remaining brothers and sisters are to me chiefly associated with 
 the long weariness, sadness, sacrifice, and rebuffs of my early 
 life. When I was twenty-four my own first child was laid in my 
 arms, and there surged over me that feeling of burden and dis- 
 tress, that horror of great darkness, that closed my childhood in ; 
 but I soon found that a woman's joyous love, her knowledge, 
 her skill, her strength for responsibility, her command of the 
 situation, for her own babe, is a very different thing from the 
 experience of a child so recklessly overburdened as I was.' " 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Burr," cried Helen, "if I ever have a little 
 daughter, she shall have the advantage of that little story. But 
 tell me what to do. I cannot, it seems, have a nurse, nor do 
 without one: where is the middle course here?" 
 
 " If you can afford, by any sacrifices of luxuries or fineries 
 even, to keep a nurse-maid, Helen, do so. But first be sure 
 about the girl you are getting: know something of her family, 
 her history ; see to it that she is healthful, modest, cleanly, kind. 
 You cannot be too scrupulously particular about these things. 
 Then consider that you get her, not to take your place to the 
 'babe, but to relieve you in lesser cares, so that you can with 
 •better strength fulfil the rest. A tnother should always bathe, 
 ^dress, undres.i, and feed her own child : no one else will 
 exercise such tender, wise care as she in these immensely 
 important particulars. If your child, unhappily, must be fed 
 ' from its birth, see yourself to the preparing of its food, and the 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMIL Y. 95 
 
 washing, keeping and cleansing of the vessels in which that food 
 is prepared and administered. If the nurse puts the child to 
 sleep in the day time, let her do it in a room where you are 
 sitting ; but I should say, always put your own child to sleep, 
 and let the nurse take any work that might at that time occupy 
 you. At night put the child to bed yourself: then you will be 
 sure that it is not frightened nor made uncomfortable. If pos- 
 sible, accustom the child to going to sleep itself when laid on 
 the bed, and teach it to sleep without a light : a light burns up 
 the oxygen of the room, depriving the child of good air, and its 
 constant use makes the child timid in the dark. However, some 
 children cannot be taught these things : nervous fear is con- 
 stitutional. Remember, then, what Horace says: 'You can- 
 not drive out nature with a fork.' Keep away the causes of 
 nervous fear, and by degrees the child will outgrow it. That 
 splendid child, Grace Winton, was from her birth constitu- 
 tionally fearful of lightning ; frantic terror took possession of her 
 at the slightest flash. No matter where she was, nor how 
 occupied, if an electric storm appeared, Mrs. Winton repaired to 
 Grace, and she never allowed her to go far from her, or for a 
 long time. Grace was ashamed of her uncontrollable fear; 
 friends told Mrs. Winton that she spoiled the child in this point. 
 She replied : ' No ; I shall solace her unreasoning age, and trust to 
 developed reason to control her.' She explained early to Grace 
 the reason, uses and theories of storms ; she showed utter fear- 
 lessness herself; and from the time she was eight, Grace lost her 
 terrors, and is now as brave as her mother in all particulars. 
 But to return to the nurse. She can hold, carry, exercise with 
 the child, but do not let her go ofiT alone on long perambulations 
 with it. If she goes beyond your sidewalk or garden go with 
 her; if you cannot go, keep her under your eye and out of 
 temptation. The only time I ever broke that rule, my youngest 
 nearly died from getting the whooping cough in the midst of 
 
96 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 bis teething; the nurse was a trusty girl, too; she merely called 
 on her sister, not knowing the cough was in her family ; but if I 
 had been with her she would have made no calls. Nurses, in 
 their calls, expose children to foul air, vermin or diseases ; and 
 keep them warmly wrapped for hours in close rooms, and then 
 go out in the cold with them. Often, in low parts of the city, 
 have I seen babes crying in their buggies at doors where nurse- 
 maids were inside gossiping, and once I knew of a child stolen 
 under such conditions." 
 
 " But suppose, Mrs. Burr, I am too sick to feed or bathe the 
 child, or to go out with it, or put it to bed? " 
 
 " Get a friend to go out with it, with the nurse, or keep it at 
 home ; and have the nurse feed, bathe and put it to bed where 
 you are present to overlook the matter." 
 
 " But in some families nurses take the whole care of children, 
 and often in England they bring up the children entirely." 
 
 " God sometimes mercifully confers on children, thus left by 
 their mothers, a nurse more faithful than the mother. But I 
 don't think we should indulge neglect, expecting Him to make 
 up for our delinquencies. One may have a mature, judicious 
 nurse many years, and trust her more and more as she shows 
 herself reliable : yet, ought a mother "to desire to delegate those 
 duties and services which her little child has a right to claim 
 from her? In England long terms of service are more common 
 than here. Here a nurse is changed once a year, or half a 
 dozen times a year ; or as soon as her little' charge can toddle 
 she is dismissed. She loses the affection of habit, and does not 
 expect to become identified with the family interests. In 
 England a nurse spends often her whole life in one family, 
 nursing two generations ; the family feel that one who was 
 devoted to their helpless infancy has more than a pounds-and- 
 pence claim on them. In this respect the feeling of the colored 
 nurses in the South, formerly, was like that of the English rather 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMIL Y. 97 
 
 than the ordinary American nurse, and resulted in the safety of 
 the nurseling." 
 
 I trust Helen profited by this talk of Mrs. Burr; but being 
 naturally indolent, she left a good deal too much responsibility 
 to her nurse-girl. However, the first one was a good nurse, for 
 I engaged her myself; unfortunately she soon left. 
 
 Mrs. Burr's remarks about educating children into noisiness 
 and timidity struck me, and doubtless caused me more partic- 
 ularly to notice several little street incidents. I walked out one 
 day and saw our minister's wife at her garden gate talking to 
 Cousin Ann's son Fred, who was in his wagon. She had in her 
 arms her babe, a year old. The farmer's horse put his head 
 over the gate : the child shrank back to his mother's neck. 
 
 " Pretty horse ! " said his mother, in her musical voice ; and 
 taking the child's hand in her own she stroked the animal's 
 face. " See his ears : see his nice eyes." Grown suddenly bold 
 the child poked his finger at the horse's great dark eye, but the 
 watchful mother seized his hand : " Softly ! be kind to the horse. 
 Poor horse. No, no ; don't touch his eye." 
 
 The child's next move was to tap the beast's nose as hard as 
 he could. ' 
 
 "Softly! gently; so, so; you must not whip the good horse; 
 pat him so, softly." 
 
 The child learned now that there was to be neither fear nor 
 abuse, and, crooning in a tender tone, he stroked the animal's 
 face with his white dimpled hand. A square farther on I saw a 
 young woman on the edge of the sidewalk buying vegetables 
 from a cart. She had a child in her arms, and as the cart-horse 
 turned his head to look, the little one reached out laughing. 
 The horse's head was two or three feet from the child, but the 
 mother howled : " O now ! owh ! he'll bite you ! " in a voice to be 
 heard a block off. The child burst into a shriek of terror, and 
 was carried in-doors, having learned that a very common animal 
 
98 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 was an object of mad fear. Near my own home I saw a young 
 woman with z. two-years-old boy in her arms, as she stood talk- 
 ing to some friends who were in a buggy. The child had a 
 Ivillow switch with which he was striking about. The mother, 
 k boisterous creature, shouted: "Whoa! get up! Hit the horsey! 
 Hit him hard! That's right; crack him good! whoa!" The 
 youngster bellowed as loudly as his progenitress, and hit right 
 and left as well as he was able. He was getting his lesson : a 
 lesson of noise, of cruelty to a domestic animal, of needless 
 words, uproar and excited actions — he was in a fair way to 
 become hard-hearted, and very uncomfortable to live with. 
 
 When Miriam's little Dora was a few months old, Miriam 
 invited Mrs. Burr and myself to tea. Very naturally, our talk 
 turned on the training of children, and Mrs. Burr made some 
 good remarks on the subject. She said: " Miriam, don't expect 
 your child to be perfect. That is our first demand on our chil- 
 dren : we expect them to be angelic beyond others, yet, when 
 we come to look at ourselves, we shall see how very insufficient 
 A foundation we have for such an expectation. Don't feel that all 
 faults are equally heinous. Childhood has errors which we may 
 reprove or correct very gently, or even ignore altogether, rather 
 than to be always condemning, trusting that the whole moral 
 training of the child will correct some faults of which individual 
 notice has not been taken. Childhood has its crimes which can- 
 not be permitted without destroying the child's character. I 
 should say the three primary crimes are disobedience , falsehood, 
 and selfishness. Of the first, nothing so insures the happiness 
 of the child, and the comfort of the Home, as obedience; obedi- 
 ence includes respect for all who are in authority; the respecting 
 delegated as well as parental authority; true obedience has none 
 of the blatant, 'I shan't mind you; you ain't my mother,' style, 
 which some parents even think very amusing. If we begm early 
 snough with a child, it will acquire the habit of obedience before 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMIL Y. 99 
 
 It knows that it is learning anything, and it will grow into 
 obedient dispositions, as the plant grows as you have trained it. 
 Some parents command and re-command, and then permit the 
 child to disregard the order; others are angry and upbraid or 
 punish, without stopping to consider whether the child has 
 understood the order. I have seen idiots who will tell a 
 child a year old to put down or pick up something, and when 
 the order is not obeyed, they begin to shake and slap, never' 
 questioning whether the new denizen of this world apprehends 
 their instructions, or appreciates what it is to do. The child 
 becomes terrified and nervous; that is set down as obstinacy, 
 and ' a will that must be broken.' What did the Lord bestow 
 the Divine Power of the will for, if not to be a stronghold to the 
 human being .? It must be guided in the way of righteousness. 
 I have noticed Mrs. Winton : she never allows her word to be 
 disregarded, and never has a battle. I have seen her tell a 
 young child to put down something, which the child, looking at 
 her, still clutched. There was no second order; she quietly 
 unloosed the little fingers and the thing was put down. She 
 said if the child did not understand the phrase "put it down,' 
 the act expounded it ; if it did, and concluded to hold on, the 
 loosing of its grasp secured the accomplishment of the parental 
 demand, and taught it that instant action must follow an order. 
 So when she bid a little one pick up something, as a bit of bread 
 which it had thrown down, once told, if obedience did not follow, 
 she quietly clasped the little fingers over the object and secured 
 the performance of the act; her children have grown into an 
 assurance that the mother's order must be followed by execu- 
 tion, while no bitter antagonisms have been awakened. One 
 reason of her strength in government, is that she never demands 
 or asserts a thing concerning which she has not herself full 
 assurance, and then she never changes : her words are like the 
 laws of the Medes and Persians ; and while law is thus inflexible, 
 
100 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 her children have their acknowledged rights, which are to them 
 as impregnable as an Englishman's home. I notice, too, that 
 while she does not stop to argue things with her children, she 
 is always ready to explain, sometimes before, sometimes after, 
 the performance of an order: thus her children's acts are estab- 
 lished on reason, and sound judgment is developed in them, 
 while they are not forever saying, ' Why ? ' Obedience is the 
 corner-stone in Home training. The child should not grow up 
 feeling that obedience is due only to one parent: that authority 
 resides only in one — that father must be minded, while mother 
 can be twisted as they choose; that mother rules them, while 
 father is a figure-head, or an animated purse. They must not 
 find one parent concealing their acts from the other, or one 
 parent permitting what the other prohibits." 
 
 I said : " While in our civil laws one kind of penalty meets 
 one offence and another another, in domestic training there is 
 too often only one kind of punishment for all misdoings : crimes 
 or mere errors meet the same reward ; a lie or an accident 
 receives equal reprobation. This is the sure way to destroy 
 moral sense." 
 
 "Accidents should never receive punishment," said Mrs. Burr, 
 " but a child should be always required, as far as possible, to repair 
 them : thus carelessness is corrected. True, the child's bungling 
 repairing may all need to be done over again by the parent, but 
 in giving its time and its labor, the child has learned carefulness. 
 A nephew of mine was shamefully wasteful of his food ; his 
 mother preached good manners, his father general human needs, 
 and depicted poor people hungering for his waste : he wasted 
 still. When he was twelve years old, my brother reformed him 
 thoroughly : he made him raise, one summer, a quarter of an 
 acre of corn, and the same amount of potatoes. Ben planted 
 and hoed, weeded and pursued potato-bugs ; he thought it fun 
 at first, work presently, purgatory soon after. His father had 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMIL Y. \{y\ 
 
 hired the half acre, paid for the seed and the ploughing ; poor 
 Ben learned what it costs to produce food He dug his potatoes, 
 cut and husked his corn, found a sale for both, repaid his father's 
 outlay, and pocketed a dollar and a half for his summer's work ; 
 but he pocketed a lesson worth thousands. He knew how to 
 raise his dinner out of the soil, and he knew what labor food 
 represents ; he is now the most scrupulously saving fellow I evei 
 saw, * 
 
 " The children of a friend of mine were remarkable for the 
 purity and propriety of their language. She procured this 
 niccness by an odd method. Children readily pick up vulgar or 
 bad words; whenever she heard such an one, she calmly looked, 
 into the little mouth whence it came : ' Dear, dear, what a dirty 
 mouth ! Such a word does not leave a clean mouth ! Come, let 
 us wash it.' The mouth was carefully washed with soap and 
 water, rinsed, wiped. ' Go, now, and be careful ; don't get your 
 mouth dirty any more.' No matter how busy she was, the great 
 business of keeping clean mouths was always heeded, and her 
 children learned a positive disgust for all low language and 
 a hearty respect for cleanness of speech. My cousin Ann's 
 mother had a custom akin to this. When her grandchil- 
 dren dropped an evil word, she rubbed a little aloes on their 
 tongue. A bad word was a bitter word to them, and they, 
 also, talked as they ought. The same disease requires different 
 remedies to suit the patient. I had my eldest at Cape May 
 when he was three, and from a family of boys at our hotel, he 
 learned to swear. Imagine my consternation ! He picked up 
 their speech as he did mine, knowing nothing of its meaning. 
 The more I reproved and punished, the more firmly the evil 
 language was fixed in his mind. I went home with him to 
 escape bad company. I wept over the affair to my mother. 
 She said to me : ' The child knows no more harm in those words 
 than in a nursery rhyme. All your measures are fixing them 
 
102 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 in his memory; at home he hears nothing of the kind. Ignore 
 his use of these words, and he will forget them in a fortnight' 
 I took her advice, and in a week the objectionable words had 
 faded from his memory." 
 
 Our minister's wife has remarkable success in training hei 
 children. I was talking with her one day on the subject, and 
 >ve happened to come upon the matter of truthfulness. She 
 said: 
 
 "Nothing is more beautiful than truth, and we must first 
 teach it to our children by our own example, by showing and 
 inculcating inflexible principles of honor. Many parents make 
 their children liars by a severity which first makes them 
 cowards, and by a doubting of their words, and by a readiness 
 to accept any stranger's word against the child's statement. 
 This is an error as great as that of being credulous, an easy 
 dupe, and falling a prey to any misstatement the child may 
 make. Parents should study the character of their children to 
 see whether they are honest or no, and what are the causes of 
 dishonesty. Very vivid imagination in young children causes 
 them to state things as they appear to them, which look like very 
 false statements to grown people. We must consider how 
 small the child is in comparison with his surroundings, h 5W 
 new the world is to him, and how little grounds he has for 
 forming a judgment, before we call his misstatements lying. 
 In early ages, knowing little of scientific fact, people attributed 
 to witchcru.ft and the supernatural what are now the easily ex- 
 plained operations of nature ; ignorance begot superstition; igno- 
 rance may make children appear false ; we should be careful to 
 instiuct them, and to let no error of statement pass, so that we 
 may obtain a noble clearness and truthfulness in them. A lying 
 child is a mean and a dangerous child; and a parent's most 
 vigilant and earnest efforts must be given to ensuring absolute 
 truthfulness." 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMILY. 103 
 
 Our minister preached a sermon to the young on Truthful 
 NESS. He does not often quote the old philosophers : he prefers 
 to instruct from the Scripture, as getting there the best that can 
 be giv^en; but I noted a quotation or two which he made from 
 Plato on Truth. " Is there anything more akin to wisdom than 
 truth ? Or can the same nature be a lover of truth and a lover 
 of falsehood ? The true lover of learning then must from his 
 earliest youth, as far as in him lies, desire all truth." " God is 
 perfectly simple and true, both in deed and wOid; he changes 
 not ; he deceives not, either by dream or by waking vision, by 
 sign or word." 
 
 I think Miriam's children should grow up to be blessings 
 to their parents and to society, for she and Mark both train as 
 they desire the child to develop, and to be when it is mature. 
 One evening I was there, and Mark brought home for the child 
 some little treat. Dora, seated on her mother's lap, proceeded 
 to help herself Mark said : 
 
 " There is nothing more detestable, more cruel, more ruinous 
 to society than selfishness. Don't begin now, Miriam, by 
 letting Dora think only of her own satisfaction ; teach her that 
 nothing is truly blessed until it has been shared." 
 
 " That," said Miriam, " is Mark's rule for Dora, and I think it 
 a very good one : always to offer to others a part of what she 
 has. She seems naturally inclined to be selfish, but we want to 
 teach her a habit of giving, and we always praise her when she 
 divides with others. We go through the form of sharing with 
 her on all occasions." 
 
 "Some parents," said Mark, "themselves divide the child's 
 possessions; but that is not teaching the child to give; it is 
 depriving it of the luxury of giving. Children should be taught 
 spontaneity in giving. I have seen parents take forcibly the 
 child's property and give it to others ; that is merely to incul- 
 cate the right of might, and to give a lesson in robbery : a rightly) 
 
i04 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 eonstituted child would resent and question such a proceeding. 
 If the child's giving to its mate must be final, so should the 
 parent's gift to the child be final ; and if it is to be given away, 
 the child should be the free-giver. Yet children should be 
 taught not to give, trade, or take without honoring its parental 
 guide by asking advice. The parent, as judge, can condemn 
 some ill-used possession as forfeit, or can adjudge the child to 
 make restitution in kind for damage done to its neighbor's 
 property; here the parent bases his decree on principles of 
 common equity, and here is a grand and not to be slighted 
 opportunity for teaching justice between man and man, human 
 property rights, and the majesty of law, as guardian over all its 
 subjects, and with eye fixed on the common good." 
 
 " Indeed, Mark," I said, " very few parents consider that boys 
 should do justice and deal honorably by each other: I have 
 Been over-reaching called ' smartness ' — destruction ' playfulness.' 
 A child loses his playfellow's toy and says he's sorry, but is not 
 taught to give up his own property to replace the loss. And 
 how frequently are children allowed to give and then take 
 back ! " 
 
 " There," replied Mark, " is the root of much dishonesty 
 among men : they began it when they were boys, their parents 
 ignoring it, or abetting it, or setting an example. Ingrain hon- 
 esty in a lad, arid you are sure of an honest man. Girls and 
 boys should be allowed independent property dealings with 
 each other; their parents remarking, and advising and care- 
 fully insisting on rigid honesty. Girls should not be taught 
 that in virtue of their sex they may change their minds, break 
 their promises, or deal fast and loose. Upright business prin- 
 ciples are as good for girls as for boys, and they should learn 
 them." 
 
 During these years my niece Hester has several times 
 returned home for short visits, and I have seen with satisfaction 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMILY. 105 
 
 Mrs. Winton's prophecies concerning her proving true. While 
 no less decided, she is less aggressive: she is just as fond of argu- 
 ment as ever, but proceeds with it by question, rather than con- 
 tradiction; she says this is the " Socratic method." Whatevei 
 method it is, I like it better than the one which she had formerly 
 in use, though I will admit that this Socratic method is rathei' 
 hard on her opponents in usually betraying them into contra- 
 dicting themselves ! Hester, having graduated, was still pur- 
 suing her favorite studies in New York, when she came to spend 
 a few weeks with me, her father being absent. He accompanied 
 an Exploring Expedition to South America. I don't appreciate 
 John Rocheford's studies and explorations, simply because they 
 are selfish. What is the use of heaping up knowledge if one 
 does not intend to make any use of it ? It seems to me very like 
 a miser heaping up money, for its own sake, and not for what it 
 will procure : it is merely a more refined kind of miserliness. 
 It seems to me that we should put our knowledge, as well as 
 our money, to use : keep it in circulation. I think when our 
 dear Lord condemned hiding talents in the earth, he meant more 
 than mere cash. That is a true scripture : " No man liveth to 
 himself, and no man dieth to himself." We ought, indeed, to 
 use every little thing we have or know in some way to benefit 
 the world; then in serving our fellows we serve our Lord. One 
 would not be quite useless in the world, if one even knew and 
 taught a better way of cooking a piece of meat. That is what I 
 say to John ; he heaps up knowledge, and knows no one will 
 gather it — it will go into the grave with him. 
 
 Well, Hester came to visit me, and I had, among other thingt,, 
 opportunity to see how Hester applied her common sense and 
 her education to the training of children. I have always said 
 that if there was one foolish thing above another in training 
 children, it was to allow them to stand and tease, tease forever 
 about a thing, say "no" half a dozen times, an<5 then give up, 
 
106 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 and say "yes" as a reward of merit for teasing. When a parent 
 acts in that way, how much respect is a child hkely to have 
 for the parent's judgment and truthfulness ? We should neither 
 grant nor deny so hastily that we have not well considered a 
 question. There is much which our children must be denied : 
 therefore, when we can consent to their wishes, let us do it 
 heartily and cheerfully. If we deny, let it be because we must, 
 and then not go back on our principles by finally agreeing to 
 what we think wrong. I remember once I was visiting Cousin 
 Ann at the farm, and I was in the garden with Ann's sister-in- 
 law, and this lady's little son Bob came up : 
 "Mother! can I go fishing?" 
 
 " Why, no, Bob ; what do you want to fish for? you never 
 catch anything, and you'll be sure and get cold." 
 
 "Why, I like to fish, and all the boys are going, and I never 
 get cold; say, can't I go fishing?" 
 
 "No, child, I -say; I'm sure you have not weeded the cab 
 bages, and you've got your composition to write." 
 
 " Hoh ! I wrote my composition last night: it's all done, and 
 I finished the cabbages an hour ago — can't I go fishing ? " 
 " Dear me. Bob, what a tease. you are ! no: it's too damp." 
 " Damp ! oh, dear: then it'll never be dry; it hasn't rained for 
 A week, and the dew's all gone, and it is such nice weather — • 
 can't I go fishing? — Dick's going!" 
 
 " Dick's going! Well, he'd stay home if his mother said so.'' 
 "But she lets him go— can't I go fishing, mother?" 
 "I never s^v^ your like to tease; well, do go along." 
 " But, mother, I want some dinner to take." 
 " Oh, you'll be home by dinner-time." 
 
 " No, indeed ; why it wouldn't be two hours : I want a iunch."'' 
 " Bless me, what a bother ! Well, go find yourself a lunch." 
 I went into the house just in time to hear Cousin Ann's 
 Dick begin: " Mother! can't I go fishing?" 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMIL Y. J 07 
 
 Cousin Ann looked carefully at Dick, as if considering his 
 health, wants, and various capabilities in the fishing line. Then 
 she looked out of doors, as if summing up the weather. Then 
 she took a look into the woodrshed, to see if Dick's morning 
 chopping and cleaning up had been done. Then she said, 
 cheerfully: "Yes, Dick, it is a splendid day for fishing. Go get 
 your old trowsers, and your big straw-hat, and I'll put you up 
 a dinner : that is first and best part of a fishing in your view, I 
 suppose." 
 
 Now I like that straightforward way of dealing with a child : 
 know what you mean, and stick to it. I found that was one 
 of Hester's cardinal points in child-training. While Hester 
 was with me, a cousin of hers was called out of town, and left 
 her little girl in Hester's care. The child was used to her -own 
 way, and a perfect tease. One day she asked to go to Mrs, 
 Black's. 
 
 " No : not to-day," said Hester. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; let me go ; I want to go ; why can't I go, say?" 
 
 " You were there yesterday." 
 
 " Never mind that : let me go ; do please let me go." 
 
 Hester laid down her book and asked, quietly : "Anna, how 
 many times do you mean to ask me to let you go? " 
 
 " Why, I don't know ; do let me go ; what did you ask that 
 for?" 
 
 " Because if you have made up your mind how many times 
 you will ask, you might as well begin and ask as fast as you 
 can, and I can say " no ' all at once, without wasting words." 
 
 Anna opened her eyes in astonishment. Then she cried, 
 angrily : " I'll ask you fifty times ! " 
 
 Hester coolly got out a piece of paper and a pencil, and 
 said : " Now begin ; ask, and make a mark, and when you have 
 fifty marks, you will be done asking and I will say ' no.' " 
 
 Anna caught the paper and began making marks, crying; 
 
,08 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Let me go ; let me go ; let me go." Finally she stopped : 
 " There ! that's fifty." 
 
 But Hester had kept private tally. "No, dear: it is but- 
 tAventy; go on." 
 
 Anna went on, but she wearied of asking, and wanted to go 
 off. Hester held her left hand firmly. "No; you must keep 
 your word. Ask on, until fifty times." Finally Anna had asked 
 fifty times. " No, my dear: not to-day," said Hester, smoothly, 
 and took up her book. Anna never again asked her twice for 
 anything. Anna had been used to going to bed when she chose. 
 Hester set eight o'clock for bed-time, and her law was like that 
 of the Medes and Persians. Then we had this scene. " Come, 
 Anna: it is bed-time." 
 
 " Let me sit up : I'm not sleepy." 
 
 Hester lit a lamp and took the child's hand. 
 
 " Oh, it's too early: I don't want to go to bed." 
 
 The two walked off up-stairs together. All the time the 
 undressing went on Anna protested : " I don't want to go to 
 bed." 
 
 " Now, Anna," said Hester, " it is time to say your prayers. 
 But we pray to God, and you should think only of Him and 
 what you will ask of Him as you kneel down. I cannot hear 
 your prayers while you fret in this way." 
 
 A little talk put Anna in a mood for her prayers; she may 
 have fancied that yielding thus far, Hester would yield in turn, 
 and allow her to sit up. However, the prayer over, Hester 
 put her into bed. " I don't want to go to bed ! " screamed 
 Anna. 
 
 "Anna," said Hester, " did I promise to take you to see Cousin 
 flelen to-morrow? Do you expect I will do so?" 
 
 "You said you would," cried Anna. 
 
 "And I shall certainly do as I said. But if I did not keep 
 \^^Y word to you about going to bed and such things as you 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMILY. 109 
 
 do not like, how could you trust my word when I promised 
 you what you do like ? " 
 
 " Maybe you will not take me if I am bad," said Anna. 
 
 " I shall take you whether or no, for I said that I would, and 
 I cannot break my word." 
 
 " No matter how bad I am ? If I scream and holla ? " 
 
 " I shall not break my word for any badness. But how well 
 would you enjoy going with me feeling that I was displeased 
 with you, and that you had been a bad girl? We are not 
 happy when we are ashamed : we are happy when we do right." 
 
 Anna made no reply, and Hester came down-stairs. 
 
 " I hope, Aunt Sophronia, that this child will not disturb you 
 by her manoeuvres." 
 
 " Not at all," I replied ; " I am interested in seeing how you 
 get along with her." 
 
 " It's my view, Miss Hester," said Martha, who came in, " that 
 you have the patience of Job." 
 
 "It is not a question of patience," said Hester; "common- 
 sense tells me, that if we want to govern children, we must first 
 govern ourselves. As to yielding to her fretting, it is impos- 
 sible. Decision is a matter of the first importance in training 
 children. A ' yes ' should be hearty and unconditional, except 
 on those understood conditions of life, health and weather, which 
 are not in human keeping. Our promise should be a rock on 
 which the child could find unshaken foundation for building up 
 its plans. Our 'no' should be a wall of brass, which the child 
 shall give up all hope or endeavor of shaking. Of two evils I 
 would maintain a foolish ' yes ' and a selfish ' no ' rather than 
 shake a child's faith in the fixity of my promises. But one, by 
 taking the trouble to consider, can prevent selfishness and folly 
 in promises ; and the well-being of these immortal natures is 
 surely worth our most earnest consideration." 
 
 In fact, Hester has some very sound ideas about training 
 8 
 
110 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 children, and I said as much to her, and wondered at it when 
 she had had no experience, even with younger brothers and 
 sisters, as many girls have. She said it was merely the applica- 
 tion of common-sense, and that she believed the reason people 
 trained children so poorly was, that they did not apply their 
 common-sense and foresight to the training of their families as 
 they did to other things. 
 
 Hester's ideas of training take hold on looks and manners as 
 well as on morals. We went one day to see Mary Smalley, 
 who married a thriving young fellow named Watkins, and lives 
 on a farm a mile from the village. Mary has a little girl two 
 years old : a nice child, which she is proud of and worries over. 
 The child has straight light hair, pretty enough as nature made 
 it ; but Mary's pride leads her to crimp it, by braiding it tightly 
 over night, or doing it up over a hot hair-pin. Hester took 
 exception to this. She said : 
 
 " Mary, do you suppose little Nettie cares how she looks ? Is 
 ';he happier for being crimped?" 
 
 " No," said Mary ; " but / like to see it." 
 
 " Now is not that a little selfish, Mary ? Suppose Nettie lives 
 to be fifty years old. For the first dozen years of her life she 
 cares nothing for her looks ; if you keep her hair smooth and cut 
 short in those years, you secure her a fine growth of silky locks, 
 •heavy and healthy. From twelve to twenty-five let us say that 
 she has a little vanity in dressing-up and looking pretty. You 
 'have secured, in this nice hair, one of the most natural and 
 admirable ornaments of a young maiden. After twenty-five, 
 while she is less vain, let us hope that she will desire to be 
 
 • comely and pleasing in her looks ; she may have a husband to 
 admire her; and we know the Scripture says that a woman's 
 long hair is a glory to her. Of this glory of womanhood and 
 beauty of girlhood, you, a selfish mother, will deprive your 
 
 • daughter, if for your own taste in this first dozen of years you 
 
CHILDREN IN TUE FAMILY. HJ 
 
 ruin her hair with crimping, and weaken it by letting it grow 
 long. Only keeping hair well brushed, and growing naturally, 
 and cut short will secure a fine growth. Besides, Mary, if 
 Nettie must be frizzed and crimped as a baby, how much crimp- 
 ing and braiding and foolish decoration will she want in hef 
 young ladyhood ? Will you not lead her into those idle vanities 
 of dressing hair, which the Scripture reprobates in women pro 
 fessing godliness? " 
 
 "Why, I never thought of all this," said Mary; "and is 
 keeping the hair short, and letting it grow its own way, the 
 only means to have it soft and abundant when one is grown 
 up?" 
 
 "Yes, Mary," I said; "nothing hurts the hair more than tight 
 crimping, frizzing on hot pins or rolling up over bits of tin. 
 Wash the head in cold water, brush it often and briskly, trim off 
 the ends of the hair ; and for a child, keep it cut short." 
 
 " I'll do my best for Nettie's hair then," said Mary; " but now 
 
 tell me : Nettie sucks her thumb. Some tell me to make her 
 
 stop it, others say it is of no consequence. What do you say ? " 
 
 " It is a habit that grows on a child ; it spoils the thumb and 
 
 the shape of the mouth ; I should stop it." 
 
 " But how? I have tied on a rag, but she sucks it still," 
 " Fasten on a little glove-thumb, buttoned around her wrist, 
 so that she cannot pull it off; and soak the glove-thumb in aloes. 
 She will soon tire of putting it in her mouth." 
 
 Nettie had a blue ribbon on her hair. The child's real defect 
 ,.s, that her ears .stand out too widely from her head. Hester 
 had the little thing on her lap, and she took off this ribbon, and 
 re-tied it, placing the edges over the upper part of the ears, bind 
 (ng 'hem to the head with an easy pressure. She said to Mary, 
 vho was complaining that Nettie's ears were not pretty : 
 
 " ) Tature needs a little aiding. Let her wear her ribbons this 
 VI ay. flight and day, until she is seven or eight years old, and 
 
112 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 you will have conquered the defect entirely. And this fashion 
 of head-ribbon is becoming to her." 
 
 " Hester," said Mary, "you used to condemn dress and vanity 
 so much, I thought you would call it foolish to care about good 
 looks." 
 
 " Beauty is a gift of God," said Hester; " good looks are, in 
 themselves, a pleasure to all beholders. To cultivate good look; 
 or personal beauty is different from cultivating vanity, for in 
 proportion as self-conscious vanity comes in, really good looks 
 vanish. Since God is right in sending some children into the 
 world beautiful, and all with some elements of beauty, we are 
 right in doing all that we can to aid nature, and to make the 
 personal appearance beautiful. I think there is no finer sight 
 than to see gathered about the table a beautiful family; there is 
 something elevating and refining in that very beauty if it is 
 unmixed with low vanity and self-display; and in every family 
 tiiere will be more or less of this beauty, if there is 'neatness, 
 grace, gentleness, loving-kindness. Plato says : ' Let our youth 
 dwell in a land of health, amid fair sights and sounds, and beaut>', 
 the effluence of fair works, will meet the sense like a breeze, and 
 insensibly draw the soul, even in childhood, into harmony with 
 beauty and reason.' " 
 
 "Ah ! " said Mary, " what a pity that we cannot all be 
 beautiful ! " 
 
 " We can," said Hester. " There are three great elements of 
 personal beauty: first, healthfulness ; second, intelligence of 
 expression ; third, youthfulness. By cultivating, then, health of 
 body, developing our minds to the best of our abilities, and 
 being too industrious, patient and cheerful to get fretful and 
 care-lined and old, we shall always be very beautiful. And in 
 this beauty, parents should train their children." 
 
 Helen and Hester have not quite ceased their early disputa- 
 iions. One day we were all going to visit Cousin Ann. Heste» 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMILY. IJO 
 
 put on Anna a clean calico frock, a pair of stout shoes and a 
 wide-brimmed hat ; Helen dressed little Tom in embroidered 
 skirts, wide sash and kid boots. Hester argued that we deprived 
 children of their natural right to develop healthfully and free of 
 care, when we loaded them with fine clothes which they must 
 take care of "A child of Tom's age is a hearty little animal in 
 one-half of its nature, and has a right to untrammelled exercise, 
 plenty of air and sun, and playing in ' clean dirt ' like earth and 
 sand. Parents are unjust who deprive children of out-door life 
 for fear that they will mar their complexions, or of exercise, lest 
 they shall tear their clothes. We load children unnecessarily 
 with the curse of the Fall, when we load them with unneedful 
 clothing ; their clothes should not be a care to them, but such 
 clothes as they could forget and be happy. What a spectacle 
 to make angels weep did I see lately on Chestnut street! A 
 nine-year-old miss, in rich silk and lace, and flounces, and 
 feathers, watch, fan, chains, rings, parasol, necklace, bracelets, 
 Jaced pocket-handkerchief — costing perhaps six or seven hun- 
 dred dollars of dress as she stood — mincing along in tight boots 
 tind tight waist, pale-cheeked, and tired out. And I thought of 
 plump, rosy, little country lassies, in gingham gown and best 
 white apron, easy shoes, and sheltering sunbonnet, racing along 
 the road-sides, swinging a book-satchel, and able to climb fence 
 or tree like a boy or a squirrel, and I thanked God that there 
 would be at least a few women left for the next generation." 
 
 The fact is, Helen, while fond of her children, feels that hei 
 chief mission is to their clothes : to keep them well dressed, well 
 fed, and given nice rooms. She does not realize that the best 
 thing a mother can give her children is — herself We were at 
 Helen's one day when little Tom ran in with a fuzzy ball: 
 " Mamma ! what is this ? " 
 
 " Tom, pet ! your feet ! all dusty, and— don't touch my worJ", 
 your hands are dirty — ^pray throw that thing out." 
 
114 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " But what is it, mamma ? what is it ? " 
 " Why, I don't know, child : a bit of cotton, perhaps." 
 Tom looked disappointed. " Such a child," said Helen : 
 " forever asking questions ! " 
 
 Hester took Tom, helped herself to a plate and tumbler, went 
 out on the verandah, made a large spider captive and returneti 
 Tom screamed at the spider. 
 
 " Come, come," said Hester, " don't be a silly boy. See here : 
 this is Mrs. Spider. She is a mamma, and instead of three 
 babies like your mamma, she has about a hundred. To keep 
 her babies warm and dry, she spun them this fuzzy ball which 
 you brought in : it is their cradle. Come and look what soft, 
 yellow silk blankets ; peep in now, while I pull the blanket open; 
 do you see all those little squirming things ? Those are Mrs. 
 Spider's babies, kicking about because their bed-clothes are 
 off. Those little shiny balls are more babies, not big enough 
 to kick." 
 
 " Oh, how little ! will they grow big? " cried Tom. 
 " Yes, they will be as big as their mamma, by-and-by." 
 " But so many ! they'll run all over the house." 
 " No, Tom, as they begin to get out, rain and cold will kill 
 some ; the birds and big insects will eat a good many, and so 
 only very few will live to get as big as Spider Mamma." 
 " Poor weeny spiders ; let's put 'em all out-doors now.'' 
 " Bless me," said Helen, when Hester returned, " you'd be a 
 treasure to Tom, if you'd satisfy his mind that way.' 
 
 " Dear Helen," said Hester, " it is your duty to satisfy his 
 mind. If you teach him to take interest in natural things, talk 
 to him, and fill his little head with the good and useful and the 
 wonders of God's work, you will leave little room in it for vice 
 Mid folly that some day might break your heart." 
 " But I've no time, Hester," pleaded Helen. 
 " Take time for what is so important. Have less ruffles and 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMILY. JIJ 
 
 fency trimmings ; and you can talk to him while you sew or 
 nurse the baby ; look at his curiosities, and talk of them." 
 
 " But I don't know about all these wonders of nature." 
 
 " You can know easily enough. 'Newspapers and magazines 
 are full of articles on natural history ; if you cannot read all that 
 is in the magazine, omit the stories. There are dozens of cheap 
 little books on insects, birds, shells, animals ; feel it a duty to 
 read these for your children's sake. Throw away the novels 
 and read these. I think fewer wives would complain of loneli- 
 ness ill the needful absence of their husbands, and their own 
 severance from society, if they set seriously about being the 
 companions and 'teachers and friends of their children, and 
 making these children companions for themselves. Have Mark 
 put up two or three low shelves in the back of the hall, and 
 encourage Tom to make a museum there of his wonderful curi- 
 osities; if you talk with him about them, you may make a 
 philosopher of him, at least you will make him an observing 
 and happy little boy. In all your work it would, if you once 
 accustomed yourself to it, be a relief to your own mind and a 
 great pleasure also to .iitisfy the curiosity of your child, and 
 develop his growing thoughts." 
 
 Helen presently began complaining how destructive Tom was. 
 Mrs. Burr had come in, and she said : " Trust me, Helen, where 
 there is destructiveness there is also constriictiveness ; you can 
 stop children's destroying things by giving them something to 
 make. I think all children, but especially boys, should have 
 scissors and glue, hammer, nails, knife, boards, paper and paste, 
 and let them invent, and contrive, and manufacture : you will 
 soon see that they prefer putting things together to pulling them 
 to pieces." 
 
 " But what a house it would be with children provided in that 
 style," objected Helen. 
 
 "They ought to have a place for such work : a corner of tJid 
 
116 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 wood-shed or barn, or a share of the attic, or a place curtained 
 off somewhere if you have no separate room. A small room 
 over a kitchen, a room with a stove-pipe running through it in 
 winter, is a choice place for a boy's shop. You were glad when 
 Tom was born that you had a son : don't now wish that he was 
 a girl ; or what is as foolish, wish that he developed like a girl 
 into sewing and doll-playing. The boy spirit will out, and it is 
 yours to guide it aright." 
 
 " I often think I am foolish," said Helen, "to worry over Tom's 
 ways, his noise, and curiosity and mischief. You have no idea 
 how mischievous he is." 
 
 "I remember," I said, "that Cousin Ann told me how mis- 
 chievous Fred was when he first ran alone. One day his father 
 W.1S shaving, getting ready for church ; he had a new high silk 
 hat on the table ; he heard a crash : Fred had taken the hat and 
 turning it crown upward had made a seat of it. His father 
 flew to rescue the hat, and while he tried to straighten it, he 
 looked up, and there was Fred, razor in hand, getting ready to 
 shave." 
 
 "What ever did she do with such a child ?" cried Helen. 
 
 " She said she reasoned that here was the result of great ener- 
 gies and an active mind. The child must have an outlet for 
 these in work, study and play. She kept him employed picking 
 up chips, setting the shoes in the closet in rows, feeding chickens, 
 observing the habits of birds, making lamp-lighters, even string- 
 ing buttons ; and finally secured a habit of directing his energies 
 to useful labor, rather than to mischief Believe me, Helen, we 
 have not fulfilled our part to our children, when they are fed, 
 nursed and clothed: we must teach them. And we have not 
 doHe our part in teaching when we have taught them their pray- 
 ers, their alphabet, to sew, to count, and have then sent them 
 to ."^hool. We must guide their energies into proper outlets^ 
 and never wearj' in informing their minds." 
 
CHILDREN IN THE FAMILY. 117 
 
 "And," said Mrs. Burr, "we must build them up in honesty, 
 unselfishness, kindness, industry, purity of mind and word." 
 
 "And," added Hester, "all these virtues must rest on the 
 foundation stone of obedience, regard for law. I remember Plato 
 says : ' Our youths should be educated in a stricter rule from 
 the first, for if education becomes lawless, and the youths them 
 selves become lawless, they can never grow up into well-con 
 ducted and virtuous citizens.' " 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 SICKNESS IN THE HOME. 
 AUNT SOPHRONIA ON NURSING AND HEALTH-PRESERVING. 
 
 HEARD a foolish neighbor once remark, that he always 
 felt angry at sick people — that sickness was a mere out- 
 come of wickedness. God made people to be healthy, 
 and when they were not so, it was because they had been 
 violating some plain principle of life, "doing something that 
 they ought not to have done, or leaving undone those things 
 which they ought to have done — and there is no health in them : " 
 he quoted the prayer-book right then and there. I felt quite 
 provoked at him, and I said : " My good friend, you'll have to 
 carry some of your anger as far back as Adam, to find a suitable 
 object, because sickness is part of the curse of the Fall, and is 
 the seed of death, which Adam brought into the world. Do 
 you remember what Christ said about the man that was born 
 blind ? ' Neither did this man sin, nor his parents, that he was 
 born blind,' meaning that the blindness was the fruit of no 
 especial wickedness in them." 
 
 However, as I calmly consider it, I see that there was a grain 
 of sense in my neighbor's observations ; there is in most people's, 
 and I must relieve my mind by saying that there is not more 
 than a grain of sense in most people's talk. Still the more 1 
 think upon it, the more clearly I see that sickness, especially 
 epidemics, and diseases of a kind which seize upon whole families, 
 or recur frequently in the same families, are often, perhaps nearly 
 
 always, the result of some ignorance or carelessness of our own, 
 
 (118) 
 
SICKNESS IN- THE HOME. ^^jl 
 
 We do not half understand the laws of health ; we do not study 
 half carefully enough the needs and dangers of our own bodies ; 
 we do not half enough respect our bodies, which we should 
 cherish and regard as homes of immortal spirits, and especially 
 because, if we will have it so, God himself condescends to 
 iibide in his people, and to use humanity for his service. That 
 is a poor form of religion which affects to despise the body that 
 God made in his own image. 
 
 When I read the biographies of such men as Martyn, Payson, 
 Brainerd and others, who have done great good in the world, 
 but, doing it burdened by feeble bodies, finally died prematurely, 
 and so deprived humanity of much more good which they might 
 have done had they lived to the ordinary limit of human life, 1 
 consider their evident neglect of their bodies, their reckless 
 exposure to fatigue and storms, their depriving them of proper 
 nourishment, a positive crime. Many good men have so lived 
 that they made it impossible for God to spare them for longer 
 work, except by a miracle, so did they contravene the laws and 
 despise the lights of nature. In this present day, possibly, there 
 is too much devotion to purely physical culture, and good men 
 indulge their bodies too much, and devote to the'r comfort too 
 large a proportion of their thoughts and efforts. There is a happy 
 mean to be attained, and toward that we should move. Sickly 
 bodies very often produce feeble brains, bad manners, and bad 
 morals. This is especially true where the feebleness of body 
 begins in childhood; the weakly child cannot learn with 
 zeal and plcTTure: it is peevish and cowardly; a house full of 
 sickly children is a house full of cares, anxious and overtaxed 
 parents, -onfusion, and often poverty, induced by the heavj* 
 expenses of illness. The Home can only be really bright and 
 orderly where there is general health and vigor. A husband 
 and father works at a great disadvantage, who goes out to his 
 daily toil wearied with a wakeful night by a sick-bed, and bur- 
 
J 20 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 dened with anxiety for the patients left behind him. In God's 
 providence such seasons occur in most homes, but it is also in 
 God's providence that we should strive to have them occur as 
 seldom as possible. 
 
 It seem.'; to me that the ancients very appropriately had a god- 
 Jess as well as a god of health and the healing art, inasmuch as 
 Hie care and preservation of health comes so largely within the 
 natural sphere of woman. Vigorous constitutions can be built 
 up in well-conducted homes, and this even when the natural 
 constitution is feeble. I have done in my time a great deal of 
 talking on the subject of healthful homes. At Mrs. Black's 
 some one is sick half or more than naif the time ; I visited Mrs. 
 Black once to offer any service in my power, when two of her 
 daughters were ill. Mrs. Black said : " It is impossible to keep 
 well in this world where there are so many thmgs to induce 
 disease." I replied : "We must not blame the world too rashly, 
 Mrs. Black, for we shall find that while there are many things 
 to induce disease, there are just as many to produce good 
 health." 
 
 " Look at our changeful climates : hot one day, cold the next." 
 
 "True; but if, summer and winter, we would wear a flannel 
 garment next the skin, varying the thickness of the garment with 
 the change of season, we should, provided we kept the feet in 
 sufficiently thick shoes, very seldom be affected by the changes 
 in the temperature." 
 
 "As for flannel," said Mrs. Black, "my girls won't wear it; il 
 makes them look so stout and full about the chest and waist" 
 
 " I hope the day will come," I replied, " when a wasp-waisl 
 and a pair of thin shoulders will not be esteemed beauty: we 
 have had our ideas ruined by trash novels, praising 'fragile 
 forms' and 'delicate beauty,' ' dainty waists,' " snow-drop faces,' 
 and a lot of other nonsense. What prospect have such beauties 
 of seeing three-score, or what physique are their sons likely to 
 
SICKNESS jN the HOME. 12I 
 
 possess ? Indeed, Mrs. Black, I think you should have made it 
 a matter of course, from infancy, that your children wore flannel 
 under-garments. Really, there is nothing cheaper, safer, or 
 more comfortable. I knew a young girl whose two elder sisters 
 had died with consumption ; symptoms of the disease appeared 
 in her : a friend took her to a famous physician. He said : ' She 
 had better be sent to the south of France.' The lady replied : 
 ' Doctor, her parents are absolutely unable to take her away from 
 home ; they have not the means.' The doctor meditated : it was 
 November: ' Has she flannel on?' No, the young lady did not 
 like flannel. ' Take her home,' said the doctor, ' and put her in 
 heavy flannel from her neck to her toes, and see that she wears 
 it, with some variation as to quality, twelve months in the year.' 
 The order was obeyed, and for ten years she has been in good 
 health." 
 
 "And there is another means of health-preserving, Mrs. Black, 
 which we greatly ne^ect— sunshine. Plenty of sunshine is a 
 very wine of life. We should let it fall broadly into our rooms, 
 especially where we eat, sit and sleep. Nine months in the year 
 our windows should daily stand broadly open for a sun-bath 
 In our hot summers, our homes seem to get saturated with 
 sunshine, unless our houses are very thickly shaded by vines and 
 trees, and possibly then two hours of early morning sunshine 
 will be enough." 
 
 " But, my dear Miss Sophronia, it ruins the carpets." 
 " Better sacrifice the carpets than the health : we are too much 
 the slaves of carpets ; if I could not have the carpet and the sun, 
 I would give up the carpet. The'sunbeams hold no spores of 
 disease : carpets frequently do ; sunbeams have no dust, danger- 
 ous to weak lungs : carpets do. But, Mrs. Black, a drugget, or 
 a carpet-cover, or even a coarse sheet can be flung over the car- 
 pet if it needs protecting ; and then let in those invigorating rays, 
 which God meant should counteract disease. I believe many 
 
122 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 diseases can be cured by merely plenty of fresh air and sun 
 
 shine." 
 
 Mrs. Black was dwelling on my heterodoxy as to carpets. 
 
 "Dear Miss Sophronia! banish carpets! bare floors! What 
 would you do? How would you live?" 
 
 " Mrs. Black, it seems to me that we do not sufficiently value 
 mattings, especially in bed-rooms. They are free from dust ; of 
 a good quality, they wear a long time; they are easy to sweep; 
 they look clean ; and the sun does not harm them : remember, 
 they grew under tropic suns ; they have no harmful dye-stuffs in 
 them. Some object that they are cold, but this can be obviated 
 by rugs laid before the bed, washstand and bureau. Let me 
 tell you my experience: I spent a year once, while my house 
 was being built, with my half-sister in the city. She treated me 
 royally; my bed-room was dressed in rose and gray French 
 chintz, rose-tinted wall-paper, and had a rose-colored velvet car- 
 pet. It was altogether too fine for the sun to shine in : the sun 
 would ruin it. A furnace, with air-feeders from out of doors, 
 kept the house warm and dry ; but nevertheless I was a martyr 
 to rheumatism. Cousin Ann, hearing this, sent for me to spend 
 the next winter with her at the farm. My room had white- 
 v/ashed walls, white curtains, a white counterpane and white 
 matting." 
 
 "Goodness!" interrupted Mrs. Black, "I should think it would 
 have made you think of a whited sepulchre!" 
 
 " Not at all," I retorted : "its conditions were such that it was 
 unlikely to have in it either rottenness or dead men's bones, 
 Color was lent it by three or four bright rugs and a colored 
 set of toilette mats, with a few pictures. I kept wondering why 
 that simple room looked and felt so beautiful. I perceived that 
 the floods of sunshine, which, during the whole day, poured in 
 at one of its three bright windows lent it its chief charm. My 
 health was perfectly restored." 
 
SICKNESS IN THE HOME. 12& 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Black, " my girls would rather be sick half 
 the time than get well by wearing flannels and stout shoes, and 
 going out in the sun exercising and spoiling their complexions, 
 or having their carpets and curtains faded out by having all th« 
 blinds open." 
 
 "But as a mere matter of beauty, Mrs. Black," I urged. 
 * There is no beauty in a sallow, sickly complexion, and if 
 they are sick half the time, what will result ? Medicine and bad 
 digestion will ruin their teeth ; ill health will make their faces 
 wan and faded; their color will be lost; their hair will be dry 
 and thin; at twenty-five they will look ten years older; they 
 will have a fretted, disappointed, troubled expression, and will 
 always feel dispirited and uncomfortable." 
 
 However, there is no use talking with Mrs. Black. It is no 
 wonder that her girls are so captious, and look so feeble. Thin- 
 soled shoes, no flannel, no exercise, very little fresh air, and 
 almost no sunshine in their house ; and this record might do for 
 very many other families. 
 
 When Miriam and Helen set up housekeeping, I especially 
 urged on them the advantages of fresh air in their houses, and 
 plenty of sunshine. I said : 
 
 " Don't have any shut-up rooms and corners in your homes 
 to breed pestilence ; sun and air the rooms that are unused, aa 
 well as those that are used. Remember, a housekeeper is the 
 health-keeper of her household; her vigilance should extend 
 over the whole house from garret to cellar. The housekeeper 
 should visit her garret to see that it has ventilation, and is not a 
 tight-box to be crowded with bad air and fumes rising from 
 the other parts of the house, and being packed there to continue 
 their corruption, and come down in uuvixpected puffs; the 
 garret should be kept free from dust, ard should have a lattice- 
 window always open ; or, if you have not that and cannot have 
 it. have a small window, or half a window, with a piece of stouf 
 
124 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 muslin nailed tightly over it: that will secure ventilation and 
 sufficiently turn rain. 
 
 " When a wise man goes abroad, he puts a hat on his head 
 and shoes on his feet, protecting both extremities. Don't forget 
 the feet of your house — feet planted in the cellar : have a clean 
 cellar and a dry cellar. I should have the cellar lime-washed, 
 drained, and made dry, if I went without a parlor sofa or a best 
 •set of china to be able to get the means for these improvements." 
 
 "Upon my word, aunt," said Helen, "I thought Hannah 
 •ould be trusted with the cellar!' 
 
 " Not a bit of it, my dear ; she could much more safely be 
 trusted with the parlor; she would take more interest in that, 
 and could better appreciate the need of tidy dusting to make a 
 place fit for callers, than the need of cellar-cleaning to make a 
 louse healthful. You have a swing-shelf: suppose a bowl of 
 gravy is there upset and left to mould ; that in a corner of the 
 floor half a peck of small potatoes are left to sprout long, sickly 
 stems ; that on a box a few cabbage-leaves hastily stripped from 
 the head lie rotting ; that an odd turnip, carrot, beet, parsnip or 
 two are also decaying here and there. All of these things 
 generate disease ; from this vegetable decay, housed in a cellar, 
 which Hannah never thinks to air, there will float into your 
 pretty bed-room, your immaculate parlor, spores of fever and 
 sore throat. Your milk and butter, brought from this poisoned 
 cellar, are mysteriously corrupted before you eat them, and 
 they vitiate your blood. You should visit your cellar at least 
 ivery other day. If the potatoes begin to sprout, you should 
 ,aave the sprouts rubbed off and carried away, not left to die in 
 ihe cellar. Every week the shelf should be scrubbed with hot 
 soda-water or soft soap-suds, the floor swept, the windows 
 opened for a thorough airing; not a scrap of animal or vege- 
 table matter should be left there to decay. Trust me, Helen, a 
 cel'iar is a very important part of the house, and a house cannc 
 Oe healthy whore there is an ill-keot cellar." 
 
SICKNESS IN- THE HOME. 12.1 
 
 I was very glad that Mark and Miriam realized the necessities 
 Di* ventilation and thorough drainage. The drain, which carried 
 off the water from the washing, sloped well, and ran some dis- 
 tance from the house. I have seen people fling washing sud? 
 out close to their houses. " What odds clean suds ? " they cry 
 It seems to me that the suds which our soiled clothes are 
 washed in cannot be very clean ; and as we know that the suds 
 which garments of small-pox, cholera and fever-patients are 
 washed in contain the germs of the disease, and cast upon the 
 ground are likely to breed that disease in their locality, so we 
 might suppose that many of the lesser ailments of our bodies 
 contribute their share of disease germs, which can do harm in 
 their own proportion, through the decaying suds -of a family 
 washing. Again, some very tid)' housekeepers do not realize the 
 excessive caution that should be used with sinks and drains 
 where bath-water, dish-water and scrubbing- water are cast out. 
 More diseases than we now suspect are propagated by minute 
 spores. It is about a century since the "germ theory" of dis- 
 ease was first announced, and we are daily learning more and 
 more, that as the air is filled with spores of cryptogamous 
 plants, distributing fungus and all varieties of mould, so is the 
 air filled with floating particles of disease, gathered not only 
 by swamps and sick-beds, and by sloughs of confessedly and 
 notoriously unclean matter, but very often from places which 
 we suppose to be clean and safe. Dr. Richardson tells us that 
 the spores of small-pox, yellow, typhoid and scarlet fevers, 
 cholera, diphtheria, measles, and kindred diseases are so small 
 that twenty thousand of them, end to end, would not reach the 
 length of an inch ; fifty million might be put in a cubic inch. 
 Yet each spore could create its own disease in a human frame, 
 falling on some tissue irritated by cold, or inflamed, or weakened, 
 or even normally healthy. 
 
 I had a talk once with Miriam on the subject of sai-soda. 
 
126 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 which talk Miriam thought very beneficial to her. I said to her. 
 " Miriam," — for I was with her in the kitchen, where she was 
 making pies, and I was knitting by the window — " Miriam, there 
 is hardly a more valuable agent in household cleanliness than 
 sal-soda. It is very cheap, from two to four cents a pound. If 
 you put a pound of it in a gallon of water and throw half a tea 
 cup of this solution into your dish-water once a day, say at din 
 ner, you will find the trouble of dish-washing reduced one-half, 
 as the soda destroys the grease : your dish-cloth or mop would 
 be kept white and pure with very little rubbing: you would save 
 soap, and you could more easily keep your sink and its drain 
 clean. Your sink is scrubbed beautifully clean, but you cannot 
 so scour the pipe which carries out the water. The particles of 
 animal and vegetable matter in the dish-water, the gjease which 
 it contains, adhere by degrees to the sides of the pipe, coat it, 
 and there corrupt. You scald the sink wkh Iiot soap-suds, that 
 pass into the pipe and are a help in removing this decayed 
 matter, but cannot remove all of it. If the pipe is metal, the 
 decay unites with the metal and produces mineral as well 
 as animal and vegetable poison. A current of air drives up 
 through the pipe, and carries with it viewless atoms of violent 
 poison and dangerous decay, and they tremble in the air of your 
 house : or ever you are aware, they have entered your nose, 
 throat and stomach. These atoms can produce influenza, diph- 
 ■ theria, fever. Therefore, at all cost, let us have these drain-pipes 
 clean. The sal-soda in your dish-water will here be a great help, 
 devouring the grease in the dish-water and on the sides of the 
 pipe. Twice a week take some strong boiling sal-soda watei 
 and pour it slowly down your sink. Once a month at least treat 
 -it in this way with concentrated lye-water; boiling soft-soap 
 suds is also very valuable for this use. Cousin Ann, who 
 always has a leech of ashes set up, mixes boiling water and 
 strong lye, and "pours it through her drains once a week : she 
 
SICKNESS IN- THE HOME. 121 
 
 uses a little lye-water instead of the sal-soda for her dishes also. 
 A little sal-soda water used in scouring tables, floors which 
 are unpainted, pie-boards, rolling-pins, and other woodenware, 
 keeps them immaculately clean at small cost in trouble and 
 expense." 
 
 I noticed what Mrs. Burr said one day in regard to the health 
 of Homes. " We have yet to come to a realizing sense of the 
 danger to our health that lies in decaying things. Decay is part 
 of death ; atoms of decay planted in the tissues of our bodies 
 are so many seeds of death. And yet how are we surrounded 
 by this decay, and unconscious or careless of it ! We use the 
 same wall-paper for years, or leave a whitewashed wall, season 
 after season, untouched. In these walls, especially in those 
 hung with paper, are planted atoms of corruption breathed out 
 by sick people, wafted from beds of fever, gathered out of 
 malarious air. Shelves, sinks, drains, wooden vessels are washed, 
 and look clean, but buried in their fibre is corrupting animal 
 or vegetable matter. Cleanly housekeepers, of course, will be 
 sure to have perfectly clean dish-cloths, towels and kettle-cloths ; 
 and yet hundreds who would resent being called dirty have a 
 mass of filthy rags tucked into corners for use in the kitchen, 
 and around cooking vessels, any rag of which is foul enough to 
 breed a pestilence. More than half our servants doat on a pot- 
 closet as a convenient dust-hole, and few of therti are so cleanly 
 that their mistresses may be exempted from a personal inspection 
 of that locality. The soap-grease firkin and the swill-pail be- 
 come centres of corruption, and before we know it the cistern, 
 built, as most of them are, without a filter, becomes deadly. 
 A housekeeper needs the hundred(»eyes of Argus to see that her 
 home is free from these dangers. And why not ? Argus was 
 merely watching golden apples, but the housewife is set on guard 
 over the health of husband, children and guests." 
 
 When children came into the homes of Miriam and Helen, 
 
128 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 and other of my young friends and relations, I felt more than 
 ever anxious that they should know how to preserve the health- 
 fulness of their homes. I was talking to Cousin Ann about this 
 one day, when she laughed and said she would make my nieces, 
 Mary Smalley, and some other of the young folks, a present. A 
 k^ weeks after she sent them each a large card, with a few lines 
 handsomely printed upon it, thus : 
 
 HOW TO HAVE A HEALTHFUL HOUSE. 
 
 Have plenty of sunshine in your living rooms. 
 
 Keep the whole house well aired. 
 
 Have a clean garret, well ventilated. 
 
 Have a perfectly clean, dry cellar. 
 
 Renew whitewash and wall-paper often. 
 
 Have every drain clean and carried far from the house. 
 
 Allow no decaying refuse near the house. 
 
 Keep the walls and floors dry. 
 
 Use freely, in cleaning, lye, ammonia, and sal-soda. 
 
 Use freely lime, especially as whitewash. 
 
 I took one of these cards in triumph to Mary Smalley; it was 
 about a year after she married Samuel Watkins, as fine a young 
 fellow as one would wish to see. Mary was nursing little Nettie, 
 and I sat down with her in the kitchen. It was a lovely June 
 afternoon. The honeysuckle vine over the porch was in bloom; 
 the door-step and the yard around were clean as a broom could 
 make them ; the kitchen floor was well painted in yellow, and 
 Mary's favorite mats were scattered about, and a pretty cover 
 of her manufacture was over a little stand by the window 
 Mary had followed her own good taste in many of her arrange- 
 ments, and she had taken example also by Miriam, who had 
 been very friendly to her. 
 
 She had taken a girl of about twelve from an asylum to help 
 her in the house, and this girl was out under an apple tree scour 
 
SICJCNESS IN THE IfOME. 129 
 
 ing tins. The whole house and its environs made a pretty pic- 
 ture of comfort, thrift and content. I said as much to Mary. 
 
 "We get on very nicely," said Mary. " I do not get my work 
 done quite as easily as Mrs. Rogers; but then she had not tjie 
 cows and the chickens and the farm-hands, as I have. But 
 thanks to mother's teaching me how to work, and Mrs. Rogers 
 showing me good methods of doing it, I succeed very well." 
 
 I gave Mary the card: she read it and was well pleased; but 
 after looking at it for a time, she said : 
 
 " This tells us how to have a healthy house ; but is that all 
 we need to know to have healthy children ? Let her tell us how 
 we must take care of them — to have them hearty and healthy in 
 this healthy house." 
 
 I thought Mary's point was very well made, so I said : 
 
 " Truly, Mary, you are interesting yourself in a subject which 
 should occupy every mother's thoughts. I will speak to Cousin 
 Ann on the matter, and see what information she can give you." 
 
 I went out accordingly to visit Cousin Ann, and as we sat 
 comfortably together between dinner and tea, I took from my 
 pocket a bit of Doctor Guthrie's writing, and read to her as 
 follows : 
 
 " With care and prudence human life may be extended con- 
 siderably beyond the ordinary period. The truth is, few pepple 
 die a natural death. Some are murdered ; but the greater part, 
 who have arrived at years of discretion, commit a sort of suicide, 
 through their neglect of the ordinary rules of health, or their 
 injudicious use of meat, drink, or medicine." 
 
 "That is true enough," said Cousin Ann, adjusting her sijec- 
 tacles; "but a large part of the human race do not arrive at 
 years of discretion : those who die in childhood, I suppose Doc 
 tor Guthrie would set down as murdered after a sort, namely, by 
 the ignorance or indiscretion of parents." 
 
 "A nd doubtless, cousin, the foundation of living in a serene 
 
ISij THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 old age, 'beyond the ordinary 1-mit of human years,' is laid in 
 infancy, by careful physical culture." 
 
 " Be sure it is. I devoted my cares to securing health for my 
 children from their first breath." 
 
 "And very likely you found your cares more efficient and 
 judicious for your sixth child than for your first." 
 
 " Certainly ; else where would be the good of experience ? " 
 
 "And if, in the babyhood of your first child, some well-expe- 
 rienced mother had given you the benefit of her observations, it 
 might have been exceedingly useful to you, and yours." 
 
 " Yes, certainly; only in a measure, rules being laid down, we 
 must learn to apply them for ourselves. Still, good rules are 
 of unspeakable value." 
 
 " Well, Cousin Ann, these young mothers among our friends 
 want to gi"t the benefit of your experience, and desire that you 
 should g've them some instructions in regard to training physi- 
 cally their little ones." 
 
 "Bless me, Sophronia," said Cousin Ann; "as far as that 
 goes, you have looked into the subject of health-keeping as 
 fully as I have, and can tell them all they need to know." 
 
 "That may be, cousin. Yet, as you have raised six hearty 
 children, the advice might come with more weight and authority 
 from your lips than from mine, even though the advice was 
 identical in both cases." 
 
 So after a little talking Cousin Ann agreed to make a tea- 
 party and afternoon visit for our young friends, and I went 
 around with the invitations. They came early, and were all 
 expectation to hear Cousin Ann's advice. 
 
 " Come," said Helen, " we expect to be packed full of learn- 
 ing which shall benefit our descendants at least to the fourth 
 generation. Begin, Cousin Ann ; time is not tarrying." 
 
 "How am I to begin?" asked Cousin Ann. "Upon my 
 word, I don't know what I ought to say, nor where to com 
 mence." 
 
SICJCNESS IN THE HOME. i.j] 
 
 "Begin at the beginning," said Miriam. "Here are these 
 blessed babies; they are darling little animals which spend 
 :.alf their time in eating, and the other half in sleeping, and if 
 there is any time left over, they occupy it in staring about." 
 
 " They act as nature dictates," said Cousin Ann, " and which 
 (vork — eating or sleeping — is the more important I cannot tell. 
 As to the sleeping, strive to promote it, for by it a babe grows. 
 Never let rude noises rouse it; let no pride in displaying the 
 child, no neighborly curiosity, call it from slumber ; let it sleep 
 in silence, and in a room moderately darkened ; have an abso- 
 lutely regular time for putting it to sleep at night, whether it 
 seems sleepy or not : habit is all-powerful. At that bed-time 
 strip off all its day-garments, don't leave for night even a shirt 
 worn in day ; and let the child sleep in flannel which is clean, 
 and during the day has, been well-aired and sunned. Some 
 children thrive on a bath both at rising and at bed-time ; some 
 are better only for the morning-bath. If the child is not fully 
 bathed at night, wash its head well in cold water, and rub the 
 whole body briskly with your hand or a soft towel : this pro- 
 motes circulation and induces slumber. Until a child is six 
 years old, encourage it to sleep late in the morning, for the first 
 years of a child's life need much sleep. After the child is six, 
 have a regular hour for rising as well as for retiring ; but never 
 fail to send it early to bed until it is thirteen years old. A 
 child should be covered warmly, but not too warmly; its 
 sleeping place should be well aired, and it should never sleep 
 with its head covered up. Neither is it good for. a child to 
 sleep sunk in feathers, or in a bed with grown people ; for the little 
 creatures sink down and injure their blood by inhaling bad air. 
 A moderately hard bed, which daily is well aired and sunned, 
 is best for a child. I prefer to any other a straw bed, where the 
 straw is renewed at least every three months — better every two 
 Little children should sleep much in the day-time; even if 
 
132 THE COAfPLETE HOME. 
 
 they do not seem sleepy it is better, morning and afternoon, to 
 wash their hands and faces, put on a loose slip, remove their 
 shoes, and place them on a bed : they will soon get a habit of 
 sleeping at these intervals ; their constant activity when waking 
 and the necessities of growth demand much rest." 
 
 Cousin Ann paused, and our party discussed the sleep ques 
 tion for some time. Then Mary Smalley said : 
 
 " Cousin Ann, what about the other point — the child's food ? " 
 
 " Nature itself teaches," said Cousin Ann, "that if a mother is 
 healthful and able to nurse her babe from her own breast, she 
 should do so. If this is impossible, I would prefer feeding a 
 child to the dangers of wet-nursing. Some physicians advocate 
 goats' milk rather than cows' ; whichever milk is used, a mother 
 should prepare it and the vessels in which it is placed herself, 
 using most scrupulous care as regards the purity and the 
 soundness of the food, its temperature, quality and flavor. You 
 ruin a child's health by giving it one while hot milk, again 
 cold milk ; now unsweetened, now loaded with sugar ; letting 
 the bottle or cup smell of stale milk, or the milk offered be on 
 the verge of acidity. 
 
 " I have seen people give a child of six or eight months old 
 all kinds of food, even to cucumber-pickle and salt pork. A 
 young child should have milk alone for six months at least. 
 Possibly then a little well-made, clear mutton-broth or beef-tea 
 might be given occasionally. The next addition to diet could 
 be ground rice made into a thin giuel, provided you grind the rice 
 yourself. By the time a child is ten months old it might be 
 allowed a bit of broiled beefsteak or a wing of fowl to suck in its 
 own fashion. When it is a year old, boiled oats, rice, a baked 
 potato smoothly mashed, a little corn-meal mush or gruel, and ripe 
 fruit may find a place on its bill of fare. Never give a child, under 
 six years old, cake, preserves, pies, tea, coffee or pickles. Let 
 their food be plain, given at regular intervals, well cooked, usin;^ 
 
SICKNESS IN THE HOME. 133 
 
 little fat, and no fried things, and the variety not very great. 
 A child, who has plenty of sleep, plenty of good air, plenty of 
 play out of doors, will always be ready for a hearty meal of bread 
 or mush and milk, baked potatoes, mutton or rice-pudding. 
 Don't fancy every tir/.e a babe cries that it is hungry ; perhaps 
 its discomfort is from surfeit. Don't urge a child to eat, pam- 
 pering its appclite, and pressing dainties upon it ; and don't 
 check its appetite for plain, wholesome food. Remember the 
 child eats to live and to grow, and it needs more food in pro- 
 portion to its size than a man needs." 
 
 "Should children eat between meals?" asked Mary Watkins. 
 
 "I should never refuse a child an apple or a slice of plain 
 bread and butter between meals; for all we know the little one 
 may really be faint and hungry ; neither should I give a child a 
 hearty lunch just before dinner or just after breakfast. Children 
 get a habit of eating at improper times. I have seen children 
 screaming for toast or meat, just as they got into bed, an hour 
 after supper. Don't give a child pie, cake, or bread piled with 
 sugar, honey or molasses between meals. When it asks for 
 bread, never refuse it." 
 
 " Now for the baby's third fashion of spending its time ; for 
 instance, in staring around," said Helen. 
 
 "There is little to say as to that; never let the child sit or lie 
 with light falling across its eyes, nor gazing at a strong light. 
 Don't let it have hangings or playthings too near its eyes ; put 
 whatever it looks at fairly before it, and let it have plenty to look 
 at. Babies like bright things; make them balls or cushions of 
 bright-colored worsteds, generally of red, never of green or brown, 
 lest there be poison in the dye; little cats and rabbits of cotton 
 flannel, and rag-dolls dressed in gay colors, are things to please 
 its eye, and cannot hurt it when it knocks them about, or thrusts 
 them in its mouth. As the child is older, give it books made 
 of pictures pasted on leaves of muslin, sewed in a strong cover. 
 
134 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Let the room where a child spends its waking hours be bright 
 and cheerful; let pleasant faces and voices surround it; don't 
 jerk it or startle it; happiness is a large element in health 
 fulness." 
 
 "Tell me, Cousin Ann," said I, "do y^J carry out through 
 life your rule of changing all one's garments from day to 
 night?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Cousin Ann ; " I think many a fever, many a 
 fit of jaundice or biliousness, would be saved if one would 
 divest themselves at night of all which they wear during the 
 day. Many wear the same flannel vest night and day ; they 
 would be far more robust and cheery if the day flannel were 
 removed, well shaken and hung up wrong side out during the 
 night, and a night flannel were used, served the same fashion 
 by day. I have seen people allow children to go to bed in their 
 stockings, because they say the beds are cold : that plan is ter- 
 ribly unhealthful, and promotive of sore throats and fevers. 
 Every child's feet should be well warmed and dried before retir- 
 ing; a mother should see to that herself, and if from lack of 
 circulation the feet do not keep warm at night, then heat an old 
 flannel skirt, or a piece of a blanket, and let the feet be wrapped 
 up in that. Many a weary hour by sick beds, many tears over 
 coffins would be saved, if mothers looked more closely after 
 their children's feet, that they might be warmed when cold, and 
 have shoes and hose changed when wet." 
 
 " Many people would say your idea about night and day flan- 
 nels demanded too many clothes, and made too large washings," 
 suggested Mary Watkins. 
 
 " I should reply, that clothes were cheaper than doctors' bills 
 and washing less onerous work than sick-nursing. Besides, a 
 set of flannels too thin for further day-use, can be darned and 
 mended up for night, and as after all the clothing is worn but 
 twenty-four hours out of a day, I cannot see that washing would 
 be materially increased." 
 
s/CArjy£ss in the home. 13a 
 
 " Do you think people should sleep in winter between sheet? 
 or blankets?" asked one of Cousin Ann's auditors. 
 
 " Between sheets, by all means : they are likely to be changed 
 each week, and blankets, owing to weight and color, are not 
 likely to get washed so often. Pounds of insensible perspira 
 tion, carrying particles of waste matter, flow off from the pores 
 of our bodies during sleep ; this refuse matter fills the clothes 
 we wear, and our bedding : thence arises the need of exchange 
 between night and day clothes, and of ample washing and airing 
 of our beddfng. Some people make their beds as soon as they 
 rise. This is a dangerous plan ; not tidy, as they fancy, but 
 really very dirty. I think one reason why Germans are sc 
 healthy generally is, that they have such a passion for airing 
 their beds ; they let them lie airing half the time. However, 
 I believe an hour each morning, when the night and bed- 
 clothes are spread well out to air and sunlight, and perhaps twc, 
 hours on sweeping day, will keep the beds in very good 
 order." 
 
 Cousin Ann began to bustle about, as if she thought that sh& 
 had talked quite enough. But Miriam cried out : " One word. 
 Cousin Ann, on exercise and play." 
 
 " Take a lesson from the young of the brute creation— from 
 the calves, colts and lambs. They thrive on air, sunshine and 
 free gambols. Let your children go out every day, unless per- 
 haps in heavy rain. You can soon inure them to cold or damp 
 weather, if they are well protected and do not sit down in the 
 wet or draughts. Don't fear sun and wind for them : let them 
 race and climb and jump, and dress them in strong, easy-fitting 
 clothes, so that they may be untrammelled in the development 
 of their muscles. Don't force a child to any study before it is 
 seven years old ; before that time you can make a play of learning 
 to read, to count, and to draw and cipher a little. In the reading 
 you provide a pleasant occupation for days of storm or ill health. 
 
136 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Most bright children, with a box of letter-blocks, an alphabet 
 card and a picture primer, will pick up reading before they are 
 more than five. Give a child a seat suited to its height, and 
 with a back ; let its pillow be very low ; don't hurry it as a babe 
 lo sit, stand or walk before nature urges it to do so : this over- 
 haste and letting the boneless legs bear the child's weight give 
 weak backs and crooked limbs. Each night and morning as 
 you dress the young child, firmly and gently rub and press the 
 legs straight, doing your part to prevent that ugly curve which 
 distorts so many weak legs. If you want your child to be vig- 
 orous in play and exercise, give it an abundance of baths : bathe 
 it every day, using warm or cold v/ater — never hot, never freez- 
 ing, but warm or cold as best agrees with your child's constitu- 
 tion. Don't forget that in infancy and childhood you are start- 
 ing your child on the voyage of life, which is likely to be long 
 and prosperous, or short and hapless, according as you give it a 
 wise start — a sound, healthful, physical training. When you 
 rear boys, don't be afraid to have them real boys ; know that it is 
 natural to them to fish, ride, skate, sled, row, hunt; and so let 
 them do it, in honest company and with wise limitations. Don't 
 be afraid that your girl will be tomboyish ; if she will coast, and 
 ride, climb, and skate, and run, so much the better: to exercise 
 vigorously is neither rude nor immodest; we get hardy, health- 
 ful girls in the same fashion as hardy, healthy boys, and I had 
 much rather see little miss at fourteen jumping a fence, climb- 
 ing a tree, scaling the roof and riding barebacked, while her 
 cheek knows how to blush at too fixed a gaze, and eyes and 
 ears are not greedily hunting for compliments, than to see her 
 simpering and small-talking, playing the immature flirt with 
 every jacket which comes in sight, her whole soul fixed on the 
 set of her dress and the doing of her hair." 
 
 Cousin Ann had quite excited herself on her favorite theme : 
 she paused, smiled, wiped her face, laid by her spectacles and 
 
SICKNESS IN THE HOME. 137 
 
 her knitting, and stepped into the kitchen to give a careful eye 
 to the supper. Altogether we had all had a most instructive visit 
 
 To my surprise and I must say my gratification I found that 
 my young friends did not yet think themselves perfectly accora 
 plished in regard to conserving and procuring family health, and 
 that they desired yet further information. I received an invita 
 tion to early tea at Mary's, and repairing thither, I found all the 
 young circle there. Indeed, the company was a partnership 
 affair ; Miriam and Helen had both contributed to the tea, and 
 lent their help in preparing; Helen had brought Hannah to 
 nurse 'several of the babies out in the garden, in order to leave 
 the mothers uninterrupted, and Miriam had brought little Ann, 
 whom she had taken from me, to wait on the table. No sooner 
 was I seated in the centre of the group, than Miriam, as speaker 
 for the rest, said : 
 
 "Aunt Sophronia, we have been instructed how to keep our 
 houses healthful ; we have had much advice as to how to keep 
 our children healthful, and to build up sound bodies for sound 
 minds to inhabit. But even in healthful houses disease makes 
 its appearance, and even the most vigorous children sometimes 
 fall ill. Now, Aunt Sophronia, we shall be poorly off, if we 
 do not know how to meet disease — how to nurse our sick. 
 Instruct us." 
 
 " My dear Miriam," I said, " it seems to me that to most sen- 
 sible women sick-nursing comes by instinct. It is an instinct 
 which falls to the share of some men, and of ijiost women." 
 
 " Instinct is very good," said Miriam, " but reason is better ' 
 
 " I have seen some women perfectly lost and helpless in a 
 sick-room," remarked Mary. 
 
 " I'm afraid I'd be very much in that case ! " cried Helen. 
 
 "And you know," added some one else, " that even if we are 
 so unusually fortunate as to have little or no sickness in our 
 own families, we should be capable of lending our aid to our 
 friends and neighbors." 
 
138 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Indeed," I said, " a woman who cannot wisely do duty in a 
 sick-room is like a woman who has lost her right hand." 
 
 " Begin then, Aunt Sophronia," said Miriam, "at the begin- 
 ning. Let us see to the sick-room first, then to the nurse, ther 
 to the patient, then to the medicine and food." 
 
 " When you may choose a sick-room," I said, " get one as 
 large as possible : crowding, closeness and rustling against 
 things distract a patient. Take this room, as commodious a 
 one as you can find, and have it thoroughly cleaned : white- 
 washed walls are better for it than paper-hangings, and a mat- 
 ting, with rugs, than a carpet. You must place the bed so that 
 the room can be completely ventilated without a draught pass- 
 ing over the bed. A fire-place is a rare treat in a sick-room, 
 ventilating it, removing dampness, and making good cheer ; even 
 in a summer sick-room a little wood-fire in a fire-place, morning 
 and evening, would be useful. Dr. Guthrie gives good advice ; 
 he says that he exposed himself freely to infectious and conta- 
 gious diseases in his ministerial duties, and never contracted 
 any illness because he was careful to insist ' on the door being 
 left open while he was in the room, and always took a position 
 between the open door and the patient, and not between the 
 patient and the fire-place.' A nurse cannot keep the door 
 open, but can and should keep the room well aired, protecting 
 her patient from a current of air ; and the nurse should be care- 
 ful and not stand between her patient and the fire " 
 
 "What furniture is best for a sick-room/" asked Mary. 
 
 " Do not have it crowded ; have nothing that will rattle and 
 rustle ; have the curtains of some kind of cloth, not shades ; 
 have as easy a chair as you can for the patient's sitting up, and 
 with this chair a blanket or quilt, which does not belong to 
 Ihe bed- furniture, to wrap over the feet and knees of the invalid 
 while resting in the chair. Have also a footstool or heavy foot- 
 cushion- this can be easily manufactured from a box padded 
 
SICJCNESS m THE HOME. 139 
 
 and covered with carpet ; or two circles of wool patchwork maj 
 be made, united with a strip of cloth six inches wide, and filled 
 with hay or chaff. Do not Jet your sick-room be dull : put a 
 picture or two, and a fancy bracket or something pretty, on the 
 walls ; have within sight of the bed a stand neatly covered, and 
 furnished with a book or two, an ornament, a vase of flowers, or 
 in winter even, of evergreens, hollies, or dried grasses, some- 
 thing graceful and restful to the eye. I believe in flowers in a 
 sick-room, if there are not so many of them as to load the air 
 with their smell, and if at night they are set outside of the window. 
 Let the bed-clothing be warm enough, perfectly clean, and not 
 too heavy : blankets are better than cotton quilts. See that the 
 washstand is provided with water, towels and all things needful, 
 so that there shall be no annoyance of searching for things, 
 flurrying about, and asking ' how,' ' where,' ' what! ' Have a 
 closet-shelf for medicines and all disagreeables of that. kind. If 
 there is no closet in the room, or in any part of the furniture, 
 have a box, neatly covered, nailed against the wall, out of the 
 patient's sight, shade it with a little white curtain, and use it a? 
 a closet for bottles and spoons. Of all things keep the sick- 
 room neat, quiet and cheerful. Even patients who, when well, 
 are careless and noisy, when ill are sensitive to the disturbance 
 of disorder, and are soothed by neatness and calm." 
 
 "I think," said Mary, shutting her eyes, "that I can now see 
 exactly how a comfortable sick-room should look. Now for 
 the nurse." 
 
 "One who is taking care of the sick," I continued, "should 
 cultivate self-possession, calmness, quiet cheerfulness, patience. 
 a gentle, soft voice, a tender hand, and the faculty which many 
 characterize as being ' handy ' — that is, taking the right thing a.t 
 the right time — never dropping or knocking over things ; also 
 a good memory." 
 
 " Who can have so many virtues ! " cried Helen. 
 
140 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Love will unconsciously instil them all ; love, a habit of 
 striving to do well, and a thoughtful watchfulness over self A 
 nurse should be neat in person, clean and plain in dress; she 
 should never wear a dirty gown, nor a gown which rustles, nor 
 a glaring color, while the more attractive she can make her 
 appearance, in the way of simple good taste, the better will she 
 suit the sick-room. She should not be grim and taciturn, neither 
 a gossip and a chatterbox ; she should not admit too many visi- 
 tors ; her authority should be unassuming, and assured. Those 
 who nurse sick children should cultivate the power of telling 
 pleasantly unexciting stories, and should sing softly to the little 
 invalids when they desire it. The nurse should study the duty of 
 'put yourself in his place; ' that is, she should be sympc.tlietic, and 
 readily excuse fretfulness, crossness, fears, and other sick non- 
 sense, because these are a part of sickness, and something which, 
 when ill, she might fall into herself A good nurse must know 
 how to air a room without chilling her patient; she must be 
 skilful to make a bed with the invalid in it, if that invalid cannot 
 be moved ; ingenious in airing bed-clothes thoroughly in a short 
 time, and without exposing them to dampness; thoughtful to 
 screen her sleeping patient's eyes from light : to slielter him also 
 from light while sunning the room ; quick-handed in bathing 
 and combing, and changing a patient's clothes; very careful to 
 avoid using damp bedding, ill-aired towels, or getting garments 
 of the sick one wet while the toilette is proceeding. A nurse 
 should avoid fretting, bringing bad or exciting news into a sick- 
 room, heavy prognostications, or complaining of the physician 
 in charge, and striving to shake the patient's faith in him. A 
 nurse should know how to sweep a sick-room without raising a 
 dust, and to dress a fire without making a noise. A matting in 
 a sick-room can be well, quietly and easily cleaned, by using a 
 broom with a damp cloth pinned over it; coal can be noiselessly 
 put on a fire by having each handful or so of coal.'; tied up 
 
SICJC^TESS IN' THE HOME. X41 
 
 in paper, or put into little paper-bags ; this is a very valuable 
 precaution where an invalid is very low, or exceedingly sensitive 
 to noise." 
 
 "And how shall our nurse treat the patient?" asked Helen. 
 
 " She must be kind, forbearing, firm : not leaving the patients 
 the trouble of doing their own thinking, or feeling the respon- 
 sibility of taking care of themselves. The first thing in the 
 morning the patient has a right to be made comfortable ; the bed 
 must be put in order; what bathing is allowed should be done; 
 the hair smoothed; the room aired. It depends on the patient 
 whether this is done before giving the morning meal, or a little 
 food is given first, then the putting in order done, and then the 
 morning meal. A patient's whims should be studied and grati- 
 fied where they are not harmful ; harmful whims should be 
 pleasantly put aside. To some patients one must administer a 
 little firm reasoning. Medicine should be given neotly and in 
 as palatable a way as possible, and the patient should not be 
 irritated by seeini^^ it standing about. All disagreeables should, 
 as far as possible, be kept out of sight." 
 
 "And what about this medicine-taking, and running after a 
 doctor all the time?" asked Miriam. 
 
 "Generally speaking, there is too much of it. Rules of health 
 
 are neglected, and then a heavy dose of medicine is expected 
 
 to set disorganized nature right. The mother disregards a little 
 
 hoarseness, a complaint of sore throat, a slight chill, a degree 
 
 of feverishness, and a restless night : the warnings which nature 
 
 gives of coming ill. No .change is made in food, no simple 
 
 alterative is given, no foot-bath, no external application of 
 
 simples ; the disease grows worse, then heavy doses are given : 
 
 the doctor is called to rectify somebody's blunders, and thel-e is 
 
 a long case of sickness. A mother's eye should be quick to 
 
 note the varying health-tokens in her family, while she should 
 
 be careful not to be nervous, not to fall into a fright at a child's 
 10 
 
142 rHE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 sneezing, or sudden pain, or slight feverishness. Some doctoi s 
 are called day and night to see families where there is nothing 
 the matter but a child's having too late or too solid a supper, or 
 having been allowed too hard a frolic. Every woman of good 
 judgment and of any degree of observation, with a good physi- 
 cian to fall back upon, one whose style of practice she has care- 
 fully noted, should be able to treat the simple ailments of her, 
 family without fuss, excitement or doctor's help. She should 
 know how to use properly a few simple remedies; she should 
 understand the value of outward applications, of foot-baths, 
 poultices ; the virtues of mustard ; the efficacy of external appli- 
 cations for sore throat; the use of baths, local or general; the 
 preparation of simple gargles, and she should be able, unalarmed, 
 to bring to bear on a case of illness her common-sense, and the 
 result of her past experience and observation. There are many 
 women who have seen so much of sickness, have read so care- 
 fully standard works on nursing and medicine, and have observed 
 so closely the symptoms and developments of ordinary disease, 
 that they very seldom need in their families any skill except 
 their own. And these very skilful persons are, I have observed, 
 those who give the least medicine, and attend most closely to 
 the laws of health, and the work of prevention. I remember 
 years ago I had called at Mrs. Burr's one evening when she 
 was absent. As I sat talking with Mr. Burr, their youngest 
 child woke with an acute attack of croup. 'John,' cried Mr. 
 Burr to the servant, "run for Mrs. Burr and the doctor: but get 
 Mrs. Burr first' • 
 
 "I ventured to say: ' Had you not better call the doctor first? ' 
 " ' No,' said he, ' I shall feel twice as safe with Mrs. Burr in the 
 house. She sends for the doctor now and then, but I pin my 
 faith to her, and she's never failed me.' 
 
 " Sure enough, Mrs. Burr had the child relieved and quite out 
 of danger before the doctor got in. He looked over at her, with 
 a laugh : 
 
SICKNESS IN THE HOME. 143 
 
 "'O, Mrs. Burr! are you home? Why, then, I might as well 
 have finished the nap I was taking.' 
 
 " Once in the winter I spent with Cousin Ann, little Dick came 
 home from school one stormy afternoon, looking very ill ; he 
 wheezed, his face was swollen, he shook as with ague, yet 
 burned with fever ; he had such a pain in his chest that he was 
 crying, and was so hoarse that he could hardly speak : in this 
 state he had walked a mile in the storm, his feet were soaking 
 wet, and his brother Reed said that Dick had been sick all day. 
 Really he looked desperately ill. Cousin Ann bid Reed remove 
 the child's boo*s and outer clothing. She set a tub in front of 
 the kitchen fire, put therein a tablespoonful of soda, and a liberal 
 supply of water as hot as Dick could stand. She stripped the 
 little creature, and gave him a thorough hot bath, put on his 
 woollen night-gown, wrapped him in a blanket, and laid him on 
 the lounge, which I wheeled near the fire. She put a hot water 
 bottle at his feet, laid a plaster of flour and mustard on his 
 breast, and one of the same about his neck, gave him a mild 
 dose of physic, gently combed his hair, and laid a cloth wet in 
 vinegar on his aching head. In twenty minutes from his miser- 
 able and suffering entrance to his home, Dick, feeling perfectly 
 safe now that he was in his mother's hands, was lying warmly 
 wrapped and comfortably pillowed, his whole aching frame 
 feeling the relief of his hot soda bath. Cousin Ann then quietly 
 cleared away the soiled clothes, the tub and towels, sat down by 
 Dick, sewing in hand, and began to sing him a little song. 
 Before long, his breathing grew easier, and he fell into a deep 
 sleep. Cousin Ann and I then lifted the lounge into the next 
 room where it was warm, and he would not be aroused by the 
 supper-getting. Returning then to the kitchen, she took Reed's 
 case in hand : up to this time she had made no remark to him. 
 
 " ' Reed, when your little brother seemed ill, why did you not 
 at once bring him home ? If he seemed too sick to walk the 
 
144 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 mile, why not have borrowed a conveyance at one of the neigb 
 bors ' ? Do you not see how cruel and dangerous it was to let 
 him grow worse, and suffer there all day, and then walk home in 
 this storm ? It might have sacrificed his life ! ' 
 
 " ' Well,' said Reed, ' I did not know that he was so very sick 
 and I did not want to miss my lessons.' 
 
 " ' It is wise to be on the safe side,' said his mother ; ' an 
 ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure ; and our pleasures 
 and preferences should always give way to another's pain. 
 Always remember : never trifle with disease! 
 
 " In less than a week Dick was as well as ever ; but some peo- 
 ple in a fright would have put him to bed, and have allowed him 
 to get worse for two hours, while they were sending into town 
 for a doctor, instead of using the simple. Common-sense remedies 
 at hand." 
 
 By this tiipe in our talk we had reached the tea hour. After 
 tea we had a little discussion about the food for sick people. 
 The substance of our conclusions was as follows : An invalid's 
 food should be prepared and presented with the utmost neatness. 
 A sick person is more fastidious than a well person ; he eats 
 with his eyes as much as with his mouth ; he will take his gruel 
 out of a china bowl, when he would reject it slovenly presented 
 in a tin-cup. Do not present a patient too much food at once ; 
 a large quantity will disgust, where a small amount will tempi 
 a sickly taste. Let the food be presented attractively, spread a 
 clean napkin on the tray, and use as nice and as small dishes as 
 you can, and add, if possible, a spray of flowers ; the capricious 
 invalid, needing food, yet indifferent to it, will eat what is thus 
 brought, " because it looks so pretty." If the case is in charge 
 of a physician, carefully follow his orders in regard to food ; if 
 you are both nurse and doctor, use your common-sense, and 
 give food light and easy of digestion, palatable and varied in 
 quantity and quality as convalescence progresses. Every woman 
 
S/C^JV£SS IN THE HOME. 145 
 
 should know how to prepare gruel, beef-tea, mutton-broth, toast, 
 toast-water, panada, chicken-soup, a bit of broiled fowl or steak, 
 and the various other dainties and necessities of the sick-room. 
 When you poach an egg for your invalid do it nicely ; do not 
 make it hard as a bullet, with edges ragged and streaming, but 
 turn the white skilfully over the yolk until it is a smooth 
 oblong, lightly cooked; lift it carefully with your skimmer 
 until it is well drained ; sprinkle on the centre a little salt and 
 pepper ; lay it on four or five green leaves, parsley, if you have 
 them — if not, on two or three celery or carrot leaves ; have ready 
 a diamond-shaped piece of toast, of an even brown, and carry 
 up both hot on a white-covered tray : if you have a spray of 
 honey-suckle, a rose or a cluster of violets to lay between your 
 two dishes, so much the better. 
 
 When you bake an apple for an invalid, don't have it burnt 
 on one side and burst open on the other; prick the skin and 
 bake it thoroughly and evenly. Don't send your patient back the 
 same bit of butter with, perhaps, a knife-mark on it, or the same 
 spoonful of jelly in a smeared dish : a few dishes more or less 
 to wash are nothing compared to the invalid's comfort. When 
 you hear of a nice rice, sago or tapioca pudding for an invalid, 
 write the recipe in some little note-book dedicated to cookery for ' 
 the sick, and then using such a book you will be able to keep up s, 
 variety in cooking for your patient, and sick people need variety 
 more than well people. Don't keep an invalid waiting long fot 
 a meal, until they are tired, cross, and past their appetite. 
 Don't bring up the tea or coffee and forget the sugar, or furnish 
 the pudding and then go to hunt a spoon, and so have the 
 dish lukewarm when eaten. Consult your patient's tastes, and 
 don't forget to season nicely when you cook. Be so neat that 
 the wary patient will have no suspicions of your cookery. 
 
 " Once when I was ill," said Helen, " nothing would tempt me 
 to eat. The doctor was quite worried about it ; but eat I could 
 
146 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 not, no matter what was presented. One afternoon Hannah 
 brought up ' a present from Mrs. Winton.' The present was m 
 a napkin of rose-colored damask ; I unpinned the • corners, and 
 there was a little fancy basket, and in the basket a French china 
 bowl, with something in it snow-white with little flecks of 
 green, and in the middle of this ' something ' a tiny bouquet 
 stood up, made of a pale blue hyacinth and a tea-rose ; across 
 the bowl lay a silver fork, so all was ready for me to taste the 
 ' something.' The lovely pink damask, the dainty basket, the 
 fragrant flowers, beguiled me to taste what was in the bowl : it was 
 a delicious salad. After one taste I told Hannah to bring me a 
 slice of bread, and I made my supper at once of the bread and 
 ~.alad ; my appetite was restored from that time." 
 
 "We must have the recipe for that famous salad," cried 
 Miriam, " and put it in our Sick Cookery Books." 
 
 "It is as good for well folks as for the sick," said Helen; 
 "and you may copy the recipe for that and two other salads out 
 )f my Household Book whenever you choose." 
 
 The young people all agreed that they had learned a good 
 deal about sick-nursing, and had had a very pleasant visit. 
 
 As I found that the recipes, to which Helen referred, would 
 suggest a fine addition to a tea-table, or to a convalescent's bill 
 of fare, I shall add them to this discussion of nursing. 
 
 Salad Dressing. — Boil an &^^ very hard. Mash the yolk and 
 chop fine the white. Put in a bowl the mashed yolk, one teaspoon 
 white sugar, one-half teaspoon salt, one teaspoon mustard, one 
 tablespoon olive oil, two or three tablespoons vinegar, according 
 to size of salad; mix well. Stir this dressing well through the 
 salad ; pile the salad in a mound on a platter ; put the chopped 
 egg-white over the top; set a wreath of celery leaves around 
 the edge of the dish ; make a small bouquet of any flowers or 
 green things for the centre. For a tea-party in spring, a heavy 
 fiolet wreath for the edge and a violet cluster in the centre is 
 
' S/C/CNESS IN THE HOME. 147 
 
 an improvement ; in the fall, little plum tomatoes cut in halves 
 and laid on the leaves at the edge is a fine addition to the dish. 
 
 The Salad. — Peel or scrape six large Irish potatoes. Soak 
 in salt water for an hour or so ; boil until barely done ; let them 
 get cold. Chop these potatoes fine; chop several stems of 
 celery; a little parsley; a circle of onion and a circle of pepper- 
 pod may be added if desired ; with or without the celery, bleached 
 turnip-tops chopped fine; mix the potatoes and chopped salad, 
 also half a small head of fine-chopped lettuce ; stir well into 
 this the above dressing, and serve as directed. The chopped 
 potatoes alone thus dressed make a good salad, when other 
 materials are not procurable ; or use one-half chopped potatoes 
 and one-half chopped roast beef 
 
 A Meat Salad. — Chop beef or mutton very fine. Mix with 
 above salad dressing. Cut and butter thin rounds of bread ; 
 spread evenly on these the dressed meat; lay on each a thin 
 round of lemon, and a leaf of parsley under the edge of the slice 
 of lemon. Put these meat slices on a platter, and lay a small 
 bouquet in the centre — a delightful and beautiful tea-dish. 
 
 In cooking for the sick take particular care not to scorch or 
 smoke the food ; avoid all greasiness, and never fry an invalid's 
 food. Meat for a sick person should be broiled or steamed. 
 We hear many complaints of tough meat, but there is scarcely 
 any beef-roast so obdurate as not to prove tender, and well 
 flavored, if roasted as follows : 
 
 Take a stone pot, a round pot of the same size in its whole 
 height, and without a neck, the top being entirely open: it must 
 be low enough to stand in the oven. Rinse the meat, remove 
 any very large bones, and gash a little with a sharp knife ; put 
 the meat into the pot — if closely crowded, it is all the better ; 
 sprinkle it well with salt, pepper, and a little ground cloves ; 
 pour over it a cup of catsup, tomato catsup being the best; put 
 on a close lid; if the pot has no lid, lay a pie-plate upon it. 
 
148 "^f^E COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 and put a brick on the plate to hold it down firmly. Allow no 
 water in the pot, and no escape of steam while the roasting pro- 
 gresses. Have an oven as for bread, and roast four or five 
 hours, according to the size of the piece of meat. Meat thus 
 cooked will be exceedingly tender and juicy: none of its flavor 
 will have escaped, and it is equally good used hot or cold, while 
 for making sandwiches it is unrivalled. That it may be of a 
 handsome shape when served, it is well, before putting it in the 
 pot to roast, to coil it into a round, and tie it with a piece of 
 tape. 
 
 I wrote these recipes in Miriam's Household Book ; as I was 
 returning it to its shelf, a bit of paper fell out. It was written 
 by her doctor, and Miriam said she had forgotten to copy it, 
 and must do so at once. As she was nursing one of her chil- 
 dren, I copied it for her. The paper was upon that great trial 
 of many : Sleeplessness. Thus : If you are troubled by Sleepless- 
 ness, do not set yourself to counting, composing, or reciting ; as 
 a general thing, this will excite the brain to an activity which 
 will defy sleep; to attain sleep, the mind should be restful. The 
 cause of Sleeplessness is usually an excited state of the nerves ; 
 a simple method of calming these is to bathe the head, neck 
 and arms in cold water, and rub briskly with a towel, imme- 
 diately before retiring ; this secures action to the skin, and aids 
 materially in producing a calm, sleepy feeling. ' Nervous excite- 
 ment, producing wakefulness, is often a product of indigestion; 
 a remedy for this is: wring out a towel from cold water, fold it, 
 lay it upon the stomach, and fold a dry towel, or a large piece of 
 flannel, over it, cross the arms lightly over it, and soon a delight- 
 ful warmth and glow will send you off to sleep. Another method 
 of persuading rest when wakeful is: to rise, rub the arms, chest 
 and feet briskly with a coarse towel or a flesh-brush ; a more 
 effectual fashion, especially on warm nights, would be to bathe 
 the arms and soak the wrists in cold water. A small towel, oi 
 
SICKNESS IN THE HOME. 149 
 
 a handkerchief, may be wrung out of cold water, and wrapped 
 on the left wrist, and covered with a dry towel : the fast and 
 feverish pulse soon calms, and sleep succeeds. 
 
 These are all simple, easy suggestions, and I made a note of 
 them for my own use ; although having a well-aired room, no 
 light, a mattress and not feathers to sleep on, keeping regular 
 hours, taking sufficient exercise, and eating a light supper, I am 
 not often troubled by wakefulness. A habit of wakefulness is 
 very disastrous, and we should use every effort to guard against 
 it ; if we find ourselves wakeful at night, we should seek after 
 the cause, ^id strive to avoid repeating it, not only for comfort's 
 sake, but ici the sake of the sour.ai.^ss of our minds, the vigoi 
 of our bodies, and the efficiency of oiir work during the day, 
 Sleep is one of the good gifts of God : 
 
 " So he giveth his beloved «leep. 
 So he giveth his beloved m deep. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 tpie beauty of the home. 
 
 Aunt sophronia tells how to make home attractive. 
 
 REMEMBER telling my niece Miriam before her mar- 
 riage, that good housekeeping builds up the walls of 
 Home. In the building of houses I have observed that 
 once the walls are up, some sort of finish is put upon 
 them : they are painted, papered, calcimined or white-washed. 
 Then, in furnishing a house, people generally place pictures, 
 ornaments or brackets upon the walls. So I think that if good 
 housekeeping builds up the walls of Home, good taste, a thing 
 closely allied to good housekeeping, gives them the finishing 
 touch and makes the Home beautiful. In my opinion the Beauty 
 Df the Home is a very important matter. There are a few 
 people who pass it by as " nonsense," say they " have no time 
 for it," and that they must " spend their efforts on what has a 
 cash value ; " being narrow-minded, or near-sighted, they do not 
 perceive that Beauty in a home has a very decided cash value. 
 I say this, first, because if we cultivate Beauty in the Home, we 
 produce there greater care and better and more cheerful spirits, 
 consequently better health, and therefore less outlay for sick- 
 oess, besides having more effective working-force. Again, a 
 Home, in village or country, where Beauty is created, possesses 
 a higher market value. A Home where an outlay of care, a 
 little labor and forethought has created beauty in the shape of 
 smooth hard walks, neat sodding near the house, a flower 
 
 garden, shade trees, rows of fruit trees, grapes, flowering 
 C150) 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. \f^\ 
 
 cines, a post or two draped in roses and honeysuckles, with a 
 bird-house a-top, a little arbor or summer house — these things, 
 created in summer evenings after working hours, in winter 
 leisure time, in early mornings, noon-rests, or on holidays, lend 
 an air of refinement to the whok establishment, directly and 
 indirectly tend toward the good order of the whole, give it a 
 higher market value and would secure a purchaser more quickly 
 if it were for sale. In another regard the culture of Beauty in a 
 Home is of immense value. A growing family will be much 
 more likely to remain cheerfully in a Beautiful Home, even if 
 that beauty is extremely simple and inexpensive. A family 
 who are home-keepers are an inexpensive family. Sons and 
 daughters do not waste their money at home : they are tempted 
 into rash outlays when they are in the company of strangers, 
 hanging about public places and striving to vie with those who 
 have either no need of saving, or no honest desire to do so. 
 
 I hear so much complaint that farmers' sons and daughters 
 do not want to stay at home — they " hate the farm " — want 
 other business ; the girls had rather be mantua-makers or store- 
 clerks, than be at home helping their mothers, making butter, 
 and raising fruits and vegetables ; the sons want to try their 
 fortunes in the city ; the parents find themselves, when their 
 children are old enough to be efficient help, left to hired ser- 
 vants, who have little care to aid them in making and saving 
 money, who are no company indoors, and, meanwhile, the 
 parental heart is burdened with fears and anxieties for the absent 
 children, and possibly the parental purse is burdened with their 
 business failures. 
 
 I was at tea at Mrs. Winton's the other day, with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Burr and some others, and Mr. Winton said: 
 
 "We shall have constantly recurring 'panics' and 'crashes' 
 and 'hard times' until our people learn that the tilling of the 
 soil is the true source of wealth ; that golden corn above the 
 
152 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ground is really of more value to the country than the gold in 
 the earth ; that the soil of our country has abundance for all hei 
 children ; it is a mother who never for bread offers a stone. 
 When the immigrants who come to us shall be agriculturists; 
 when our emigrants and our nvaving Eastern population seek the 
 West for farms, and not for gold or silver claims ; when instead of 
 our rural population crowding to the cities in a mad zeal for spec- 
 ulation and hasty fortunes, which, in ninety-nine cases out of an 
 hundred, are fortunes as quickly lost as made ; when every acre 
 of land in our farming districts is made to produce to its fullest 
 capacity, and not left lying in marsh, or barren, or scrub for 
 years, tlien we shall be a solidly wealthy people — these great 
 financial convulsions and crises which have kept. us in a state of 
 fever and excitement will be unknown." 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said Mr. Burr, " our farming and arable lands 
 are capable of producing a far greater amount than they do at 
 present ; diligent cultivation, rotation of crops, and care not to 
 exhaust the land for the sake of a hasty cash return, would bring 
 our crops up to a value thus far quite unknown in this country. 
 Consider what a population the small country of Palestine once 
 supported : over nine millions of people in an extent of less than 
 ten thousand square miles — that is, about the size of the State 
 of New Hampshire. Egypt was the grain-house of the world, 
 besides supporting over twenty thousand towns and villages, ten 
 very great cities, of which one was twenty r. .iles in circumfer- 
 ence. The valley of the Euphrates around Babylon formerly 
 produced two hundred-fold for seed sown. I believe if land is 
 well tilled and cropped according to its nature, there is abso- 
 lutely no limit to its power of production. If the population, 
 which is now swarming in our cities and towns, fretting in 
 poverty and idleness, nursing communism and breeding disease, 
 would pour out as workers inl o the country, filling it so that 
 swamps must be drained, and d.y wastes irrigated, and hills ter 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. J 53 
 
 raced for grapes, and that barrens must be cleared offj in behalf 
 of crops of corn, melons and sweet-potatoes, and the woods 
 imcst be cleared of underbrush, and set to growing large timber — 
 then we should find a reign of plenty, and all our present 
 beggars might be on horseback, at least while they were tilling 
 their fields and driving their market-wagons." 
 
 " Instead of that rush to the country," said I, " the rush is 
 away from it ; the young folks think they must go to town as 
 soon as they are grown. Every one wonders why and how 
 Cousin Ann's three boys have stayed on farms." 
 
 " I think," said Mrs. Burr, " that one reason of that restless 
 haste to leave the farm is owing to a neglect of making the farm 
 and the farm-house attractive. So many of these homesteads 
 have" a lonely, desolate look. No trees, no flowers, a neglect of a 
 little ingenuity in making a pretty porch and fence for the house- 
 front, an over-carefulness which refuses to open the front rooms 
 for the use of the family, a neglect of making the bed-rooms 
 neat and pretty — things get a sameness and shabbiness, and 
 young eyes pine for something more attractive." 
 
 " There is that same error, as far as I can see, in villages and 
 towns and cities," said Mrs. Winton. "A great many people 
 pile all the agreeable things which they have into one or two 
 rooms, which they keep shut up for apocryphal visitors. The 
 family sitting-room and the bed-rooms are bare and forbidding." 
 
 "And then," replied Mrs. Burr, " the young folks go to visit 
 their neighbors, or out into the streets, and look at the store- 
 windows, and so try to compensate themselves ; whether they 
 know what they want or not, all youth craves beauty : it is a 
 natural desire." 
 
 " But what a pity," I said, " that young folks should not find 
 what they crave in the safety of their own homes ! What an 
 anchorage for good faith and virtue is the love of an honest, 
 pure home ! What a stay to a child in all his life, the memory 
 
164 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 of a home beautiful, upright and loving ! and by beautiful I do 
 not mean the beauty which is created by money, in velvet 
 carpets, rosewood furniture, fine ornaments and pictures. Those 
 are all very well when they fall to our lot, but the beauty which 
 I mean can be created anywhere, and out of almost anything, 
 by simple good taste. I think that care to make the Home 
 attractive is the secret of the farming tastes of Cousin Ann's 
 boys. And what a comfort those tastes have been to their 
 parents! Reed and Fred are on farms beside their father's, 
 Dick is with his father, and little Jack is not likely to wish to go 
 away. What anxieties have they all been spared, what tempta- 
 tions, what losses, by these home tastes ! " 
 
 "I was a little boy," said Mr. Burr, "when Reuben and Cousin 
 Ann, as young married people, moved to that farm. I used to 
 think it was the barest-looking place on earth. An old broken- 
 down fence, no paths, no porch, no shade, no garden ; there was 
 the land, the barns and sheds, a straight wooden house, and some 
 field fences. They moved there in the fall. Cousin Reuben, 
 as we all call him now, spent a good deal of that winter in his 
 wood-lot, cutting and hauling wood, for himself and for sale, and 
 on top of his loads we schoolboys saw him bringing home all 
 manner of queer-looking and shaped sticks. The old yard 
 fence was turned into kindling wood. I remember how that 
 place changed, not by money outlay, for they had a mortgage to 
 pay off, but by constant industry and good sense. Cousin Reuben 
 and Ann worked away at that front yard, and around the house, 
 every summer evening for years. Those queer sticks grew in 
 two years into a handsome rustic fence. Reuben built with his 
 own hands a porch, an arbor for grape vines, and a summer 
 house ; in the winter evenings he made bird-houses, and poles 
 for creepers ; Cousin Ann got slips, cuttings and seeds ; to give 
 her a bit of good shrubbery was to give her a treasure, and 
 Reuben carried from the field and wood promising young shade 
 and ornamental trees. Look what a place they have now ! " 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. 155 
 
 "Yes, I remember. Cousin Ann told me she meant her 
 children should not grow up in such a desolate place as that 
 was when she found it ; and she thought they would love and 
 value it more, if tliey helped to create beauty there. She had 
 them from their earliest childhood learn to help keep the place 
 neat, and make improvements in it. They helped her in the 
 vegetable garden ; they planted and weeded flower borders ; no 
 old barrel-hoops rotted on the ground there : they were used for 
 fences to the garden bed, and for frames for vines. The boys made 
 rustic seats, they learned to turn common things to use, they 
 made brackets and picture-frames. Every one helped to make 
 every one's room pretty, and no part of the house was too good 
 for the family. The parents took a pride in making the house 
 nice, and the children learned an equal pride in keeping it nice. 
 I never saw such children to avoid making a litter, and such 
 care in preserving furniture. They liked to sit in the best room 
 when there was no company; they enjoyed it for themselves; and, 
 boys and girls, they would set to work just before going to bed, 
 or very early in the morning, and sweep, dust and polish it up, 
 so that the use of it should not increase their mother's work. 
 Why if those boys undertook to go far from home, they would 
 be going from a place which they had made, froni what was a 
 pleasant share and part of their own life-work. They learned 
 carpentry on rainy days, out in the barn, making stools and 
 stands, shelves and shutters for their rooms." 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Winton, "the whole county knows that they 
 are a wonderful set of boys." 
 
 "They had a wonderful mother, to begin with," said Mrs. 
 Burr. "And every mother may be just as wonderful, who sets 
 her common-sense and energy to work for her family — who 
 trains her children's activity to constructiveness and usefulness, 
 instead of to riot and mischief What boy will not prize the 
 home which he helped make, which was free to him in all its 
 
156 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 best things, which gave him his interests and occupied his 
 thoughts ? What boy won't take a pride in making things, when 
 even his first exploit in making a stool — a stool a little shaky in 
 the legs, and a little uneven in height — is cordially received 
 with — ' That is very nice. I have some cloth which will make it 
 a splendid cover ; I think I would cut that leg about half an 
 inch shorter, and you had better put a nail in here, and one here. 
 Then this evening we will cover it in red and black, and you 
 can have it in your own room.' " 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Burr; "the value of that home, of its attrac- 
 tiveness and beauty, has been unspeakable to those boys, but it 
 has also brought its cash return. Even a hired hand could not 
 be careless in a place so beautifully kept, so cheerful, so pretty 
 as that was. The beauty of the house, like the gleam of a lamp^ 
 widened out over the whole farm. Where are fences straighter, 
 walls truer, fields smoother, clumps of trees and single fine trees 
 left to better advantage? .Where is every bit of rubbish so 
 gathered up and put to use ? What increased value per acre has 
 not that farm gained from the beautiful hedges near the front — 
 hedges planted and trimmed by the boys — from the choice 
 shrubbery, from the grapes and small fruits, from the shade 
 before the house, the porches and arbors, the fine flowers, and 
 that unsurpassed vegetable garden? If Cousin Reuben hinted 
 at selling he'd get a dozen high offers. But he knows too much 
 to put that place in market; he will keep it to make Dick and 
 Jack rich." 
 
 It is now two years since Hester married. As she said she 
 should do, she chose a scholar, a scientific man, often off on long 
 tours in government service. Hester usually goes with him. 
 They live at John Rocheford's, and John is perfectly satisfied. 
 Hester keeps the house. The phrases "wax-work" and "clock- 
 work," as applied to the niceness and the running order of that 
 house, do not in my view express its perfection; somehow she 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. I57 
 
 seems to manage the place even when she is gone. I was sitting 
 with Hester for an hour the very day after this visit at Mrs. 
 Winton's, and I happened to tell her of our conversation about 
 Beauty in a Home. 
 
 " What you say about good taste creating beauty from small 
 resources," said Hester, "is quite true. I remember a case in 
 point. There was at school with me a young girl whose room 
 was one of the most beautifully arranged in the building, though, 
 as she was poor, she had no money to spend on it, and no orna- 
 ments which cost money. A pot of growing ferns, a wreath of 
 pressed fall leaves, a basket made of pin:; cones, a bracket curi- 
 ously fashioned of lichen-covered sticks, a bouquet of dried 
 grasses, burrs and seed pods of autumn flowers, lent a charm to 
 the little plain room. Beauty seemed to grow under her fingers; 
 she had such perfect order, such neatness, so many useful con- 
 trivances, that her room served as a model for all the rest. She 
 married a home missionary. I was at her simple wedding, and 
 helped her pack her trunks. She had very little to take with 
 her for the furnishing of her home, .yet I felt certain it would be 
 beautiful. I remember that she had in one of her boxes a large 
 bundle of fragments of cloth and worsted stuffs, and that she, 
 rather to my surprise, purchased at an auction some remnants 
 of paper cambric, chintz and coarse Swiss muslin; they were 
 very cheap, but I wondered why she chose them. Last summer, 
 when I went with my husband to the Rocky Mountains, we 
 passed within ten miles of my friend's Western home, and I took 
 a day to drive over to see her, being also the bearer of some 
 gifts from her schoolmates. The house was an unpainted wooden 
 building, and only one floor had a carpet; but, as I expected, 
 the little place breathed good taste, and was beautiful. She had 
 trained vines over doorway and windows: the chintz whicn I 
 had despised made ruffled lambrequins for the windows, She 
 
 laughingly said she had furnished her house with dry goods 
 11 
 
158 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 boxes. Sure enough, two such boxes covered with chintz made 
 a pair of pretty divans; the bed-rooms had dainty toilette tables 
 made of other dry goods boxes, draped in the Swiss muslin over 
 the colored cambric. The bundle of woollen fragments had 
 turned into mats and footstool covers ; she had converted a bar- 
 rel into a sewing-chair, and another into a work-table. In truth, 
 the little four-roomed house was the tasteful home of a lady, and 
 the little shed kitchen in the rear was so clean, so handily 
 arranged, that she need never blush to invite any one into it. I 
 never realized so completely the creative power of good taste. 
 Her husband had put a pine board for a mantel in their sitting- 
 room, but she had hidden this and a bracket to match with a 
 cover of oriental work, which was really elegant, and on these 
 she had placed the vases and other souvenirs which her school- 
 mates gave her at parting, and with the fresh wild flowers in the 
 vases, they lent the room the charm of elegance. I well knew 
 where she got time for fitting up things : she is one of those who 
 rest by change of work, and who save the moments that other 
 people waste." , 
 
 This subject of Beauty in the Home became a favorite theme of 
 mine, and it happened that we had it pretty thoroughly discussed 
 once, when Helen, Miriam, Cousin Ann, her daughter Sarah, 
 and myself, were invited to take tea with Hester. It was ip the 
 autumn, and Hester had spent the preceding day with Cousin 
 Ann, and with Sarah had been searching " winter ornaments." 
 
 "Did you get holly, juniper and bryony-vine ? " asked Miriam. 
 
 " No," said Sarah: " we always leave those for Christmas, but 
 we got grasses of various kinds, and silk-weed pods, and sticks 
 covered with lichens, and branches of pine-cones ; if one has a 
 ' quick eye in selecting, you can gather in fall fadeless winter 
 bouquets which are as beautiful as summer bouquets. I got a 
 large round of thick green moss, and some squawberry-vines 
 mingled with it, and a delicate little fern to plant right in the 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. 159 
 
 centre; with a pine-burr and a couple of striped snail-shells 
 it has made a lovely ornament for the middle of our dining- 
 table." 
 
 " For my part," said Cousin Ann, " my meals always taste 
 better for a bouquet, or a moss-plate, or a pot of fern- in the 
 middle of the table. In summer we use fresh flowers. It does 
 not take long to gather a few and put them in a little vase or 
 glass, and it cheers the whole family up to see them. The men 
 come in hot and tired, and the very look of a pretty table com- 
 forts them; father and the boys often say just to see the pot of 
 flowers and the shining white cloth is better than a meal in some 
 houses." 
 
 " Reed's wife," said Sarah, " got that idea from mother, and 
 she has made a pretty centre-piece for her table — just a common 
 red earthen flower-pot, a five-cent one, with a thrifty fern in it, 
 and a round of moss filling the top of the pot around the fern 
 stem ; then on each side of the pot she put a picture, and the pot 
 stands in a saucer, so that it will not soil the table ; the pictures 
 on the pot were two pretty ones from a fruit-can, and when 
 they were varnished, you have no idea how nicely the thing 
 looked." 
 
 " I tried a bouquet for my tea-table, but it got upset so often, 
 between the children and the servants, that I gave it up," 
 remarked Helen. 
 
 "Manage it as I do, then, Helen," said Hester; "our gas- 
 fixture is just over the centre of the table, and I made a net of 
 crystal beads; the net just held a goblet which had been broken 
 from the stem ; that goblet I fill with water and keep my flowers 
 and vines in that. They set off" the table as well as if they stood 
 on it." 
 
 "I'm glad you mentioned that," said Mary Watkins, "for 
 though we have no gas we have a hanging light ; my husband 
 put a hook in the ceiling and hung a lamp by little chains, for 
 
160 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 fear Nettie might pull a table lamp over. I shall tie a little 
 willow basket with a dish in it to that, and have a vine in it ; I 
 have wanted something of the kind, only I could not keep it out 
 of Nettie's reach. I do love to see a nice, tasteful table for 
 meals." 
 
 "Well," said Cousin Ann, "if you'll take care to have a clean, 
 well-ironed cloth, and a bit of something bright for a centre- 
 piece, and lay the dishes neatly, and have the forks and knives 
 bright, you will find that such a table is a great sweetener of the 
 family temper; it makes a very homely meal seem like a feast, 
 and children can hardly show ill manners before what is so 
 refining. Don't forget: these little things tell on the children." 
 
 "The table-cloths are a deal of trouble," said Mary: "they 
 get rumpled so very soon." 
 
 " It pays in washing and ironing, in soap and time, to put a 
 little starch in them," said Cousin Ann; "iron them in small 
 folds, and press them hard; turn the folds back and forth like 
 the leaves of a book, not over and over, like wrapping a bundle. 
 As soon as the cloth is shaken, or brushed off with a clean wing 
 or a table-brush, fold it in the original folds, lay it in a drawer, 
 or keep a pasteboard box of the right size for the cloth alone, 
 and on top of the cloth lay a stone of exactly the same size, 
 or a slab of marble ; if you can't get either, have a little board 
 with a brick on it ; there's always some way to get along if one 
 is bent on getting along. Take first-rate care of the table-cloth , 
 a tidy cloth is half the meal, to my mind." 
 
 "And there's the little matter of trimming dishes," said 
 Miriam ; " some plain dish, or something cooked over, looks and 
 tastes so nicely with a little trimming. I never saw such a per- 
 son as Mrs. Winton for that. If she boils a ham or a leg of 
 mutton, she trims the bone end with a ruffle of white paper cut 
 in narrow strips and curled on the scissors; the pepper is put on 
 io round spots, and either cloves or parsley-leaves are stuck in 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. IgJ 
 
 here and there ; the thing becomes beautiful. She has a plate 
 of cold sliced meat, and around the edge of the dish is a wreath 
 of parsley or celery-leaves, and a few slices of lemon are laid on 
 the me^t Does she have a dish of stewed meat, a wall of 
 mashed-potato surrounds the platter, the stew goes inside, and 
 the whole is trimmed with diamond-shaped bits of carrot and 
 beet; if she has for dinner a plate of codfish and potatoes 
 mashed together, they are piled in a mound, furrowed, and 
 garnished with green leaves and slices of hard-boiled egg. 
 Hard-boiled eggs get to her table in a bed of green leaves ; 
 and a plate of sandwiches is topped with a bouquet; she makes 
 beauty and poetry out of everything." 
 
 " Yes," remarked Cousin Ann, " there is no truer economy 
 than a little good taste ; you can afford to economize if you can 
 make your cooked-over dishes look handsomer than most 
 people's first-hand dishes." 
 
 " Some people think," I suggested, " that they cannot set a 
 handsome table unless they are rich enough for French china^ 
 plenty of silver and the finest damask, but some of the best-look ■ 
 ing tables I ever sat it, cost very little money. I'd know our 
 minister's table anywhere I saw it, by some pretty little napkins 
 his wife has ; they are laid over the bread, over the cake, over a 
 plate of sandwiches or buns, and they are the daintiest little 
 things! She cuts a yard of bird's-eye linen into eight even 
 pieces, fringes out each piece half an inch deep, overstitches 
 evenly with red working-cotton to keep it from ravelling further, 
 and then coral -stitches a border, or works a sheaf of wheat, or 
 her own initial in the centre with red cotton : she says they last 
 for years, and they set off her table wonderfully. She is fond of 
 a centre-piece for her table, and she has a dwarf fern growing in 
 a large conch shell : it is a very charming thing." 
 
 "All the ornamenting that I have tried," said Mary, " is to 
 have parlor-ivy and some other little vines growing in bottles of 
 
162 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 water behind my glasses and pictures, and they succeed very 
 well : I must accomplish something further." 
 
 " Many people," I remarked, " seem to think that we can secure 
 beauty only by profuse money outlay — that beauty is in the ratio 
 of expense. On the contrary, beauty is largely independent of 
 expense. The least handsome parlor that I ever saw was a very 
 expensive one — not a book or engraving to be seen. Staring, 
 ill-painted family portraits, which had cost a good price, deformed 
 the walls. It was early summer, and the garden had plenty of 
 flowers, but not one was in the parlor ; instead, silver vases of 
 wax monstrosities and porcelain baskets of wax fruit ; a gaudy 
 assertion of superabundant dollars and deficient good taste was 
 the characteristic of the room. Natural objects confer more 
 beauty on a room than artificial ones : shells, flowers, vines are 
 far superior for ornament to china figures and card-board 
 work ; indeed, I consider work on card-board the least beautiful 
 of any kind of ornament, and I would it were banished, for it 
 consumes much time, and is very dangerous to the eyesight. 
 If one knows how to blend and contrast colors, has the good 
 taste not to banish books from a room, can train a vine of ivy, 
 make a moss plate, and pile up artistically a handful of shells, or 
 make a rose-lipped conch the receptacle of a cluster of prim- 
 roses, violets or hyacinths, they will have beauty in their rooms." 
 
 " I am glad," said Mary, " that to procure beauty I am not 
 to be obliged to make much fancy work, for with my house- 
 work and sewing, I have little time, and my eyes are not very 
 strong." 
 
 " We seem," said Hester, " to be talking about beauty, and 
 not about eyes ; but what advantage is beauty unless we have 
 eyes? So perhaps I shall not interrupt our discourse, if I sug- 
 gest to Mary how to care for her eyes. First, don't read or 
 work lying dozvn: it strains the eyes by using them at an unnat- 
 ural angle ; don't use them on print or work so fine as to make 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. jga 
 
 rhem feel strained in the use. When they burn, smart or seem 
 dim, rest them, if it is only for five minutes, by looking at other 
 things or closing them, and by bathing them in cold water. 
 Always bathe them freely in cold water, never in hot or warm 
 water ; don't sleep, sit or work with the light falling full on your 
 eyes: let it fall over your shoulder upon the book or work; 
 have your sleeping-room dark, no lamp-light; and grand final 
 instruction, just before going to bed, bathe your eyes, behind 
 your ears, the back of your neck and the top of your head, with 
 cold water, plentifully, and do the same the first thing in the 
 morning ; thus you reach and strengthen the nerves communi- 
 cating with the eye, and you will be almost sure, by observing 
 these rules, to preserve your eyesight, and to strengthen it if it 
 is feeble." 
 
 "I have heard," said Helen, "that it is very good to bathe 
 the eyes in cold tea." 
 
 " If you use black tea, then, as you are sure there is no 
 poisonous color in it, if you use it cold, the tea being cold and 
 a gentle astringent may be beneficial; but I never like to try 
 on my eyes anything but cold water, and plenty of it." 
 
 " The cold water bathing night and morning," I said, " if 
 accompanied by a "hearty rubbing with a coarse towel, is not 
 only good for the eyes, but is almost a sure preventive of colds 
 in the head, influenza and catarrh. A person who uses thus 
 water, of the temperature of the air, summer and winter, is little 
 likely to take cold. I have even recommended this remedy to 
 those who seemed suffering with a chronic cold, or a close 
 succession of bad colds, and they found the cold cured and no 
 others followed it. The heads and throats of children should 
 be thus bathed, and well rubbed, night and morning, to prevent 
 sore throat, croup and kindred troubles. Nothing is more 
 ineffectual for these disorders than housing up children. Let 
 them be used to cold water, well wrapped, and then let them 
 run." 
 
164 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 At the tea-table we resumed our conversation on Beauty in 
 the Home : a theme from which we had drifted to questions of 
 health. Hester made some remarks which I hked very much. 
 She said: 
 
 " The pursuit of Beauty is not to be esteemed a whim belong- 
 ing to a delicate rather than a strong brain. It is not a conde 
 scension of the intellect, not the by-play of vigor, not a trifle or. 
 the surface of things — it is in man's mind a reflection cast by 
 the mind of the Creator, who made man in his own image. 
 Hugh Miller, in his ' Schools and Schoolmasters,' suggests that 
 wherever man pursues either utility or beauty, he takes a path 
 where God has gone before him; and even in so small a matter 
 as painting the panels of a coach, he will find that he has 
 followed ' nature's geometric signs,' and combined the hues and> 
 contrasted the' colors, as God, in bird, or flower, or insect, 
 painted them long before." 
 
 We all concluded that we could not do better than follow in 
 the footsteps of such lofty authority, and cultivate Beauty as 
 heartily as possible. 
 
 In considering the subject of Beauty in the Home, several 
 points have struck me. First, there can be no real beauty with- 
 out neatness and order. A stand of plants in fine bloom may 
 be an object of beauty in a room, but it cannot create beauty 
 over a dirty or ragged carpet. Good engravings are also con- 
 ducive to beauty ; but if the husband hangs good pictures on 
 the walls, and the wife litters the whole room with the threads 
 and scraps from her sev/ing machine, the pleasing is lost to the 
 eye in the unpleasing. Parents should make their children full 
 sharers in the best things of Home ; but at the same time the 
 children should be taught to prize and maintain the beauty of 
 their home. Their sports and manufactures, which are rough, 
 noisy and productive of dirt, should be kept in some place 
 apart, and they should be encouraged to bring their book.', theii 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. jgS 
 
 clean, quiet games, their drawing, where their parents and elder 
 friends are; thus family companionship will be secured, without 
 provoking that untidiness which is incompatible with beauty. 
 
 Second. I should say that true beauty does not belong to 
 things showy and insubstantial. Some people get cheap, showy 
 furniture and carpets, thinking that as it is cheap they can 
 afford more of it; while the truth is that the more of it the 
 ivorse it looks, and that a few good things are far better than a 
 good many poor ones. When we must get cheap things 
 because we have but little money, then let them be very plain : 
 for nothing is uglier than cheap gilding. If we have plain 
 things which do not cost much, then the value has been put 
 into the material and making, and they are likely to last a long 
 time without failing in appearance ; while if the things are showy 
 and cheap, the money has gone for paint and gilding, which 
 will soon tarnish and crack off, the wood will warp, the glue 
 prove treacherous, and our possessions will be a wreck. A look 
 of substantial comfort and rest, welcomes you to a room, and 
 gives the impression of beauty. When you. give up the idea of 
 costliness and fine display, take comfort for your aim. The 
 little money which would buy cheap shades, a varnished table, 
 a narrow, stiff little hair-cloth sofa, will pay ten times as well 
 in use and beauty, invested in good chintz for a lounge and 
 chair-cushions, and for lambrequins to the windows, and a good 
 cloth for a common table ; or have your curtains of white or 
 pale-hued lawn, and buy lady's cloth for your table-cover, and 
 embroider the edge in oriental work of some kind. Speaking 
 of furniture, children should not be allowed to treat it with 
 disrespect; they will be just as happy in proudly helping to 
 take care of it, as in destroying it. There is not beaut}' in a 
 room where children have daubed the floor and table-cover with 
 paste and ink; where they have stood on the chair-seats and 
 sofas or lounges, until the covers are rent or faded ; where they 
 
:66 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 have kicked the chair-rungs, and table-legs, and base-boards 
 until they ar'= all dents and scratches. Let them learn not to 
 stand on upholstery. If they must paint or paste in these rooms, 
 it is small trouble to teach them to spread a large newspaper 
 over the table-cover or carpet, where they are at work ; let them 
 have their own chairs and stools fit for their size, and then the 
 tired little legs dangling in mid-air will not be tempted to grind 
 varnish from adjacent furniture. 
 
 Third. In pursuit of beauty and ornament, don't crowd : 
 nothing is more beautiful than breathing room and space to 
 turn around safely. Walls covered w'Ah frames, brackets, autumn 
 leaves and the like, look patchy: we must not try to turn our 
 homes into museums or picture galleries; disgust accompanies 
 surfeit of the eye as well as of the stomach, and there is an old 
 story that " enough is as good as a feast," may-be better in its 
 results. 
 
 Fourth. When we seek Beauty for our Home, let us remem- 
 ber that every human soul has to some degree a capacity for 
 beauty; that what is the choice life of our own Home, flourishes 
 well in other Homes. If we love beauty for itself, we shall 
 desire to disseminate it wherever we go — to widen its refining 
 reign in the world. We shall consider first, that Beauty I'n our 
 own homes is not to be confined to our own parlo»- or bed; com, 
 or to our children's and guests' rooms; our servants showld be 
 made sharers in it. The kitchen, because it is z kitchen, is not 
 beyond the influence of Beauty: when we reftcct how really 
 beautiful some farm kitchens are, we may conc(ade that village 
 and town kitchens may be made beaufiful in t!ieir degree, even 
 though they do not open on clover fields in bioqm,on sweet, old- 
 fashioned gardens, where hollyhocks tower over currant bushes, 
 and hop vines wave tasselled banners m the breeze. Then 
 there are our servants' rooms : how often have I heard mistresses 
 .comolpm that the maids kept their room so untidy! Did t'^« 
 
THE BEAUTY OF THE HOME. 167 
 
 mistress try to beautify it? Did she encourage the maid to keep 
 it nicely? The bed is left unmade? Well, were the bed-clothes 
 whole and clean, with a decent outside spread, or were they 
 worn-out rubbish, too bad for any others of the family to use ? 
 Was there a little curtain to the window, a bit of carpet by the 
 bed, a stand neatly covered for lamp, Bible, bouquet, or any of 
 the girl's little treasures ? Were there hooks for the clothes, and 
 was there any attempt to ornament the walls ? Would the Home 
 have been poorer for a picture or two, a comb-basket, and a wall- 
 pocket? If we cultivate Beauty in our Homes, let us do it thor 
 oughly, and let all share in it. 
 
 Again, if we have any new or good ideas of increasing the 
 Beauty of a Home, let us not be chary of sharing our wisdom 
 with our friends and neighbors ; let us be glad to help make 
 other homes beautiful. And when we are visiting the sick and 
 poor, let us remember that somewhere in their hearts, dormant, 
 may-be, or benumbed under many rebuffs, is the love of Beauty, 
 and let us try and revive it, and shed a little of its light on their 
 paths. It will be to many medicine to mind and body. I recall 
 a case here in point. I had a protegee, a poor humpbacked 
 girl, very weakly, confined to her invalid chair in a little bed- 
 room opening from a larger place occupied by her mother, who 
 took in washing, and her father, who cobbled shoes. She was a 
 n'ce girl, and labored painfully at knitting, to help earn her 
 living. I had helped the poor family get these two rooms, which 
 were well sunned and capable of being well aired. Helen had 
 given the invalid a bit of carpet and a white curtain, and Miriam 
 had bestowed on her some bedding ; we all helped her get work, 
 and now and then sent her soup, biscuits, a paper, or a book. I 
 left home for six weeks, and requested Hester to look after Mar- ' 
 garet during my absence. When I went to visit my charge on 
 my return, I found her whole room brighter, her face brighter, 
 and her health better by far; she seemed to have a new interesi 
 in things. Presently she said : 
 
168 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Do look at my window — isn't it beautiful? Mrs. Nugent 
 showed me how to fix all those things one day while I was sick, 
 and now when I feel very badly I have only to look at those 
 growing things, and I forget my troubles ; you see I did the 
 work myself, and it has been so lovely to see the change ! " 
 
 A glass fruit-jar hung in the centre of the window by a red 
 cord; in this was a sweet potato, filling the jar with white roots, 
 and sending down outside delicate vines. On either side hung 
 by cords a carrot and a turnip turned upside down, hollowed into 
 little baskets, and filled with water; they had sent out a fine 
 leafage, and were globes of green. A shallow raisin-box stood 
 on the window-sill ; it was filled with earth, and here the sick 
 girl had planted seeds, and set a bulb and a slip or two, herself, 
 and rejoiced to watch them grow. She had cut common pictures 
 from the papers and pasted them on the box, and it really looked 
 very well. Hester had also given her some bits of silk and 
 merino, and shown her how to make herself a knitting-bag, a 
 pin-cushion, a pair of wall-pockets in which to keep the various 
 little things which she needed, and which had hitherto encum- 
 bered her room. 
 
 "Don't I look nice!" she cried, leaning back with a sigh of 
 satisfaction; "why, I feel almost well, making and enjoying 
 these things: it is far prettier work than knitting, and Mrs. Nu- 
 gent says if I become handy at it, perhaps she can find some 
 shop where they will take a basket of my work to sell." 
 
 I took a lesson from that of the power of beauty, of variety 
 and of new interests, over the sick and poor. But all thzft is 
 external has its chie/ value as it affects the internal, and the great 
 value of the cultivation of Beauty in our Homes is that it tends 
 to soften and refine the man«ers, make the heart innocently busy 
 and happy, and encourage a Love of Home. 
 
 While this subject of Beauty in the Home has been especially 
 occupying my mind, I have noticed in my visits to my friends 
 
<» 
 
 ^^ 
 
 x^ 
 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
THE BEAUTY OI- THE HOME. 169 
 
 several simple styles of ornament, which are worthy of attention. 
 Hester gave her father a fire-screen for a Christmas present ; as 
 John uses an open grate — the most beautiful and healthful kind 
 of a fire — this screen was very acceptable to him for use, as well 
 as for beauty. Hester had procured two large panes of window- 
 glass, twenty inches by two feet. On one of these she had glued 
 large pressed ferns, a spray of autumn leaves, some grasses, and 
 several moths and butterflies, of which she used the wings, and 
 painted in the bodies ; she arranged these materials on the glass 
 until the whole represented a lovely bit of forest scenery. She 
 then cemented the other pane of glass upon this one, so that the 
 ornaments were between the two, and the cement at the edges 
 excluded air. She had this double glass fiftnly held in a metal 
 frame, and fastened to a screw screen-stand. I never saw a more 
 tasteful object than this with the firelight shining through it.- I 
 admired it so much that Hester came to my house, and made up 
 one of the large panes of my sitting-room window, in this same 
 style, fastening her second sheet of glass over the one in the 
 window, so I have now an exquisite fragment of fern scenery, 
 with the sunlight shining through it. 
 
 Miriam also invented a method of window trimming for the 
 sash around her front door, which hitherto had been white glass, 
 shaded with vestibule lace. She procured for each of the nine 
 panes around the .door a picture representing an upright piece 
 of statuary : she cut out this picture, and with very clear gum- 
 arabic-water glued it with its face to the pane. The next day 
 with a damp sponge she removed all the paper on the back of 
 the picture, until only the fine film on which the picture was 
 stamped remained : this she had been careful not to mar. Again 
 she let it dry fully, and then painted all the window about the 
 picture with oil paint (artist's, not house paint) ; she laid this on 
 evenly and very thin, in a solid color, and when it was dry 
 varnished the whole with picture varnish, covering both paint 
 
170 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 and picture. Each pane was of a single bright color : thus the 
 
 lower left-hand pane was orange, the next emerald, the next 
 scarlet, the first transom pane indigo, the next gray, the next 
 indigo, and the right-hand panes matched the left : the whole 
 appearance of the hall was altered by this ornamentation of the 
 door, and I told her it was a treat to come down her stairs and 
 look at this pretty imitation of painted glass. 
 
 Miriam's window suggested an idea to Mary Watkins for her 
 sitting-room. Mary presses flowers very beautifully : she glued 
 some delicate sprays of blue flowers upon one of her windows, 
 and varnished the window with picture varnish ; the effect was 
 charming. 
 
 Hester has in hef sitting-room a fine aquarium, but she has 
 time and money for such things. Still I think an aquarium both 
 beautiful, and, in a house full of children, a useful object to 
 interest them in natural things. Helen has a row of hyacinths 
 in glasses, and Miriam, on a common stand covered with 
 oil-cloth, has a bed of moss and a rockery, in which little rock- 
 ferns are growing, and where some real snail-shells and some 
 stuffed birds look very beautiful. Cousin Ann's Sarah gave 
 me, on my birthday, a wire basket with a dish in it where trail- 
 ing vines and some tall ferns were growing, and poised on the 
 handle was a stuffed robin, looking down at a butterfly which 
 seemed to have just lit on a spray of one of the vines. I do 
 not know that I ever had an ornament in my parlor which I 
 admired more. So do art and nature liberally aicJ us in the 
 creation of Beauty in our Homes. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. 
 HOW AUNT SOPHRONIA THINKS INDUSTRY BENEFITS THE HOME. 
 
 p7| AM fond of reading, and spend several hours each day 
 )1[ with my books. Helen laughs at my library, and says 
 "" she does not understand how I can like such old-fash- 
 ioned books as I have ; perhaps the very reason that 
 they suit me is that they are old-fashioned. At all events, there 
 is sound, good sense in the volumes. There is Franklin, for 
 instance : what a mine of valuable thoughts in his works ! I 
 was reading in my Franklin only this morning, and I paused 
 over this passage : " Dost thou love life ? Then do not squander 
 time, for that is the stuff life is made of." Shortly after, as I sat 
 with my sewing, the second Miss Black called. She cried out : 
 "Always busy. Miss Sophronia! Here is your work-basket 
 full, and I see your book is open on the table. What in the 
 world do you find to do ? I never find anything." 
 
 "Then, my dear," I replied, "you must be living with your 
 eyes shut, for I never yet saw any one to whom the •\vorld did 
 not offer plenty to do. When God created Adam, he created 
 also a business for Adam ; he did not make him a gentleman of 
 leisure, with the first years of Creation hanging heavily upon 
 his hands ; and so, ever since, when God sends a reasonable soul 
 into the world, he sends with it its especial work and round of 
 duties, which belong to no other soul : believe me, God investi- 
 gates our doings here, and will make inquiry whether or not we 
 
 '^rformed this work which he intends for our doing." 
 
 (171) 
 
172 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " You look so seriously at things, Miss Sophronia ; but do 
 tell me what you find to do. You have your nice house, your 
 good servant, your income : you might sit with folded hands." 
 
 " So I might, but I should hear a voice in my ears : ' What 
 doest thou here ? ' And by-and-by God would call upon me : 
 'Give an account of thy stewardship;' and being compelled to 
 speak the truth, suppose that I must say: 'O, I was in easy cir- 
 cumstances, and I sat with my hands folded.' But you ask 
 what I do. I have my housekeeping to look to, my friends to 
 make comfortable when they visit me, and my sewing to do. 
 Next I have my social duties : I am at leisure, and the expe- 
 rience of several tens of years is in my keeping; therefore I feel 
 an especial call to visit the sick. When a family is down with 
 measles, or scarlet fever, or some other epidemic, why should 
 they be neglected, or the mother be over-taxed, when I am at 
 leisure to help? So, in accidents, I am often sent for; thus my 
 work among the sick fills up a good many hours. Then there 
 are aged people who cannot go abroad, and chronic invalids 
 who get very lonely in their rooms, and feel as if they were for- 
 gotten : I visit them. The poor are Christ's legacy to all those 
 of his people who are able to help them, and I have my rounds 
 among the poor, helping them with gifts, securing work for 
 them, advising them, getting them into church and Sunday- 
 school. I have also my church work: having leisure, good 
 health and a few dollars to spare, I ought to help in the 
 benevolent schemes of my church, and I do that. But, while 
 helping others, I must not forget my own ; and my nieces 
 have young families. I can be a great help to them by taking 
 home part of their sewing and mending, taking a child home 
 here for a week if the mother is sick, knitting the little mit- 
 tens and stockings : these are trifles, but they lighten domestic 
 cares for busy mothers. Then once a year Christmas comes, 
 and I want to make presents to my nieces and their servants, to 
 
ikDUS'JRY l.V rilE HOME. " Y7-\ 
 
 my servan'.s and poor friends. So, my dear Miss Black, 1 find 
 work for all my time, and I have given you this sketch of it, 
 because you asked me, and because, as you say you have 
 nothing 1 5 do, I hoped it might be useful to you in suggesting 
 lines of work. But, as one of a large family, I should suppose 
 you would find work in abundance." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," replied Miss Black. " Mother keeps the 
 house, and then there are the servants to do the work." 
 
 " Did you never see your mother over-worked ? Is she not 
 toiling sometimes until greatly fatigued, or when she has a head- 
 ache? Pardon me: does not your mother look too old for her 
 years? Could not her daughters have saved her some of that 
 extra work which wears her out?" 
 
 "Why don't she ask help, then? She never does," cried Miss 
 Black. 
 
 "Some mothers have a false idea of increasing their children's 
 happiness by not asking them to work ; and then, help freely 
 offered is better than help demanded, or asked for half a dozen 
 times, or argued over. I have seen girls scowl at being asked to 
 help for an hour a mother who had, been toiling cxhaustingly 
 for eight hours. I have seen other girls who, with quick eye, 
 sought out every place where they could help, and when finally 
 bidden by the busy mother to go dress, walk, read or visit, 
 begged to be allowed some other share of work until they might 
 both be done together. But, Miss Black, as we are on this 
 subject, and you have introduced it, do you never see your ser- 
 vants over-worked ? the kitchen-servant ready to drop with 
 fatigue, when you might cheer and relieve her by making a 
 cake, a few pies, a pan of biscuits or setting a table? Could you 
 not find a time when the other maid, who does up-stairs' work 
 and sewing, would be saved from really too severe driving, \\ 
 you swept and dusted a room or two, or lent the aid' of you! 
 
 needle in the sewing-room ? " 
 12 
 
174 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Dear me, it never entered my head," replied the young lady. 
 " I do as much as my sisters, and we all do nothing. I fix up 
 little trimmings, fancy collars and cuffs, or such things, now and 
 then, as I need them. I put the flowers in the parlor, and help 
 my sister make our bed. I read a book now and then if it is 
 interesting, and I practise some, and get ready my dress, if I am 
 going to a party, and I sit and look out of the window, or I take 
 an afternoon nap: we sit up so late, having evening callers; 
 and I go shopping, and I walk around the streets, or make a 
 few calls, and — there, that is all I do." 
 
 " But, my dear girl, what of all this is useful to yourself or to 
 others ? With what of all this is God pleased ? What of all 
 this is the work which he sent into the world for your doing ? " 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know! You quite frighten me asking that." 
 
 " Consider it is a question that must meet you some day, as it 
 is appointed unto all men once to die, and after that comes the 
 judgment. Reason would say, have an answer ready." 
 
 " Frankly, Miss Sophronia, what could girls like myself and 
 my three sisters do ? What ouglii we to do ? " 
 
 " That is asking a stranger a delicate question. But did you 
 never hear your mother complaining of pressure of work, 
 worrying over bills for sewing, over the complaints of the 
 servants ? Now could you not relieve her in these matters ? 
 F.ach two of you girls share a room ; why not one of you take 
 entire charge of that room ? sweeping, dusting, bed-making, 
 mending carpet, towels, bedding — in fact, being responsible for 
 absolute order there. The other two could then take care one 
 of the parlor, one of the dining-room, keeping all bright and in 
 repair. Consider how much better it would be done; how 
 much more comfort your two servants would have, and how 
 much longer they would be likely to stay ; thus your mother 
 would be greatly relieved. Suppose, then, one of you girls 
 made all the cake, another all the desserts, another took charge 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. I75 
 
 of the Stockings of your father and three brothers, another made 
 the shirts : you see the two servants, in a family of nine, would 
 still find work enough ; and you as interested parties would be 
 economical in the cooking which you did, and your mother, 
 relieved of a certain share of her mending and making and 
 supervising, would feel her vigor renewed." 
 
 " But we don't know how to do these things ! " 
 
 " You ought to know how, and the sooner you learn the 
 better. Your mother and the maids would teach you gladly." 
 
 " But with all that we should be worked to death ! " 
 
 " Pray, then, how long do you expect your mother to live ? 
 But instead of being worked to death, you would all be in 
 better health, have finer complexions, better spirits and a more 
 cheerful home — to say nothing of doing your duty to God, your 
 parents and your fellow-creatures. Did you ever read a saying 
 of Sydney Smith's? — 'Let every man be occupied, and occu- 
 pied in the highest employment of which his nature is capable, 
 and die with the consciousness that he has done his best' " 
 
 " No," said Miss Black, " I never did. I am half inclined to 
 believe you. Miss Sophronia, that we should be happier if we 
 were more industrious. Sometimes when we have been actually 
 working for a fair, or a festival, or preparing for a party, we 
 have really enjoyed ourselves: possibly, it was because we were 
 busy. Certainly I don't think work could made us less happy 
 than we are : for you never saw such a listless, bored set as we 
 are, unless we are putting on our best spirits to entertain a few 
 gentlemen callers." 
 
 "And the poor father, and mother, and brothers — they are 
 treated to the listlessness and boredom : is that making Home 
 happy ? " 
 
 " I fear not. I never thought I was responsible for making 
 Home happy ; or that taking hold and doing something was a 
 means to that end. I'll tell my sisters what you say, and think 
 't over." 
 
176 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 After Miss Black had gone, I sat considering what a sin 
 parents commit, who do not bring up their children to be 
 industrious, to feel that every home should be a hive of 
 industry, that, in one way or another, every member of the 
 family must contribute their share of labor to home activities. 
 How little do we think of impressing upon the minds of the 
 young the fact, that God expects them to do something ! As far 
 as I can learn from the Scripture, heaven itself seems a place 
 of joyous activity. I never yet read of a good person who was 
 not a busy person ; business and happiness seem also com- 
 mingled in this world ; and activity, useful activity and good 
 health go hand in hand. Cultivate laziness in a child, and you 
 cultivate poverty, poor health, unhappiness and crime. What a 
 fashion of slow suicide is this much talked of " killing our 
 time!" How are mothers left weary and discouraged, who 
 have not trained their children to help them heartily and lov- 
 ingly ! The hand of the diligent maketh rich ; being "not sloth- 
 ful in business " is one of the main ways of serving the Lord, 
 who called us to labor. I felt quite stirred up as I considered 
 this question, and I made up my mind to get what information 
 on the subject I could, and to talk of it very earnestly with my 
 nieces and young friends, and urge them to train up their 
 children in habits of industry and helpfulness — to have their 
 Homes centres of good activity. While I was thinking thus. 
 Cousin Ann came in. She had driven in to the village with a 
 quantity of eggs and butter for the hotel, and she came, as she 
 often does, to take dinner with me. Of course I did not betray 
 Miss Black's confidences, nor did I mention Mrs. Black's great 
 failure in bringing up her children; but I said to Cousin Ann. 
 when she was comfortably seated and had begun to knit on a 
 stocking for Helen's Tom : 
 
 " Cousin Ann, you are never idle, and your children are just 
 like you in that." 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. 177 
 
 " Trained them to it," said Cousin Ann. 
 
 " I should like to know how you did it. I have had the sub- 
 ject of industry and indolence in Homes brought before my 
 mind this morning, and I want to know how you proceeded in 
 bringing up all your family to be industrious.'' 
 
 " I made a habit of it, in the first place," said Cousin Ann. 
 "and then I gave them an object in it; and meantime I studied 
 the children themselves, so as to direct their industry as far as I 
 could in a natural bent, and not make labor a bitterness to them. 
 For instance Fred always took to gardening, while Reed had a 
 natural love of animals, and Dick has always been a terribly 
 active child, with big muscles which wanted to be exercised ; a 
 boy, who, if he couldn't let off his energy in some honest hard 
 work, would be up to all sorts of mischief, just to get a vent for 
 his overflowing animal energy. We ought to study children in 
 giving out their work, and while necessity rules often in distrib- 
 uting employment, we should follow the natural bent, just as far 
 as we can. Well, as I was saying, I made industry a habit for 
 my children. I taught them to wait on themselves, to clear up 
 litter which they made, to get out and put by their own toys. 
 You could hardly imagine, Sophronia, how early a young child 
 can be taught to help. .1 did my own work when Fred, Reed 
 and Sarah were little — that is, most of the time. I taught them, 
 first, not to be troublesome to me, and then to help me. The 
 little things could bring chips or wood from the wood-house, 
 stick by stick, or feed the chickens, or open and shut doors, and 
 so on to larger and larger things. To be sure they made mis^ 
 takes, and made more work than they did, in the very effort to 
 help, and at first I should have saved time and toil doing it all 
 myself But I remembered that I was working for the future, 
 that I was moulding the children into such men and women as 
 they would be, that as I taught them now I should be helped by 
 them after a while : so I kept steadily on teaching them. They 
 
178 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 got bruises in falls, ran splinters into their fingers, burnt their 
 busy little hands ; but these misadventures taught them careful- 
 ness, and through it all they got a fixed habit of being helpful 
 and busy, and of not sitting idle when there was work to be 
 done, and other people were busy. Of course, you understand 
 me, Sophronia. I don't mean that now Sarah would not sit down, 
 or take a book, or go dress herself, because there were dishes to 
 wash, and the servant was washing them; so long as the girl 
 knows how and has the time, her own work can be left to her ; 
 but Sarah feels that she owes to God the right use of her time, 
 and she would not dare to spend an idle day; she changes work, 
 and rests in the change ; she is working while she informs her 
 mind, makes her clothes, and takes her part in the homework 
 of all kinds." 
 
 "You mentioned giving your children a special interest in 
 work, as well as a fixed habit of doing it," I said. 
 
 "Yes, 'in all labor there is profit,' says the Scripture, and I 
 wanted my children practically to learn that. I said Fred 
 naturally loved gardening. I set him at it early. I had him 
 help me in my garden among the vegetables, and I gave him a 
 sunny strip of border for himself, where he planted vegetables 
 which he sold on his own account — that is, when we sent a load 
 of vegetables to market, Fred's lettuces, bunches of onions, or 
 radishes, or beets, or his heads of cabbage were counted in, and 
 he got what money they brought. He did not rob us of his 
 help while he raised these things : he got the time by putting 
 Industry against idleness. We were as well pleased when he 
 treated himself to a pair of skates as to a nice book, and he 
 always gave away a portion of his own. Reed, on the other 
 hand, hated gardening; he worked in the garden when I bid 
 him, but it was just as easy to set Reed to tending the fowls, to 
 making chicken-coops, cleaning the hen-house, putting up roosts, 
 feeding fowls, pounding fresh bones for them, or feeding the 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. 17g 
 
 calves and watering the horses : he did these things well. So 
 he was given his especial hen, his sheep, his calf, and he worked 
 like a hero, to bring them up in the way that they should go ; to 
 return him profit, they were fed and housed, and cared for with 
 all his might. He learned the care of stock, and you know he 
 has a stock-farm now, and many of his brutes are of his own 
 raising. Sarah early learned to help me in the house, and she 
 had her little share in the butter. She and Fred both gathered 
 and sold garden seeds and sweet herbs to the grocer here in 
 the village, and as she grew older, when by extra industry she 
 hemmed a set of sheets, or made up half-a-dozen pair of pillow- 
 cases, she got her pay for them. Not that any of them learned 
 to claim pay from us : we gave it and they took it as an encour- 
 agement. As we grew better oiT, Sarah got her allowance, so 
 that she would know how to use money wisely. Dick was 
 allowed to use his energies in wood-chopping, in hauling fuel 
 from the wood-lot, in cleaning walks, in ploughing before and 
 after school. All the boys were set at helping their father on 
 the farm as the two girls helped me in-doors. When they pro- 
 posed new plans, as bee-keeping or sorghum-raising, we let them 
 try it, and we always kept them in school and gave them all the 
 books and papers we could. Indeed, Sophronia, I think they 
 have been as happy a set of children as ever lived, and as indus- 
 trious too." 
 
 " I've no doubt," I replied, " that their happiness rose in a 
 large degree from their industry, which kept them from moping 
 and mischief, and gave them the peaceful consciousness of well- 
 doing, for idleness is misery." 
 
 "Some mothers think," resumed Cousin Ann, "that they can 
 get no help in the house from boys : if they have no daughters 
 they must work on unaided. I have seen boys sitting in a 
 kitchen when their mother was bringing fuel, or water, or black- 
 ing a stove, or when their sisters, tired with washing or baking, 
 
180 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 v/ere performing these tasks. The boys had been at work out 
 of doors perhaps, or, out-of-door work being done, they had 
 done nothing; if they hung up their caps and put by their boots 
 it was as much as they thought they could do within doors. 
 Now I hold that nothing is more really ennobling and improving 
 to a boy than to learn to do little things to help his mother in 
 the house. Where servants are kept, his round of household 
 duties is but a small one, but he should be taught to do all that 
 he can. Why cannot he learn to set chairs in their places? to 
 pick up and fill a spilled work-basket ? to hold and amuse a 
 fretting child? to carry a meal to an invalid? to bathe an aching 
 head? All these things will not make him 'a Miss Nancy,' but 
 will tone down his boyish roughness, ameliorate his awkward- 
 ness, make him thoughtful for others, and so truly manly in 
 using his strength to aid weakness. I taught my boys to sweep 
 and dust a room; to scour knives; to blacken a stove; to set 3 
 tabic ; I had them so trained that they would have scorned t<! 
 sit by a stove and see their sister or mother filling the stove with 
 fuel or bringing a bucket of water. I remember once being at 
 a house where the only son was preparing for the ministry; the 
 room became chilly; his worship was reading a paper; he 
 bawled to his sister, who was in the next room getting dinner : 
 ' Mag ! bring a scuttle of coal for this stove ! ' I made up my 
 mind that that family had not been trained in family industry: 
 the industry had been all on one side. Once I went to take a 
 firkin of butter to Mrs. Winton. It was a number of years ago, 
 and however it happened, she had no girl. It was about eight 
 in the morning; little Grace was washing the dishes, and one of 
 her brothers was drying them; the oldest boy had just finished 
 putting the dining-room in order, and I tell you it was in order. 
 Nor was he a bit ashamed of it. He said: 'Cousin Ann, see 
 how well I can do up a room ; this is all my work to-day; now 
 if you'll wait until I have polished the breakfast-knives, I'll ride 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. jgl 
 
 AS far as school with you;' and Mrs. Winton told me those two 
 boys got up, made the fire, filled the tea-kettle, and set the 
 breakfast-table, before she and Grace got down to cook break- 
 fast. She said they could make their beds, too." 
 
 " It didn't hurt them," I said, " for those two Wintons are the 
 very first young men in this town." 
 
 "Hurt them! no," said Cousin Ann: "North Winton will nor 
 plead a case less eloquently for having been trained to be useful, 
 and I think the way Robert was brought up to wait oh his 
 mother will make him a better doctor. In fact, Sophronia, my 
 rule is, to have a busy household, and give every member a 
 share of work." 
 
 "I'm glad to get your views," I replied, "for I mean to talk 
 with my young friends about activity and industry in the House- 
 hold. You don't seem afraid of wearing folks out with work, 
 Cousin Ann; how is that?" 
 
 "I hope you understand me, Sophronia," said Cousin Ann; 
 " I do not look on work as an end in itself, neither as the highest 
 human good, and in the word work, as we are now talking, I 
 include all that is useful to ourselves or others; we are given, 
 as I take it, by the Lord himself, a certain time to live in the 
 world, and a certain amount of good, of adding to the sum of 
 human happiness and worthiness, which we can do in that time. 
 The good done is the end, and the work is the means to gain 
 it; we cannot do this good without activity, and, moreover, the 
 Lord has given us enough to do to fill up all our time. Con- 
 sidering all this, I do not think that work or activity is other 
 than man's natural condition, and so it is likely to be a healthful 
 condition. People do get injured by severe work, but if you 
 will look into these cases, you will see that the injury-doing 
 work was not of the Lord's ordering. Persons hurt themselves 
 by the fierce kind of work they do to hurry up a fortune : to 
 grasp too soon or too much what is going in the way of money. 
 
182 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Other people wear out of the over-work of pride ; they must have 
 ornaments, fineries, elaborate dress, or furnishings, to out-do 
 their neighbors, and they kill themselves for that. Other people 
 still are working double shares, doing the work which some 
 idle member of their families has left undone; the conscientious 
 and busy one becoming the victim of some sluggard's selfishness: 
 thus the mothers of lazy daughters. Again, I have seen folks 
 who wore themselves out with the strain of fretting, anxiety, 
 repining over their work, grinding their minds to pieces with the 
 irritation of unwillingness or useless worry to do more or better 
 than they reasonably can. Still other victims of work are those 
 who work without any system, and so the labor which would 
 be healthful and moderate becomes a burden, sinking them into 
 insanity or the grave. Most people who are said to die of over- 
 work die of misdirected activity, or of neglect of system in their 
 work. I should say that system is to labor what oil is to ma- 
 chinery : without it all goes heavily and creaking, and wears out 
 speedily. 
 
 " Bustle, Sophronia, is not industry, as you very well know ; 
 people flutter and bustle about like a hen raising ducks, and 
 then complain that their work has killed them, when it was the 
 fuss that was the killing cause. To go back to where I started : 
 work is from God, and he has told us how to work, so that in 
 working we shall be happy and strong and effective. He says 
 first for each day : ' The night cometh, when no man can work.' 
 He gave the night for sleep, the evening hours for quiet resting 
 of body and mind. When folks toil along in the evenings, after 
 the brutes have gone to rest, somebody is usually to blame : 
 vanity, somebody's selfishness, the avarice of employers who 
 will not give living wages for ten daylight hours' toil ; some 
 check has been offered to God's beneficent plan. So if we don't 
 want to be killed by work, let us take a fair share of sleep ; and 
 let us rest, or have some very easy restful occupation for evening 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. \%'J, 
 
 At our house we have for evenings more reading than anything 
 else ; the children spend some time on their next day's lessons ; 
 the stocking-darning is evening work, and so, in the season, is 
 fruit-paring. Sometimes, to be sure, when we are making mince- 
 meat or sausages, the work runs into the evening, and so in 
 killing time ; but that is only on distant occasions, and so does 
 no damage. The next rule for resting which the Lord gives is 
 a weekly rule : ' Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. 
 Thou shalt do no labor, neither thou, nor thy son, nor thy 
 daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, 
 nor thy stranger within thy gates.' The New Testament shows 
 that we must on Sabbath ' assemble ourselves together ' for 
 worship, give the sick due aid, and bestow needed attention on 
 the brutes, and give ourselves our proper food. Outside of this 
 we are to rest ; and I promise you, Sophronia, if this were 
 observed, no elaborate dressing, no big dinners, no , visits, no 
 amusements, but a complete, quiet, family resting, the church, 
 the proper books, a nap if one is feeble or weary, and a real rest- 
 day from sun to sun, there would be no breaking down from 
 overwork, no farmers' wives in mad-houses." 
 
 " But how about the milk, and the butter, and the eggs, Cousin 
 Ann?" I ventured to ask. 
 
 "The eggs can be left until Monday morning from Saturday 
 evening. The milking must be done for the sake of the animals : 
 but if milk that needs churning is churned on Saturday night, 
 the rest, if the dairy is properly aired, cleaned and shaded, can 
 be left until Monday morning. Don't tell me milk must be 
 churned or carried to the cheese-factory on Sunday ; it is clear to 
 my mind that if people were compelled to give to the Lord the 
 price of all the cheese and butter made on His day, they'd find 
 means of keeping the milk over Sunday.'' 
 
 " Very true," I said, " but go on with your views about resting.'' 
 
 " The Lord gave to the people of Israel several national 
 
84 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 holidays each year, requiring old and young, bond and free, to 
 share them joyously. From this example we should set a due 
 value on certain fixed holidays, and not ruthlessly run our work 
 over them, but observe them with our whole families, in some 
 such way as shall give the most change to the current of our 
 thoughts and cares. We have New Year's, Washington's Birth- 
 diy, Easter, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas. As the 
 reach between Easter and the Fourth, and from that on to 
 Thanksgiving, is pretty long, I should throw, in those spaces, a 
 birthday keeping, a picnic day, a festival of some kind, and these 
 days will be found^ to strengthen family ties, freshen health and 
 interest in work, and give a new spring of vitality to all our 
 labors. People who live in this way will not die'of overwork, 
 Sophronia." 
 
 Hester had come in quietly during the conversation. I said 
 to her : 
 
 " Hester, you are always busy, and yet always fresh and 
 strong. Aside from the care which you take of your health, 
 how do you manage your work so that you shall not complain 
 of over-exhaustion ? " 
 
 " I find," replied Hester, " that there is great rest in mere 
 ■ -■hange of labor. It is not so much, when one is tired, that one 
 aeeds to drop everything and lie or sit with folded hands : this 
 Is sometimes needful ; but there is true and effective rest in 
 bringing into action an entirely different set of thoughts and of 
 muscles. Thus, one who is tired with sweeping, scrubbing or 
 ironing, can rest thoroughly by bathing face and hands, taking 
 a footstool and a comfortable chair, and taking up some sewing 
 [f I have tired myself by several days of writing, or of study of 
 languages, or by the pursuit of aijy one difficult subject, I find 
 that I rest my mind and body by an entire change of work : by 
 taking up some study in natural sciences, by taking a few days 
 for sewing or social duties, or by doing some work in the house, 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. 185 
 
 IVith this in view I arrange that house-cleaning, preserving, or 
 preparing the clothing for a change of seasons, shall come after 
 some heavy piece of brain work, when I need the rest of change." 
 "The Lord teaches us that lesson, I think," said Cousin Ann, 
 " in the change of seasons itself This change, four times in a 
 year, necessarily gives us a change in our labors — sov/ing, hay 
 ing, harvesting, fruit-picking, fall-ploughing, winter work of 
 repairing utensils and buildings, follow one after the other, and 
 rest us by the change which they afford. In the house this is 
 also true." 
 
 "The fact is," said Hester, "that more diseases arise from 
 indolence than from overwork : idleness begets vice, and vice 
 fosters disease. One reason why, taken as a whole, city and 
 town girls are feebler than country girls is, that they have less to 
 do ; they idle about and fix their tastes on luxury and folly and 
 amusements ; their minds and bodies lose all spring and vigor. 
 Wasting their lives in this wretched way, girls become extrava- 
 gant and expensive in their wants, and weak in muscle, nerves 
 and morals ; young men become foppish, dishonest and intem- 
 perate. Parents, guardians and teachers should wake up to the 
 dangers of this idleness, v/hich lies at the root of much mania, 
 hysteria and crime. This laziness is creating for us in the cities 
 a generation of paupers and hospital patients ; the good-hearted, 
 pretty, naturally bright girl becomes the vapid, morbid, chronic 
 invalid. Not an invalid by dispensation of Providence, but the 
 invalid of her own making; and a hardy and more courageous 
 race will take the place of these pining or vicious beings. I 
 feel awake on this subject because I have studied it carefully 
 ktely, while preparing an article upon it for press." 
 
 " You could not choose a better or more useful theme," said 
 Cousin Ann. " But I declare, Sophronia, it is almost three 
 o'clock ! I often say I must keep away from your house, for no 
 sooner do I get here, than you start me off on some subject 
 
186 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 which I am interested in, and then, as I have to-day, I spend th& 
 whole morning doing — " 
 
 " Don't you dare to say ' nothing,' Cousin Ann, for you said 
 yourself, that one was always working well when doing any- 
 thing for the benefit of others, and to-day you have been very 
 greatly benefiting me." 
 
 Since this day's conversations, I have made myself quite h. 
 missionary in behalf of Household Industry. The more I think 
 of the subject the more important does it appear to me. It has 
 been well said that "It is what is saved, not what is made,,' 
 which constitutes national as well as individual wealth." Every 
 one will allow that labor is a source of wealth ; but one does 
 not so quickly see how the individual labors of each member of 
 a family will create that saving, which results in comfortable 
 circumstances, if not in affluence. But look at this a moment: 
 a daughter in a family is brought up in habits of industry and 
 not in idleness ; industry establishes her own health, and her 
 aid keeps her mother from being worked into a fit of sickness, 
 or a state of confirmed ill-health : what a saving is here at once 
 in the mere matters of medicines, nursing and doctor's bills ! 
 In a family of industrious daughters, skilled in the use of the 
 needle, how much longer do clothes last, than where nobody 
 has energy to repair, or make over, or neatly mend, and clothes 
 fall to pieces to be replaced by new ones ! The delicate taste, 
 the interested, thoughtful industry of the family, knowing each 
 one's needs, will go twice as far as the hired labor of the seam- 
 stress. And here I feel like going off on the word seamstress, 
 to protest against the starvation-wages paid to seamstresses by 
 the clothing-warehouse owners; and I would entreat ladies 
 not to try to save, or to escape care by purchasing ready-made 
 dresses and undergarments, every one of which may be at the 
 price of blood — as was to David the water of the well ol 
 Bethlehem, when he would not drink. No, my dear sisters, if 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. 187 
 
 you need to hire your clothes made, or if you prefer it, or can 
 afford it, have the seamstress in the house; there give her a 
 warm, sunny sewing-room ; if she stays at night, give her a nice 
 bed-chamber, give her three good meals a day, and don't 
 require her to sew on in the evening, just because she is on 
 hand, and will do it rather than lose your patronage. 
 
 Don't grind the faces of the poor, my dear wom^. Fortune 
 was represented formerly with a wheel, and time has a way of 
 bringing its revenges. Who can tell whether you, or your 
 child, or grandchild may be toiling for bread at a needle's 
 point? In families where all are reasonably and cheerfully busy, 
 there is not felt this passion for driving some one ; as Cousin 
 Ann said : " The over-work of the one is usually the satisfaction 
 offered for the laziness of several." A thrifty country lady once 
 told me her method of getting her sewing done for a large fam- 
 ily : she was not very well-to-do, and to save money was a 
 necessity to her. She found in the city a seamstress, who, with 
 hard labor for nine months in the year, barely managed to keep 
 the wolf from the door, while she wore herself out. This 
 woman was engaged by the farmer's wife for the three warm 
 months. The wages were low, but she had first-rate country 
 living, change of air, a fresh, pleasant room, kind society, her 
 evenings and Sabbaths to herself It was a blessed rest, and 
 renewed her strength and courage for the year. She went home 
 laden with gifts of butter, eggs, dried fruit, meat — a stock to 
 help her little housekeeping on for a long while to come.- 
 
 I am glad that Mary Watkins is bringing her little girl up in 
 the same industrious way in which she was herself trained. I 
 was there the other day, and the little thing, seated in her small 
 rocking-chair by her mother's side, was sewing carpet-rags: 
 she is scarcely five ; and this, and a little hemming on coarse 
 towels, is her first essay at sewing. Mary's boy, who is about 
 three and a half, was shelling seed-peas, and I was amused at 
 
188 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 the way Mary had taken to keep him from making a litter with 
 the work. She had set him in a washtub, and he shelled the 
 peas into the tub where he was. On one side his tub stood a 
 large basket with the dried pea-pods, and the empty husks he 
 put into a basket on the other side. Mary said that each of the 
 children had thus a half hour's work in the afternoon, an* in the 
 morning tli^y each had half an hour with their lessons. Besides 
 this, while the breakfast was being cleared away, Jimmy brought 
 in three baskets of chips and small wood, and Nettie wiped the 
 spoons and tea-cups for her mother. Mary said that the chil- 
 dren were much better natured, enjoyed their play better, and 
 were more careful and less destructive for this little responsibil- 
 ity of having something to do ; and she added, with pride, that 
 it was quite surprising how handy and careful Nettie was. She 
 was likely to prove an excellent little housewife, and Jimmy 
 was very fond of being useful also. 
 
 Helen seems less inclined to instruct her children in being 
 useful. She pleads that she has no time to teach them ; that she 
 has no patience to attend to their lessons ; that Belle will pick up 
 sewing some time, she supposes ; that it is much easier to do 
 things herself than worry with children's work, and that in her 
 house about one person's time is needed to repair the mischief 
 of Master Tom. 
 
 "Ah, Helen!" I cried, " the idle child is the mischievous child; 
 k would take far less time and patience to teach Tom useful 
 work than to let him turn his energies on mischief" 
 " But what on earth can Tom do ? " asked Helen. 
 " Hannah is kind ; let him go to the kitchen, and string beans 
 and shell peas ; let him learn to rub the knives ; let him be 
 charged with sweeping the back yard each day; let him black 
 his father's shoes and his own." 
 
 "Goodness!" said Helen, " he would black himself and the 
 kitchen floor a deal more than the shoes ! " 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. Igg 
 
 " Helen, many a city youngster of his age makes his own 
 Kvui^ by boot-blacking. Let him take the boots to the shed, 
 tie a kitchen-apron around his neck, and let Hannah show him 
 how, once or twice, and be a judge when his work is properly 
 finished. Anything is better than rampant, destructive idleness. 
 Get him a few tools and some wood, and let him make flower- 
 frames and little stools or boxes : find some use for his manu- 
 factures. Then do not give way to indolence, and neglect 
 teaching him to read, write and cipher. Happy the child whose 
 mother is his first teacher! As for Belle, Helen, don't dream 
 she will grow into industry without being taught it. You have 
 complained heartily of your over-indulgent grandmother, who 
 did not teach you to sew, to keep house, to systematize your 
 work : you suffer from that fatal neglect every day of youf 
 life; and yet you dare to pass such a legacy on to youi 
 daughter. Consider that she may live to be a wife and mother, 
 and that as you train her, you make or mar a future House- 
 hold, and become a good angel or an •evil genius to your 
 descendants." 
 
 "But, aunt," argued Helen, "some folks grow into these 
 things without ever being taught. Look at Hester: she taught 
 herself to keep house after she had grown up!" 
 
 " Hester happens to be a genius, and a person of uncommon 
 cotftcientiousness, Helen," I replied; "she will not neglect any 
 work, agreeable or otherwise, which it falls to her lot to do. 
 The rule is, however, that we do not learn useful things by 
 htuition, but we must be taught them. When one assumes a 
 mother's responsibilities one owes it to her children to arm 
 them against want and helplessness, by teaching them to be self- 
 reliant and industrious. You remember it was among the laws 
 of the Jews that a father should have his son circumcised, teach 
 him the law and teach him a trade ; even the wealthiest taught 
 their sons a trade to secure them against possible want. Thus 
 13 
 
190 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Paul made tents. While the son must be taught some business 
 of life, there is one business which should always be taught a 
 daughter — the business of housekeeping, in all its departments. 
 That sensible people, the Germans, do not neglect, as do we, 
 this training in housekeeping; the wealthiest and the highest in 
 rank take a pride in practically knowing all about it. This is 
 not to be learned in a few theoretical lessons; it can be well 
 acquired only by giving children from their earliest years their 
 share of home work." 
 
 It is hard to persuade Helen to do even a plain duty of 
 this kind, because she is so ignorant of work herself, and 
 naturally so indolent. I should think her losses, vexations, 
 trials and mortifications from having as a girl been habit- 
 uated to indolence, and so knowing nothing of her duties as 
 head of a household, would stir her up to have Belle well 
 taught. Mark and Miriam had far less cash capital to begin 
 life on than Frank and Helen, but the industry and good 
 judgment of Mark Have been so seconded by Miriam's skill, 
 taste, economy and industry at home, that I find they are 
 not only laying up more money than Frank, but are living 
 much more handsomely. There, too, were Reuben and Cousin 
 Ann : all they had to set out with was a run-down and heavily- 
 mortgaged farm, but by the united eftbrt and industry and 
 economy of the whole family, now they own the finest farrn in 
 the county; the two elder sons own a farm on each side their 
 parents; Sarah, who is next year to be married to young 
 Winton, will be very handsomely portioned; they have plenty 
 for hospitality; they are liberal in giving; it should have 
 been written on their doorway: 'Seest thou a man diligent in 
 business, he shall stand before kings.' Yes, my idea of a family 
 is a family of cheerful, useful activity; a hive of honey-bees; 
 not one or two workers — a tired father, a worn-out mother, an 
 enslaved servant or two — and all the rest drones. 
 
INDUSTRY IN THE HOME. ' 191 
 
 What a spectacle is this Household at Work ! The mother 
 amply aided; all things in order; work done beautifully and 
 systematically; intelligence reigning; time is here for books and 
 for art, and for beauty, and social life, because all have labored 
 willingly; it is not alone the mother's hands which toiled, while 
 daughters lay in bed, but all these are virtuous women whosft 
 price is above ruDici>. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LITERATURE IN THE HOVR 
 AUNT SOPHRONIA's IDEAS OF BOOKS AND READING. 
 
 [ T has long been my opinion that one of the chief ways of 
 making a home happy, thriving and useful in its in- 
 fluence, is to supply it well with books and papers. 
 Haying carefully observed and contrasted homes well 
 furnished with reading matter, and homes where literature is 
 unknown, I find that intelligence, family affection, thrift, economy, 
 business habits, and joyous home-loving mark the homes with 
 books ; and bickering, wastefulness, general ignorance and idle 
 pleasure-seeking, characterize the others. A home without books 
 argues at once a lack of educative influences ; it reduces its 
 members to find the entertainment and interest, which they will 
 inevitably seek, away from home in silly gossip, frequently 
 resulting in mischief, in games which are often the beginning of 
 quarrelling and cheating, in rudeness and thriftlessness, all far 
 more expensive than a large library of books. Such a Home 
 without reading is also shut off from a stream of new and useful 
 information constantly supplied by daily and weekly papers. It 
 is not merely that these papers contain the current affairs of the 
 day, the news of church, and of politics, and foreign affairs, and 
 the market reports — all valuable, and without which a man can 
 hardly be a reasonable citizen or a decent manager of his own 
 business — but these papers contain valuable information on 
 subjects of health, of farm-work, of fruit-culture, of household- 
 work, cooking, cleaning, the care of animals ; any one item of 
 (192) 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 193 
 
 which might prove on occasion worth the year's price of a paper. 
 Cousin Reuben takes a number of newspapers. He remarked 
 to me once, that if he had started on his farm without any 
 knowledge or experience of work, or of arranging his house so 
 as to keep it in a sound, healthful condition, he might yet by a 
 diligent study of his papers, applying to them his own judgment, 
 have learned how to manage all his affairs in a satisfactory 
 manner. He added : " I've paid out hundreds of dollars in my 
 time for my newspapers, for I am not such a sneak as to try and 
 steal my information from the editors. I pay in advance, and if 
 I've paid a few hundreds out, I've taken a good many hundreds 
 in by the use of them. My boys never had to hang around a 
 store, or a grog-shop, or a bar-room to learn what was going on 
 in the world; consequently they never learned to drink grog 
 nor to waste their time. Many is the hint we've got in, stock- 
 raising, in fruit and vegetable culture, and many is the poor 
 bargain we've been saved from making, by reading a good, 
 respectable, law-upholding, honest-dealing paper. We took care 
 as to the quality of our papers. We took our church papers, 
 too, and then we knew what was being done by the church, and 
 where we'd better give when we had a little to spare ; and our 
 minister didn't have to talk himself hoarse explaining things 
 which it was our business to know ; we enjoyed the sermons 
 more, and felt ourselves stirred up and more a part of the church 
 for reading all about it ; and the children had Sunday reading, 
 and did not find the Sabbath a weariness." 
 
 When I go into Mrs. Winton's of an evening, I usually find 
 the family reading. They have the magazines of the month, 
 the new books on the table. If Mr. Winton and the two sons 
 are free from business cares in the evenings, there is no 
 wondering what to do : they know where will be a comfortable 
 room, a good light, quiet, beauty of surroundings, and occupa. 
 tion for' the mind ; the family-room is a scene of comfort, of 
 
194 "^HE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 promise. How can these young folks help being honorable and 
 useful ? They are daily filling their minds with things beautiful, 
 true, practical ; they have no waste hours for Satan to fill with 
 mischief, no vacant brains to be provoked to evil deeds. 
 
 I was at Cousin Ann's son's farm one day, and Reed was 
 walking about with me showing his territories; and, indeed, 
 they were so well kept that they were a treat to see. The 
 cattle all looked like prize cattle. He had names for them all ; 
 and one handsome young heifer he called " Books," and a big 
 sheep " IVIaga," which he informed me was " short for maga- 
 zines," and a family of black Spanish hens ran to the call of 
 " Papers ! " I asked what in the world it all meant. He told 
 me that when he married, his mother gave him a pair of black 
 Spanish fowls, and told him to let their produce keep him in 
 papers. He accordingly called them " papers " for fun, and he 
 found that the eggs and chickens would supply him hand- 
 somely with papers. When the supply exceeded the demand 
 he would lay the surplus up to begin a fund for providing his 
 children with reading. His wife had proposed that the heifer 
 should be dedicated to the cause of a library ; so he, after sub- 
 tracting the cost of the animal's keep, meant to use her pro- 
 duce in buying books. The sheep had been a pet lamb given 
 to his wife by her sister, and she, having paid her board, secured 
 
 ' them a magazine or so. 
 
 " Well, well, Reed ! " I cried ; " that is a pretty sharp idea, 
 and worthy of your mother's son." 
 
 " Why, Aunt Sophronia," replied Reed, " we were brought 
 up on books, and we could not live without them. I expect to 
 make a decent fortune here, but I got my first notions of the 
 value and care of stock from books and papers. I noticed all 
 that I found on that theme :" it interested me ; I carried out 
 many suggestions and found them valuable. We boys never 
 
 -wanted to run off in the evenings : we got in hungry and tired ; 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 195 
 
 we found all neat, a good meal, a comfortable room, with a 
 light on a table where our books were. We made ourselves 
 tidy, had our supper, and saw no attraction in village corners, 
 or in smoky saloons : for here was room, and company, a good 
 story, a book of travels, books which our parents bought us 
 with much self-denial, books which we bprrowed, books from 
 the school library, books bought out of our own earnings. I 
 remember we boys clubbed our savings one fall, and bought 
 ' Kane's Arctic Expedition ' for winter reading. We had out 
 our maps ; we all read the book, parents and all ; we talked of 
 it at the table; every cold snap made it more vivid to us; we 
 got out our geographies ; we borrowed all we could get on the 
 subject of the North Seas. What paltry tavern would have 
 tempted us in comparison with those Northern wonders? 
 Whichever one knew the most about it was to own the book ; 
 but we all knew it so thoroughly that father could not decide 
 between us, and we gave it to mother for her birthday. But 
 what odds, all that was our mother's was ours ! " 
 
 "I remember," I said, "you children never destroyed your 
 books. And what scrap-books you used to make ! " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, we were taught to respect a book. Father told 
 us marvels of times before printing and of costly books. We 
 were trained to take care even of our toy books, to hand them 
 down for the happiness of our juniors; and as for the scrap- 
 books, mother thought children ought to grow up with books 
 to take naturally to loving them, so we cut out sheets of old 
 muslin, and pasted pictures and letters on them, indestructible 
 books for the babies — why my little year-old has one of them 
 now ! " 
 
 Well, that as I consider it is the secret of Cousin Ann's suc- 
 cess. She always began at the beginning, and faithfully built 
 up from that. She always felt that she was training her chil- 
 dren for ^& future, and that it did make a deal of difference what 
 they did when they were little. 
 
196 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 This is emphatically an Age of Books. Children will see a 
 deal of them as they go on in life. If you do not teach them to 
 choose and love good books, they will skim over bad ones just 
 enough to get poisoned by them. I think children should be 
 taught to love books. First, by always seeing them around 
 them, and by owning them from their earliest years. Second, 
 by being taught to respect them and take good care of them : 
 a little child should not be permitted to destroy books. For 
 very little children, indestructible cloth books, bought or home- 
 made, are the best thing that they can have. Third, they 
 should be taught to love books and use them, by giving them 
 books which they can enjoy — child's books, toy books, so thej 
 are pure and genial in matter and manner. We should sympa 
 thize with the child's love of the impossible, of the marvellous, 
 the amusing. " Fairy Tales," and " Mother Goose," the dear 
 old toy books of " Dame Crumb," and " Mother Hubbard," and 
 " Jack, the Giant-Killer," and " Red Riding Hood," are a part 
 of the blissful inheritance of childhood. 
 
 With what tender love does Hugh Miller in his " Schools and 
 Schoolmasters " speak of his first library, kept in a " nine-inch 
 square birch-bark box." Here he had "Aladdin ; or. The Won- 
 derful Lamp," " Sinbad, the Sailor," "Jack and the Bean-Stalk," 
 " Beauty and the Beast." " And by these I passed on, without 
 being conscious of break or line of division, to books on which 
 the learned are content to write commentaries and dissertations, 
 but which I found to be quite as nice children's books as any 
 others." So Dickens adds his testimony in his " Recollections 
 of My Christmas-Tree : " " Jack Beanstalk — how noble, with his 
 sword of sharpness and his shoes of swiftness! Little Red 
 Riding Hood comes to me one Christmas-Eve to give me infor- 
 mation of the cruelty and treachery of that dissembling Wolf 
 which ate her Grandmother! She was my first-love. Hushl 
 Nov not Robin Hood, not Valentine, not the Yellow Dwarf: I 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 197 
 
 have passed him and all Mother Bunch's wonders without men- 
 tion; but an Eastern King, with glittering scimitar and turban. 
 It is the setting in of the bright 'Arabian Nights.' Oh, now all 
 common things become uncommon and enchanted to me! " 
 
 Children cannot always be reading what we are pleased to 
 call useful books. They have their place, but they are a part, and 
 not the whole. And how do we know that these crude and 
 embryonic books do not have their own great use and fitness, 
 assimilating with the child's crude and embryonic powers? 
 Children should have Sabbath books. The Bible should have its 
 stories pointed out for their reading. Give the young child the 
 Bible : he stumbles on the tenth chapter of Genesis, invaluable 
 to Science ; upon a Psalm which, to the old tried heart, is as 
 water from Bethlehem's Well, or on marvellous Hebrews, or 
 knotty Romans, or the genealogical chapters in Chronicles, and 
 he says in his heart that it is a terribly dull, hard book; and 
 how can you expect him to like it? How can you, indeed? 
 Why did you not give him that marvel tale of Samson, or that 
 sweet romance of Ruth, or the wonder-book of Jonah on the 
 sea, or the thrilling episodes in the life of Daniel, or the pathetic 
 history of Joseph, or, best of all, the story of a Babe in a 
 manger? He had a right to know what God put there/or him; 
 to read of the dead girl raised to life, and the young man 
 Kitting upon his bier, or the prodigal who came to himself 
 
 There is no child who will not hungrily take to " Pilgrims' 
 Progress." Buy a handsome copy, with plenty of pictures of 
 Pilgrim armed, of the giants, of great Apollyon " straddling quite 
 over the way," of lions, of the four boys, of Captain Greatheart 
 slaying robbers. Keep this glorious book for Sundays, and 
 instead of a fretting after " to-morrow," and a restlessness and 
 riot, the child will wish two Sundays came in a week. So there 
 is the story of the Holy War to captivate the heart of old or 
 voimg. Plenty of good Sunday reading can and should be 
 
198 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 found ; stories of missionary heroism, tales of Huguenot, Covft 
 nanter and Waldensian, lives well told of the champions of Chris- 
 tendom, of Luther, full of force and fire, of Knox, unknown to 
 fear, of zealous Calvin and tender Melancthon. Plenty is there 
 of attractive and worthy, without being reduced to buy the 
 moral dish-water trash, about good boys who stole apples, oi 
 maidens who wind off yards of moral sentiments, and end by 
 making a splendid marriage. 
 
 As the children grow older the toy-books yield to histories, 
 travels, explorations, and the fairy tales of science. Give them 
 books on insects, on birds, on flowers, on shells, and they will 
 learn to keep their eyes open, and compare what they see with 
 what they read. This reminds me of Helen's little Tom. She 
 sent him to school to keep him out of mischief, and he learned 
 to read. He might possibly have fallen into a ruinous line of 
 dime novels and flash papers, had not Hester made up her mind 
 that Tom had a taste for natural sciences. To her father's 
 private horror, she took Tom home with her for a week, and 
 mtroduced him to the museum, and then as he wanted a museum, 
 and said his three younger sisters tore up all his things, Hester 
 presented him with a mite of a room behind her laundry, where 
 he was to put up shelves and make a museum. Mr. Nugent 
 took Tom out on some of his long tramps, made in connection 
 with his scientific writing, and Tom astounded his father with a 
 demand for " money to buy books about bugs and things." 
 Frank, glad to have the child interested, gave him the money to 
 lay out under Hester's supervision, and I really believe the 
 youngster's newly acquired fondness for natural science will be 
 the making of him. We all of us save for him any interesting 
 fact or anecdote connected with the theme which he is pursuing. 
 How many boys there are who could be brought off the streets, 
 and out of demoralizing society and vicious readings by having 
 their minds turned to some subject of interest, having books 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. I99 
 
 suited to some taste which they develop, and finding that their 
 own interests and ideas are worthy of the attention of grown 
 people ! 
 
 This last winter we had in our village a Literary Society, com- 
 posed of young and old from the village and county round. 
 The Wintons, the Burrs, my three nieces, Cousin Ann's two 
 married sons and their wives, Sarah, Mary Watkins and her 
 husband, and others. It was very enjoyable; we read; we talked 
 on subjects started by our reading; we purchased a few volumes 
 in partnership ; we took a magazine ; we had essays on important 
 themes. One of these was by Hester, on the subject of — 
 
 WHAT TO READ. 
 
 Of all the influences about us in the present age, perhaps none is so 
 largely educative as that of reading : the press even distances the pul- 
 pit in its control over the minds of men ; the paper and the pamphlet 
 go where the pastor and preacher cannot find their way. At every 
 street corner, and a dozen times along every block of houses, the 
 written word appears to the eye. The child from its cradle is sur- 
 rounded with some kind of literature. Our education, whether we 
 will or not, goes on with all the growing years, and is in them chiefly 
 remitted to ourselves. And we shall find when all the years are tol-d, 
 that nothing has so moulded and fashioned our inner lives — so made 
 us what in the end we shall be — as reading. 
 
 Read we must and will ; it is the passion of the present age. And 
 here come up certain questions: What to read? What not to read? 
 When to read? How to read? "Why, we all know that!" say 
 Thomas and Bertha. Dearly beloved, I doubt it ; it is also even to 
 be doubted whether your respected parents have considered it a grand 
 part of their duty to give you careful instruction on these points. 
 
 "Read, Thomas, or you will be considered a fool," says father. 
 "Bertha, why rt'^ you read such trash?" says mother. Or, when' 
 Thomas and Bertha are fourteen or fifteen, the parents take the matter 
 in hand, and begin to form the young people's taste. Alas ! they have 
 seen and read books now for years, and their taste is pretty well 
 formed, or deformed, already. 
 
 What to read ? We say nothing now of the Inspired Book — but 
 answer : Let the first reading be of History ; this lays in the mind a 
 solid foundation of thinking, judging, and comparing; history belongs 
 
200 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 to the domain of the true, and as truth is fundamental to all that ia 
 good and worthy of possessing, history should be read, not merely 
 until the mind is in possession of certain facts, but until it has gained 
 a bent for sound reading. A young child, given historic reading from 
 its first acquaintance with books, will always love that reading, and 
 develop a literary taste : those whose taste has been vitiated so that 
 they " dislike history," can restore the natural taste for the true by a 
 faithful course of twelve months' historic reading. 
 
 Next after history, you should read Biography. You have read of 
 great events, and mighty world-changes : read now of their actors. 
 Happy the child to whom somewise parent has given "Plutarch's 
 Lives!" Read the lives of heroes, literati, philosophers, philan- 
 thropists, those masters of the world, who have made history by the 
 out-living of their individualities. 
 
 And now when you read of the vicissitudes of the world, and of 
 the inhabitants of the world, you need to know much of the world 
 itself. Its zones and its productions, its tempests, its harvests, its 
 convulsions, its sterility, have done much to make or mar the fortunes 
 of its children. Read travels. Oh, glorious possibilities opened to us 
 in books of travel ! We follow Kan,e into Northern seas ; we rush 
 with Irving along the untrodden West ; we plunge with Livingstone 
 into tne heart of Africa ; we march through grim Kamtschatka ; we 
 luxuriate in fair islands of the Southern Main. China opens to us its 
 immense domain, and its singular promise. India reveals worlds of 
 mystery. Along the sands of Arabia, and in stony deserts, we follow 
 where once moved a pillar of cloud and flame. Tell me, are you so 
 depraved in taste as not to enjoy travels ? 
 
 Twin to this line of reading stands the literature of exploration. 
 The earth no longer hides her dead cities: Pompeii and Nineveh, 
 Karnak and Babylon, Mycenje and Heliopolis ; Sicily and Syria and 
 Etruria give up the story of the past. Believe me, it is more interest- 
 ing than Mrs. Southworth or the "Ladies' Journal of Fashion!" 
 
 And now, lest all this solid reading make you plodding, and your 
 mental motion cumbersome, sit at the feet of the world's earliest and 
 sweetest teachers, the poets. Do not try at first Chaucer, Spenser, or 
 Milton : to understand them well, to take them to your heart, you 
 must have read the traditionary lore of Persia and Arabia, and Italy 
 and Greece, the fairy tales of Saxon lands. Read Tennyson, and 
 Longfellow, and Bryant and Jean Ingelow, and Whittier and Words- 
 worth — and — but time would fail to tell of Campbell and Coleridge 
 and Scott, and many more — and after these you can rise to the sub- 
 limer heights of Shakespeare and Milton, and the elder two. 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 201 
 
 Thus, by easy and blissful steps, you will find your mind fitted for 
 Rie serene plains of critical thought, where dwell the greater essp.yists 
 ' — and you can read Lamb and Addison and Macaulay, and many 
 more who will fascinate you by the harmony of their speech, the just- 
 ness, quaintness, and beauty of their thought. Now the mind is well 
 in training, and it enters lovely avenues open on every side, the walks 
 of the world of science, and reads of the wonders of the flower,' the 
 treasures of the sea, and the stories of the stones, and the marvels of 
 insect life, the romance of the birds of the air. 
 
 But in all this where is the story, the novel, the delight of modern 
 yuuth? Youth should stand on the threshold of manhood and 
 womanhood, having read something of each of these many things, 
 before the novel is reached. And now, at last, when history has 
 given you truth as a basis of judgment, when biography has instructed 
 you in human nature, and travels have taught you in scenery, and 
 poetry has moulded you in sentiment, and criticism has guided you 
 in discernment, now you are at last able to reject the bad and 
 choose the good, you will find your book your Mentor, not your 
 Circe ; take then the hand of the masters in the novel, and enter 
 the charmed circle of romance. Read few novels by fewer authors, 
 ivnd read these often. Don't make friends with the whole throng of 
 light literature specimens ; take the books of the great brains, the 
 criterions of novel-writing; take the novels that are prose epics — 
 the kind that in your unread childhood you would have dashed down 
 as dry ! Why not mention the magazines and the weekly journals ? 
 Simply because these genii of our firesides include in themselves, in 
 their best varieties, all the departments of reading that we have 
 described. 
 
 But hark you : there is one Book which is alone a library in 
 itself. He who has not read and re-read the English Bible knows 
 nothing of English literature. There is history, there lie biography, 
 and travels, and philosophy, and poetry, and depths of science, and 
 sweetest romances of youth and love and adventure, that have the 
 added glory of being true. This Bible is a standard of pure taste ; 
 it is a measure and model of the English tongue ; more than any- 
 thing else that has been written it permeates all literature ; if we 
 fail to read it, to study it, to possess it — then fairest similes, and 
 choicest allusions, and aptest quotations in poet and essayist and 
 novelist and historian fall unapprehended upon our stupid brains. 
 And I mention this to you simply as an intellectual point, without 
 referring to the fact that here flow, as in a blessed fountain, the 
 Mfe- currents of the soul. 
 
202 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 We were all greatly pleased with this little essay, and we 
 began at once to discuss what copies we possessed of such 
 books as we had been recommended to read, or how far we had 
 already pursued the line of reading indicated. We had oui 
 meeting that evening out at Fred's farm-house, and Fred sug- 
 gested that Hester had scarcely dwelt as she might on the need 
 of reading in the line of our business or work. Fred thought 
 that much of the reading of each person who has a business 
 should be about that business. He must read other things for 
 rest, recreation, or general information ; but he must read mainly 
 in the line of his own duties. A lawyer should read law, histories 
 of famous cases, the eloquent speeches and pleas of famous 
 counsellors and pleaders, the biographies of the leaders of his 
 profession. So the physician, and the minister, and the artist 
 must read in their own line ; so the merchant should read of 
 commerce, manufactures, of leading merchants, and learn by 
 their failure and success. The farmer must read books on 
 farming, on soils, on fowls, domestic animals, horticulture. 
 Fred thought he had made or saved hundreds of dollars by 
 b.uying books on these subjects, subscribing for magazines or 
 journals, and taking and reading the daily and weekly papers. 
 He showed us four scrap-books, begun when he was a boy — one 
 marked Grains, another Fruit, another Flowers and Vegetables, 
 and the last Fowls. In these, each subject was alphabetically 
 divided, and in each division he put down items cut from maga- 
 zines or papers on that subject. He said that they were inval- 
 uable to him, and also a great help to his farm-hands, who read 
 them and availed themselves of the hints therein contained. " I 
 don't follow all I read," said Fred ; " I use my judgment and 
 experience ; nor would I like a fool decry ' book-farming,' because 
 now-a-days all that is worth knowing has got into print, and he 
 who does anything worth the doing is following, whether he 
 knows it or not, what is contained somewhere in a book." 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 203 
 
 Among those younger members of the society who took an 
 especial interest in what Hester had asserted to be proper read 
 ing were Mrs. Black's two younger children, Thomas and his 
 sister Belinda. They said they had never heard anything of the 
 kind before ; that the reading advised was not at all what they 
 had pursued, and they meant to make an entire change. Their 
 frank interest pleased Hester, and she invited them to come and 
 see her library, and she also offered to help them make out a 
 book-list. Her husband, Dr. Nugent, said privately to hei that 
 they quite as much needed an Index Expurgatcrius, and that 
 she should expound to them what not to read. Whether i' was 
 because of this hint, or of our young friends' innumerable ques- 
 tions, I cannot tell ; but Hester did write them a letter on What 
 Not to Read, and they were much pleased with it and brought 
 it for me to see. It ran thus : 
 
 Dear Thomas and Bei^nda: 
 
 It was my examination of your book-shelves, my glance at the 
 volumes in your hands last evening, my look at the centre-table where 
 your favorite works lie, that impelled me to write to you about whal 
 not to read. The press, dear children, has, like other good things, 
 been largely subsidized by the devil. One tells 'you to read poetry, 
 and then there are poets, as Byron and Swineburn, whom you should 
 not read ; and Burns, for part of whose works you will be better, for 
 part worse. Some novels are our teachers, some our ' destroyers ; 
 history is commended to you, and some histories are written in the 
 interests of superstition, infidelity, or vice. What shall you do? 
 Let us have a few rules for our guidance, that we may not gather 
 poisons, nor flowers and fruit whereof worms have eaten out the 
 heart. 
 
 Doubtless we never forget : we may think that we forget, but, as in 
 the palimpsest, the successive writings are only overlaid : they remain 
 and may start into clearness. The mind is a phonograph which shall 
 keep and echo the impressions of the past. Books form in us habits 
 of thought which shall live forever with us. Then if oar reading is 
 to terminate on the useless or the dangerous, it will be a thousand 
 pities that we ever learned to read. 
 
 To begin, then : never read that which, instead of adding to^ takes 
 
204 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 from your mental or spiritual strength. Do not let your reading be 
 a succession of examples in subtraction, but in addition to your 
 inner life. Never read a book that robs you of earnestness, nor of 
 that high quality of reverence, without which there can be no truly 
 elevated character. Never read anything which in one whit robs you 
 oi purity, for it is only the pure in heart who shall see God, Never 
 read what you are ashamed to be seen reading ; the instinct to hidt 
 is your heart's own sentence of condemnation. But even what is 
 suitable to read at one time is unsuitable at another. Thus you are at 
 school, and you are pursuing daily a certain line of studies. There- 
 fore, my children, when you refresh your minds by reading, you should 
 read in the line of your studies. Let us suppose that you are old 
 enough, and well cultivated enough to read Thackeray, or George 
 Elliot, or William Black ; yet if you read these in term time, they 
 fascinate and distract your mind from your scholarly duties. Leave, 
 therefore, these books for vacation, and during the school months 
 read history, travels, biography, science. Let the poetry and the 
 romance go until the holiday. 
 
 Do not on Sabbath read those secular books that may be lawful on 
 other days. Read on the holy day those works which shall help you 
 in the holy life. Don't beguile yourself, Belinda, with a religious 
 viovel, a piece of namby-pamby stuff, which shall not only bring you 
 no nigher heaven on Sunday, but shall unfit you to study logic on 
 Monday. No moral dish-water for you, my children ! Consider also 
 that the morning finds us with the impressions of the night before. 
 So do not let us close with reluctance at midnight on Saturday some 
 entrancing book that we would not read on Sabbath; its image will 
 be projected on our minds during many of the sacred hours, fore- 
 stalling other and higher impressions. Be heedful also never to read 
 v/hat is popularly called "stuff" or poor writing, even though it may 
 have no evil inculcations, or possibly may aim at a certain moral 
 bearing. There is plenty of good writing, standard writing, to be 
 found for the asking, and a production of low literary character 
 weakens the mind. Do not, like " Silas Wegg " and " Mr. Venus,' 
 indulge in "floating your powerful minds on tea." Fix it firmly in 
 your brains that the Bible is the measure of excellence ; that the 
 Creator of the mind produced a book exactly suited for the nurture 
 Df the mind. And, therefore, carefully eschew every work that 
 openly or covertly depreciates the Scriptures ; whether it cavils at the 
 inspirations, or the statements, or the doctrines of the Bible, when- 
 ever // cavils do you condemn and drop it. Some works cry " Hail, 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 205 
 
 Master ! " on the first page, give a Judas-kiss on tlie second, and on 
 the third you see the shadow of the Roman officers looming behind. 
 Keep your eyes open to danger; don't be lured on hidden rocks by 
 sirens' songs. The easy faith of youth says : " a book? then a good." 
 Not always; it may be, in its " Sunday-best" green, blue or gold, a 
 garb of light; but look warily: if there is a cloven foot under tb<- 
 blue, or a tail peeping out behind, drop it. 
 
 Don't read from curiosity what good people have condemned. 
 Did you say, Thomas, that you had heard the book was not good, 
 but you wanted to read for yourself, and see if it were bad, and how 
 it was bad? This is not a brave judgment trying all things; this is 
 curiosity and a mean love of evil. Better trust these other people who 
 condemn ; they were made before you were. I do not know that you 
 are so eager to,try if arsenic and vitriol are dangerous, and how they 
 are dangerous. We show our best judgment, my children, by taking 
 some things on trust. The world is wide, and we cannot investigate 
 everything ; a caterpillar on a grape-leaf can investigate the whole of 
 his domain, but the eagle cannot try every field of air. And lastly 
 don't read everything you see, in an insane desire to be called a great 
 reader; be rather a thorough, careful reader. Don't read anything 
 just because you "happened to pick it up," but read what there is a 
 reasonable prospect of finding worth reading. 
 
 Your Friend, Hester Nugent. 
 
 At our next meeting of the Literary Society, which at this 
 time was held at Helen's, an interesting discussion arose as to 
 when to read. It happened to be started by the Blacks, who had 
 usually been silent members of the band. Mrs. Winton is sec- 
 retary, and in reading the report of the last meeting she gave a 
 brief resume of Hester's essay. This, when the evening was 
 open for discussions, led to the following appeal to Hester, from, 
 the youngest Miss Black : 
 
 " You have given me," says Belinda, with a little pout, " such 
 an enormous amount of reading to do, and now I should just 
 like to know when I am ever to accomplish it. My day has only 
 twenty-four hours in it, and half of them are night." 
 
 " Exactly, my Belinda ; I was on the very point of telling you 
 When to Read." said Hester, smiling. " Make a habit of read 
 14 
 
206 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ing, and read whenever you can. Count that day lost when some 
 moments have not been snatched for reading; and you will 
 find this snatching for moments a greater thing than it seems at 
 first sight. After any period of years, if you look back, you will 
 find that much of your most valuable reading has been done at 
 desultory moments, when you might have done nothing at all. 
 Let me be practical : you go to call upon a friend ; you find that 
 she will see you ' in a few minutes.' Don't waste that few min- 
 utes — they may grow to ten — in looking at your gloves or 
 poking your parasol-top into the carpet, but take a book. All 
 parlors should have books in them, and light enough by at least 
 one window to see to read them. A bookless parlor is a howl- 
 ing wilderness ; books — standard books — are more important in 
 furnishing a parlor than card-baskets, vases and knick-knacks of 
 all sorts. Take up a book while you wait, and spend your time 
 in reading. Perhaps your book is a blue-and-gold Tennyson; 
 and in that waiting space you have laid up a jewel in memory's 
 treasures. 
 
 "' I hold it truth with him who sings 
 To one sweet harp of divers tones. 
 That men may rise on stepping stones 
 Of their dead selves to higher things. 
 
 " ' But who can so forecast the years, 
 Or find in grief a joy to match. 
 Or reach a hand through time to catch 
 
 The far-off interest of tears ? ' 
 
 Or possibly, some one has left 'Trench's Study of Words' 
 within reach, and you can set your brain at work upon the far- 
 reaching proposition, that ' language is fossil history.' " 
 
 Here Hester paused, feeling that she was occupying too much 
 time, but there was a unanimous cry for her to proceed with the 
 discussion of this question. It was held by Mrs. Burr that it 
 was the very theme belonging to the evening, and likely to be 
 the most useful. And as Hester was still reluctant, it was 
 cnoved, seconded and voted that fifteen minutes were to be spent 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 207 
 
 in hearing Mrs. Nugent explain When to Read. As she could 
 no longer decline with a good grace, Hester proceeded, still 
 addressing herself to Belinda Black. 
 
 "Again suppose, Belinda, that you are ready to go out walk, 
 ing, and somebody keeps you waiting. Now, if you have the 
 habit of reading, instead of drumming on the window, and char 
 acterizing 'somebody' as 'horrid,' you look for that friend, 
 that ' other self,' of all spare moments, a book ; and if by chance 
 it is a volume of Jean Ingelow, for poets come most easily to 
 hand in odd hours, and you read one of that sweet singer's 
 dainty bits of still-life painting — of brown butterflies wavering 
 over beds of golden-rod, of dappled shadows flitting over daisy- 
 broidered meads, of flushes of purple heather on a sunny rise, 
 then you go out to walk with eyes awakened to beauty, and 
 heart in harmony with nature, alert to catch the loveliness of 
 flower-set waysides, of lichen-spotted rocks, of vines rioting over 
 gray fences. If perchance you might have indulged in folly or 
 gossip, now you, ' in the love of Nature, hold communion with 
 her visible forms.' Have this habit of reading, and you will not 
 suffer your mind to be engrossed with trifles. If reading 
 becomes a second nature to you, a thing without which you can- 
 not live, you will not permit your time to be so taken up bead- 
 ing jackets, or braiding cloaks, or embroidering handkerchiefs — 
 things which in ten years will be forgotten or remembered only 
 as ridiculous — that you have no time for gathering into your 
 own life the garnered treasures of those intellectual kings, who 
 have been ruling it in the world of thought since time began. 
 More than any other, this habit of reading can make us happy 
 and independent, and it goes far in saving us from being swept 
 away in a round of folly, which we name ' fashionable life.' " 
 
 " But, dear Belinda, do not consider that you have done your 
 whole duty as a reading person, when you pick up a book in 
 5pare moments. You must systematize your work and you/ 
 
208 ' THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 pleasures, so that you shall have solid hours for reading. Some 
 books, they are the weighty and valuable ones generally, will 
 not bear to be read in hasty snatches: you must devote to theii 
 perusal uninterrupted seasons. Morning hours are golden hours 
 for reading; the brain is fresh from sleep; the body is rested; 
 here let me say to you, my dear girl, that that day is ill spent 
 when the morning does not have some quiet space for reading, 
 your Bible, and for prayer; this sanctifies the day; it puts our 
 hours at interest with God, and then he makes them bring forth 
 with usury. Try by system in all your arrangements to get a 
 bright morning hour or two for reading. Evening is another 
 excellent opportunity; our work is done; nothing lies before us 
 but to seek our rest ; hurry and excitement are over for the 
 time being; with good print and a good light, here is a happy 
 space for reading. Be careful, then, that you do not make 
 engagements for every evening in the week ; keep one or two 
 for reading ; and here I would suggest that Saturday evening is 
 an especial time to use in the study of works bearing on the 
 Bible; jvork on the Sabbath-school lesson; read books or short 
 articles that explain it; let 'Biblical Geography' or 'Antiquities,' 
 'Josephus,' 'Rawlinson's Illustrations of the Old Testament,' 
 form your library for Saturday night. 
 
 " Try these rules for a year, Bertha, and no one will be as 
 surprised as yourself at the amount of reading v?hich you wil) 
 have been able to do, and no one will be so greatly benefited." 
 
 We were all well pleased with these observations. 
 
 Miriam said : " I have always found that m every day there 
 are more minutes , for reading than at first thought we should 
 expect. During the first two years of my housekeeping, I 
 snatched many minutes for reading while I was cooking my 
 dinner, I kept a book on the kitchen shelf, and 1 had a little 
 rocking-chair by the window, and could comfortably read -many 
 pages in time, which otherwise would have gone by idly. One 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 209 
 
 ot' my neighbors greatly condemned this practice; she said I 
 would have under-doile beef, and watery potatoes, and burned 
 soup, if I allowed books in the kitchen, but her prophecy never 
 proved true. I asked her if she never baked a loaf of bread, 
 made a pot of soup, and ironed a shirt all at the same time. She 
 admitted that she did-, but said that was not a parallel case. I 
 could not keep dinner and books in mind, as well as ironing 
 and dinner. But I knew I could." 
 
 I was in hopes when we started our Literary Society that it 
 would have a good effect upon us all ; that it would destroy 
 gossip and slander, by giving us useful and popular subjects of 
 conversation ; that it would encourage studiousness and love of 
 reading in the young; substitute improving for frivolous pleas- 
 ures, and animate our young mothers to instruct their own 
 minds, ana so become more valuable teachers for their children, 
 more companionable wives, and more intelligent hostesses. I 
 have not been disappointed in my expectations ; I find an interest 
 awakening in sound, standard literature, a desire to improve 
 time, and a new contempt for vapid or flashy reading. Helen 
 js waking up very much to the need and advantage of reading. 
 She invited Hester and myself to spend an afternoon with her, 
 and she and Hester had some improving conversation as to How 
 ,0 Read. I shall set down the principal points which Hester 
 ;nade on this subject 
 
 Helen said : " I have been trying, Hester, to put into practice 
 what you suggested about snatching time for reading. I feel 
 myself slipping behind the age, knowing little of current topics 
 or new discoveries: a dull entertainer for my husband, and un- 
 able to answer a tenth part of my children's questions. So I 
 am resolved to read more, and with my household cares I must 
 do it by snatches. Now how shall I tuni these odd moments 
 for reading to good account ? I read, and it does not profit me 
 weiy much: I forget I read, and then what I read runs out of 
 
210 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 my mind like water out of a sieve. What am I to do? How 
 shall I read?" 
 
 "Helen, my dear," said Hester, "you are an admirable pupil; 
 you hear, and obey, and develop new problems for yourself. 
 Let me give you two or three short rules concerning how to 
 read. Merely to hold a book and assort in your mind certain 
 letters is not reading. 
 
 " First : read with fixed attention. If you are only reading for 
 five minutes, be capable for that five minutes of being completely 
 absorbed in what you peruse. If you are reading while you are 
 waiting for dinner, do not read wondering ' why that bell don't 
 ring,' or whether the roast will be beef or lamb. If you are 
 reading, because you have a habit of reading and carry a book 
 in your pocket, at your dressmaker's, while you are waiting for 
 her to fit your next gown, don't read, let us say, Irving, on the 
 ' Royal Poet of Scotland,' and muse with half your mind whether 
 the dressmaker will cut your train long enough, your sleeves 
 tight enough, and your basque a proper shape. Read while you 
 read; let whatever your mind applies itself to be seized with so 
 firm a grasp that thenceforth it is a part of itself. School your- 
 self in this : all good habits are the result of persistent discipline. 
 Let us say that you read for ten minutes, in ' Rawlinson's Man- 
 ual,' on the subject of Phoenicia. You close the book; you 
 have no realizing sense of those old Phoenicians; they are to 
 you hardly a name. Open again your book; apply yourself 
 again for ten minutes to those same pages, and if you must 
 renew that process for ten consecutive days, be resolute enough 
 to continue it; and when at last those fathers of ancient mariners, 
 with their line of seaboard cities, the busy trade of Zidon, the 
 splendid merchant-kings of Tyre, the glory of Carthage hum- 
 ming with its industries, are yours, an inalienable mental prop- 
 erty, you will have learned how to conquer inattention, you will 
 have mastered your own mind, you will have acquired one 
 method of ruling your spirit. 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 211 
 
 " To read is not merely to run the eye over certain combina- 
 tions of the alphabet : to read is to take a book and be so attent 
 upon it that it becomes your own mental property. You can 
 analyze it, reason upon it, add to it from other sources, make it 
 part of yourself 
 
 " Learn all you can about the authors whose books you read: 
 this will give you a vital interest in your books, and help them to 
 become your friends. Read with sympathy. Throw yourself 
 into the age and race of which you read, make the past present^ 
 and the distant near ; become, for the time being, part of what 
 you are reading. Do not take up the ' Canterbury Tales ' and 
 read it with the pervading sense of a modern rocking-chair, an 
 anthracite fire, a new dress with knife-pleatings on the upper 
 ikirt, and the near approach of a modern dinner. But let the 
 opening of the book be as the chariots of Amminadab, carrying 
 you back to England's brawling transition age, Becket's tomb a 
 real shrine, the journey thither a giant undertaking and beset 
 with real dangers; hear that burly miller drunk and piping; see 
 the pale scholar, with his Lollard faith, peep under the hood of 
 the pretty prioress, a flirt in holy orders ; laugh with the coarse, 
 vain, good-natured wife of Both ; behold the Taberd Inn, its sign 
 a knight's wrought cloak, its table deal-boards laid on trestles, 
 its guest-room the great kitchen, with a fire roaring up the 
 chimney, and the joint roasting before it on the spit. 
 
 " If you read of Italy, let go your hold on bustling, modern 
 America with its practicalities, and drift away to Tuscan olive 
 slopes and purple vineyards, hills veiled in a blue haze, silver- 
 threaded Arno sliding seaward, and the great, blue Mediterra- 
 nean embracing all. Read with sympathy, and you will read 
 well. If a work is not worth the trouble of studying sympa 
 thetically its age, its race, its author and its subject-matter, then 
 it is not worth the trouble of reading. 
 
 •' Have also a habit of turning over in your mind and review- 
 
212 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ing your mental treasures. You come upon some striking 
 thought in Macaulay, and you recall how Froude, or Burton, 
 or Bancroft, or Motley, illustrated the Same thought, or referred 
 to the same period. From what fountain-head did the poet 
 draw this draught of elixir? Take the trouble to compare, to 
 criticise, to generalize ; feel when you are reading anything 
 that you are your own steward, and that you will call yourself 
 to account some day for these precious things that you are 
 putting in trust. 
 
 " Don't be discouraged, Helen, if you forget, and if you can- 
 not comprehend, and if you mingle things which do not belong 
 together. If I am not mistaken, you learned to sew by picking 
 out and ' doing over' many a long seam. Oh, that doing over! 
 How vexatious it was ! But it was the parent of all those 
 beautiful dexterously set stitches, which now make you a pattern 
 seamstress. And so, child, go over your reading. Time is not 
 lost if you go over and over again the same thing, if it is a thing 
 worth the going over, and if you are acquiring good mental 
 habits, which shall hereafter make one reading enough." 
 
 These various suggestions as to how to read were called forth 
 one after another by Helen's inquiries and remarks ; but as 
 they furnish, as a whole, a good set of rules for reading in a 
 manner to improve, I have set them solidly together. 
 
 The more I consider the subject, the more am I struck with 
 the important part which books play in our lives. 
 
 I was reading lately a -work by Hugh Miller, and I was 
 especially impressed by his remark, that he had found among 
 his fellow-workmen that few men who knew how to read 
 became criminals or paupers as compared with the men who did 
 not know how to read ; while he could recall almost no instance 
 in which a man, who was fond of good reading, became either a 
 criminal or a pauper. This is a very strong testimony to the 
 morally preservative power of reading, and should encourage 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 213 
 
 parents to provide their children Hberally with proper, useful 
 and entertaining books, even if to do this they must work 
 harder, or give them plainer clothes. I have long made a 
 practice of choosing books for my holiday and birthday gifts 
 to my little friends. How much they are to be preferred to 
 noisy toys ! Their effect upon the child is better, they are 
 more comfortable in the household, and a well-taught child will 
 keep them to add to the happiness of its younger brothers and 
 sisters. 
 
 The moulding influence of books upon our minds is illus- 
 trated by some remarks yf Dr. Guthrie's about the Book of 
 Proverbs. In speaking of education among the Scotch in his 
 childhood, he remarks: 
 
 "Having learned our letters and some small syllables, we 
 were at once passed into the Book of Proverbs. In crfden time 
 this was the universal custom in all the common schools in 
 Scotland: a custom that should never have been abandoned. 
 That book is without a rival for beginners, containing quite a 
 repertory of monosyllables, and pure Saxon-English undefiled. 
 . . While learning the Art of Reading by the Book of Proverbs, 
 Vve had our minds stored with the highest moral truths, and by 
 f r.ge advices applicable to all ages and departments in life ; the 
 mind while it was supple received a bent in a direction largely 
 favorable to future well-doing and success. The patience, 
 prudence, forethought and economy which used to characterize 
 Scotchmen — giving occasion to the saying, 'a canny Scot' — by 
 which they were able so often to rise in the world, and distance 
 competitors in the race of life, were, to a large extent, due to their 
 being thus ingrained in youth and childhood with the practical 
 wisdom enshrined in the Book of Proverbs." 
 
 The high testimony thus given to the permanently moulding 
 and impressing effect of the study of this inspired Book of 
 Proverbs could in a measure be borne to all good books, In 
 
214 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 them we come in contact with good deeds, good men and noble 
 thoughts; we are taught to study understandingly the works 
 of God ; good moves on in them before us to perfect consum- 
 mation, and evil is portrayed in its course to shame, loss and 
 sorrow; we learn to choose the good, and eschew the evil. 
 
 I have heard the morality and thrift of the Icelanders attributed 
 in a large measure to their love of books. Each family owns a 
 few volumes which are read and re-read, and passed from hand 
 to hand. They are a reading people. Their long, cold winters 
 afford almost unbroken time for cultivation of their minds, and 
 the result is a simple, studious, laborious, contented people. In 
 travelling in this country, I have noticed that those working- 
 people of our foreign population, especially among miners who 
 are given to books and study, live better, have better houses, 
 clothes and position in society, than those who spend their 
 leisure time in gossip or amusements. The Welsh have nearly 
 all of them a taste for reading, and a shelf of books in their own 
 houses. The young people are trained to read in their leisure 
 hours, and to take part in their yearly Eisteddfodds, or Literary 
 Exhibitions ; and along with this taste for books you find the 
 Welsh miner well dressed, gentlemanly in his manners, pos- 
 sessor of bank-stock, and owner of his Home. 
 
 I picked up, this morning, a " Life of Seneca," and noted this 
 remark of his, concerning the education of children : " I would 
 prove to you what eager impulses our little scholars would have 
 toward all that is good, if any one would lead them on." What 
 is a better Leader in a good way than a good book ? The child 
 reads in silence : the eye conveys information to us even more 
 impressively than the ear. The child reads his book again and 
 again ; the story or the lesson is upon the page, unchangeable 
 in its form, to be referred to, reasoned upon, until it becomes a 
 part of the mind itself I was conversing the other day with 
 Mrs. Winton on the subject of choosing books for our families 
 She remarked: 
 
LITERATURE IN THE HOME. 215 
 
 " The little Aphis upon a leaf fills itself and grows like that on 
 which it feeds : so the mind, especially the young mind, fastens 
 upon its books, and they become part and parcel of itself Now- 
 a-days man might be described as a ' reading animal.' Our chil ■ 
 dren are born into a world full of printed matter : sooner or later 
 they are bound to read. If we do not attract the child toward 
 books by giving him those that are interesting, if we do not form 
 his taste for the pure and good in literature, he will, by-and-by, 
 be wheedled by strangers into reading dime novels and flash 
 papers, and what they call in England ' penny dreadfuls.' We 
 must inculcate sound doctrine concerning reading; we must 
 follow up this teaching by watching carefully over our children's 
 reading : it is a subject worthy our diligent investigation. A 
 child's temptations are many and greater than we in oiir middle- 
 aged assurance realize. Satan is prompt enough to sow evil 
 reading, illustrated with startling pictures, to beguile the mind 
 and corrupt the taste. We must also remember the homely 
 saying that ' an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure,' 
 and that a full cup cannot be filled fuller. From our children's 
 first Primers we must set ourselves to create in them a sound 
 and healthful taste that would loathe all poisons of the mind. 
 So, before long, as Plato tells us, the child ' praises and rejoices 
 over the good, and receives it into his soul, and becomes also 
 noble and good. He will justly blame and hate the bad now in 
 the days of his youth, even before he is able to know the. reason 
 of the thing; and when reason comes, he will recognize and 
 salute virtue as a friend with whom his education has long made 
 him acquainted.' " 
 
 Mrs. Burr, who was sitting with us, remarked : 
 
 "At this day it is easy to provide reading matter of a good 
 
 kind for our families. Books and magazines are abundant and 
 
 very cheap. Postage on printed matter is low, and publishers 
 
 will generally send their books by mail, post-paid. Expressage 
 
216 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 is carried in most parts of the country at a reasonable rate; 
 bookstores are established in all our towns and large villages, 
 while the extended publication of subscription-books now brings 
 numbers of our most important and valuable works to every 
 man's door. A very little self-denial in laying up a fund to pur- 
 chase such of these books as will be improving and attractive 
 to the whole family-circle, and useful to each one's especial 
 business, would be the means of furnishing the Home with varied 
 and useful reading, assuring its good taste and refinement, 
 promoting its comfort and its economies, making its older mem- 
 bers at once wise and genial, its juniors intelligent and contented, 
 its servants capable and respectable. A Home without books 
 is like a garden without flowers, like a forest without birds or 
 sunshine, like a house without furniture. Out of bookless homes 
 go the majority of the criminals, paupers, vagrants, maniacs and 
 chronic invalids, because the Home well supplied with books 
 has inmates whose leisure is well occupied, and not idle time for 
 Satan to fill with mischief; their minds are well stored, and not 
 left open to preying fancies to drive them mad, or to evil entice- 
 ments to make them wicked. They are people who know what 
 to do to keep themselves well or to cure themselves when ill ; 
 people who have learned how to practise economies to save 
 their money, and activities to earn more of it ; people who have 
 learned, from the records of the wide observation of many 
 intelligent writers, the consequences of things, the results of 
 diverse courses of conduct, and so do not dash heedlessly on 
 to ruin, but find guide-posts to point them on their way to 
 success in the Books in their Homes." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 
 /ViJNT SOPHRONIA's VIEWS OF PRESENCE OF MIND AND COURAGE 
 
 ' N looking over the volumes of my yearly journals, I find 
 frequent mention made of accidents that have occurred 
 in the neighborhood, and among my acquaintance, and 
 of the way in which these have been met. These 
 ■accidents are forever happening, generally as the result of care- 
 lessness or ignorance, but sometimes owing to circumstances 
 over which no one has control, and for which no one is to blame. 
 There is no family but may in any hour, either as a whole or in 
 one of its members, be brought into deadly peril. It is then a 
 serious question : are we cultivating in ourselves a frame of mind 
 v/hich shall enable us to meet these mischances and conquer 
 them? This power over accidents which renders us victors in 
 imminent dangers is called Presence of Mind. The phrase is 
 suggestive : it denotes a mind at home in all its powers — wits 
 which are not off, as people say, " wool-gathering," but which 
 are ready to act promptly ; a mind which does not greet danger 
 as some people wake up, dazed and stupid, and taking a long 
 while to know where they are, or what they are about. When, 
 a person lacks Presence of Mind, the appearance of danger, of 
 need, puts part of their minds to flight. They might but now 
 have been reasonable beings with all their faculties alert, but on 
 the appearance of trial, reason, courage, hope, skill, and quick 
 ness of thought fly from them, terror takes the reins and drives 
 
 like Phaeton in the chariot of the sun, overturning all things 
 
 (217) 
 
218 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Of this excellent quality, Presence of Mind, Dr. John Brown, of 
 Edinburgh, speaks thus : " Men have done some signal feat ol 
 presence of mind, and if asked how they did it, they do no* 
 know — they just did it. It was in fact done and then thought 
 of, not thought of and then done : in which case it would never 
 have been done at all. It is one of the highest powers of the 
 mind thus to act. It is done by an acquired instinct!' Here it 
 is not intended that in performing feats of Presence of Mind one 
 does not think, for these feats are the product of the most just 
 and logical thinking, which grasps at once an entire situation; 
 but the thinking is done with electric speed, so swiftly that one 
 is unconscious of its process. To act with Presence of Mind in 
 danger, requires in the first place courage, because v/ithout that, 
 fear will paralyze our thinking and acting ; there must be no' 
 parleying with fear. In the next place a soundly trained reason 
 is required ; we must have accustomed ourselves to act logically 
 and with foresight ; hope, faith, and self-forgetfulness are also ele- 
 ments in Presence of Mind ; in fact all that is good in the mind 
 seems to be present and in active operation, and all that is evil 
 is held in abeyance. These good powers act so instantaneously 
 and so perfectly that they seem rather the exhibition, for the 
 instant, of an unerring instinct; but, as Dr. Brown says, it is an 
 " acquired instinct :" the product of mental training, of rigid self- 
 control, of a proper cultivation of our powers. Now it is true 
 that some people seem gifted with more natural Presence of 
 Mind than others ; that is, those high faculties which make up 
 presence of mind are in them naturally of more active operation ; 
 thus they have naturally more courage and greater calmness 
 and less fear and excitement ; they are more reasonable and less 
 emotional. But because a person does not originally possess a 
 good degree of Presence of Mind is no reason why he should 
 not acquire it. People do not argu? that because they were born 
 poor they must always be poor; but rather, that, not havinp 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 219 
 
 inherited a fortune, they must with more industry set to work to 
 earn one. Every one should face the fact that he is morally 
 bound to have, and exhibit when needed, Presence of Mind; 
 because it may often happen that on the possession by him of 
 this quality, the life, or limb, or fortune of himself or his 
 neighbor may depend. A person of a responsible age, who sees 
 that he is wanting in a quality so valuable, should take shame 
 for the want, and then resolve to possess what he lacks; then 
 by cultivating courage, self-control and reasonable thought, by 
 resolutely repressing in emergencies, great or small, all excite- 
 ment and frenzy, he will become capable of acting wisely in any 
 difficulty. 
 
 I find a very false notion abroad, that, of course, men should 
 have presence of mind, and that without it they are cowards and 
 fit subjects of ridicule; but that it is vastly pretty for young ladies 
 to fall into a faint or a spasm of hysterics, or a state of insane 
 terror as soon as an occasion arises which demands a reason- 
 able exercise of their faculties. Young ladies make a virtue of 
 screaming at a spider; "having a chill at seeing a toad;" going 
 frantic at the sight of a wound, or of blood; boasting how 
 frightened they were at some trifle, and as soon as there is 
 some great emergency, when they should act, they become 
 helpless. 
 
 Mothers should feel it a very important part of the training 
 of their children to make them calm and reasonable in emer- 
 gencies, and helpful in accidents ; even young children can show 
 great presence of mind, and if this quality is to be seated firmly 
 in the mind, it should be cultivated from childhood. I remem- 
 ier when Mrs. Black's two youngest children were quite small 
 I called there, and it happened that a beetle was discovered 
 crawling on Belinda's apron; Mrs. Black screamed and made 
 ineffectual dashes at " the horrid bug," and Belinda howled like 
 a Comanche. I put the beetle out of the wmdow. 
 
220 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Dear Belinda is so sensitive," said Mrs. Black, proceeding to 
 pet her daughter ; " she is frantic at sight of a bug." 
 
 " I should prefer," I said, " to have her sensible, if sensitiveness 
 is to develop in that style. Is Tom also afraid of bugs?" 
 
 " Why, no : he's a boy" said Mrs. Black. 
 
 " But I cannot see if a bug is dangerous that it should show 
 my respect to his sex; if it is poisonous, it would poison him." 
 
 "Oh, it isn't poisonous, but — it looks so," said Mrs. Black. 
 
 " Well, has not Tom as good an eye for looks as his sister ? 
 If the bug is such a gorgon's head as to throw all beholders into 
 spasms, Tom should succumb, as well as Belinda. Excuse me, 
 Mrs. Black, I think the trouble is just here, that Belinda has 
 found out that you expect her to shriek at a ' bug,' and that you 
 regard it a genteel and praiseworthy act in her, quite becoming 
 an embryo lady; but Tom knows his boy-mates would laugh at 
 him soundly for such folly, and so shows common-sense. As 
 to the bug, it is not ugly at all : a beetle is beautiful." I saw 
 the beetle crawling on the window-ledge and took it in. "See 
 this shell ; the wing-covering is polished more highly than the 
 finest rosewood, and is of the exact aiir color which is now all 
 the rage; see how daintily these black spots are arranged upon 
 it; Belinda, look at its bright eyes; and this pair of curved claws 
 in' front of its mouth serve to seize and hold its food; pray, child, 
 what would you do without hands to hold your bread and but- 
 ter ? Look at its feet, with little prickly points to hold fast and 
 climb by; and see here, under these brown, shining shell wings 
 are a pair of flying wings, fine, delicate red silk, stretched on 
 tiny folding frames, as your fan on its sticks, or your parasol on 
 its wires. You could easily hurt it, if you were so cruel, but it 
 could not possibly hurt you. Now, touch its smooth back; now 
 put it out of doors." 
 
 Indeed, Belinda had become quite interested in the beetle, 
 and she has never feared one since ; but her training had culti- 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 221 
 
 vated frantic screaming at all creatures of the kind, and this 
 came out quite to her mother's mortification soon after. 
 
 There was a wedding at our church, by far the most splendid 
 wedding ever in our town. We were all invited, and Mrs. 
 Black in all her glory occupied a front seat, with little Belinda, 
 flounced and ribboned wonderfully. In the very midst of the 
 ceremony, Belinda espied a caterpillar crawling up her dress- 
 waist. Instead of picking it off, or asking her mother to do so, 
 she gave vent to unearthly yells, which startled every one in the 
 church, and stopped for the time the marriage ceremony. Mrs. 
 Black, in high terror, turned to see what ailed Belinda; plucked 
 off the intruder, and placed her hand over the youngster's 
 mouth. All in vain; if it became a daintily-dressed little lady 
 to howl at caterpillars, Miss Belinda meant to howl thoroughly; 
 she kicked and shrieked, and was carried out of the church 
 purple in the face, and her mother'was too much overcome by 
 excitement and mortification to return to the wedding party, 
 while the whole town was full of condemnations of "that 
 dread<Ml child." Why dreadful ? She was acting as she had been 
 trained to act. 
 
 Who could expect a child behaving in this way at seven to 
 display at thirteen the Presence of Mind of a little girl I saw 
 near Niagara ? She had been left in charge of the opening to the 
 natural curiosity called the Devil's Hole. On the counter were 
 a few jars of candy; she had with her a child of two and a half; 
 the rear door of the shop opened upon a wide table-rock which 
 overhung the river, boiling perhaps a hundred feet below, over 
 its stony bed, in prodigious rapids. While the girl was receiving 
 the fees of a party about to descend the ladders at the right of 
 the rock, the little child escaped by the back-door. The party 
 gone, the young nurse saw the child running toward the verge 
 oi the rock; to call, or to pursue, would ensure its destruction; 
 she grasped a jar of candy, and shouting "candy!" poured it? 
 15 
 
222 "^HE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 contents out upon the rock. The child looked back; not six 
 feet from destruction it paused; could not resist the lavished 
 sweets, and came skipping back to share them ! Here was 
 a fine instance of Presence of Mind : the self-control which 
 repressed the dangerous call or pursuit; the reason which seized 
 the temptation strongest to the fugitive, which in a flash argued 
 :iut the dangers and the probabilities of the case, and acted on 
 the instant, when to delay would have been death. 
 
 Cousin Ann has always been careful to cultivate Presence of 
 Mind in her children. Once when Fred was small I was there, 
 and the door of the kitchen stove falling open, the coals rolled 
 out upon the floor and began to burn. Fred, about three years 
 old, began to scream. " Hush ! " said Cousin Ann, calmly ; 
 " put the fire out, and scream afterwards!' She put a little pail 
 of water into his hand, and made him pour it over the fire, and 
 then gather the quenched coals on a shovel and put them in the 
 hearth. 
 
 " It is true," she said, " that the floor is a little more burned 
 than if I had left Fred to shriek and had poured on the water 
 myself; but I have taught him how to put out a fire, and that 
 in emergencies it is better to act than to cry!' 
 
 I replied : " The course you took is better for many reasons, 
 as I have noticed that, in families where Presence of Mind is 
 cultivated, accidents are few: for the calm, reasonable courage 
 which can meet an accident wisely, is the quality which will 
 usually prevent their occurring." 
 
 Cousin Ann and myself were going from her house into town 
 one day walking, when, as we passed a neighbor's farm-house, 
 a woman rushed out, crying, " Murder ! Murder ! he's dying." 
 Cousin Ann dashed in, and I followed her. On a chair, just 
 within the door, sat a fine young man ; an axe lay beside him ; 
 the floor was covered with blood which spouted from his leg 
 just below the knee. He had drawn up his trowser-ieg over 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 223 
 
 the knee, but nothing else had been done, and his face was 
 growing white as his life-blood poured away. On the instant 
 Cousin Ann snatched from the mother's waist her apron with 
 wide tape-strings, tore off a string, and proceeded to draw it 
 round the leg about an inch above the wound. 
 
 " Bring me a little stick, Sophronia! " she cried; and twisting 
 this under the tied tape, she turned it around so as to increase 
 the pressure and check the flow of blood. 
 
 In a moment or two the bleeding had stopped. The mother, 
 who had had presence of mind to do nothing but talk, wanted 
 to talk loudly. 
 
 " He was cutting wood ! He struck himself! Oh, me ! I 
 thought he was dead ! " 
 
 "Be quiet," said Cousin Ann, with authority. "Bathe his 
 face with vinegar and water: he is faint. Sophronia, find a 
 fresh egg at the barn and whip it up with a little sugar : he 
 needs something to strengthen him." 
 
 MeanwhiJe, she removed his shoe and stocking; bathed away 
 the blood; helped the mother draw the injured man's rocking- 
 chair away from the sight of the stained floor , arranged his 
 wounded leg safely ; quietly told a boy, who was passing, to 
 send a doctor from the village to dress the wound; bade the 
 woman set her room in order ; gave the young man the egg ; 
 and having in these few moments saved his life and restored 
 him to comfort, she sat by him fanning him, while he slept from 
 exhaustion, until the doctor arrived. Had the poor mother 
 been left to her own device of screaming "murder," her son 
 would have been murdered indeed. 
 
 When I first hired Martha, she seemed so reserved and 
 "dour," as the Scotch say, and had such a blunt style of 
 speaking, that I hardly wanted to keep her. An accident 
 happened one day which showed me her worth. Our next- 
 door neighbor dashed to our kitchen, crying: "My Harry's in 
 the well ! " 
 
224 THE COMPLETH: HOME. 
 
 "Arrah! and are you laving him there?" cried Martha, 
 darting out of the kitchen with me after her. The well was 
 between the two yards. " Saze the handle, miss," cried Martha 
 to me, letting herself over into the well and catching the rope, 
 I caught the windlass, and cried to the mother to hold it with 
 me. Martha, with great Presence of Mind, aided her descent 
 by the side of the well, so that her weight might not come fully 
 upon my arms. Reaching the water she caught the child as he 
 came to the surface for the last time. " Fasten the windlass, 
 miss!" shouted Martha; "and drop me the end of a clothes-line 
 to send him up by." In fact, her promptitude saved the child's 
 life. He came up insensible, but we brought him to after a 
 while. 
 
 I remember a rule which I have heard Mrs. Winton give her 
 children : a paraphrase of some of Mentor's advice to Telemaque. 
 " Be very much afraid of danger when you are out of it ; when 
 you are in it be fearless ; never give up." She was always very 
 careful to teach her children to meet accidents with calm 
 judgment. I happened to be there one day when her second 
 little son nearly cut off the top of his thumb with a hay-cutter. 
 Mrs. Winton joined the dissevered thumb, which held only by 
 a narrow bit of skin, and held it exactly and firmly in place. 
 She held the child on her lap, keeping the wound joined and 
 clasped by her hand so that he could not move it. She said, 
 calmly, " My dear, screaming will not cure your thumb, but 
 keeping quiet may save it. The doctor will be here in a few 
 moments and sew this thumb together, and with care it may be 
 as good as ever. Come now, courage ; you do not want a dis- 
 figured hand." The child took heart, carried himself bravely; 
 and his thumb healed with hardly a scar. 
 
 Mrs. Winton's Presence of Mind was of much service to 
 -Miriam's little Dora. Mrs. Winton and I entered the house 
 one day to find all in confusion : Dora had scalded her little arm 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 225 
 
 sadly with steam, from the wrist to the elbow, and was almost in 
 
 convulsions with pain. The accident had just happened. Mrs. 
 
 Winton looked hastily to see that the skin was not broken ; ran 
 
 into the kitchen, where everything was always in order and 
 
 handy; and in an instant mixed half a cup of flour and the 
 
 same amount of table-salt into a thick paste with cold water. 
 
 Miriam has a wall-pocket for string; another for paper. Mrs. 
 
 Winton from the latter took a paper-bag, tore it open, spread 
 
 on the paste, and running back to the sitting-room bound the 
 
 plaster over the whole arm and hand, tied it on with string, 
 
 wrapped over it her pocket-handkerchief, and bound over that a 
 
 napkin. In three minutes Dora's cries were calmed. She began 
 
 to catch her breath softly, and look about for the cause of her 
 
 late agony. Exhausted as she was with pain and terror, she 
 
 was evidently becoming relieved. Mrs. Winton took her on 
 
 her lap; held the burned arm extended, with a little upward 
 
 inclination to keep the blood from pressing into it. She 
 
 bathed her face with bay-water, and began to sing her a little 
 
 song. In ten minutes Dora was out of pain, and in five more 
 
 she was asleep. 
 
 " Where did you learn such a magical remedy?" I asked. 
 
 " I invented it from two old ones," she said. " I have had 
 flour and water highly recommended for burns, and also wet 
 salt : both are of some use. I burned my own hand badly ont 
 day, and concluded to unite the two remedies. I find the flour- 
 and-salt paste, laid on plentifully, not so thin as to run, and not 
 so thick as to dry quickly, always effectual where the skin is 
 unbroken : it relieves pain in two or three minutes ; cures pain 
 entirely in ten. The paste is always most useful spread on 
 brown paper. When Dora wakes, put on a fresh paste, expos- 
 ing the arm to the air as little as possible ; at bed-time, change 
 the paste again: keep her arm extended and slightly raised. 
 To-morrow morning, wrap it in linen, wrung out of sweet 
 
226 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 or castor-oil, and you will have no further trouble with the 
 burn." 
 
 I suppose that there is no more general cause of accidents 
 than fire. Accidents by fire have become more numerous since 
 the introduction of coal-oil for lighting — not that the oil is dan- 
 gerous if properly used, but it is constantly so improperly used. 
 Servants and housewives too are continually using it for lighting 
 fires : pouring a little on the kindling to make a quick blaze. 
 The flame darts up into the can, and there is an explosion. I 
 have even heard of a person sprinkling powder from a keg upon 
 a slow fire to expedite it : it is needless to say that the fire, leap- 
 ing, followed the rash hand back to the keg to the destruction 
 of reckless person and room also. Helen's Hannah had this 
 terrible habit of using kerosene. Helen used to say that she 
 expected every morning to hear a shriek, and see Hannah run- 
 ning about the house all on fire. She got her lesson, however, 
 in an easier fashion. Helen's Tom was ill, and I went to the 
 kitchen to make gruel. Hannah, in her zeal to quicken the 
 cooking, took a bottle wherein was a little kerosene, and 
 sprinkled it on the fire. Not knowing what she was doing, I 
 turned just in time to see the flame dart back into the bottle. 
 Hannah flung it from her, thus sprinkling herself with the flam- 
 ing oil. Fortunately, there were but a few drops in the bottle. 
 I caught up a bucket, which stood full of water, and dashed it 
 over Hannah, and then catching her by the shoulders pressed 
 her upon the floor on her face, and wrapped the kitchen carpet 
 over her ; she was spared other harm than the loss of her apron 
 and her dress-sleeves. The unlucky bottle, breaking on the 
 hearth, consumed the rest of the small quantity of oil without 
 damage. Hannah has been judicious in her use of kerosene 
 ever since. A fruitful cause of lamp explosions is the use of 
 lamps in which the oil has burned very low ; or, people do not 
 trim the wicks properly, and red-hot snuff falls from them; 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 227 
 
 others screw a lamp-top on poorly, allowing room for the air to 
 sweep in if the lamp is moved. If lamps are filled too full, or 
 until they run over, there is great danger of an explosion : ncr 
 should they ever be filled by lamp or fire-light, or near a stove. 
 No housewife should retire for the night until she has looked 
 after the state of the fires in the house, made sure that no wood 
 or cloth is in a position where it may fall on a stove or fire, and 
 has seen to it that there is a supply of water on hand in the 
 pails. One should not go to bed with pitchers and buckets 
 empty, for no one can know what dangers may call for water 
 before daybreak. The old saw, " an ounce of prevention is 
 worth a pound of cure," should be written in every kitchen. 
 
 How many fires have originated from the insane practice of 
 preparing kindling for the morning, and leaving it over-night on 
 the top of the kitchen-stove, where fire is yet burning when the 
 family retire ! the wood breaks into a flame, falls apart, rolls on 
 the floor ; the dry pine boards are soon in a blaze, and the family 
 are presently homeless. Another frequent cause of burned 
 houses is the leaving a frame of clothes beside the kitchen-stove 
 at night to finish drying or airing ; some yielding of the floor, 
 puflT of wind, the running against the frame of cat, dog*or rat, 
 topples it over, and in a few minutes the burning garments are 
 scattering destruction. Millions of dollars' worth of property 
 have been destroyed by carelessness in taking up and disposing 
 of ashes. Ashes should always be removed in the morning 
 before the fire is lit : this should be an invariable rule ; the ashes 
 are then cold and safe. Ashes should never be put in a barn, 
 wood-shed, beside a fence, or by any wooden buildings. Wood- 
 ashes will retain a central heat, and communicate fire long after 
 they are supposed to be quite extinct. It is good economy to 
 dig a square ash-pit, build a brick wall four feet high about it, 
 and cover it with a sloping roof; if the under-side of the roof- 
 boards are covered with refuse tin, or with a thick wash of salt 
 
228 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 and lime, so much the better ; if this ash-house is twenty feet 
 from any building, safety in this direction is secured. If the 
 place for the ashes is so far from the house, or in so exposed a 
 situation that it is difficult or dangerous for a person to go to it 
 in cold or stormy weather, or for a person suffering from a cold, 
 then there is a constant temptation to leave ashes about in 
 wooden pails or tubs, or to wait until late in the day to remove 
 them from the stove or to throw them out in heaps near the 
 house, whence hot cinders could be blown to the buildings. I 
 have myself known of the ruin of one hundred thousand dollars' 
 worth of property from various fires occasioned by hot ashes, 
 and I dare say if the statistics of fires referable to this cause 
 alone should be obtained, the result would be appalling. In the 
 country the farmer wants the ashes for his ground ; the house- 
 wife needs them for lye : such an ash-house as has just been 
 mentioned could be made by any farmer and his lads in spare 
 hours, and would secure them from the dangerous ash-barrel 
 which may be the ruin of his whole fortune. My servant 
 Martha's sister lost a snug little house and nearly all that it con- 
 tained by taking ashes from her stove at noon, which should 
 have been removed before breakfast, and adding to this the 
 taking them in a wooden pail. An hour after she found the 
 pail on fire, fallen apart, its blazing staves scattered around her 
 kitchen and on the rag-carpet. Instead of closing doors and 
 windows, dragging up the carpet, and fighting the fire with a 
 bucket of water, she fled screaming from the place, leaving the 
 door wide-open, which fanned the flame beyond control. People 
 whose carelessness allows a house to catch fire are generally 
 those who have no presence of mind to use proper means to 
 extinguish it. That was a wise law of stout old Peter Stuy- 
 vesant. Governor of New York in the Dutch times, which fined 
 every man who allowed his premises to take fire, and then he 
 expended the fine for buckets, hooks, ladders and other means 
 of putting out fires. 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 229 
 
 Speaking of fires I am reminded of people's carelessness in 
 the use of matches. They leave matches in closets near chim- 
 neys, or in places exposed to a strong sun-heat, so that they may 
 be ignited by what is called spontaneous combustion. Matches 
 are left on shelves, in paper-boxes, where mice can get among 
 them ; they are dropped around the floor, and swept into dusty 
 cracks and corners ; a burnt match with a red-hot end is dropped 
 into a wood-box, or on a floor covered with matting. People 
 carry matches about in their pockets, and leave them hanging up 
 iri a dusty coat, and then wonder why fires are so frequent 
 When we think of the millions of dollars yearly lost in fires, we 
 must be sure that there is inexcusable carelessness somewhere. 
 A great fire like that in Chicago or Boston astounds us, but 
 yearly quite as much property is lost in isolated fires. Scattered 
 over all the country one sees the blackened ruins of what were 
 handsome or comfortable farm-houses and fine barns. The 
 phrase, " loss covered by insurance," seems to deceive people ; 
 " loss transferred by insurance " would be a truer term, for the 
 loss is a loss, and the dollars burned up are dollars gone, lost 
 entirely out of the general purse. The contributions of the 
 many on insurance policies have saved the one loser from ruin, 
 /he loss is spread out more widely, and so is less felt by a single 
 individual ; but it is a real loss of property just as much as when 
 one reads " no insurance." 
 
 Nothing is more alarming than an outbreak of fire ; almost no 
 accident seems so calculated to " turn one's head," as people say ; 
 consequently the damages of fire are greater, because people 
 fail in fighting it properly at its beginning. Air should be shut 
 out from the burning place as much as possible ; if it is too late 
 for individuals to fight the monster with buckets of water, then 
 shut the fire in closely, and begin to remove furniture until hose 
 can be brought. The most coolly systematic meeting of a fire 
 'ihat I ever knew was the case of a widow near our village. 
 
230 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 She returned from church one afternoon with her three grown 
 daughters and a ten-year-old boy, and found her house on fire , 
 the fire being in the kitchen, and under such headway, that theii 
 efforts would be impotent to check it. Mrs. G. saw this at a 
 glance ; she bid the boy run back the mile to the village and 
 call the fire company ; in a moment closed the kitchen shutters 
 and laid a rug against each closed door to shut off all air. One 
 daughter then set herself to rescue the goods in the sitting-room 
 next the kitchen ; the mother and the two other girls took each 
 a bed-room. They did not waste a second : each taking a sheet 
 from the bed, emptied the bureau-drawers and the closets into it, 
 tied the corners tightly and flung it from the window ; the other 
 sheet was in like fashion tied about the bedding and flung out; 
 next the carpet was pulled up, the curtains wrapped in it, and 
 these went out the window. Two of the girls then ran out of 
 doors, dragged these rescued goods to a place where thr wit <\ 
 blew to and not from the fire, and piling them up spread a carpet 
 over them. Two and two they then carried out ( heir trunks ; 
 and while the three girls began on the furniture, the mother, v/ho 
 had emptied the room over the kitchen, deluged i1 well with all 
 the water she could bring. They left, so promptly that it 
 seemed done by instinct, things which were of small value, or 
 readily broken ; they threw nothing which would break out of 
 a window, and carried down-stairs no- soft bundle which could 
 be thrown out. When help came, the house was pretty wel? 
 emptied ; and was finally saved with the loss of the kitchen, th< 
 scorching of the room above it, and the burning of the wash 
 shed. Mrs. G. told me that they would have saved all theii 
 goods in complete order, even if the house had been lost. It is 
 the part of prudence always, except in severe freezing weather, 
 to have plenty of water in every bed-room ; and if there is a 
 bath-room, one or two buckets of water should be always 
 standing there ready for use. I find in my journals a deal 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 231 
 
 about acci^jnts by fires; but fire is not the only cause Gf 
 accidents by any means. 
 
 In a house full of children how many accidents are occasioned 
 by falls ! Helen says it seems as if some of her half-dozen were 
 tumbling off chairs or down-stairs continually ; children should 
 not be encouraged to make much ado over small matters, but 
 falls where the head or back receives a heavy blow are apt to 
 be dangerous; the head should in such a case be plentifully 
 bathed in cold water ; a few drops of ammonia in water should 
 be administered, heat or friction applied to the hands and feet, 
 and the child should not be allowed to sleep within two or three 
 hours ; its attention should be awakened, and drowsiness kept 
 off by all possible means; if nausea follows a fall, a physicia,n 
 should be at once sent for. 
 
 Indeed, the accidents which befall children are innumerable. 
 I find record how Master Tom undertook to pound up glass 
 with a stone and was nearly frantic from a bit which got into 
 his eye.- The case was desperate; Tom, roaring lustily, wanted 
 to shut his eye and rub it with his fist, thus making bad worse ; 
 moreover, not having been trained to obey, we could do nothing 
 with him. I was obliged to tie his arms down with a towel ; 
 then Hannah held him firmly back over my lap ; I drew the eye 
 open, lifting the upper lid, and Helen, by my directions, syringed 
 it thoroughly; I then concluded the most of the glass must be 
 out; I slipped three flaxseeds under the lid, tied the eye up with 
 a napkin wet in cold water, put Tom in bed in a dark room, and 
 sat by him telling him stories until he fell asleep; his eye was 
 bloodshot and needed a shade for a few days, but received no 
 permanent injury. Another of Tom's accidents was when Hester 
 uiid I had him up in the mountains with us. There was no 
 doctor within ten miles. Tom, who is a tease, teased a dog and 
 had his thumb severely bitten. It was in hot weather, and visions 
 of hydrophobia flashed upon us as soon as he screamed. Hester 
 
232 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 seized his hand and made a swift, sharp cut above the bite in the 
 fleshy part of the lower joint of the thumb, holding his hand 
 firmly downwards; she then washed the wounds thoroughly 
 in water pretty strong with ammonia, and made him take some 
 ammonia water; after this she gave him a hot soda-water bath, 
 
 f 
 
 administered a good dose of magnesia, and put Tom to bed,' 
 keeping the cloths on his hand wet with ammonia water. Her 
 patient complained bitterly of this heroic treatment, but Hester 
 told him that any treatment was better than hydrophobia: that 
 if there was poison in his system there must be help to throw it 
 off, and among other good results she hoped her doctoring 
 would produce a carefulness about teasing dogs. I do not 
 know how dangerous Tom's bite might have been, but he 
 never suffered any other ill effects from it than Hester's style 
 of cure. 
 
 I have always found ammonia very excellent for bites and 
 stings, and of late years I have used, with very good effect, cos- 
 moline for the bites of spiders and poisonous insects. 
 
 While Hester and I were at the mountains at this time we 
 had another patient; a young lad who was working on a barn 
 roof had a sunstroke. All was confusion ; some declared that 
 he was dead; others shouted for brandy; we had him laid in the 
 shade and poured very cold spring water over his head and 
 wrists; I pounded some ice, folded it in a long towel, and, the 
 men raising the patient, I placed it under his spine and the 
 back of his neck; Hester rejected the proffer of brandy, admin- 
 istering instead ammonia water, and bathing his face and neck 
 in iced bay-water; she also had the men rub his feet vigorously; 
 under this treatment our patient recovered very speedily. 
 
 I remember that was a very hot summer, and one day I saw 
 an instance of Mrs. Burr's readiness in meeting danger. I was 
 sitting with her in the sewing-room up-stairs, and her servant 
 was ironing in the kitchen; Mrs. Burr glanced from the window, 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 233 
 
 then sprang like a flash to the entry above the kitchen stairs and 
 cried: "Mary! shut that outside door!" Her voice was loud 
 and peremptory. 
 
 Mary began : "Why, ma'am — " 
 
 " Shut that door ! " repeated Mrs. Burr, in a tone that admitted 
 no disobedience, and the door slammed shut. 
 
 "Are the other doors shut ? Shut the window." 
 
 Down came the window, and then Mary's voice: "Why, 
 ma'am, it's that burning hot — " 
 
 " I dare say," said Mrs. Burr ; " and there's a mad dog in the 
 yard," and she went down to assure herself about the doors. 
 In a few minutes more we heard two shots, and the dog lay 
 dead. The open kitchen door was in his direct track, and of 
 this Mrs. Burr thought as she saw him turn towards her gate ; 
 her quickness in ordering it shut by Mary, who was standing 
 beside it, perhaps saved the maid's life. 
 
 "Oh," said Mary, overcome, " what a mercy I shut it when I 
 did ! " 
 
 " Hereafter," replied Mrs. Burr, " promptly do as you are told, 
 and make your objections afterwards." 
 
 I have observed that those who are remarkable for Presence 
 of Mind, for courage in danger, are very little likely to be injured 
 in the efforts which they make for themselves and others ; their 
 fearlessness, which in a large measure arises from unselfishness, 
 their calm bravery and good judgment, teach them to do the 
 right thing in the right way; so that, for instance, while a person 
 who goes wild wjth terror at sight of some one in flames is 
 often burned with them, the possessor of Presence of Mind will 
 save both parties with but small injury. So I once saw a slender 
 young woman stop a frightened horse, soothe him, tie him 
 securely, and relieve two ladies in the buggy, who, while they 
 might have controlled the animal if they had controlled them- 
 .selves, were only by their shrieks adding to the difficulty. She 
 
234 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 who came to the rescue might very properly have pleaded her 
 health as an excuse for doing nothing, but knowing what was 
 to be done, and calmly fearless, she prevented a serious accident, 
 and that with entire safety to herself I think many women 
 positively make a virtue of being nervous about horses ; they 
 will leap from a carriage where a horse is curveting or frightened, 
 and in the leap get serious damage, when by keeping quiet no 
 harm would have ensued ; or, they will snatch at the reins, 
 grasp a driver's hands, scream in a manner to increase a horse's 
 panic, and so occasion a disaster which quiet might have hin- 
 dered. 
 
 Miriam several times showed great presence of mind in trying 
 circumstances, as I remember. As she opened her front-door 
 entering her home one afternoon, her little boy met her, his 
 gingham apron all in flames. Without a word she threw him 
 on his face, and began rolling him rapidly on the hall-floor, until 
 reaching for a rug lying by a door, she wrapped that around " 
 him, and presently extinguished the fire. At another time she 
 was buying shoes in a shop, when a sound of choking was 
 heard from the next room. The woman who waited on her 
 looked about, and cried: " My baby's dying ! " Miriam sprang 
 with her into the next room, and saw a child of a year old on 
 the floor strangling. She caught the little thing up under her 
 left arm, holding its head partly downwards, and pressed two 
 fingers of her right hand firmly downward and backward in 
 the hollow of the throat: this forced the lower part of the throat 
 to close, and instantly the cause of the chol-yng, a copper cent, 
 which the little one had got about half way down its throat, 
 came up. This pressing on the outside of the throat at the 
 hollow, making the pressure dov/nward and backward, is much 
 better, in case of a child strangling upon any half-swallowed sub- 
 stance, than the ordinary fashion of thrusting the finger into the 
 mouth, which usually crowds the obstruction farther down. 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 235 
 
 Too much care cannot be exercised in keeping away from 
 young children marbles, bits of money, thimbles or other such 
 substances, wherewith they might choke themselves. Astound- 
 ing as the statement may seem, I once saw in a grave-yard the 
 graves of five infants of one mother, all of whom had come to 
 their death by choking with a thimble. Perhaps I misjudged 
 that unhappy mother — whose losses finally made her insane—- 
 and she had not been careless in this unhappy series of disasters, 
 but I thought of the verse in Proverbs: "Though thou bray 
 a fool in a mortar with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness 
 depart from him." It is dangerous also to give a child paper to 
 play with, because it is apt to fill its mouth with paper, and 
 presently to choke on the wet lump. Too much care cannot 
 be exercised over the things given to a young child to amuse it. 
 An acquaintance of mine carelessly handed a child a piece of 
 green worsted cloth. After some time she saw that the babe's 
 mouth was discolored from sucking this rag ; in fact, the child 
 was poisoned with the dye, and after a two months' illness 
 narrowly escaped with its life. Speaking of poison, reminds me 
 that we should keep on hand some simple antidote. The 
 whites of raw eggs, also mustard and water, are often useful 
 where poison has been swallowed. When I was spending a 
 winter with my half-sister in New York, her daughter-in-law 
 rushed into the kitchen, crying that she was poisoned. She 
 had carelessly mistaken a poison given her for a bath, and used 
 it internally. My sister was baking sponge cake, and had by 
 her a plate of whites of eggs, which she was about to beat. She 
 promptly administered these, and saved the young woman's life. 
 
 Of late I have been urging upon my young friends the 
 importance of training their children in habits of self-control, in 
 the exercise of Presence of Mind, that they may act resolutely 
 and bravely in emergencies, and meet accidents with calmness. 
 It is not worth while to wait for some great crisis to occur to 
 
236 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 give this training : begin it in little things. When anything is 
 dropped or broken, let the damage be repaired promptly and 
 properly: thus one is accustomed to think reasonably and 
 judiciously. The screaming and excitement over small mis- 
 adventures, which begin often as a mere affectation, end in a 
 real incapacity for rendering effective service in time of need. 
 I have noticed that those who exaggerate in their views and 
 accounts of things, by accustoming their imagination to super- 
 sede their judgment, end in becoming timid, nervous and help- 
 less in a crisis. There is no greater folly than to educate 
 children into cowardice. Parents do this by showing cowardice 
 themselves, by allowing their children to be terrified with 
 foolish tales, or made the victims of cruel jokes, or frightened to 
 render them obedient. Train them to look reasonably at all 
 things, to see that in every danger or difficulty there is some- 
 thing that can be done, if it is only to keep calm and wait; and 
 let them learn that the real point of danger is when the mind 
 has lost the mastery of itself, when reason has given the reins to 
 fear or to imagination. How many evils are intensified, or real 
 dangers brought out of imaginary dangers, by this wicked 
 excitement! A lady in our village was ill, when her nurse 
 rushed in, crying, " Harry's drowned ! he fell in the creek ! " 
 The unfortunate mother was thrown into a congestive chill, and 
 in a few hours was dead; while her child, who had been 
 pulled out of the water as quickly as he fell in, had no harm but 
 a wetting. If the child had been drowned, the news should not 
 have been so hastily carried to the sick mother ; while if he had 
 seemed drowned, and had really been near to death, vigorous 
 efforts, as rubbing, wrapping in hot blankets, and the other 
 known remedies, might have resuscitated him. 
 
 I have heard people argue that they were not to blame for 
 lacking Presence of Mind, and so failing to furnish a proper 
 conduct in cases of accidents. They say that the courage, 
 
ACCIDENTS IN THE HOME. 237 
 
 reason, decision, firmness, which compose Presence of Mind, are 
 gifts of God, not to be created by human effort, and he who 
 lacks them is rather to be pitied than blamed. Now, I reply, 
 that all people, who are not idiots or insane» have in them the 
 germs of all these qualities ; these are implanted in their minds 
 by God; and whether weak or strong in their inception, they are 
 capable of increase by cultivation, and they will dwindle if they 
 are not fostered ; therefore, he who lacks these powers is guilty 
 in the lack, masmuch as he has not made the best of himself, 
 has not developed the good that was in him, and by so failing, 
 has really developed fear, feebleness and idle excitement. 
 Some people, especially those of delicate constitutions, are 
 victims of nervous tremors and terrors ; they tremble and grow- 
 faint at a cry of pain, at sight of blood, at the sound of a fall ; 
 only by painful efforts can they school themselves to conquer 
 these predispositions. They who out of these natural dis- 
 abilities develop courage, and helpfulness, and calm self- 
 control should be crowned as true heroes. Every effort toward 
 this attainment of Presence of Mind they will find worth the 
 making in the good they do, the evil they avoid doing, and the 
 satisfaction of conscience. Every effort will, in its very painful- 
 ness, lift them nearer to rigid self-control. "The angel of 
 martyrdom is brother to the angel of victory." 
 16 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 RELIGION IN THE HOME. 
 WHAT AUr>T SOPHRONIA HAS TO SAY OF FAMILY PIETV. 
 
 [NE Sabbath evening in June, I was sitting on my front 
 piazza,' reading, when a neighbor of mine, with his two 
 httle boys, returning from a walk, passed me. The 
 youngest child called to me for some roses that grew in 
 my yard, and I bid him help himself The three then came in 
 aivl sat down near me on the steps. After a little general con- 
 versation, I said to my neighbor: 
 
 " Mr. Carr, you have a promising family of boys growing up 
 around you, and I am sorry to see that you do not take them to 
 church, and bring them up in the ways of piety." 
 
 " Why, Miss Sophronia," said Mr. Carr, " I don't believe m 
 religion!" 
 
 " Is it possible!" I replied. " But you are always esteemed as 
 a very industrious, honest, generous, law-abiding man." 
 
 "Certainly," said Mr. Carr; "I hoLd to morals, but not to 
 religion. I believe in abiding by the laws." 
 
 " Suppose you were in a country where stealing was not con- 
 trary to law, would you steal ? " 
 
 " Why, no ; I have a principle against stealing." 
 
 "As you abide by the laws, and do not believe in religion, I 
 suppose you adhere to the statute-book, and not to the Bible." 
 
 " That's about it." 
 
 " Did you never consider that these morals in which you 
 
 believe are originally laid down in the Bible as a part of re- 
 
 (238) 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 239 
 
 ligion, that our statute-books are modelled on the Bible laws, 
 prohibiting what it prohibits, and for the most part following its 
 penalties ? Countries which have no Bible, no Christian relig- 
 ion, have no pure code of morals, no righteous statute laws. If 
 you will cast over in your mind the present state of the coun- 
 tries in the world, Christian and unchristian, if you will run over 
 in your thoughts the history of the world, you will see that 
 morality and justice have spread among nations just in propor- 
 tion as Bible-light has spread. It is a mere matter of facts and 
 statistics, not of theory. Contrast Germany and Turkey, Eng- 
 land and India.'HoUand and Siam, the United States arid Africa. 
 Then draw the lines a little closer, and look at those countries 
 where the Bible has been free in the vulgar tongue and where it 
 has been hidden, and contrast the intelligence, the purity of 
 rtiorals, the statistics of education, the number of murders, the 
 proportion of lawful marriages, the character of truthfulness. 
 Take the same country with a free Bible and freedom of wor- 
 ship, and without — Italy, for instance, in these two cases — and 
 jiee when was the march of improvement, the increase in wealth, 
 power, unity and credit among other nations." 
 
 I knew my neighbor was a reading man, and that he boasted 
 of a good historic library. 
 
 He pondered a while, hesitating. " Yes,'' he said, " it does 
 seem that morals and religion, civilization and freedom in wor- 
 ship, the Bible and good laws, go hand in hand. But, Miss 
 Sophronia, we might look at religion as an education, which 
 states need to bring them up to a point of development where 
 they can look out for themselves, as a lad needs schooling, and 
 then quits school." 
 
 " But the mind is either going forward or backward ; it cannot 
 stand still : if it does not advance, it will retrograde. Suppose 
 on leaving school the boy never looks at a printed word, never 
 writes a word, lets drop the acquirements which he has made, 
 
240 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 what will become of him ? — he will brutalize. If the state in all 
 its individuals cuts loose from religion after it has risen by 
 religion, then anarchy will follow. If states rise by God's law, 
 they stand by it. You say you hold to morals, but do not 
 adhere to the Bible. The morals to which you cling are a part 
 of the Bible. Let us take the Moral Law. Here are the first 
 two Commandments about worshipping God, and not worship- 
 ping images : what do you do with them ? " 
 
 " Nothing. That's religion, and I just let it alone." 
 
 " Take the next — against profanity." 
 
 "Well, Miss Sophronia, swearing is useless and vulgar; it is 
 a mark of blackguards, common to men drunk, and men lying, 
 and men in a passion. It is also forbidden by the laws of some 
 states. I'm against swearing, as a matter of decency and good 
 order." 
 
 " Try the fourth — about keeping the Sabbath." 
 
 " Well, now, Miss Sophronia, I think every man should keep 
 it as he pleases. If I take a walk, I don't hurt my leighbors by- 
 doing it. If men prefer recreation to church, why let them have 
 recreation. Why cannot Sunday be left like any other day in 
 the week, and let those who want to go to church on it go ? " 
 
 " If Sabbath is left like any other day in the week, then oui 
 business places must be full of traffic, buildings must be going 
 up, boats and cars must be running, the farmer who prefers to 
 work can keep his hands haying, harvesting or ploughing, all 
 places of amusement must be open, peddlers crying their wares, 
 organ-men grinding, auctions going on, factories working. 
 Consider in such a case that all men who are employes must 
 lose their Sabbath or their situations ; they may have a con- 
 science about the matter, and desire to keep the Sabbath holy, 
 but they cannot, unless they throw up their business, and stand 
 open to beggary. All people who have leisure, and desire to go 
 to church, would find their services invaded by noise : they would 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 241 
 
 f)e deprived, against their wills, of the calm and rest which Sab- 
 bath intends. You, who demand a Sabbath for recreation, for 
 amusement for hard workers, say open the Zoological Gardens 
 and museums. If these, why not the shows, theatres and beer- 
 gardens ? If these can be allowed to make money, why cannot 
 the stores, the markets, the factories be open ? If these are all 
 open, then that working-class, which in your demand were rep- 
 resented as exhausted by six days' work, and needing recreation, 
 will be required to work seven days (or lose their bread), and 
 they will see neither rest nor recreation. Again, parents who 
 cherish the Sabbath as a day of holy resting desire to bring 
 their children up so to regard it ; but if the barriers which sur» 
 round the Sabbath are cast down, and the day is made exactl)?' 
 like other days, there will be no quiet at home in which to 
 instruct, the children. As they, pass along the streets to church 
 they see examples which their parents believe to be pernicious ; 
 their very church service is invaded with din ; the individual 
 right of the parent to train up his child in accordance with his 
 own conscience is interfered with. You abhor swearing : sup- 
 pose it were legal for a man to stand by the hour at your gate, 
 and fill the ears of your boys with profanity? " 
 
 " I don't go so far as you think I do about the Sabbath," said 
 Mr. Carr. "I don't hold that any one should be allowed to 
 disturb his neighbor. Parson can't make me go to church, and 
 I ought not to claim a right to disturb parson's Sunday. As to 
 the Sunday shows and excursions, I don't want you to think I'd 
 go or take my children." 
 
 " Why not ? You don't think them wrong, surely ? " 
 " No, not in themselves, but in the way they are conducted. 
 If you notice in the papers, they generally end in a row : there 
 is always a lot of noise, drinking and swearing; and, as the 
 result of the confusion, often an accident. I always look for a 
 blow-up of some sort when I hear of a big Sunday excursion." 
 
242 THE COMPLETE ffVME. 
 
 " Do you have that feeling about large school, church or 
 trades' excursions on other days of the week ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. I sometimes go to them with my boys." 
 
 "Consider, then, Mr. Carr, that you instinctively admit that 
 the people who clamor for and indulge in the breaking of the 
 Fourth Commandment are the noisy, dangerous, law-breaking 
 class ; while the observers of the command are the law-abiding, 
 orderly, respectable people : does not that speak pretty well for 
 the command, and for the virtue of keeping it intact ? " 
 
 " Now see here. Miss Sophronia," said Mr. Carr, with a fine 
 appearance of liberality, " I'll take that command in as a part of 
 morals : there's as much morals as religion in it, and I hold to 
 morals." 
 
 I made no remark about the connection of morals and religion, 
 but passed on to the next command : 
 
 " What do you think of the Fifth : ' Honor thy father and thy 
 mother — ? ' " 
 
 " That's morals, sound morals, and the voice of Nature." 
 
 " But without the enlightening influence of the Bible, it seems 
 to me that this voice of Nature often dies away, not only in 
 solitary individuals, but in whole nations, and those most widely 
 removed in race and situation.. In India, Alaska, and the distant 
 islands, I find that parents make a practice of murdering their 
 children, and children in turn make a practice of murdering 
 their sick or aged parents, casting them out to the sea, to star- 
 vation, or to wild animals. I never yet heard of a Christian 
 man, or eveii of one nominally a professor and respecter of 
 religion, who knocked down his mother, or refused to support 
 his aged parents, or • to care for his sick father ; while despisers 
 ■of religion are often arraigned for these crimes. If you dissever 
 religion from this law, you will soon find it disregarded. Also 
 you will note that nations ignorant of the Bible lack that general 
 respect for the parental tie, this enforcing of the mutual righ*^ 
 
RELIGION TN THE HOME. 243 
 
 of parents and children, known to Christian laws. Take the next 
 command : ' Thou shalt not kill.' Consider statistics : are murders 
 more or less common in Christian lands than in others ? " 
 
 " Oh, there are not an hundreth part so many, in the so-called 
 Christian lands," said Mr. Carr. 
 
 " The so-called Christian lands',' I said, " are lands where the 
 divinity of Christ is generally recognized, where God is acknowl- 
 edged, where his Book of Laws is known, and where there are 
 enough religious people to give a tone to public opinion. In 
 these lands you say there are not one per cent, of the murders 
 in other lands ; it seems to me then that in that admission there 
 is a small showing of morals where there is no religion. I 
 might question v, where Biblical religion is unknown, morals in 
 •any true sen3e arc not also unknown. If that is so, in holding 
 as you say to mcrals, and not to religion, you hold to one thing, 
 rejecting another with which it is inseparably connected : you 
 admit the tree and deny its root. Take the statistics of nom- 
 inally Christian countries : what proportion is there between the 
 decrease f"f murders and the general diffusion of the Bible ? " 
 
 "It is a fact too well known to question," said Mr. Carr, 
 "that as Bible religion increases among a people, murder 
 decreases." • 
 
 I was not ready to take advantage of this admission, so I said : 
 " Well, nov/, what do you think of polygamy and of divorce ? " 
 
 " I abhor them from my soul," said Mr. Carr, " as the ruin of 
 the family tie, and of family life ; and "ihcrefore root of de- 
 struction to the state. States, Miss Sophronia, begin in families: 
 where the family is weak or impure, the state will be weak and 
 impure. There are no two more ruinous, outrageous and dan- 
 gerous doctrines at the present day than those of Polygamy and 
 Free Love." 
 
 " Oh, indeed," said I ; " and did you ever hear these upheld 
 by any upholder of the religion of Jessus Christ ? Have aot the 
 
244 I'^E. COMPLETE HOME 
 
 Mormon Polygamists got a Bible of their own ? and are not the 
 advocates of Free Love howling their loudest against the 
 Christian religion and the word of God? If you hold the 
 Family Life dear as your own soul, who inaugurated that life 
 but the God whom you ignore? If you consider the sanctity 
 of the family indispensable to your own happiness and to the 
 stability of the state, where is its bulwark but in the word 
 of God? where is its defence but in laws which take their 
 rise from that word? Lands where there are no Bibles are 
 lands of polygamy and divorce, and of no marriage relations. 
 You will find Turkey, and India, and Siam, and other heathen 
 lands, full of Harems; you may look to lands of Bibles for 
 virtuous mothers and wife-loving husbands. Take again the 
 relation between a general knowledge of the Bible and the 
 personal virtue of the citizens : you must admit from known 
 figures that they are in direct proportion. Just in proportion 
 as a land is a" land of religion, it is a land of Homes. The 
 Home is founded by God, built up by his worship, garrisoned 
 by Biblical religion. Show me a Free Lovist, or a Polygamist, 
 who takes the Bible for his guide, and Jesus Christ for his 
 Lord." 
 
 " Really, I don't suppose that there is such a one." 
 
 "Then, do you not see, that in rejecting God and his religion, 
 you reject the foundation and assurance of Home ? " 
 
 " But, Miss Sophronia, I do not reject or ignore God. I 
 regard him as the fountain of morals. I suppose that there is 
 a God who made everything, who maintains everything, and 
 hcis a general rule over everything. I cannot see any other 
 reasonable explanation of things." 
 
 " Then, in your view, there is a Being, who holds the general 
 relations of a King, a Ruler, a Father. Where is there a king 
 who has no laws for his kingdom, expects no service, loyalty or 
 recognition from his subjects, and has no order, no appoint- 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 245 
 
 inents, no state in his household ? Only a truly great and 
 reasonable Being could create, maintain and rule as you admit. 
 But such a Being must necessarily have formulated some laws 
 for his kingdom; must make some demands in behalf of his 
 own honor; he could not foster ignorance, ingratitude and 
 anarchy in his subjects. The Bible instructs us how we may 
 serve this Being in a method agreeable to his will. Such a 
 Being must have been as reasonable as earthly sovereigns, and 
 have perpetuated some code of laws and directions for his 
 dominions. Among all the books which claim to be Divine 
 and the formulation of such directions, only the Bible, as 
 judged by its effects among men in promoting their happiness, 
 virtue and well-being, is worthy of our credence, that approves 
 its origin by being able to secure its end. Biblical religion is 
 the serving and esteeming God in a manner agreeable to his 
 expressed will. Now if you accept the God and reject religion, 
 you admit yourself a rebel and virtually an anarchist, at once. 
 Mow would such a proceeding work in our civil relations ? " 
 
 " Why, Miss Sophronia," said Mr. Carr, " you are drawing 
 Lhe lines pretty tight." 
 
 " Mr. Carr, did you not say that the state begins in the 
 Family, and that as the Family is the state will be ? " 
 
 " Yes, I did, Miss Sophronia ; and that I stand to." 
 
 "And did you not also admit, from knowledge of statistics, 
 that those states are stronger, purer, more thriving and hon- 
 ored, better every way, where there is Christianity and the 
 Bible ? " 
 
 " Well, yes ; that's a fact, toe " 
 
 " Then, where is the point where the family, not needing in 
 itself religion or the Bible, must begin to receive them for the 
 good of the state? If the state is built up by the diffusion of 
 religious light, is it not that that light is held in the families 
 of the citizens ? You cannot imagine a state where the families 
 
246 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 rejected religion, avowing, as a state, a religion and maintaining 
 itself on Biblical authority. This advantage of Biblical Re- 
 ligion in the state is a thing of the Homes. In these homes 
 public opinion is manufactured, and legislators are nourished, 
 and an executive is trained up. If you reject religion for your 
 Home, you must, as far as you are able to do so, reject it for 
 your state, and if you think the state needs it and thrives by it, 
 then you should, out of loyalty, if from no other reason, cultivate 
 it in your Home. You said the state is ruined in the ruin of the 
 Family.' If 'Religion is good for the state, it is good for the 
 Family. Did it ever occur to you, that just as an increase of 
 Biblical religiousness in the state decreases vice, murders, 
 thefts, so an increase of religious opinion in the Family will 
 decrease the chance of any of its members being murderers, oT 
 thieves, or rioters ? All the criminals were somebody's sons 
 and came out of Families, and if the parents had maintained 
 Family Piety, by your own statistical statement, they would 
 have reduced by ninety-nine per cent, the likelihood of theii 
 children being criminals. You ought to cultivate Family 
 Religion for the mere sake of making it highly improbable that 
 any of your promising children should ever be criminals; for^ 
 as you have yourself admitted, morals and religion seem to be 
 inseparable." 
 
 " Upon my word, it does look that way," said Mr. Carr, with 
 an anxious glance to his boys who were rolling on the grass. 
 
 " I heard that when you lived in the next county, you had 
 served as a juror more than any man in the county." 
 
 " So I had. It became a real burden to me. I tell you, Miss 
 Sophronia, it is hard to sit as a juror when a man is up for 
 murder, or likely to get twenty years in the penitentiary." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Carr, in those trials, for all kinds of crimes, which 
 you attended, were the accused persons men who were esteemed 
 religious, professed Bible piety, or advocated the Bible as a rul-' 
 of living?" 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 247 
 
 "Upon my word, ma'am, I can't remember one that was. 
 Now that never occurred to me before.'' 
 
 " This, then, is another reason for maintaining rehgion in your 
 family ; out of religious families the criminal dock is not filled 
 Were you not for five years overseer of the poor? " 
 
 *' Yes, I was. I'm glad I'm out of that business." 
 
 " Will you tell me whether you found, among your paupers 
 generally, members of Christian churches, readers of the Bible, 
 regular attendants on divine worship — what are called religious 
 people ? " 
 
 • " Bless my life, no ! They were usually a hard set. They were 
 many of them drunkards, or had always been incorrigibly 
 lazy and dirty ; or had trained up roughly a lot of rowdy, ill- 
 behaved children, who would not or could not help the old 
 folks. I only remember one really Christian pauper. She was 
 a good old woman, but she was not long in the almshouse : the 
 parson's wife got after her, and took her away for the church to 
 keep." 
 
 "Another argument for cultivating religion in your family. 
 Christian households do not furnish the paupers ; if they are not 
 rich, they are not beggars. David says : ' I have never seen the 
 righteous forsaken, or his seed begging bread.' Remember that, 
 my neighbor, in behalf of your children and grandchildren. 
 But you mentioned the unfilial conduct of these paupers' children. 
 When you admit God as a universal Father, and so your Father, 
 and yet give him no filial reverence, are you not setting your 
 children a poor example of father-loving and honoring ? God 
 says :' If I be a Father where is mine honor, and if I be a 
 Master where is my fear ? ' Now only one question more. You 
 know this county well. Setting aside a few rich and notorious 
 men, who have gained wealth by speculations and extortions, and 
 wild, unjustifiable means, are not the well-to-do men, the tidy 
 fortunes, the comfortable little properties, made by diligence, 
 
248 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 honesty and economy, in the hands of the religious people? 
 Those who are Hving from hand to mouth, who are in rags and 
 d2bt, and on the verge of pauperism in every slack time, are the 
 men who ignore religion, reject the Bible, despise the Sabbath. 
 The steady church-goers, the decent, religious men, are the self 
 sustaining, honest, free-from-debt men: is it not so?" 
 
 " Well, yes, Miss Sophronia, I'll admit that, for it is so." 
 
 " Then this is another reason for your maintaining, in your 
 family, religion and Bible rules ; for these are in the way of thrift, 
 of competence, of honesty, of independence, of really and 
 righteously getting on in the world : is this not so ? Don't you 
 owe your children Family Piety ? Does not their future honor 
 and success demand it of you ? As an example to your children, 
 should you not maintain religion at Home ? As a citizen, do 
 you not owe such an upholding of religion to the good of the 
 state ? " 
 
 Mr. Carr rose. " Perhaps, Miss Sophronia, if I had not kept 
 pretty clear of the parsons, and of the Bible, I might have had 
 some of these things set out in this light before. I shall study 
 this matter up, I can tell you, and see where it comes out." 
 So saying he called his boys, and said " good-evening." 
 
 What is more important in a Family than Religion ? The 
 security, the perpetuity of the Home, demands it. If the Home 
 is not to be invaded by crimes, by the anguish of children 
 departing into ways of vice — if it is not to breed dishonesty, 
 unthriftand pauperism — it should be garrisoned by Family Faith, 
 by Piety. If I were not a religious person, but merely a carefuL 
 common-sense observer of affairs and a student of statistics, I 
 should hold this opinion. * 
 
 When my nieces Miriam and Helen had been married ten 
 years I desired to mark the time by a Family Gathering. I 
 invited the relations for a dinner, but the dinner was to be at 
 three o'clock, and I requested my three nieces. Cousin Ann's 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 249 
 
 Sara, -who had married young Winton, Mary Watkins, and two 
 or three more, to come about half-past ten, so as to spend the 
 day with me. 
 
 " Do you remember," said Hester, when we were all quietly 
 seated together, " the conversation which you had with Miriam 
 and Helen, before they were married, about the Building of a 
 Home ? You thought I was not particularly interested, but I 
 treasured it all, and I do not know of any instruction which has 
 done me more good. Have you not something further to say 
 on the same subject?" 
 
 " My dear girls," I replied, " to-day I feel inclined to con- 
 verse with you on a theme even more important, namely, 
 the Building of a Home for Eternity; the projecting of the 
 home which you rear on earth into the future world ; the raising 
 of those hornes which you are framing here below into homes 
 not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. It cannot be that 
 a structure so sacred, so divine in its origin, so glorious in its 
 possibilities, as a Home, finds 'its be-all and its end-all here.' 
 I told you long ago that the foundation of a Home, its corner- 
 stone, must be laid in sound religious principle ; how can we 
 better employ part of this day of reunion than in discussing how 
 to carry out this religious principle in the every-day life of the 
 Home? The Home is the cradle and nursery where human 
 immortals begin a life which shall last forever ; therefore, in the 
 Home, preparations should be made for that immortal life. I 
 wish you would suggest to me some reasons for especially culti- 
 vating Religion in the Family." 
 
 " If it is true," said Mary Watkins, " as we all believe it to be, 
 that Religion is the highest concern of man, then we should 
 cultivate it in our families, as the best thing in which we can 
 interest our children ; also becaiAe our homes are worthy of the 
 noblest that can be brought into them, and because early im- 
 pressions and home impressions are usually more strong and 
 
250 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 lasting than any others ; while, as we owe our children the very 
 best that we can do for them, we should not, while trying 
 to prepare them for this earthly life, which may end at any 
 moment, fail to prepare them for the life which shall never end." 
 
 " If religion, or true piety, is the pervading spirit of the 
 Home," remarked Miriam, " then we are relieved of a gnawing 
 anxiety for the eternal future of our loved ones; I can imagine 
 nothing more painful than for a wife to feel that the husband 
 whom she loves may at any moment be hurried unprepared into 
 eternity, or for a mother to see her children growing up un- 
 godly: to feel that after she has left this world they may be 
 living wicked lives, and dying impenitent. Family piety is 
 strong and calm in a confident expectation of the reunion of 
 dear ones in the eternal world ; thus it takes away the keenfest 
 sting of death, and gives us courage in the hour of separation." 
 
 " We cannot for an instant think," said Hester, "that the soul 
 going out of this world is lessened in any of its powers; that 
 which is highest in it, its love, must be rather intensified. How 
 grand, then, to think of family ties strengthened and perpetuated 
 in a world of glory ! Family piety, purifying and elevating the 
 family relation here, gives the earnest of an eternal reunion of 
 the family in a world where nothing can offend. Husbands 
 and wives are unwiUing to be parted long in this world ; mothers 
 are loath to have their children leave them; how great an 
 incentive have we to the cultivation of family piety, giving us 
 cissurance of a family forever united, and forever happy 1 " 
 
 " Piety is the finest inheritance which parents can bestow 
 upon their children," said Sara. " True, grace is the gift of 
 God, yet he has promised to bestow it upon the children of his 
 children, to many generations; he takes the whole family of his 
 followers into covenant; we |Jo not find in the gospels one 
 instance where Christ refused the plea of a parent for a child. 
 We may strive to lay up fortunes for our children, and ma;? 
 
RELIGION IN- THE HOME. 251 
 
 fail in doing so, or left, they may be a temptation and a curse ; 
 we may strive to educate them well, and they may not have 
 ability to receive a thorough education, or means may be lack- 
 ing, or, acquired, it may be misused; but if we strive for the 
 salvation of our children, if we consecrate them to God, and 
 train them up in accordance with that consecration, we are sure 
 of reward." 
 
 "Sara," I said, "your parents, with a large family, a large 
 farm, and often insufficient help, could plead little time for 
 religious duties, if any one could ever make such a plea. Now 
 will you tell us something of their method of religious training, 
 for to them, as to the Elect Lady, it could be written: ' I rejoiced 
 when I found of thy children walking in the truth.' " 
 
 " Well," said Sara, " we never sat down to the table without a 
 blessing being asked; always as soon as the breakfast was ended, 
 chairs were drawn back from the table, and father took the Bible 
 for prayers; no hurry of work interfered with family worship ; 
 all being together, servants and children, when breakfast was 
 ended, no one need be waited for, or be absent. Father never 
 made very long prayers, but he saw to it that we were attentive; 
 he was apt to ask some question while he was reading, which 
 we must be alert to answer ; this kept us from dreaming during 
 prayer-time. As soon as tea was over -we had evening prayers, 
 a little shorter perhaps than in the morning; so, you see, even 
 as babies in arms, we were present at worship, and never knew 
 what it was to be without it. We were always taken to church, 
 even as very little children ; the habit formed of quiet at prayers 
 helped us to be quiet there ; from being in church and keeping 
 quiet, we soon learned to hear and understand something that 
 'vas said or done ; at home father asked us for the text, ques- 
 tioned us of what we could remember, and himself explained 
 and repeated something that had been said. He never allowed 
 any sharp or unkind criticisms of the preacher; even when not 
 
252 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 especially pleased himself, he would not permit any carping. 
 He used to say: ' Don't quarrel with the di^h in which you get 
 the bread of life,' and he frequently quoted the passage : ' Touch 
 not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm.' I know 
 once our hired man said : ' That was a mighty poor sermon to- 
 day,' and father retorted : ' Poor or not, Thomas, if you'll live 
 lip to it this week, you'll make an astonishing improvement on 
 your past' 
 
 " We were required to be orderly on the Sabbath, and to read 
 only Sabbath books ; but we were well supplied with these, and 
 could read them on the porch, or in a tree, in the barn or gar- 
 den, as we liked, if we would not get into a frolic or foolish talk. 
 We had always to learn some verses from the Bible on Sunday, 
 and read a chapter, and repeat its substance, and after tea, 
 mother always instructed us from the Bible for an hour, and 
 , then we read a few chapters, verse about, while father explained 
 them to us. We were encouraged to amuse ourselves asking 
 each other hard questions, capping verses, making or decipher- 
 ing scriptural enigmas, all of which increased our acquaintance 
 with the Bible. When we did anything wrong, Bible authority 
 was appealed to, to condemn it; if we proposed any course 
 which our parents did not approve, they based their disapproval . 
 on the Scriptures : they squared their own conduct on the Bible, 
 and we saw clearly that they only wished us to walk in the way 
 where they went themselves, and that in pressing piety upon us, 
 they offered thus that which themselves thought most worth the 
 having. They considered us as children of God, because them- 
 selves were God's children, and they required us to walk worthy 
 of that calling before we had in our own right made any public 
 profession thereof. Our mother, no matter how tired or hurried 
 she might be, always took us to bed, until we were eight years 
 old, heard us say our prayers reverently, and repeated to us a 
 verse of Scripture. When we were old enough to go to bed by 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 253 
 
 ourselves, as we kissed mother good-night, she almost always 
 said : ' Do not neglect your prayers, and think while you pray/ 
 We were always carefully kept from irreligious companions, and 
 from books which were in any way hostile to piety, and we were 
 taught to reverence good people because they were loved of 
 God. In fact, our Home Life was a Religious Life: piety was as 
 natural to our home as its food or its labors ; we grew into it, 
 because we were trained in it, just as the trees in the orchard 
 grow into good fruit-bearing, because they had been planted, 
 grafted, pruned, cultivated, cared for, all with a view to good 
 fruit-bearing. I never heard any one question the quality of the 
 fruit, because it was a product of this cultivating, and had not 
 developed itself without any help or attention." 
 
 " Indeed, Sara," said Helen, " I am much obliged to you for 
 such a plain, simple statement of your mother's religious training 
 of her family; it makes things seem clearer and easier to me." 
 
 " We may also," said Hester, " learn or take warning by the 
 converse. I visited once in a family where the parents were 
 church-members, but living among worldly people, and more 
 and more in a worldly way, they retained very few or no prac- 
 tices of piety. They never had a blessing at table, never family 
 prayer; they went to church or not, just as it happened. The 
 mother sent the nurse to take the children to bed, so that they 
 hardly heard of saying their prayers. If their mother on Sun- 
 day bestirred herself to tell them a Bible story, or that God^ 
 made them, or that Adam was the first man, it was as much 
 religious instruction as ever they got. If the parents went to 
 church, the children were left at home, for their mother said it 
 was too much trouble to get them ready, and their father said 
 they distracted him by being uneasy : besides their parents con- 
 sidered going to Sunday-school — which they did irregularly — 
 was quite religion enough for a Sunday ; therefore, if the parents 
 were in the family pew, between them, where their children 
 should have been, stretched a vacuum, which God abhors." 
 
254 TtJE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " I'm afraid," said Helen, " that some of my training has been 
 like that, though I trust not quite so deplorable. However, I 
 resolve to do better ; indeed, I have often so resolved, but when 
 I get the children about me on Sunday to give them a little 
 instruction, they are so restless, and make such insane answers, 
 that as often as anything I end by getting provoked. Imagine 
 Phil, after I have taught him this two years that God made him, 
 when I asked the question, replying, gravely, ' I guess the Presi- 
 dent ; ' or insi-sting upon stopping all instruction while he, during 
 the story of The Fall, investigated why Adam and Eve, shut out 
 at the gate, ' did not climb over the fence,' or why Adam called 
 a beast such a name as a Kangaroo : I said, in despair, that he 
 did not call it a Kangaroo ; then says Phil, " That ain't its name, 
 and I shall always call it a liopper; ' and then off go Tom and 
 Phil on a dispute whether the term hopper is not pre-empted by 
 a grasshopper, and thus ends my talk. Hester, you ought to 
 have them ; you know how to deal with children, and really 
 I don't." 
 
 We none of us could help laughing at poor Helen's discomfi- 
 tare, and really, as to her children, I think with Hannah that they 
 are the " most masterful mischiefs that ever were born." I told 
 Hester one day that " the children seemed to have all the decis- 
 ion which their mother lacked." She said that was because 
 'their mother had never shown any decision in her government, 
 and so had encouraged insubordination. 
 
 " However," said Helen, " I did not intend, by the narration 
 of my difficulties, to interrupt our conversation on Religion in 
 .the Family, for it is a question which I am sure I need to hear 
 discussed. Aunt Sophronia, you have said little as yet on the 
 subject: give us some plain instruction." 
 
 " It seems to me," I said, "that Sara's account of Cousin Ann's 
 method of cultivating Family Piety covers nearly the whole 
 .ground, and gives us the picture of a godly home : a home 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 255 
 
 which, broken at last here, shall not perish, but shall be trans- 
 planted to the skies, to grow in greater and greater beauty, as a 
 central sun of a system around which revolve the stars of other 
 homes, lit by its light while here below. The fact is, my>chil 
 dren, that where there is any vital piety in one or both the heads 
 of a Family, it must make itself felt and prominent in the Home : 
 the light in the heart shines out first at the hearth. If there is 
 no Family Religion, there is no religion at all in the Family; the 
 true Christian is never like Bunyan's Mr. Talkative, ' a saint 
 abroad and a devil at home;' nor is he pious at church and 
 for himself, and indifferent to the spiritual concerns of his family; 
 and not only he must be not indifferent, but actively interested 
 in their salvation, if he has any true piety, for if religion is any- 
 thing to a soul, it is the first and best of everything. God 
 setteth the solitary in families that he may preserve to himself 
 a righteous seed upon the earth; and if we do not serve God in 
 our homes, we contravene the Lord's highest purpose in Home- 
 making, while his tenderest benediction falls on him of whom 
 he can say, as of his servant of old, I know him that he will 
 command his children and his household after him. We ought 
 to esteem it God's choice gift to us that our families may be 
 numbered in his chosen generation and royal priesthood. 
 
 " ' So boasting not that they derive their birth 
 From loins enthroned and nobles of the earth, 
 But higher yet their proud pretensions rise. 
 Children of parents passed into the skies.' 
 
 ' "I would like especially to urge upon you careful and regular 
 attendance on the services of your church, both on Sabbath 
 and also at the weekly meetings. Take your children with you 
 to the weekly meetings, whatever they are. We form our habits 
 in youth, so do not let them grow up with a habit of absenting 
 themselves from the gatherings of God's people. We can find 
 time tor these things, if we will only endeavor to Ho so. You 
 
25G "^I'tiE COMPLETE nOMi,. 
 
 know, Sara, that the Wintons were once for three years in 
 . Europe. I heard of their course there from others who were 
 abroad a*: the same time. They carefully arranged their travel- 
 ling so that on Sabbaths they should be where there was evan- 
 gelical preaching in English, and there they went twice to 
 church ; they always managed to find the Wednesday evening 
 prayer-meeting, and attend it as regularly as at home ; they 
 spent their Sabbaths just as they did in this country, not 'sight- 
 seeing,' and then salving over conscience by saying it was 
 ' visiting churches and cathedrals ; ' they went to no places of 
 amusement which they would have judged it inconsistent to 
 attend when at home. A lady once said to Mrs. Winton : ' Why 
 are you so scrupulous here ? We always think we have a right 
 to a little relaxing of the lines when we are abroad.' 
 
 "Mrs. Winton was standing by her dressing-table, and she, 
 without seeming to notice the remark, held out a case contain- 
 ing a valuable diamond ring and pin, saying : ' I might have lelt 
 those at home, I think ? ' 
 
 " ' By no means,' cried her visitor ; ' they are just as becoming 
 to you here as there ; they are too valuable to be left behind ; 
 wear them, to let people know what you are.' 
 
 " ' Jewels do not make people,' she replied ; ' I showed you 
 these as a parable. My religion becomes me as well abroad 
 as at home ; it was too valuable to be left behind. I will wear 
 it as best I can, to show what I profess to be.' 
 
 "After hearing this story, I did not wonder that foreign travel 
 had not injured the consistency, the simple common-sense, of 
 that family." 
 
 ' You remind me," said Hester, " that some people going 
 abroad strive to ape foreigners, to seem other than they are, 
 and to lose, eis far as possible, their nationality. This always 
 vexes my patriotism. I think this should suggest to us, that 
 God says that the citizenship of his people is in heaven, and 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 2[)7 
 
 that we should, as far as we can below, cultivate the manners 
 of our true city. Let us rejoice in our birthright, and teach 
 our children to glory in it." 
 
 " I remember," said Mary Watkins, " that our minister in a 
 sermon on Family Piety said, that we should, in setting up a 
 new home, begin by whole-heartedly consecrating it to God; 
 and as children are born into that home, each of them should 
 also be consecrated to him, so that our desire for, and earnest 
 expectation of, our child's salvation should be coexistent with 
 its life, and our training and example should carefully corre- 
 spond to that desire and hope." 
 
 " Yes," said Miriam, " we must be consistent in that training: 
 not try and rush toward heaven on Sunday, and then run 
 toward the world all the other days. in the week; half-waj' 
 doings do not succeed in business nor in housekeeping, ant' 
 they will not succeed in soul-training." 
 
 " This," I said, " is the ideal of a safe and happy home : tha't 
 it is founded in godliness, vocal with thanksgiving; guarded by 
 an entreated Prayer- Hearer ; and having children given from 
 their birth to God, the parents and children are found cheerily 
 serving the Lord day by day. V/hatever is good for the religious 
 growth of the parents — Scripture study. Sabbath-keeping, benev- 
 olence — will be good for the children, and they should be 
 trained to it; they have a right to have ensured to them the 
 blessings which God gives his servants, in this life and in the 
 hfe to come." 
 
 " It seems," said Hester, " that Mr. Carr has bought a big 
 Bible, and every morning reads a chapter to his family; he has 
 hired a seat in church and attends regularly with all his house- 
 hold, and has put his boys in the Sunday-school. Some one 
 told him that they were glad he had become a Christian. He 
 replied that he made no pretensions to that, but that he had 
 concluded that a family of children had a right to Relig^ion m 
 
258 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 the Home, inasmuch as it was a safeguard against crime and 
 pauperism, and an encouragement to thrift and respectability; 
 so he meant to go as far as he could toward securing it for his 
 boys, just as he tried to make them a tidy patrimony, and pro- 
 cure for them a good education." 
 
 " He has been stealing some of Aunt Sophronia's thunder,'' 
 said Miriam, smiling. 
 
 " I trust," I said, " that the truth he reads and hears will be 
 blessed to him until he really becomes a Christian ; it speaks 
 well for him that he is doing the best that he knows how to do. 
 This religion which Mr. Carr thinks will be advantageous for 
 his home, must be possessed by himself if he would impress it 
 upon his children. Remember, my dear girls, if you desire to 
 cultivate piety in your children, you must have yourself some- 
 thing better than a formal, cold, cautious, time-serving sort of 
 piety. There are no keener critics than the innocent, observant 
 eyes and thoughtful hearts of little children ; dare, yes, desire, to 
 be warm and enthusiastic in your Christianity if you would com- 
 mend it to your families as a thing worth striving for. Religion 
 should be shown forth as joyous, free, hearty, hopeful, if it would 
 enchain the ardent affections of childhood and youth; from 
 the Christian home let — 
 
 " ' The light of love shine over all.' 
 
 Rich or poor in its appointments, it should be cheery and 
 kindly, full of common interests and homely self-sacrifices, and 
 mutual confidences, and good order. Nowhere else should 
 things be more honestly what they seem. It is only by 
 home sentiments that home can be made a place whereto the 
 hearts of children can be firmly bound; by a happy and affec- 
 tionate home, children are held from wandering. There is little 
 hope of religious lives for children who are allowed to find 
 their pleasures away from their parents' guardianship, haunting 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 259 
 
 Strangers' homes, or unknown places of amusement, staying out 
 in the evenings and coming in late, unchallenged. If children 
 are to grow up godly, they must have the shelter which God 
 provided for them — their home. Being out late at night lies at 
 the beginning of nine-tenths of the courses of ruin which are on 
 record. Parents should insist on their children being home- 
 keepers, and then should make happy the home that keeps them. 
 How often do we hear quoted : 'Eternal vigilance is the price of 
 liberty?' Eternal vigilance is the price of family piety. The 
 parent should honorably face the fact, that his position demands 
 incessant, kindly guardianship of his child; the child's com- 
 panions should be well known to the parent; the home-training 
 of these, their morals, manners, mental characteristics, should 
 be well understood, and their influence over the child carefully 
 noted. If it is true that a man is known by the company which 
 he keeps, and that evil communications corrupt good manners, 
 can a parent be too watchful over the companionships of his 
 children ? So, also, the parents' vigilance must be extended 
 over the important matter of the child's reading. A child 
 should not be left, in its early simplicity and heedlessness, to 
 choose its own books ; not merely the kind of books should be 
 regarded, but their especial effects on their young reader, for 
 what is only a needed stimulus' to one mind might be danger- 
 ously exciting to another, and what might merely properly 
 develop the sympathies of one child might make another 
 morbid. Consider: do you want your child to be like this 
 book? Is its tone that which you desire in your child's 
 
 mind? " 
 
 " Oh, me," said Helen, " what a world of work it is to rear a 
 family! What a burden of responsibility!" 
 
 " Consider, my Helen," I replied, " that nothing is a world of 
 work which is systematically and earnestly carried on, which is 
 begun at the beginning and regularly proceeded with; and if 
 
■IQO THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 it were a world of work, a world of work is nothing when we 
 are training for eternity, when we have souls in keeping." 
 
 "And yet," said Mary Watkins, " how very different this 
 training thus far sketched is from the usual training of children ! 
 If this is the true way to bring children up, then most children 
 must be merely allowed to come up." 
 
 And yet is not this the model of the Family life, as God 
 designs it ? The Bible is the guide-book, the family code of laws, 
 and Christ is the desired Model for all, and he stands illuminat- 
 ing parents and children, and children's children ; 
 
 "As the reflection of a light 
 Between two burnished mirrors gleams. 
 
 Or lamps upon a bridge at night. 
 
 Stretch on and on before the sight, 
 Till the long vista endless seems." 
 
 "There is another thing which we must not forget," re- 
 marked Hester : " God sets servants and dependents in the 
 religious keeping of the Heads of Families. No home can 
 shut up itself in secret isolation; its circle forever widens; 
 the servants, the neighbors, the guests, all feel its extending 
 influence. Religion in the Family sheds its beneficent light 
 on all the homes near — as Shakespeare says : 
 
 " ' How far yon little candle sheds its ray ? 
 
 So shines a good deed in a naughty world.' " 
 
 "There is one thing more which I wish to suggest," said 
 Sara. " Children who feel that they are governed in accord- 
 ance with God's laws, that their parents are in their training 
 responsible to a higher Power, and looking toward the highest 
 good, yield the readiest obedience. Children so brought up 
 are more thoughtful, have more careful consciences, look more 
 narrowly toward the consequences of their acts. This reverence 
 for law, as a thing divine, secures them from many of the 
 crimes of youth." 
 
RELIGION IN THE HOME. 261 
 
 Martha came now to tell us our other guests were arriving, 
 As we rose, Hester quoted from her beloved Plato : 
 
 " 'And thus the tale has been told, and may-be for our salva- 
 tion, if we are obedient to the word spoken. Wherefore, my 
 counsel is, that we hold fast the heavenly way, and follow 
 after justice and virtue always, considering that the soul is im- 
 mortal and able to endure every sort of good and every sort 
 '>f evil. Thus shall we live, dear to one another and to Heaven, 
 both while remaining here, and when like conquerors in the 
 games we receive our reward.' " 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 
 
 fcUNT SOPHRONIA TELLS HOW TO ENTERTAIN FRIENDS ANU 
 
 STRANGERS. 
 
 iCi|| WAS working in my garden one day among my roses, 
 J)T| and I was thinking of the very many varieties of this 
 "" queen of flowers. I did not particularly notice by what 
 chain of association and subtilely linked thoughts my 
 mind passed on to the infinite varieties that there are in the 
 exercise of hospitality, that queen of social virtues. Nearly all 
 these varieties I have seen exercised, even in this one town and 
 its surroundings. There is ostentatious hospitality, for instance. 
 (Dne of our ladies here says, that she would not entertain com- 
 pany at all, unless she could do it handsomely: having a hand- 
 some guest-chamber, elegant table-furniture, plenty of servants 
 and stylish meals. Now, of course, she entertains for the sake 
 of herself, of gratifying her own vanity ; not for the good of 
 her guest. I told her so one day. She said : " Of course her 
 guest had the benefit of all the nice things." That is true. But 
 still if she had not these splendors, she would refuse a hos- 
 pitality which her guest might need. There again is spasmodic 
 hospitality : that is Mrs. Black's variety. She will branch out 
 once or twice a year into a fine, showy party, which the family 
 have been tired out preparing for, or for sake of which the 
 family table has been scrimped for weeks previously. To this 
 gay entertainment Mrs. Black invites all her friends. For it she 
 
 exhausts all her energies ; and during all the rest of the year 
 (262) 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 263 
 
 she never thinks of having a relative visit her, asking a friend 
 who drops in to stay to tea, inviting two or three acquaintances 
 for an afternoon, or a friend for the day. But, really, she and 
 her guests get very little gratification out of this spasmodic 
 hospitality: it is strained and burdensome. Again there is 
 nervous hospitality. I don't know a more striking instance of 
 that than Mrs. Smalley, Mary Watkins' mother. When Mrs. 
 Smalley is expecting guests, she is in a state of worry and 
 flutter for fear her house will not look well enough, or will be 
 less attractive than they expected, or less fine than they are 
 accustomed to. She does not simply arrange the best she has 
 in the best way which she knows, and then rest contented : there 
 is no content about it. She frets herself into a state of excite- 
 ment over rooms, bedding, table-furniture and food, and as soon 
 as her guests arrive this accumulated mass of anxieties falls on 
 them like an avalanche. She escorts them to her spare-room to 
 lay off their wraps. She discourses : 
 
 " I don't know as you'll be able to turn around here, this is 
 such a little bit of a place. I tell Smalley it isn't fit to invite 
 any one into. Smalley is so queer. He says : ' Why, if it does 
 for us it will do for our friends.' But, la, / want to give people 
 better than I have myself Vve always had to put up with poor 
 things, but I don't reckon you have. You don't care to wash 
 your hands? I wish I had nicer towels to offer you. I've 
 always been laying out to get some of those long, wide, 
 bordered damask-towels, but I never have. I hope you'll 
 excuse these. Shall we go down-stairs ? These are such 
 narrow, dark, crooked stairs I'm afraid you'll break your neck 
 on them. I tell Smalley we ought never to ask anybody to go 
 up them ; but, la, Smalley, he says, ' they're all that we've got.' 
 Now, my sister's front stairs are fit to go on. She has two pair. 
 But her things are always better than mine. I'm afraid you'li 
 find this sitting-room close: it's so low-ceiled; and it's too cold 
 
264 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 for you, of course. I cannot get this fire to act as it ought, 
 though I've worked at it all day. Do try this rocking-chair, 
 though it is a poor thing to offer you, enough to break one's 
 back; but that sofa is so stiff, and hard, and slippery, not near 
 so nice as you're used to. I'm sorry I can't make you more 
 comfortable, it worries me nearly to death." 
 
 And so she goes on: she is sure her tea is poor, not first 
 quality ; she cannot tell what has got into her bread ; the cake 
 is not half as good as she wanted it to be ; the preserves are not 
 fit to offer you ; the tongue is too salt ; you will not make out a 
 meal; she don't expect it when things are so poor; if you stay 
 all night, do excuse the fact that she has comforts instead of 
 blankets on the bed ; and the sheets are too coarse to offer you, 
 but she never can get things as she wants — and so on indefi- 
 nitely : really in a worry herself, and getting her guests into a 
 nervous state over her evident anxiety, while, in fact, all that 
 she has is good, neat and abundant. 
 
 What a contrast to this is Cousin Ann's common-sense hospi- 
 tality ? Cousin Ann always, for her own comfort and the good of 
 her family, has her house in the best order to which she can 
 attain : there is neither dust, litter nor rags. As her means have 
 gradually increased, so she has increased the furnishings and 
 conveniences of her house : it is none of it too fine to use, and 
 it is all thoroughly comfortable. She means to entertain her 
 own family nicely, and takes other people in on the same footing. 
 A thrifty housekeeper, her larder is never empty, she keeps 
 jellies and preserves on hood, and her cake-box is replenished 
 with something nice for a treat ; her table-linen is always hand- 
 somely done-up, and she has always a bunch of flowers, or a 
 moss-plate, or a growing fern as a centre-piece for her table 
 Guests, invited or accidental, are always welcomed heartily, and 
 Without apology ; they find everything in order ; no one seems 
 disturbed by their appearance. If Cousin Ann has not on het 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 266 
 
 best gown, she is not rendered miserable and apologetic thereby^ 
 for her dress is always clean, and her cap and collar in order, 
 and a white apron is always near at hand, and she meets friend 
 or stranger with a plain, quiet dignity, becoming to herself and 
 reassuring to them. If a surprise party rushes in on Cousin 
 Ann, it does not demoralize Jaer domestic arrangements, for if 
 the fires are not lit in spare-room and parlor, they are all laid 
 and ready to touch off with a matcJi ; people may come to stay 
 for a day, an evening, or a week : they are made welcome ; the 
 work moves on in the same order as usual. Cousin Ann does 
 not make " company ' of them, sitting with them in evident 
 anxiety to be looking after things elsewhere; but if there is 
 something for her to do, she ej^cuses herself calmly and attends 
 to it. She will bring her basket of mending or her pan of apples 
 to pare into the sitting-room, and chat merrily with her guests 
 while her fingers are flying. She sets before her friends what 
 happens to be on hand ; perhaps, if there is time, adding a plate 
 of biscuits, or a dish of broiled chicken ; makes no excuses, is 
 satisfied herself and takes it for granted that other people are. 
 
 Now, speaking of good kinds of hospitality, there is that kind 
 exercised by our minister's wife. It is truly the Biblical hospi- 
 tality, without grudging, shown first to fellow-Christians, then to 
 the poor, and then to people in general. Just let a colporteur, 
 an agent for a religious society, a poor minister travelling for 
 his health, a missionary, come to her house, and the house is 
 never too full or too poor to entertain him. I have seen her 
 take in a little old Indian evangelist and treat him like a king. 
 I told her once that with her young family and the constant 
 claims made on her time and thoughts, I should suppose this 
 hospitality would be a heavy tax; but she said that she just 
 made the guests part of the family and shared with them whaf 
 she had on hand, and so it did not seem burdensome. Hers is 
 Christian or unselfish hospitality, and in direct contrast with 
 
266 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 chat is the selfish hospitality of our member of Congress. I do 
 believe that man never invites a guest for a meal, a day or a 
 week, unless it is some one who will be of use to himself Let 
 any one come along, who will be of political service, and Mr. K. 
 opens his house ; nothing is too good ; his servants, his horse and 
 carriage, all he has are at his feet. His wife, is never too busy 
 or too feeble to have cake and coffee ready for a half dozen 
 politicians, or an oyster-supper for members of the bar, or a 
 county convention ; but when did any poor, sick, or old relation 
 or widow woman without means, or any little child, get hospi- 
 tality from him ? He offers what will come back to him in some 
 way or another : he uses the hospitality which can be reduced 
 finally to a cash return. When I was spending a winter with 
 my half-sister, I saw a sample of what you may call excessive 
 hospitality. She and her husband were both fond of company ; 
 they had a nice house and a nice income, but they taxed both 
 to the utmost in their entertaining. The children shared the 
 social instincts of the parents. The little ones had a fine play- 
 room, a large back-yard, and plenty of toys'; and they brought 
 in their little mates by the half dozen to stay all day Saturday, 
 or all of an afternoon, or to take a meal, or to stay all night. 
 The older children had their friends by the day, week, or even 
 month, especially if anything was going on in the city which their 
 friends in town or country would enjoy seeing. They had theii 
 charade parties, their tableaux parties, their musical evenings. 
 The parents gave a party now and then. They opened their 
 house every other Friday evening for a reception, with simple 
 refreshments ; their dining-room was a sort of hotel for all their 
 friends ; whoever was passing at meal-time dropped in ; if there 
 was a convention, or literary or ecclesiastical gathering of any 
 kind, they packed their house full of guests. My brother-in-law 
 would ask business acquaintances, almost strangers even, to 
 accept his hospitality for a week or so, while relations came for 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 267 
 
 SIX months at a time. Even the servants shared the mania: 
 if the cook's sister, or the chambermaid's cousin, or if the boy's 
 mother were " out of place for a time, they came to stop for two 
 or three days, and help do the work : they would not make a bit 
 of trouble ; " and so the kitchen almost always had a visitor. In 
 fact, my poor sister was nearly worn to death with her hospital- 
 ity ; she never had a week's rest to herself, except when she 
 shut the house, and fled. The excessive hospitality so destroyed 
 the privacy of their home, and used up their income, that I hes- 
 itated to go to visit them, felt uncomfortable in staying, and 
 never went again, though my sister said I had been a real rest 
 to her, entertaining her company, superintending her children 
 and sewing, and keeping her closets in order. 
 
 I often admire the hospitality exercised at Hester's : it may 
 truly be called elegant hospitality. There is no show, no excess ; 
 everything is in order and in quiet, good taste ; nothing seems 
 to be a trouble. The guests are all persons of refinement: 
 people of letters, artists, scholars whom it is a treat to meet ; the 
 conversation is improving ; the talk of these learned and widely- 
 travelled people seems to widen the sphere of one's own obser- 
 vation and experience : the very food on the table becomes a 
 theme of intellectual conversation. The olives and sardines 
 bring up anecdotes of I-taly, or descriptions of famous paintings ; 
 a Dutch cheese, like fairy godmother's pumpkin, becomes a 
 coach, and in it you ride off to Holland, and hear its thrilling 
 history discussed according to Motley ; a plate of dates entices 
 some Egyptian traveller to describe to you Pyramids, and to 
 elaborate the theories of Bunsen, Smyth and Osborne. 
 
 Mark and Miriam are also very hospitable, after the style of 
 Cousin Ann : simplicity, generosity and • a real satisfaction in a 
 guest's presence mark the'ir method of entertaining. Helen is 
 fond of company, but company burdens her more, as her house 
 lacks the thorough order of Miriam's : her children are more 
 
268 "^HE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 unruly, and she is always in arrears with her work, instead of 
 beforehand with it. She has improved since she began house- 
 keeping, but she will never reach the happy having a time and 
 a place for everything. 
 
 I think in our village we ought all to know how to entertain 
 with grace, liberality and simplicity, from the example we have 
 had in Mrs. Burr and Mrs. Winton. I notice that they do not 
 give many set entertainments, but they are always ready and glad 
 to have a friend drop in unceremoniously to tea, or to accept an 
 unexpected invitation heartily given. They have small, informal 
 gatherings: a few friends to dinner or tea. Mrs. Burr is so 
 ready to pick out strangers — young men come to begin business, 
 or study their profession, or lonely young girls come to teach : 
 she invites these for an evening to cheer them up, and let them 
 feel that some one has an interest in them. She notices, too, if 
 these strangers have uncomfortable boarding-places, or are not 
 feeling well, and they are asked to her house for a few days, or 
 for a week. Indeed, I observe that, with the exception of a few 
 chosen friends, the people whom she asks to stay with her for a 
 time are those who will receive some good in staying — people in 
 feeble health, or lonely, or rather poor. That is the way to 
 exercise hospitality so as to receive a blessing with it. 
 
 Considering carefully the subject of hospitality, and observing 
 how it is exercised, I concluded that we are liable in it to many 
 errors, and fail, from ignorance, in doing by it all the good we 
 may to others, or getting all the good we ought for ourselves 
 I thought it would not harm our good ladies to have the matter 
 well discussed, and I concluded to call it up at our Sewing 
 Society. I like to bring up there some useful theme on which 
 all are likely to have some ideas ; and the discussion improves 
 ourselves, and keeps out jarring, unkind or foolish talk. Accord- 
 ingly I managed to introduce the subject of hospitality, and we 
 talked it over pretty well, getting new views and improving ou; 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. '^(j;) 
 
 old ones; and then we resolved to lay it before our minister, 
 when he dropped in about an hour before tea, aitd to see what 
 he had to say about it. Our minister took to the subject ver)' 
 kindly, and when he was established in his arm-chair and we 
 were all quietly busy with our needles, he held forth in some- 
 thing of this style : 
 
 " In the first place, my friends, hospitality is a Christian duty. 
 It is not of the indifferent things which we can do or not do as 
 we like, but it is clearly enjoined upon us. We owe its exer- 
 cise to our fellows, in virtue of our common brotherhood in 
 Adam, and of our closer brotherhood in Christ. ' Be not for- 
 getful to entertain strangers ;" Use hospitality without grudging.' 
 And the law of hospitality is not merely a New Testament 
 law: the Old Testament recognized the stranger within the 
 gates as a probable part of the Jewish household. We have not 
 only * Biblical injunction but Biblical example: Abraham, re- 
 marking three toil-worn travellers passing his shady oaks at 
 Mamre, exercised a large hospitality, gave of his best, himself 
 as a servant waited on his guests, and so entertained the Lord 
 of Life and citizens of heaven. Rebecca, finding a wayfarer at 
 the well, invited him and his train to abide at her father's house 
 and became an ancestress of Christ ; Lot, si|ting in the gate of 
 Sodom, showed the hospitality learned of Uncle Abraham; the 
 old man of Gibeah shows kindness to the wayfarers in the street ; 
 Samuel sets aside the best meat for guests who shall come to 
 him in the land of Zuph. The priest of Midian, who entertained 
 Moses, lives forever in the annals of his son-in-law ; the house- 
 hold of Bethany received everlasting life and glory in enter- 
 taining the Lord, and short Zaccheus casts a long shadow over 
 the face of time as he runs to make ready for the prophet of 
 Galilee. The eSrIy church, as we learn from New Testament 
 notices and from early tradition, were given to hospitality, 
 and they had their example from their Master, for when two 
 18 
 
270 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 young men ' said to him, Rabbi, where dwellest thou ? he replied, 
 Come and seS; and they abode with him that night.' Now ii 
 hospitahty is a Christian duty, it is incumbent upon all Christians, 
 and this according to their ability ; for it is demanded of us ac- 
 cording to what we have, and not according to what we have not. 
 Christ twice fed a multitude on plain loaves of barley-bread and 
 some small fishes ; his blessing went with them and they were 
 enough. We do not read that the blessing altered the variety or 
 the quality of this plain food; it increased its quantity to meet 
 need. We shall none of us be likely to offer then a more simple 
 entertainment than our Lord, but let hearty good-will go with it 
 and it will be accepted, and we need not repine because our 
 ability is not greater. The recipients of our duty of hospitality 
 are indicated to us in the Scripture : servants of our Lord, our 
 fellow-kinsmen in Christ; and then it is said, ' Ye did it unto me,' 
 and we may entertain angels unawares. Our kindred, our 
 friends, have a claim on our hospitality, and especially the poor 
 who cannot pay it again, but whose account remains to be 
 settled by the God of the poor at the resurrection of the just. 
 The hospitality of a home should not have a superfluous mag- 
 nificence and display which overawes and embarrasses the guest, 
 making him feel ilL at ease and self-conscious, while the hospi- 
 tality itself becomes to the entertainer a burden too heavy to be 
 borne. Our hospitality should be easy, brotherly, ready, and 
 oiifered in that quiet simplicity which gives best opportunity for 
 the steady conduct of our ordinary home-life. The oriental says 
 to his guest, in a flower of speech : ' All that I have is yours ; 
 this is your house, command these servants, do as you please.' 
 The Christian host makes no such shallow pretension of 
 resigning the helm and headship : he intends to make his guest 
 happy, and to guide his home in its accustdhied .way. The 
 Scripture makes him responsible in a measure for the conduct 
 of the stranger within his gates. We should not admit to our 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 271 
 
 families those who will not exhibit to our children and servants 
 a discreet example ; if through any exigency such must come 
 among us, the heads of the household should exercise their right, 
 and quietly see that there is no infringement of their religious 
 life. 
 
 " No Christian family should permit a guest to speak lightly 
 of piety, or to carp at the Scriptures, or to profane God's name 
 and day. The Christian family has always in its midst one 
 choice and sacred guest — their Lord — and so they should allow 
 no other guests to do despite to him. This ground is covered 
 by the phrase, 'and the stranger within thy gates,' in the Fourth 
 Commandment. . This quiet, unostentatious, but unflinching 
 conduct of Home Piety in the presence of guests has often been 
 made ' an effectual means of convincing and converting sinners.' 
 The steady light of holiness shining in the Home has led the 
 stranger within the gates to the same clear shining." 
 
 " Well, really," said Mrs. Black, as our minister closed his 
 discussion, " that's been as good as a sermon. I don't know 
 but it has been better than a sermon, for it was shorter; we 
 were all interested in the subject at the very time it was talked 
 over ; we heard it sitting at our ease, without a draught from a 
 window, or the loss of our footstool to bother us ; we were not 
 distracted by anybody's new bonnet. Couldn't you give all 
 your sermons in that easy, off-hand way, Domine ? " 
 
 " If it has been such a good sermon," said Cousin Ann, " the 
 next question is, 'how much will we profit by it?'" 
 
 "I'm afraid it will be like the rest," said Mrs! Black ; "we say 
 they are very good, and show what we ought to do, but we 
 don't put them in practice. Indeed, Domine, after so long an 
 experience you must have got done expecting us to put the 
 theories in practice?" 
 
 " Experience has taught me that there will some seeds grow, 
 for I constantly see large harvests gathered on all sides ; and so, 
 if many seeds are lost, many must have thriven." 
 
272 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 We were then called out to tea, and the subject of hospitalitj' 
 was not resumed ; but I am quite sure its examination has done 
 some of us a deal of good. 
 
 As to this exercise of Hospitality, there are several points 
 which I have settled in my mind. I think no member of the 
 Family should disturb the home comfort by inviting any guest 
 especially disagreeable to any other member of the Family. I 
 think a husband should not give invitations, or desire to enter- 
 tain guests so freely, as to be a tax on his wife's health, or to 
 deprive' their children of her care. A wife on the other hand 
 should not receive so much company that she cannot properly 
 perform her duties in her home, or that she exceeds her 
 husband's means. I think that one should never stint, and 
 starve, and vex a family for a month or so, to launch out into a 
 showy party : the true hospitality is to share what we have 
 with a ready heart, that the recipient of the hospitality may not 
 feel burdened by it. I think it is foolish to furnish a parlor and 
 shut it up for the reception of occasional guests, considering it 
 too good for the use of the Family Circle, so that the children 
 feel awkward in it : our best things should be for our family. 
 Also, I think it is very foolish to pick out the largest, best, 
 sunniest room in the house, furnish it so well that we must 
 pinch other rooms to make that nice, and then keep it for a 
 guest-chamber, where five or six times in a year a few visitors 
 go to lay off hats and shawls, and where some guest stays, 
 perhaps, five or six weeks out of the fifty-two ; all the rest of the 
 year these best rooms are shut up and virtually wasted. Now, 
 I think, the b^est bed-room in the house should be the mother's 
 room, large enough to bring into it a sick child. The mother's 
 room should be airy and healthful, because on the health of 
 the parents the stability and comfort of the family depend. This 
 "mother's room" should be cheerful, so that the children 
 should like to go there and should have pleasant recollections of 
 it as a gathering-place. Let it be as well furnished as can be 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 273 
 
 afforded, a family head-quarters of good taste, and then, if 
 desired, stray visitors can be asked there to lay off their cloaks : 
 for mother's room should always be in good order, as an 
 example to daughters and servants. Friends who are staying 
 in the house will enjoy going for an hour to this pleasant room 
 to chat with their hostess as she sews or rests. I think rooms 
 that are shut up four-fifths of the time have a forbidding, dead- 
 and-alive, touch-me-not look, which repels the stranger who is 
 asked into them. 
 
 Another thing as to which I have made up my mind is, that 
 people, in striving to be hospitable, are not obliged to allow 
 guests to turn their houses upside down and abuse their hospi- 
 tality. One would almost think this an unnecessary remark, 
 but I have seen people upon whom courtesy was thrown away. 
 I know such an one got into our minister's house once, and that, 
 too, when the poor lady of the house was ill. Such a man 1 
 never saw: he would not sleep on a mattress, and insisted on a 
 feather-bed being borrowed for him ; then he said the bed-room 
 was too small and that his bed must be put into the study, and so 
 our poor minister was turned out of his refuge ; he scolded the 
 maids until they threatened to leave, and he complained of the 
 noise of the little children in their plays — excellent children 
 they are ; he insisted on the best parlor-chair, their handsomest 
 piece of furniture, being carried up into his room ; and he was 
 angry because he was requested to pay his own washing-bills, 
 when his income was twice that of our minister. Things got 
 to such a pass that the minister said he must leave the house, as 
 his presence was increasing the poor wife's illness. Some of 
 our church-members came to ask if I'd have him, and I said : 
 "No; I'd sooner take a lunatic." I am ready to exercise hos- 
 pitality, but not to utterly unworthy subjects ; if patience ceases 
 to be a virtue, so does hospitality. However, I think that was 
 an exceptional case. 
 
274 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 When Hester and I were among the mountains, we saw a 
 little log-house where a genuine hospitality was exercised. It 
 was on the road to a logging-camp, and the wood-cutters passed 
 by it on their journeys. Not far from the house was a cool 
 spring under some trees. The good woman of the house had 
 put in the shade some benches ; she kept some drinking cups 
 there, and had had a basin for washing hollowed out of a block 
 of wood, and she hung near it a good, long towel, which she 
 changed every day ; and here the workmen, hot, and hungry 
 and tired, passing by, could stop, rest, wash their faces, eat their 
 luncheon, and get a cool drink. When we noticed the arrange- 
 ments which she had made for the comfort of wayfarers, she 
 said: 
 
 "Ah, well, it's little I can do to make the world happier, but 
 I just thought Fd like a resting-place on this long, steep road, 
 so I fixed up that, and it's done good to others, and the blessing 
 of him that was ready to perish has come upon me!" 
 
 Hester was telling me lately of the true hospitality shown to 
 herself and Dr. Nugent when they were travelling in the West. 
 They were driving by themselves, and stopped at a cabin to try 
 and get bait for their horses. It was a plain little place, all the 
 furniture having been hewn out of the forest wood by the set- 
 tler himself While the horses were eating, the good woman of 
 the house came and asked Hester to rest by leaving the carriage 
 and coming into her house. She brought her a cup of rich 
 milk ; then, unasked, brought a pail of water that she might bathe 
 her face and hands and dress her hair after the long, hot ride. 
 In all that she did she showed an unaffected, hearty kindness, 
 which lent to her acts a grace which would have become any 
 lady in the land. When she saw that Hester admired some 
 specimens of minerals and some woodland curiosities, she 
 insisted on her taking them ; and as inquiries were made about 
 the flowers in the vicinity, she hurried off to bring some which 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 275 
 
 she thought very pretty, and which proved to be very rare and 
 valuable. Hester was very glad that she had in her portman- 
 teau a number of articles which she could bestow on her hostess, 
 and which were gladly accepted when she learned that, as 
 Hester would find her trunks that evening, they could b^ well 
 spared. 
 
 Mrs. Burr, one winter, set all our town an example of charity 
 and hospitality akin to that of the good Samaritan. One after- 
 noon as snow was falling, a young woman, accompanied by a 
 boy of five, asked leave to rest and dry herself at the kitchen 
 fire. Mrs. Burr, seeing her enter the yard, went to the kitchen 
 to inquire into her case, and ordered her a cup of hot tea 
 Seeing that she looked very feeble, and hearing her painful 
 cough, the kind lady next insisted on her putting on dry gai- 
 ments, shoes and hose which she gave her. Mrs. Burr said to 
 her servant : 
 
 " Kitty, if you would give that poor little child a hot bath, I 
 have a suit of clothes that Ned wore long ago, which you might 
 put on him." 
 
 Kitty agreed with alacrity, and the child, having then a bowl 
 of bread and milk, felt very comfortable. The poor mother, 
 however, looked exhausted and feverish. The storm increased. 
 Mrs. Burr said she could not send so helpless a creature out in 
 such weather, so Kitty made a fire in a bed-room, gave the 
 invalid a hot bath and some medicine, and put her to bed. 
 Twice in the night Mrs. Burr went to visit her patient, and early 
 in the morning sent for young Doctor Winton. As the woman 
 grew worse, Mrs. Burr waited on her as if she had been her 
 sister. After three weeks' illness, the stranger died. She told 
 Mrs. Burr that she was a destitute widow going to her early 
 home ; and Mrs. Burr wrote to the minister in the village which 
 she indicated, asking him to seek out her relatives, and let her 
 know if they would take the child. The minister replied that 
 
276 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 they would do so, if he could be sent to them, but they were 
 very poor. Mrs. Burr buried the woman decently, and con- 
 cluded to keep the §by, training him for a house-sei-vant until 
 he was old enough to learn a trsde. All the village became 
 interested in the poor stranger, and sent things to her while she 
 was ill, and helped bury her. Now that was a hospitality such 
 as Christ recommends, which is shown to the poor, the halt, the 
 blind, the lame, who can offer no compensation, and so the 
 return is left to Him. 
 
 I think the very poor often set us an example of genuine hos- 
 pitality — how they divide their narrow meal with a hungry 
 neighbor; how they share their fire and their shelter with those 
 who lack. One of the most hospitable women in our town is a 
 poor washerwoman. I think in winter she always has warming 
 at her fire some cold little body whose mother is off for a day's 
 work, or some little chap who has nowhere to go after school, 
 or some little working-boy who does errands, cuts wood and 
 cleans side-walks. There is always a place on her stove to boil 
 the soup or meat of some one who must save firing ; she says, 
 " it is no trouble to her, for her fire must be kept up." Two or 
 three poor neighbors would hardly ever get their clothes 
 washed for want of soap and warm water, only she makes them 
 welcome to her suds when her washing is done. Indeed, she is 
 a public benefactor, and with no means of exercising hospi- 
 tality but a small, bare room and a fire, she yet sets us all an 
 example of a hearty, thoughtful sharing of that little with those 
 who need. 
 
 One of the most remarkable instances of hospitality which I 
 ever knew happened thus : I was making a short summer visit 
 to a second cousin ; she had a very large house, and a good 
 income. As we sat one Saturday afternoon in the front room, 
 her husband remarked : " There is Mr. Potter, his wife, his 
 mother and his three children. They have come off the boat, 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. . 277 
 
 and are going toward the hotel, but I don't believe he can 
 afford to pay his way there. Shall I ask them in to stop over 
 Sunday ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes: do," said my cousin, heartily. 
 
 The good man then ran out and brought in his guests. My 
 cousin was only slightly acquainted with Mr. Potter; he knew 
 that he was a Methodist preacher who had been obliged to 
 cease preaching on account of a bronchial disorder. That my 
 cousin belonged to another church made no difference to him : 
 he felt that all the children of God are one family. He dis- 
 covered that, with very little money in his pocket, Mr. Potte;/ 
 was looking for something to do ; he thought he had secured a 
 school, and, suddenly disappointed, he found himself with his 
 helpless family on his hands, strangers in a strange place. My 
 cousin kept making him welcome in his home, until their joint 
 efforts should secure him a place to labor. In fact, the who'/e 
 family stayed a full year, and another child was born to them 
 imder this hospitable roof At last Mr. Potter so far recovered 
 that he was able to secure a small church ; then my cousin said : 
 " Your family is large : leave your old mother here; I can take 
 better care of her than you can." So indeed the old lady stayed, 
 and stayed nine years. My cousin said she never begrudged 
 the hospitality shown her, for she seemed to bring a blessing to 
 the house, as the Ark of God to Obed-Edom. I am sure, for 
 rny part, that the faithful Lord will never forget to settle such 
 an account as that in the mansions higher up. 
 
 After our discussion at the Sewing Society, of hospitality, the 
 subject was called up one evening at our Literary Circle. There 
 we sometimes give out a theme, and having distributed strips 
 of paper, each member writes down a. sentence, either their own 
 or some quotation, on the subject, and these being read, the 
 various opinions so elicited are discussed. When Hospitality 
 was the theme, these are some of the sentences handed in : 
 
278 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Hospitality is the reception and entertainment of strangers 
 or guests, without reward." — Webster. 
 
 " Hospitality I have found as universal as the face of man " 
 — Ledyard. 
 
 "The derivation of this word is from hospes, a guest; thence 
 hospital, a place for receiving guests, a refuge for those in need; 
 formerly freely applied to schools and endowed institutions of 
 learning : thereafter applied to places for the reception of the 
 sick or injured. Knights Hospitallers were a chivalric order of 
 the middle ages, devoted to the succor of pilgrims to the holy 
 sepulchre, and to the promotion of learning. Their head- 
 quarters were first at Jerusalem, and then at Malta ; their defence 
 of Malta against the sultans was one of the most gallant achieve- 
 ments of history.'' 
 
 " Hospitality seems to be of the noblest instincts of the heart; 
 a primitive virtue, most warmly exercised in early and un- 
 tutored ages. It was especially a virtue of our ancestors, and 
 seems to be rather dying out, than increasing, in the light of 
 civilization." 
 
 "Hospitality: a charming virtue, perishing gradually under 
 the inroads of steam-cars and a hotel system." 
 
 After reading these, and other sentences, we began to discuss 
 the question whether the grace of hospitality was decreasing. 
 The extravagance of the present age, the emulation in the style 
 of living, and the false shame felf at living plainly, were alleged 
 as reasons why people now less freely than formerly entertained 
 guests. The increased means of locomotion, whereby the cor- 
 rupt classes of the cities passed more freely from place tc place, 
 rendering people suspicious of strangers, and not willing tc 
 entertain them,, was another reason offered for a decrease in that 
 genial hospitality wherewith our forefathers received each be- 
 lated traveller, and made him welcome to their hearth. Cousin 
 Ann told us that her pastor, a holy old man, years ago, when 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 273 
 
 two nice-looking young men stopped to ask their way, bad;; 
 them, as it was late, dark and stormy, to remain all night. The)- 
 came in gladly, were seated at the family table, and spent the 
 ■-vening in the family circle, chatting pleasantly. They knelt 
 It prayers, when the good man asked for a blessing on the 
 strangers within his gates. The next day the tempest was 
 heavier, and the two were invited to tarry ; on the next day they 
 set out. Three days after that they were arrested as notorious 
 housebreakers. The minister had in his house and on his table 
 a good deal of silver, heired by his wife, his quarter's salary 
 lay in his unlocked desk, but these two Ishmaels of society 
 found all that belonged to their saintly host sacred in their 
 eyes. 
 
 Mr. Burr said that before the electric telegraph, the steam-car, 
 and the daily paper, people in the rural districts were so far cut 
 off from the news of the world that a passing traveller, judge, 
 schoolmaster, day-laborer or peddler was to the family in lieu 
 of a post-bag of letters, and a whole file of newspapers; the 
 information which he brought, seeming to put them into contact 
 with their fellows, largely repaid all favors, in the shape of bed 
 and board, bestowed upon him. From the host down to the 
 smallest child, and to the maid in the kitchen, a guest came as a 
 benediction. 
 
 Hester reverted to yet earlier times, when wheeled convey- 
 ances were almost unknown ; highways were infested with rob- 
 bers, and roads were full of ruts two feet deep ; when books were 
 only in manuscript, or were worth almost their weight in gold ; 
 then a travelling troubadour, harper, or tale-teller, was as the 
 commg to the house of a whole library. The family welcomed 
 him, and gave him of their best, and besought him to remain 
 long; they learned his tales and songs to beguile the tedium 
 of their winters ; if any of them could write, they made copies of 
 his parchments, to keep among their choicest treasures. So 
 
280 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 when the early Lollards of Wyckliffe's day began to go about 
 the country, carrying portions of the Scriptures and of religious 
 '•orks in written rolls, and preaching the gospel, they were 
 received with joy; their little books were copied; they were 
 detained as long as possible to instruct the family and the 
 retainers, and thus the hospitality which seems indigenous in 
 England secured the spread not only of learning but of true 
 religion, and the general awakening of mind and independence, 
 which finally led to the securing of national liberty. Thus has 
 English hospitality been largely blessed to England. 
 
 Mrs. Winton thought that instead of complaining of the 
 demands upon our hospitality, we should rejoice in the exercise 
 of this virtue, and cherish it lest it should become as a "lost; 
 art" to future generations. That is a very lovely story hov/' 
 Cowper was entertained for years as a guest, and Dr. WattJi 
 going for a short visit remained with his host for forty years. 
 
 Mrs. Black smartly retorted that it "would be all well enough 
 if one could be sure of entertaining Cowper or Watts : for her part 
 she would not mind having the author of ' John Gilpin's Ride' 
 for a visitor. But, now-a-days, if one exercised promiscuous 
 hospitality, one might show the most of it to a troop of tramps, 
 who were thieves and cut-throats, and to entertain whom, even 
 for a meal, was to encourage idleness and pauperism. She did 
 not wonder that in the light of so many barn-burnings, and with 
 the record of so many murders and child-stealings, hospitality to 
 unknown individuals was falling into a decline and like to die; 
 for her part she would willingly attend its funeral." 
 
 " The question," said our minister, " is, like many questions, 
 typed by the British Shield in the fable, which had one side of 
 gold and one of silver, and about the material of which it was 
 not well to dispute hotly until one had looked at both sides. 
 There is a use of hospitality which, like mercy, was twice 
 blessed : blessing him who gives and him who takes. There is 
 
HOSPITALITY IN THE HOME. 281 
 
 .ilso an abuse of hospitality, as when one fostered by it itinerant 
 idleness, rude, ungracious assumption, or received a vicious 
 guest." 
 
 Miriam reminded us of the beautiful picture of hospitality 
 which Milton draws in the Fifth Book of " Paradise Lost," 
 where he represents Eve making ready the entertainment of her 
 guest, Adam beguiling the day by accounts of the garden-life 
 since the creation, and both the first pair seated, attentively 
 listening to the discourse of their guest. 
 
 "The relation between a guest and his host," said Mr. 
 Winton, " has always been considered very sacred. The Home 
 spreads its aegis of protection over all who come under its roof: 
 to murder or rob a guest, or a host, has been esteemed the very 
 extremity of wickedness. The wildest Arab protects him who 
 aas eaten of his salt ; if one of our Indians offered the calumet 
 of peace to a stranger and led him into his wigwam, then he 
 was that stranger's defender until he went forth in peace. The 
 Levitical law forbid returning to his master a fugitive slave 
 who had made one's roof his refuge. The most reckless of the 
 Afghan robbers will protect to the utmost a man who is his 
 guest, even though he should be willing to waylay and assassi- 
 iiiite him after he has gone out from under his shelter. I have 
 never read of any land or tribe where hospitality was unknown, 
 and truly this grace of the barbarian should shine better and 
 brio-hter in the civilized man and the Christian. Let us make a 
 point to cultivate it, especially in our families, so that this virtue, 
 and the blessings attending on it, may descend to our children's 
 children, and that Hospitality may revive and not die out in the 
 nineteenth century." 
 
 But I think that one of the very choicest forms of Hospitality 
 is one that peculiarly belongs to people in the country, or in 
 small villages. Of late the charitably inclined in cities have 
 been appealing to those living in rural districts to receive into 
 
282 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 their houses, for a little time in the summer, the worn-out, indigent 
 workers of the city, or poor little city children. Seamstresses, 
 shop-girls, tradeswomen, exhausted, needing a change of air, 
 unable to pay for such a luxury, would have minds, bodies and 
 hearts revived by being accepted as unpretending guests, readj 
 to take the plainest room, glad to lend a hand in home-work 
 thankful for a share of the ordinary family meals; city friends 
 would pay their travelling expenses ; the farm-house would not 
 find itself encumbered by one or two such visitors — incljcd, the 
 healthful, peaceful life of the farm would grow more and more 
 beautiful to country people's view beheld through these admir- 
 ing, wondering eyes of the honest city poor, who revel in a 
 dandelion or a daisy, who esteem buttenn 'k the choicest pos- 
 sible beverage, and a live chicken a thing to gaze at by the 
 hour. What draughts of joy and health these weazened chil- 
 dren from crowded, narrow city streets or sunless attics drink in 
 the glorious country! They may live to be healthful, cour- 
 ageous men and women by virtue of these tumbles in the hay, 
 this going after berries, and driving home the cows. Cousin 
 Ann every summer has a succession of such guests, and the 
 boys fitted up three little rooms over the tool-house, making 
 most of the furniture themselves, for the accommodation of three 
 more of these strangers sent by city clergymen and friends; 
 while for a month every summer the best spare-room is occu- 
 pied by some city missionary, to whom costly summer resorts 
 would be an impossibility. It makes no matter if Reuben and 
 Ann have not met him before: he and his wife and a child oi 
 two are welcomed as kinsmen in Christ Here indeed is tru« 
 Hospitality. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 
 ADNl SOPHRONIA's VIEWS OF THE COMPANY WE SHOULD KEEP. 
 
 DO not think our village is worse than any others ; but 
 surely it is not better than others in the matter of keeping 
 children and young folks off the streets, and in good 
 comj)any. As I went to Helen's lately, I found Tom 
 frolicking in the street with a number of little fellows who havo 
 no advantages of home-training, who fight and use bad words. 
 I took Tom with me to his own house, and when he was safel3r 
 playing in his own back-yard, I began to reason with his mother 
 concerning him. Having mentioned the boys with whom I had 
 found him playing, I asked : " Now, Helen, does it seem to 
 3'ou that God has given Tom, in the birth which he has assigned 
 him, any advantages over these children — any better oppor- 
 tunities ? " 
 
 " Why, of course, he has," said Helen. 
 
 " And then, are you not recklessly throwing away for Tom this 
 birthright, are you not nullifying these privileges, by casting 
 his lot in with these less fortunate ones, subjecting him to their 
 temptations, putting him in the way of the evil example which 
 they find in their homes ? Little Teddy Buck has no yard to 
 play in, no home but a grog-shop. Society which is better off 
 does owe Teddy a helping hand, but a child like Tom is not the 
 proper missionary. Tom will learn evil of Teddy, and Teddy 
 will get no good from Tom. Tom has been allotted by Provi- 
 dence a nice yard in which to play, but in permitting him to run the 
 
 (283) 
 
284 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 streets you put him as far as yoH can in Teddy's place, and sup 
 jcct him to the transmitted evil influences of the bar-room. Tom 
 is happy in having a father who would use no profane nor vulgar 
 language, but you allow him to associate with Jim Green, whose 
 mouth is full of the vice and blasphemy which he hears from his 
 father. You would be shocked at having a gambler like James 
 Wall admitted into your society, but here your own son, ' playing 
 for keeps ' on the corner, is learning to be what you loathe. 
 Mike Flannagan is coarse and dirty. Suppose Tom asked him 
 into your sitting-room ? You would be angry, and yet, as we grow 
 like our associates, you are allowing Tom to grow like Mike; 
 Flannagan, and by-and-by, instead of a son to be proud of, and 
 a companion and protector of his sisters, he will be a foul little 
 ruffian, fit only to disgrace you." 
 
 " Oh, aunt," cried Helen, tears in her eyes, " you are too 
 severe." 
 
 " No, my dear, not a bit. This is plain, hard truth, which other 
 people would not venture to tell you, but in a few years, if Tom 
 turns out a reprobate, these same sinfully silent friends would 
 say : 'Ah, I knew how Tom would turn out : from the way his 
 mother let him run the streets, what else could she expect?' 
 Now I tell you in time, so that you may take counsel and 
 t'scape trouble." 
 
 " But, aunt," said Helen, putting herself on the defensive, " we 
 cannot keep our children always from contact with the world, 
 nor from the evil that is in it." 
 
 " Very true, but God gave them homes and parental care, to be 
 their shelter, until they are established in virtue, love truth, and 
 can resist temptation. The child's training is always different 
 from the man's action, although it served to fit him for it. You 
 strengthen the child's stomach on milk and on delicate food, 
 that it may grow capable later of digesting meat ; you expect 
 your child to walk, and because you expect that, you do not set 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 283 
 
 a child of a week old to bearing its weight on its boneless, legs, 
 or you would have not an athlete but a cripple." 
 
 Hester had been sitting with Helen, and she added : " Plate 
 says, 'A young man who is good is apt to be deceived by 
 V>thers, because he has no pattern of evil in himself: therefore a 
 judge should be advanced in years, and his youth should have 
 been innocent, and he should have acquired experience of evil 
 hte in life by observation.' What is good for forming a just 
 judge is good for forming any man, and here the demand is for 
 an innocent youth, segregated from vice, and learning of evil, 
 not by crime-committing and remorse, but by seeing its effects 
 upon society in general." 
 
 " Oh," said Helen, " I see you are both against me. I only 
 wish you knew how crazy Tom is after some one to play with, 
 and how hard it is to keep him within bounds." 
 
 " My child ! " I exclaimed, " the very hardness of the task 
 shows you how needful it is to perform it. If it is hard now, if 
 Tom is left to the freedom of his own will, by the time he is 
 fifteen he would be past all control ; and that it i? ' :a does not 
 lessen your maternal duty. Consider the usefulness of Tom's 
 life: all the happiness of your later years, the credit of your 
 family, the well-being of an immortal soul, hang on your per- 
 formance of duty. Oh, that you might see that duty now as 
 clearly as you will see it if ever it becomes too late to see and 
 do." 
 
 "Cousin Helen," said Hester, "don't blame Tom for being 
 ^jnd of playmates and company. Man is a social animal ; the 
 child only shares the nature of his kind. You do not desire 
 him to be a hermit or a cynic, although that would be 
 better than a rowdy or a criminal. If he is to sway men or 
 succeed among them, he must begin by leading the hfe of a 
 citizen, not of a misanthrope. Doubtless there are mothers who 
 have seen sons go to the gallows, or the penitentiary, or have 
 19 
 
iSQ THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 followed to a premature grave the victim of debauchery, who, 
 if they had been true to their maternal task, might have seen 
 their children standing in the highest places of state, or church, 
 or science, and dying have been followed by the lamentations of 
 a whole people." 
 
 "Why," said Helen, "you speak as if it all rested with 
 mothers, but some who have had no mothers or have had bad 
 mothers have done very well." 
 
 " We see now and then in nature," said Hester, " unexpected 
 or abnormal growths, developments which are exceptions to a 
 usual law, but we expect what conforms to the law. From a 
 poor stock a better scion may spring ; but rule is, good stock, 
 good scion, and we do not trust to poor stock for better things. 
 If I tossed a valuable bulb or root out on that garden-bed it 
 might take root and thrive, but I should be almost absolutely 
 certain of its thriving if I carefully planted and cultured i1 
 according to its kind. Do not, Helen, try to escape the facl 
 that parents are the architects of their children's future. Socrates 
 said : 'A golden parent may have a silver son, and a silver 
 parent a golden son, or perchance the son of a golden or silver 
 parent may have an admixture of brass or iron.' But all this, 
 my cousin, will be because there entered gold, or silver, or brass, 
 or iron, into parental training." 
 
 " But," said Helen, " I do try to train up Tom as well as I 
 know." 
 
 " Helen," I said, " consider this reasonably : you try in the 
 house to make Tom a gentleman ; you check a bawling tone, you 
 cultivate a polite reply, you reprimand him if he calls names, 
 and you are pleased if any one notices that his manners are 
 refined. This you do in the house, half an hour or so ; then he 
 goes out on the street, he whoops like an Indian, knocks off the 
 cap of some passing child, squabbles over his marbles, and flings 
 dust in the face of his opponent, and finally relieves his mind by 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IM THE HOME. 287 
 
 yelling at htm that he is " a dumb old blunderbuss ; ' then dodging 
 from a stone thrown in revenge for the epithet, he stumbles into 
 old Mrs. Petty, hobbling along to visit her daughter, and almost 
 throws the dame into the gutter." 
 
 " He deserves a good whipping," cried Helen, indignantly. 
 
 " But, Helen, he was acting exactly like the company which 
 you allowed him to be in ; he merely yielded to the temptations 
 of the position in which you had placed him. In his own yard, 
 playing with lads of your choice, Tom would have done none 
 of these things; your letting him run with wild, bad children 
 destroys your own teaching. Suppose you do teach him the 
 Commandments : if you let him play with children who, in his 
 presence, break hourly the third, the fifth, the ninth and the 
 tenth, the example will be far more potent than the precept. 
 We are members of a fallen race, Helen, and evil seizes on us 
 with a far stronger hold than good. Helen, your own conscience 
 shows you your duty : do not let pride or indolence ruin the soul 
 of your son." 
 
 " But what shall I do ? " cried Helen. 
 
 " Why," said Hester,- in her matter-of-fact way, " here is a card ; 
 now write down on it the names of four or five boys who in your 
 view are fit playmates for Tom. Then call in Tom : tell him it is 
 time you made new rules for him ; that hereafter he cannot play 
 outside of his own yard, unless it is in the yard o{ some one 
 whom by your permission he is visiting. Tell him these boys 
 named on the card are the boys )vhom he is to go with, and if 
 the circle is increased it will be by you. Tell him that you 
 shall permit no infringement of these laws ; and inasmuch, Helen, 
 as you are not very forcible in maintaining your rules, I'd 
 advise you to lay the case before Frank, and have him positively 
 re-affirm this judgment." 
 
 Helen, with a few suggestions from us, wrote her card and 
 dien sent for Master Tom. As he was coming, she said to 
 
288 THE COMPLETE ffOME. 
 
 Hester : " You begin the matter : you know how to <get on with 
 boys and I don't." 
 
 In came Tom. 
 
 Said Hester : " Tom, I'm going to take a boy out to Cousin 
 Ann's to spend the day to-morrow, and I shall pay no regard to 
 relationship in choosing him. Shall I take you or Mike Flan 
 nagan ? " 
 
 "Take me," spoke up Tom, confidently. 
 
 " Why, what better claims have you ?" asked Hester. 
 
 " I've — I've got the best clothes," said Tom. 
 
 "As for that, I can easily buy Mike as good a suit." 
 
 "Oh, come now, Cousin Hester," argued Tom, "you don't 
 want him round a lady like you. Why, Mike swears awful, and 
 he uses such grammar you wouldn't know what he was saying; 
 and he lies — oh, you couldn't believe one word he said to you 
 all day!" 
 
 " Humph, a pretty boy for you to be playing with ! How 
 long will it take you to grow like him ? If you run with him 
 much longer, are you likely next year to be any better company 
 'for a lady' than he is?" 
 
 Tom crimsoned and hung his head. 
 
 " I'm not like Mike yet,'' he mumbled. 
 
 "I did not, think you were acting very kk///^^ him when I 
 brought you off the street," I remarked. 
 
 Then Helen showed him her card, and laid down her new 
 rules, with more authority than she usually shows. Tom stood 
 looking perplexed, but Hester went on smoothly as if it were 
 part of the plan. "And as you will want to have a good time 
 in your own yard, you . are to have a row of pop-corn of your 
 own planting all along the back fence ; and the top room of the 
 wood-shed you can clear out for your boys to have shows, pan- 
 oramas, and so on, in ; and your father is going to put up some 
 poles and such things for gymnastics for you, and when hot 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 289 
 
 weather comes, I intend to lend you my smallest tent to set up 
 in your yard, for your use, if you will take care of it. But 1 
 should be sorry to suggest the dreadful things which are likely 
 to befall you, if you do break rules and run the street." 
 
 " Catch me running the street," quoth Tom, " if I can have 
 BOYS here to play with, and things to pl^ with, and if I know i 
 daren't." 
 
 Off ran Tom to examine the capacities of the top room of the 
 wood-shed. Said Hester, smiling: "There is sound philosophy 
 in Tom's remark : 'If I know I daren't.' The human heart was 
 made to be controlled by law, and it craves law. When I was 
 at college, our lady principal, like the knight of old, had a hand 
 of steel in a velvet glove. The velvet glove handled all things 
 with genial courtesy, but if any one began to slip off into the 
 ways of error, the steel hand under that velvet glove settled 
 firmly down on the culprit with the grasp of a vice. To rebel 
 was bootless : there was that calm, silent authority. One of our 
 elder girls, who had lived utterly without restraint at home, was 
 telling us one day how different school rule was from home 
 rule. One said to her : ' How can you stand such a change, 
 then ? How does it seem to you ? ' She considered a while, 
 and replied : ' There is a great satisfaction in feeling safe — that a 
 law is right, and as long as you abide by it you are easy and 
 fre't from danger.' " 
 
 " There is almost no point, Helen," I said, " in which this 
 parental or Home authority can be more legitimately exercised 
 than in regard to thf; friendships of our children. The family is 
 not a unit, cast alor/e into space : it is one of many Which make 
 up the grand sum total of the race ; in every department of life 
 we touch on our fellows ; we were born social animals, and we 
 will exercise our social instincts, each for himself the centre of 
 concentric circles, the sacred, inner circle of close friendships, 
 the next of daily acquaintances, the next of business acquaint- 
 
290 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ances, and the wide, outer circle of an unknown world. The 
 little child must have friends, but knows nothing how to choose 
 friends ; his parents must choose for him. Helen, you must sub- 
 ject the moral character, the natural traits, the home-training, 
 the manners, the language, the pursuits of your children's com- 
 panions to the closest scrutiny.'' 
 
 " Oh, how can I constantly remember so much ! " 
 
 " Why, child, you did all this in making out that card. You 
 chose the minister's little son because he was good and so well 
 trained ; two little Carr boys because their manners and language 
 had been so well guarded ; you rejected one boy because he was 
 so notoriously passionate, and you put the son of the tailoress 
 on the top of your list because he is known as one of the best 
 boys in town. Use always the care and judgment you have in 
 making this list." 
 
 On my way home from Helen's I called on Mrs. Black, and 
 as I sat with her we saw Belinda passing, with Maria Sellers. 
 Mrs. Black exclaimed : " I do wish Belinda would not go so 
 much with Maria ; Maria is a bold girl, always running about 
 the streets, and talking of young men ; her manners are noisy, 
 and she is very silly.'' 
 
 " If you do not like the friendship, Mrs. Black," I said, "why 
 do you not break it off? Mothers have a right to choose the 
 friends of their daughters. If you do not exercise your right, 
 and so give Belinda the benefit of your wider experience and 
 more mature judgment, she is in that respect no better off than 
 a poor orphan. God gave parents their training in long disap- 
 pointments, and broken faiths, and looks down unfathomable gulfs 
 of wickedness, that mighty ruin caused by taking false coin of 
 friendship for their own sincerity, that they might know how to 
 shield their children from temptation, or to deliver them when 
 they are tempted. If you had received a fortune you would 
 make Belinda a sharer in it, and not turn her out a pauper to beg 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 291 
 
 from door to door ; and you have received this fortune of expe- 
 rience, and of seeing the effects of certain causes, and certain 
 ends from certain beginnings and to know where danger lies, 
 and yet you disinherit Belinda from that, and let her take her 
 own chance of being harmed by harmful friends. There is 
 nothing more important to children than the friendships which 
 they form, and parents should look to it." 
 
 This subject of Home Friendships being in my mind, I went 
 one day to call at the parsonage, and our minister said : " Miss 
 Sophronia, suggest to me a text for a sermon: something of 
 popular interest." 
 
 " I cannot si/ggest to you a text," I said, " but I will give you 
 a subject on which I really wish you would preach, and that, is 
 Friendships in the Home. I do not think people generally know 
 how important a part our friendships play in our moral and 
 spiritual lives. I do not think parents understand their respon- 
 sibility for the friendships formed by their sons and daughters. 
 There must be common-sense law, and God's law to govern it. 
 So let us have your opinions on it." 
 
 Our minister replied that he would think about it, and a few 
 weeks after, he, having announced the theme a week before, 
 preached on Friendships in the Home, taking for his text: 
 " Because thou hast joined thyself with Ahaziah, God hath 
 broken thy works." He enlarged on our Christian duty of 
 forming suitable friendships for ourselves and our families. He 
 spoke of the instinct of friendship as indigenous in the heart of 
 man — a plant of Eden which had not been rooted up by the 
 tempest of the Fall, but had bloomed in every age. He spoke 
 of the divine warrant for our friendships ; of Enoch, who walked 
 with God ; of Moses, who talked with God as a man does with 
 his friend ; of Abraham, who was known as the friend of God ; 
 of the tender friendship which bound David and Jonathan; of 
 Christ loving and choosing the seventy and tJie twelve, and then 
 
292 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 the special three, Peter, James and John, for his particular friend* 
 ship, and of that tender friendship with the household in Beth- 
 any. God sends his people out two by two', and family by 
 family, and gives the social tie; and as "iron sharpeneth iron, 
 so doth the countenance of a man his friend." But over the 
 exercise of this instinct of friendship God keeps watch: qui 
 friendships are amenable to law ; there must be reason in the 
 choice ; the natural instinct rises to the higher level of logical 
 preference. False friendships distract and torture us ; the friend- 
 ship of the wicked betrays us into danger, and brings us to judg 
 ment : there was wrath on Jehoshaphat because he loved them 
 that hated the Lord. If our friends cannot be bound to be dear 
 lovers of our other friends, it is yet impossible that, holding that 
 relation to us, they should be their enemies. So a Christian can- 
 not choose for a friend the foe of his Lord ; the moral man can- 
 not choose the immoral ; the law-abiding cannot choose the law- 
 hater. In fact, one of the chief elements in friendship is sympa- 
 thy ; and so are we known by the company which we keep, and 
 are judged to be as our friends are. The friend of one member 
 of the family is brought into contact with all ; this friend then 
 should be damaging to none. The parent must not choose a 
 friend who would be injurious to his child: the husband, a man 
 whom he cannot introduce to his wife; the mother cannot 
 choose a foolish-tongued woman who would be a bad example 
 to her daughter; the brother, a youth unfit for the society of his 
 sister. Friends can bring into our homes moral poison, or honey 
 from the hives of Hybla ; there is no law of hospitality which 
 would bid us open our doors any sooner to the bringer-in of 
 discord, or unfaith, or vice, than to the housebreaker, the murderer 
 or the bringer-in of contagious diseases. Keep the sanctuai^ 
 of Home inviolate. Satan knows the power of evil friendships, 
 and he strives tp destroy innocent youth by evil companionship. 
 Are you, parents, on your guard against this device of the devil ? 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 293 
 
 Are you choosing the friends of your children, or are you leav- 
 ing them in all the reckless confidence, the broad sympathies, 
 the boundless faith of youth, to fall in with wicked companions 
 whom the adversary of souls has spread as a net at the head of 
 every way? Remember that vice is, on the exterior, often allur- 
 ing. The evil companion seems, at first flush, liberal, witty, well 
 skilled in all the pretty arts of life and society; unwary youth 
 seizes upon him as a treasure, this lost one, walking in the hosts 
 
 of light. 
 
 " Behold, how fair on outside falsehood hath ! " 
 
 Young people in their first intercourse with the world have 
 very singular grounds for choice of friends. A young lad will 
 find sufficient cause for conferring his friendship if a stranger 
 has a good suit of clothes, a jolly laugh, or the glory of owning 
 a gun, a fishing-rod, a dog or a pony. Fathers should not allow 
 their business so to engross their minds that they have no time 
 or thought to spend on their sons' friendships ; they are more 
 likely than mothers to know the ways of the lads in the neigh- 
 borhood, and they should see to it that their sons do not form 
 friendships which are likely to nullify any good teaching which 
 they may get at home, 
 
 I was speaking of this to Cousin Ann one day, and she said 
 that people who live in the country, and have two or three sons 
 nearly of an age to be companions for each other, hardly know 
 how well off they are. There is a tendency in the young lads 
 in the country to flock to the villages to chat at the tavern or 
 the corner store, but this tendency can be checked by making 
 the home pleasant, bringing into it plenty of books and papers, 
 and inviting friends freely, and making it agreeable for them. 
 The friends of all members of the family ought equally to be 
 invited : that is a dangerous plan which invites the daughter's 
 friends, on the plea that young girls are quieter and more easily 
 pntertained. and refuses to invite the son's friends because thq,- 
 
294 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 are " too much trouble." Thus, the boys feel slighted, are 
 inclined to go abroad to seek more troublesome friends than 
 they would bring into the house. By having their acquaint- 
 ances rejected from the home circle, they fall into a habit of 
 keeping aloof from the society of their homes, say it is too 
 much trouble to dress to see people, get shy and awkward, and 
 soon sink to a lower plane of companionship than that to which 
 they are entitled. Cousin Ann said her children never invited 
 friends without consulting her, but that on her part she never 
 begrudged a little trouble in entertaining her children's friends 
 as freely as her own — in fact, in making them her own ; and she 
 always tried to increase the circle of their acquaintances by 
 receiving into it all new-comers whose character would make 
 them acceptable. • 
 
 Mrs. Black, Mrs. Winton and Miriam met at my house on« 
 afternoon quite by accident, and the subject of forming friend- 
 ships came up in the course of conversation. 
 
 " I'm sure," cried Mrs. Black, " sometimes I wish we'd all 
 been born hermits, or had been wrecked on a desert island, I 
 have such trouble with my girls' acquaintances. They get 
 desperately intimate with some other girl for no reason in life, 
 perhaps, but that she wears clothes which they admire, or has a 
 chatty way in society which draws young men about her, or is 
 a good hand at getting up pic-nics and entertainments. As long 
 as they are friends there never was such a dear, and as soon as 
 they quarrel, which they usually do in a little while, there never 
 was any one so detestable. And one trouble is that half the 
 friends the girls pick out do not suit Mr. Black's views, and he 
 frets over the acquaintance." 
 
 "Such intimacies as you describe," said I' s. Winton, "do 
 not seem to me worthy of the name of friendship. They are 
 mere matters of excitement and sentimentality, and girls who 
 allow their minds to be occupied with such feelings scarcely 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 295 
 
 know what true friendship is. Real friendship is based on 
 respect; on something truly worthy in its object; it is without 
 flattery, or jealousy, or selfish ends. We may have many 
 acquaintances, but not so very many friends; and friendship, 
 which is stable in its nature, sympathizing, improving, is some- 
 thing to be cultivated as a very choice element in our lives. I 
 think we do not sufficiently try to teach our young people the 
 true nature of friendship ; how worthy it is of our best efforts 
 in its preservation ; that it is not to be promiscuously bestowed 
 on every new acquaintance who pleases us for an hour. And, 
 then, we parents should help our children in forming their 
 friendships; pointing out what is trustworthy and amiable in 
 the young people who are about them. If Mr. Black does not 
 approve of these hasty friendships of his daughters, why not 
 choose such friends as you esteem, point out their good 
 qualities, invite them to your house, cultivate the friendship 
 yourself? The impressible nature of the young will soon 
 respond to these advances, and you will see your children sur- 
 rounded by safe and improving friends. Those of us who take 
 pride in cultivating flowers do not allow weeds to grow in our 
 gardens, eating up the productive power of the soil, and dete- 
 riorating our favorite plants ; but, too often, we take no pains to 
 remove from our children those who may dwarf their opinions, 
 or poison their hearts." 
 
 " It is a very difficult task," said Miriam, " to choose proper 
 friendships even for our young children. Sin is always con- 
 scious of its shamefulness, and seeks to conceal itself Hypoc- 
 risy is not a product of middle age merely : it often thrives fully 
 developed in the heart of children. I think the very worst 
 acquaintance I ever had, perhaps the worst person I e\-er knew, 
 was a girl younger than myself— indeed, only eight 5'ears old. 
 It was before I came to live with Aunt Sophronia; and this 
 child, belonging to a respected family, always smii^ig. and 
 
296 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 pretty, and well dressed, was esteemed a personification of grace 
 and a pink of propriety, while in truth she was a little bundle of 
 lies, and disobedience, and badness. Even a little child I dar^ 
 not select to be freely with my child until I know something of 
 its true character, as shown out of the restraining company of 
 grown folks." 
 
 " Now," said Mrs. Black, " if it is a matter so difficult to aid 
 the friendships of so young children as yours, what is one to do 
 when there are three or four grown-up children like mine? It 
 really seems to me that the more one opposes some new flame 
 of fancy which they have picked up, the more they are set on it. 
 They will quarrel soon enough if left to themselves, but set 
 yourself against the friendship, and it stands like a rock." 
 
 " I should say," remarked Mrs. Winton, " that this might be 
 because your children had not grown up expecting any super- 
 vision of their friendships, and they resent as an aggression what 
 you have failed to exercise as a right. I have never had any 
 such trouble with Grac?. I have taught her not to make sudden 
 intimacies, but to sift well the character of new acquaintances. 
 It has always been understood that not only her approval is 
 needed in the choice of a friend but mine. If I say to her, ' Do 
 not be very intimate with such an one ; there is only foundation 
 there for casual acquaintanceship, not for intimacy,' that is enough. 
 She has learned to esteem her affection as a thing too valuable 
 to cast away on the unworthy : if she detects the flaw she is 
 wary. Sometimes, owing to this hypocrisy of which Miriam 
 has just spoken, we have both been deceived ; but when the true 
 character is revealed, she slowly and surely but without quar- 
 relling withdraws herself. When she has been away at school, 
 if she found those to whom she was especially attracted, I have 
 been particular to invite them to my house to remain a while, for 
 I could not think of my young daughter having an especial 
 vriend who was unknown to me. I wished to apply my wider 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 297 
 
 experience to the subject, to warn of any dangers ; if there was 
 something lacking, to try and improve the friend, that she and 
 Grace might be a mutual benefit." 
 
 " I am glad," I said, " that you have touched upon that idea. 
 Ought we not to lay hold upon this strong bond of friendship 
 to bring people nearer to goodness ? Do you not think that 
 many young people who have been without home advantages, 
 who have had evil influences cast around them, are rescued and 
 taught to desire and attain better things by having the friend- 
 ship of happier people conferred on them ? " 
 
 " That is undoubtedly true," said Mrs. Winton, " and yet we 
 must be very careful of setting up our children in their impres- 
 sible youth as missionaries : they may be swept away by the 
 stream into which they went down to rescue others. I have, 
 indeed, for my own children fostered rather close acquaintance, 
 ships wjiich lacked heart freedom enough to be called friendships 
 with those who, as I thought, needed their moral and social 
 aid. But in these cases I was careful to have the intercourse 
 carried on chiefly in my own presence, that I might so preserve 
 my own children from harm, and do my share in influencing and 
 improving the others." 
 
 " I think," said Miriam, " that it is not merely positive yicious- 
 ness which we are to eschew in our children's friends : folly is 
 also dangerous. How many girls, who might have grown up 
 simple-minded and self-forgetful, have been made vain and 
 affected by friends of their own age who were forever talking 
 about appearances, about compliments, and offering extravagant 
 adulation! A child who might have grown up attentive to 
 studies, and reading such books as its parents choose for it, 
 becomes, under the influence of some silly friend who cannot 
 write a sentence correctly, and Who devours unlimited novels, 
 a despiser of solid education, with a mind enervated by stolen 
 trash. We should not allow our children intimacies with those 
 
298 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 who are brought up in a dangerous moral atmosphere. We 
 may have in our homes strict temperance principles, and we may 
 inculcate these upon our boy ; but if we allow him an intimacy 
 at a house where wine is constantly used, with a lad whose 
 father esteems temperance fanaticism, and who scoffs at pledges 
 and temperance societies, we destroy our own work in our 
 child's heart, and give him over to the enemy. So, if we try to 
 make our children careful respecters of the Sabbath, and allow 
 for their friends those who make visits, give dinners, read idle 
 tales, or go out fishing, driving or gunning on the Sabbath day, 
 we build with one hand, and with the other tear down the moral 
 strength of our child." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Black, as the three rose to go, " I wish I 
 could put some of all these good things into practice in manag- 
 ing the friendships of my young people, but I suppose, as usual, 
 I shall end with wishing." 
 
 "In that case," returned Mrs. Winton, "you v/ill not rise to 
 the measure of your maternal rights or duties." 
 
 I remember having some talk with Hester on the subject of the 
 benefit the friendship of a cultivated and well-regulated Family 
 may be to other people, who have not the advantage of such a 
 household of their own. I think we ought to take into the 
 circle of our friendships those who seem lonely in this world ; 
 God is a God of strangers, and for his sake, and for the sake of 
 common human sympathy, we should bind to ourselves friend- 
 less hearts, because they are friendless and need our kindness. 
 A good home owes it, as an expression of thankfulness for its 
 own happiness, to try and make up something of the lack that 
 is in other homes. Hester said she had often known instances 
 where the children of irreligious, disorderly, uncomfortable 
 homes, had caught their first flimpse of the beauty, the good- 
 ness, the sanctity of home, by being admitted to an acquaintance 
 with some member of such a fortunate family. Led by this 
 
FRIENDSHIP^ IN THE HOME. 299 
 
 example, they struggled toward that sweetness and light which 
 
 had been thus revealed to them, and had reached a happiness 
 
 which their parents never knew. Many a young man has been 
 
 rescued from destruction, and won on from good to better, until 
 
 he has himself stood as the head of a happy and useful family, 
 
 taught how to attain domestic peace and security by seeing the 
 
 purity and happiness of some young friends' home. 
 
 " In a Christian Home," said Hester, " there is the highest 
 
 type of all friendship, for there we not only entertain, but hold 
 
 in close bonds of communion earth's grandest Guest — that 
 
 home is 
 
 " ' Filled forever and forever with the shining light of Him 
 
 Who redeemed the world, and sitteth throned between the seraphim.' 
 
 Thus every Christian Home becomes a city of God, and upon 
 it falls the benediction of the seer of old : Peace be within thy 
 walls, and prosperity within thy palaces; for my brethren and 
 companions' sake I will now say. Peace be within thee." 
 
 Sometimes I invite to my house for supper and for the even- 
 ing all the young people of the neighborhood: the Burrs, the 
 Wintons, the young Blacks, Cousin Ann's unmarried children, 
 all the young people come to me about once a year, and enjoy 
 themselves very much. All the younger children I invite for 
 an afternoon in strawberry-time. Lately I had my young people 
 together, and after a while they began to talk about their friends. 
 Some said they had but one real close friend outside of their 
 own families ; others royally laid claim to a dozen or twenty. 
 They questioned how long friendships were likely to last. Ned 
 Burr said if they were true friendships, not passing fancies, they 
 were part of the best things of the heart, and would last forever. 
 Some said they had known of friendships lasting unbroken 
 through fifty years of constant intercourse, and I mentioned that 
 I had once been invited to spend a day where there were three 
 cultivated and excellent ladies who for over sixty years had 
 
300 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 lived near each other, and been together engaged in philan- 
 thropic work. They were similar in tastes, in sentiments, in 
 means, and the fortunes of their lives had been singularly alike; 
 each had been left a widow, with one son, who entered the 
 ministry. These ladies belonged to the same church ; no jars 
 or coldness had ever come between them ; their friendship was 
 a crown and glory to their lives, and to see them together was one 
 of the most agreeable spectacles which I had ever witnessed. ' I 
 told my young friends that absence and the cares of life some- 
 times caused a real friendship to seem to slumber, but at the 
 call of need, at a demand for sympathy or aid, it rose again and 
 was renewed in full strength, and so possibly some honest 
 friendships which have seemed to pass out of our lives are only 
 slumbering, and will be reawakened in all their vigor in the 
 world to come ; • our friendships, like our memories, may be 
 of our imperishable possessions. 
 
 Ned Burr, who is fond of argument, maintained that friend- 
 ship was a higher and nobler feeling than love, and likely to be 
 more lasting ; love was more likely to be founded in whim, or a 
 matter of emotions, while friendship must be grounded in knowl- 
 edge and respect. 
 
 " Come, come," said Grace Winton : " you are arguing un- 
 fairly, for you are comparing real friendship wc^A false love. We 
 may fancy a friendship as readily as a love, and both, to be true 
 and lasting, demand to be founded in a knowledge which creates 
 respect." 
 
 This called up the question, What was the ground of friend- 
 ship? Cousin Ann's Dick remarked that he had not experienced 
 a friendship for all the people whom he knew pretty well and 
 deeply respected. Though he venerated President Edwards, and 
 doated on the poet Longfellow, and regarded Daniel Webster 
 as one of the shining lights of the universe, yet if he had been 
 living in the same place with them, and all at the same time, he 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 301 
 
 could not have expected to count them among his most intimate 
 friends ! ! 
 
 Whereupon one held that sympathy and similarity of tastes 
 made the chief bond of friendship; while another declared that 
 we preferred our unlikes, and that the first bond of friendship 
 was to find a person possessing some traits which were lacking 
 in ourselves. Gentle natures clung around stronger tempera- 
 ments; a heart brave for any fate, and equal to any emergencies, 
 finds the less capable taking refuge in its strength ; it is vine to 
 rock, and not rock to rock. As soon as some one declared 
 that equality in age was needful to true friendship, then a dozen 
 were ready vC'ith examples of strong friendship between youth 
 and age, and we all agreed that these were very beautiful, and 
 should be zealously cultivated ; they were like the roses growing 
 on the old gray towers of Alnwick. Some one next started the 
 question of sex in friendship; have there been stronger friend- 
 ships between man and man, or woman and woman, or man and 
 woman ? Ned Burr, who always promptly proclaims his views, 
 declared that women were rather capable of love, and men of 
 friendship. 
 
 " Ned ! " cried Grace, "you just declared friendship the nobler 
 emotion of the two.". And immediately the young girls burst 
 forth with instances of woman's friendship. " It is not true," 
 said Grace, " as Tennyson hints in the ' Princess,' that woman's 
 friendship falls a speedy prey to jealousy and pique, as that 
 between Ida, Blanche and Psyche. Look at the friendship of 
 Jael for the Israelites : by it she became heroic. Who will ever 
 forget the friendship of Catherine Douglass for her queen, when, 
 to keep out the angry mob, she made of her own white arm a 
 bar for the door until that arm was broken? Shakespeare, 
 who best knew human hearts, celebrates the friendship of 
 Rosalind and Celia; and what does he say of Helena and 
 
 Hei-mia ? 
 
 20 
 
302 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " ' Both warbling of one song, both in one key, 
 As if our hands, our sides, voices and minds 
 Had been incorporate. " 
 
 "Yes," said Sara; "and where did friendship have a more 
 complete expression than in those ' Ladies of LangoUen,' the 
 Lady Eleanore Butler and Miss Ponsonby? who, forsaking 
 relatives, fortune and society for each other, with one faithful 
 servant, retired to a small cottage in Wales, where for fifty years 
 they lived in unbroken friendship, and were finally buried, 
 friends and devoted servant, in one grave. Such a friendship 
 we see between Madame de Stael and Madame Recamier: 
 these two accomplished women endured for eachrOthcr's sakes 
 danger and exile ; by each, self was forgotten for her friend ; 
 courageous in adversity, faithful unto death and beyond death, 
 they proved true that ' a friend loveth at all times.' " 
 
 " That," said Hester, " is a pretty story told us by an old 
 writer, Thomas Heywood, of a fair maiden named Bona, who 
 lived in a cloister with a dear friend. This maiden friend lying 
 near to death. Bona laid herself by her side, and earnestly 
 prayed God to take her life also ; and, in truth, the two died on 
 the same day, and were buried in one grave. And Madame 
 Swetchine is another instance of a woman capable of enter- 
 taining sincere and lasting friendship; and Lacordaire speaks 
 thus of her friend, the deaf mute Parisse, in Madame Swet- 
 chine's funeral sermon : 'As we watched the sad setting of that 
 beautiful star, I saw her beloved mute following her with her 
 eyes from the adjoining chamber, the vigilant sentinel of a life 
 which had been so lavish of itself, and whose life went out with 
 faithful friendship on the one side, and grateful poverty on the 
 other.' Madame Swetchine's life was full of friendships." 
 
 "To the rescue!" shouted Ned. "They overwhelm us with 
 instances ! Let us retort in kind. Who has not heard of the 
 friendship of David for Jonathan, and of Damon and Pythias ? 
 
F^il-ENDSHirS IN THE HOMh. 303 
 
 Consider the case of Ulysses and Agamemnon, and CEdipus and 
 Philoctetes. Who held a staimcher friendship than that of 
 Walter Raleigh for Philip Sidney, model of a knightly man ? " 
 
 " Yes," cried another of the young men ; " and what an 
 honest friendship united Horace and Maecenas ! The poetic 
 soul of Dante leaned on Guido Cavalcanti, and seven years of 
 exile were spent by that greatest of Italians in the house of the 
 Lord of Ravenna. ' Rare is it,' says Dante, 'for exiles to meet 
 with friends.' We see, also, Petrarch flying from a world where 
 almost every chord fell jarringly on his over-sensitive spirit, 
 and in the shades of Vaucluse finding consolation with his 
 friend Philip. It is said of Petrarch that 'his friends idolized 
 him, and welcomed him with tears of joy as if he were an 
 angel.'" 
 
 " I do not remembe- ," said Dick, " of a finer trio of friends 
 than Coleridge, Wordsworth and Lamb. Chopin, the com- 
 poser, was a man sickly, ardent, irritable, to whose over- 
 wrought mind even ordinary life was an intense pain. He was 
 a man to suffer until he went mad, unless some shield could be 
 interposed between him and the world. Such a shield he 
 found in his friend Liszt. For years Liszt sheltered him from 
 criticism, and business care, and curiosity; soothed him in 
 death; and finally became his interpreter to the world by 
 writing his life, showing what, among the jarring discords of 
 his existence, had been the tender harmonies of his soul. 
 Milton, neglected by his daughters and unloved by his wife, 
 bereaved of Cromwell and taunted by the Duke of York, found 
 consolation in Andrew Marvel — perhaps better fitted than any 
 man of that day to sympathize with his aspirations, his re- 
 searches, or his lofty imaginings; while a healthful quaintness 
 and quietness of spirit kept him fresh and strong. So many 
 and devoted have been the friendships of men, that fnendship 
 has been by some asserted to be especially a man's emotion." 
 
304 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " There is a third party to the contest," I said, laughing. " I 
 will tell you of some remarkable friendships between men and 
 women. Beyond the natural love of brothers and sisters was 
 the tie of friendship between Charles and Mary Lamb, and 
 between the poet Whittier and his youngest sister, of whom he 
 writes : 
 
 " ' But still I wait with ear and eye 
 
 For something gone which should be nigh; 
 A loss in all familiar things.' 
 
 " The element of a lofty friendship entered into the married 
 life of Lord and Lady Russel, the Arctic explorer Franklin and 
 his wife ; also of Roland and his wife. Shah Jehan, who set up 
 over his beloved wife the Taj, that ' dream in marble,' the won- 
 der of the world, records in it friendship as well as marital love, 
 Auguste Comte declares that the finest ideals of friendship are 
 exhibited between man and woman, but Sydney Smith says 
 that few of these instances have been shown by Saxons. The 
 golden-mouthed Chrysostom was cheered by a saintly Olym- 
 pias, and St. Jerome was helped on his way by Paula. Doubt- 
 less the gracious Apostle John, was comforted by the friendship 
 of that godly mother of a godly household, whom he greets as 
 the Elect Lady. Michael Angelo's genius took higher flights, 
 inspired by Vittoria Colonna. Dr. Donne devotes his finest 
 •verses to his friend, Mrs. Herbert, the mother of the quaint, 
 -sweet poet; by the death-bed of Locke bent his friend. Lady 
 Mashem ; and Cowper would have been a wrecked man without 
 ithe friendship of Mrs. Throckmorton, and Lady Austeft, and 
 Mary Unwin. What a contrast of character met in the friend- 
 ship of Hannah More and Garrick ! " 
 
 " I have arrived at some conclusions," said Dick, who had been 
 diligently dotting down ideas on a sheet of paper. " Listen. 
 .Friendship is one of the noblest emotions of the heart; it has 
 divine warrant and example, and is needful to our proper moral 
 
FRIENDSHIPS IN THE HOME. 305 
 
 development. It is capable of elevating us by a worthy object ; 
 of injuring us by unworthy bestowal. Like love, if entered into 
 in haste, it may be repented at leisure. Parents should, with 
 care and sympathy, encourage and direct the friendships of their 
 children. By friendship, good is brought into a home, and the 
 good in the home is given a broader circle of influence. Friend- 
 ship is formed between those like, on behalf of similarity, and 
 between those who are unlike in very virtue of the difference ; 
 it has no limits of age, of race or of sex. True friendship is 
 neither selfish, fickle nor established for self-interest and avarice : 
 only counterfeit friendship exhibits these qualities. A true 
 friendship is rooted in respect and in knowledge ; grows sensibly 
 or insensibly, and is lasting as the soul which feels it. Friend- 
 ship is the peer, the ' noble brother,' of love. Friendship has 
 been equally exhibited by both men and women, and has given 
 equally remarkable exhibitions between man and woman, man 
 and man, woman and woman." 
 
 And so ended our long talk about Friendship. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 
 WHAT AUNT SOPHRONIA THINKS IS FAMILY COURTESY. 
 
 pRACE WINTON came in to see me for a little while 
 yesterday, and when she left I fell to thinking (5f the 
 remark made by a famous essayist : "A beautiful form 
 is better than a beautiful face, and beautiful behavior is 
 better than a beautiful form : it gives a higher pleasure than 
 pictures or statues ; it is the finest of the fine arts." Grace is 
 lovely in face and form, but lovelier still in her manners. Now, 
 in what does this charm of manner consist? Is it that she 
 understands and puts in practice certain rules of good-breeding, 
 which have obtained place by the common consent of society 
 for many years ? It is something higher than that— rit is what 
 Dr. Witherspoon explains as " true courtesy, which is real kind- 
 ness kindly expressed." 
 
 I remember when Mary Watkins was a little girl, Mrs. Smal- 
 ley, her mother, came to me one day, and said : " Miss Sophro- 
 nia, I want Mary to have good manners, and to know how to 
 behave herself when she is away from home ; I wish you would 
 tell rne of some real good book on etiquette." 
 
 " If you wish Mary to have really good manners, Mrs. Smal- 
 ley," I replied, " don't let her see a paper or a book on etiquette 
 It has been well said, ' The effect of books on etiquette is to 
 make one think of himself, rather than of others ; while thinking 
 of others, rather than of self, is the essence of true courtesy.' 
 
 If you give Mary a book crowded with rules as to how to 
 (306) 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 30.7 
 
 behave herself, her mind will be so occupied with those rules, 
 and with wondering how she shall conform to them, or fearing 
 that she shall fail, that she will indubitably fail in the best cour- 
 tesies. She will be socially tithing ' mint and anise and cumin, 
 and forgetting the weightier matters of the law.' Thus, while 
 wondering if she has made a proper bow, is holding her elbows 
 properly or has entered the room gracefully, she will forget to 
 pick up the fan which some elderly lady has let fall, or to reply 
 properly in simple kindness to some remark addressed to her." 
 " Well, but how will Mary learn good manners ? " 
 " Good manners, Mrs. Smalley, are not bred in moments, but 
 in years. They are not things which can be taken up and laid 
 down at pleasure. They are not a best gown to wear abroad 
 and lock up at home.. They are cultivated not out of books, 
 but in homes and in our every-day life. They must attend us 
 as our atmosphere wherever we are. If Mary is to have good 
 manners, they- will only be obtained by putting daily in practice 
 at home the best that you know or see, by avoiding for her rude, 
 uncourteous companions, and giving her a proper amount of 
 siocial life among the truly refined, whom you wish her to be 
 like. The first and highest law of good manners is, 'Thou 
 shalt love thy neighbor as thyself; ' and the only 1 eally valuable 
 book on courtesy is the Bible. An intelligent child, taught 
 always to be kindly to others, to restrain all that may disturb 
 others, to cultivate the mind, so as to have in reserve suitable 
 themes for conversation, and to be able to take a part in dis- 
 cussing the ordinary topics of the day, with keen intelligence 
 will note the numberless little acts and politenesses which 
 make up good manners, and will cultivate them without man- 
 nerisms or affectations. The first examples and teachers of 
 good manners should be parents, and the child should consider 
 its home the first and finest place where it can put in practice 
 the courtesies of life." 
 
308 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Mrs. Smalley suffered herself to be persuaded not to get 
 Mary a book on etiquette, which, probably, would have made 
 her merely affected and self-centred: a sort of puppet, not 
 spontaneously doing the right thing at the right time, but going 
 m rotation through the practice of certain half-apprehended 
 rules, which would not fit one-tenth part of the circumstances 
 in which she was placed. If we went to live in France, we 
 would wish to know the French language, so that we could 
 understand all that was said to us and know how to reply. We 
 should not wish to trust to learning by heart a phrase-book, 
 the sentences of which might or might not suit our needs. So 
 good manners are to be the language of our homes and of our 
 lives, and not a mere phrase-book etiquette which might or 
 might not fit our exigencies. 
 
 Parents cannot be too particular in training their children 
 into good manners from their earliest years. If such training 
 is neglected in childhood, the early want will be patent all 
 through life. The parent can hardly give the child an inheri- 
 tance which is more valuable, while in itself it costs nothing. 
 In the business of life, I know nothing which has a higher pecu- 
 niary value. 
 
 " You paid . hundred dollars too much," said a gentleman to 
 an insurance agent, who had been settling with a lady for the 
 damages of a fire. " It was her valuation," said the agent. 
 " She believed it to be correct, and I could not question it : her 
 manners were so perfect. It would have been money in my 
 pocket if I had been dealing with some rude boor." 
 
 " Manners makyeth men," wrote Wykham, an ancient author, 
 and a lapse of years does not make an alteration in this testi- 
 mony. We hear Emerson rising up to declare : " Give a boy 
 address and accomplishments, and you give him the mastery of 
 places and fortunes wherever he goes." 
 
 A wealthy gentleman brought into his library a costly sub- 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 309 
 
 scription book. " My dear," said his wife, " you already had a 
 copy of that work." "I knew I did," he repHed; "but the 
 manners of the lad who sold this were so elegant that it was a 
 true pleasure to purchase it." 
 
 If we wish to mould clay, or plaster of Paris, or metal, into 
 any shape, we must not wait until it is half-hard before we put it 
 into the mould, for then it will be full of flaws and roughnesses, 
 and will not well take the desired form. So if we wish to 
 mould the heart and mind into good manners, we must not wait 
 until a child is half-grown before we begin the training. We 
 must begin with the young child. Greet its waking with a 
 smile and a loving word, that it may learn to wake up pleasantly. 
 Teach it to take gently what is offered it, not snatching, and to 
 return the look and word of thanks. Teach it to share its 
 treasures, to pity and soothe any one who is sick or sad, to pick 
 up what is ^dropped by its elders, to lend its toys, to reply 
 kindly, to say " please," " thank you," and " good-bye " — indeed, 
 there are hundreds of ways to teach a little one good manners. 
 
 I have observed that boys after they reach the mature age of 
 eight or nine generally have a severe attack of z7/ manners; they 
 suddenly feel that good manners are girlish, or babyish ; that 
 they can only be manly if they stamp, bang doors, contradict, 
 bawl instead of speaking, tease, fight for their own way — and 
 they call it foppish and dandyfied to avoid these exhibitions. 
 Just here is the time when maternal patience in training a gentle- 
 man must not fail ; when it must be thoroughly inculcated on 
 the boy, that good manners are of the manliest of manly ways ; 
 that there are a thousand gentle and engaging ways which be- 
 long to true men, and not to fops or dandies — to smile charm- 
 ingly, to bow with grace, to be quick and unobtrusive in offering 
 a service, to use respectful language, to avoid unseemly noise 
 and haste, is to be gentlemanly — not to possess these graces is 
 to be a boor. Fraiik, genial, graceful, self-forgetting manners. 
 
310 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 will make up for a lack of fortune or beauty, ana their possessor 
 will be welcome wherever he goes. 
 
 Helen has been very particular to train her children to be 
 polite, and she was greatly tried when Tom reached the crisis 
 which I have just mentioned, and thought when he laid by knee- 
 breeches and rocking-horses it was time to dispense with good 
 manners. He was fond of teasing, and he teased Hannah and 
 his little sisters and the cat and the baby. I had a talk with 
 him one day about this. I told him it was a mark of a shallow, 
 weak, unmanly spirit to find pleasure in giving annoyance. I 
 taught him what Wordsworth says : 
 
 " Never to blend our pleasure or our pride 
 With sorrow to tlie meanest thing that feels," 
 
 and then I gave him a little book, where I had him write down 
 several sentences on the subject, as: "Fair manners are the 
 mantle of fair minds; " "Civility costs nothing, and buys every- 
 thing ; " "A true gentleman is recognized by his regard for the 
 rights and feelings of others, even in matters the most trivial ; ' 
 "A rude man is generally assumed to be a bad man." 
 
 " But, Aunt Sophronia," said Tom, " don't you think that 
 people sometimes act worse than they feel?" 
 
 "Yes," I said; "a man's manners may be less gracious than 
 his heart is true and kindly, but incurably bad manners are the 
 outcome of a bad, thoughtless, cruel heart. Take notice, Tom, 
 that the well-feeling man does not try to act worse than he feels : 
 he tries to act as well as he can. No station in life, no poverty, 
 no lack of cultivation, can force a person to be ill-mannered. 
 Some of the most polite and graceful things that have ever 
 been said, and some of the most truly polite acts that were 
 ever performed, were by poor, unlettered people, whose acts were 
 the outcome of generous, sympathetic hearts." 
 
 Hester, who was sitting with us, said: "There are many 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 311 
 
 grown persons who need to be taken to task, as much as Tom, 
 for finding their pleasure in hurting other people's feelings. He 
 calls his way teasing; they call theirs satire; in conversation 
 they think themselves very smart and bright when they are 
 ridiculing somebody, turning their remarks into trifling, sneer- 
 ing at their opinions, or telling some unkindly anecdote, or 
 trying to bring into notice some unpleasant circumstance. Now 
 these people, either as writers or talkers, are not half so clever 
 as they think themselves. It needs only self-conceit and malice 
 to discover flaws. Talent and generosity are needed to recog- 
 nize talent and generosity in our companions ; all is discord 
 to an ear that has no idea of harmonies, but it needs a musical 
 ear to delight in music. These satirical people are generally 
 really ignorant, and talk sharply about others to prevent 
 any searching of their own shallowness; they are cowards, 
 too; if you notice, they never attack those whom they know 
 to be keen wits, and able to repay them in their own coin, but 
 their victims are the timid, the young, the ignorant, the very 
 ones whom courtesy would urge us to encourage, to entertain 
 and console. The old duellist, we say, with his order of ' pistols 
 and coffee for two,' was a coward, but the satirist in society 
 sinks below the level of the duellist into that of an assassin." 
 
 " You have touched upon the subject of good manners in 
 conversation," said Miriam : " we cannot be too careful to avoid 
 themes which will be painful to those with whom we converse, 
 and to avoid these requires thoughtfulness. How ill-mannerly 
 to discuss deformities before some person who is deformed ; or 
 to express dislike of foreigners before a foreigner ; or to com- 
 plain that it is too much trouble to entertain those who are 
 hard of hearing when such persons are near you ! The truly 
 kind, thoughtful heart has none of these selfish evils to com- 
 plain of, and so in conversation, as in action, kindness makes 
 courtesy." 
 
312 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 "A writer so old as Epictetus," said Hester, " gives us some 
 good rules for proper manners in conversation. He says : ' If you 
 converse, do not let it be about such vulgar things as dogs, 
 horses, racing, fighting ; avoid foolish and immoderate laughter, 
 and vulgar descriptions of entertainments, impurity, display, and 
 all egotistical remarks." 
 
 " I have here," I said, " in one of my favorite old authors, a 
 few monitions concerning our conversation. ' Clothe not thy 
 language either with obscurity or affectation ; in the one there 
 is too much darkness, in the other too much lightness; he that 
 speaks from the understanding to the understanding does best. 
 Know when to speak, lest while thou showest wisdom in not 
 speaking, thou betray thy folly in too long silence. If thou art a 
 fool, thy silence is wisdom; but if, thou art wise, thy too long 
 silence is folly. As too many words from a fool's mouth give the 
 wise no time to speak, so too long a silence in the wise gives the 
 fool time to speak, and so makes thee responsible for his folly.' " 
 
 " We must heed all these monitions with regard to circum- 
 stances," said Miriam. " We must suit our conversation to those 
 with whom we are. If they can talk of and enjoy only dis- 
 cussions of domestic animals, and the common affairs of life, 
 tht-n we are in politeness bound to indulge them 'n spite of 
 Epictetus. Why talk of the books and art for which they do 
 not care? On the other hand we must converse with little 
 children to teach them to converse : what they say may have 
 much of foolishness in it, but by conversation we educate them 
 at last to speak iraprovingly. True politeness in conversation 
 I think is to try and interest those with whom we converse, 
 and if it is our part to improve and instruct, we should not 
 perform this in a burdensome manner. It is dangerous to fall 
 into a habit of absorbing conversation and talking too much ; 
 so also we should avoid a listless manner, as if it were hardly 
 *orth our while to talk with our present company." 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 31 3 
 
 "I have seen those," I said, "who prided themselves on 
 waving good manners, and who yet were in conversation cen- 
 sorious and gossiping : errors quite as much to be condemned as 
 the sarcasm of which Hester has been complaining." 
 
 " Then," said Hester, " the rule must be to keep the mind 
 well informed, as a store-house filled with treasures, gather up 
 what we can upon all subjects, and so we shall be able to suit all 
 tastes. Then let us cultivate our hearts that they may teach us 
 instinctively to put ourselves in the place of others, to divine 
 what will please, pain or benefit, and the heart shall draw out 
 from the mind, as a wise almoner, the bounties which are needed, 
 and shall distribute them where they shall most benefit. Good 
 manners, in conversation as in other things, are a mutual product 
 of the head and of the heart." 
 
 One day Mary Watkins was visiting me, and she said that 
 the manners of Miriam's children pleased her much, and that 
 she was desirous of bringing up her children to be attractive in 
 their ways : how should she do it ? 
 
 " The first thing," I said, " will be always to exhibit good 
 manners in their presence. If we desire to have children or 
 servants mannerly, we must first of all set them an example. 
 Doctor Guthrie has some valuable observations on-this point : 
 he says in Scotland if you ask a laboring man how you shall get 
 to a place, he is as like as not to roar out, ' Follow your nose ! ' 
 Hester says she fears the Doctor is libelling his countrymen, 
 for when in Scotland she met with the greatest courtesy every- 
 where. However that may be, the Doctor says the manners of 
 the poorer classes are rude and unkindly, and it is because they 
 have been always rudely and harshly treated by their superiors 
 in station. He says that when he was in Paris a banker accom- 
 panied him to find a boarding-house. A servant girl came to 
 the door, and the banker, taking off his hat and bowing low, 
 addressed her as ' mademoiselle ' and told his business. The maid 
 
314 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 on the other hand was the very pink of courtesy ; and thus he 
 found it in France : the servants, the children, the poor, all 
 treated with elegant politeness, and being in return polite. 
 If we want anything of our children, or our servants, we should 
 not, merely because we have the authority to command, give 
 a bold order ; but why not use the gentle ' Please,' ' Will you 
 do this ? ' ' I should like you to do that,' ' Oblige me with that' 
 When service is rendered, we are not to take it in silence, curtly, 
 rudely, because we had a right to the service ; but it is easy to 
 say, 'Thanks,' or 'I am obliged,' or 'Oh, that is ven^ nicely 
 done.' These little every-day courtesies are called the small 
 change of life ; but we should be badly off in trade if we had 
 no small change, and must always deal with twenty-dollar bills; 
 while the small change mounts up to the great sum in a lifetime. 
 If parents have plenty of this small change of politeness on 
 hand, it will be put in circulation in the family: the children 
 will pay it out to each other, to servants, to playmates, and with 
 it family peace and family affection will be largely purchased,. 
 I have known Miriam's two servants to refuse a place with 
 larger wages, because they said they had rather live where there 
 were mannerly children even if pay were less. Cultivate in 
 your children the pleasant manners of a morning greeting, 
 saying ' Good-morning ' with a smile and a bow ; such a greet- 
 ing makes the whole day go more pleasantly. Do not let 
 the children go to bed without a good-night kiss ; they are 
 never too old for that. And how do we know but during the 
 night-watches some one of the family-band may take the long 
 and solemn journey to the land that lies very far off? 
 
 " Let the pleasant greetings, morning and night, to all mem 
 bers of the family, be a part of family custom ; then your chil- 
 dren, going out into the world, will carry these gracious home- 
 manners with them, and use them to teachers, employers and 
 friends. Teach your children to think for others: to notice 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 315 
 
 when one is looking for anything, and to join with alacrity in 
 the search ; to carry, unasked, a fan to one who is heated, of 
 draw up an easier chair for one who is tired; to bring the 
 father's hat or slippers ; to pick up what is dropped. I noticed 
 Ned Burr the last time that I was there ; his mother came in 
 from a chilly walk, just in time to take her place at the tea-table. 
 Ned knew that her feet must be cold ; he said nothing, but went 
 into the kitchen, took a hot brick from the back of the range, 
 wrapped it in a paper, and placed it under his mother's feet. 
 After tea, as he was about going up-stairs, he met their cham- 
 bermaid, who is rather elderly, carrying a large pitcher of water; 
 he quietly took it from her hand, and carried it to her room- 
 door. These are the kind of generous little courtesies which 
 make life go easily in families, and if they are to be practised, 
 children must grow into them as a second nature. Cousin Ann 
 was always very particular in training her boys to show good 
 manners at Home. She said if they show them there, they will 
 show them everywhere. Home is the place where true politeness 
 tells. She never passed by an infraction of good manners in. 
 little things. She said : ' If they are guilty of some great rude- 
 ness, they will notice it, blush for it, and amend themselves, but 
 it is the accumulation of small traits of ill-manners which will 
 make them truly disagreeable.' The boys were never allowed 
 to speak to or of any one by a nick-name, unless it was some 
 kindly, sportive term. They would as soon have thought of being 
 profane as of calling their father 'boss,' 'governor' or "old man,' 
 or their mother 'old woman' or the 'missis.' They never 
 pushed past one to get into a room, slammed a door or shut it 
 in any one's face, or broke into a sentence while any one was 
 speaking. They dared not come into a room with caps on, 
 muddy boots or pantaloons rolled up. If entering a room with 
 ' any one, they stepped aside to let them pass ; they never took 
 the best chair, the best seat by the light or fire, but offered it to 
 
316 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 others. At table they did not reach across to help themselves, 
 nor pick for the best or largest pieces, nor return again and 
 again greedily to the favorite dish. When spoken to out-of- 
 doors, they lifted their hats ; they bowed politely to those whom 
 they met, and never left the handles, Mr., Mrs., Sir, off persons' 
 names. They were instructed to show their gentlemanly man- 
 ners to their mother, their sister and the maids ; to treat age, 
 weakness, little children, goodness and station with due honor 
 and sympathetic regard. Their fun at home was easy and 
 happy, but not boisterous or rowdyish ; they did not shout 
 when they spoke nor contradict bluntly if any one were wrong. 
 Yet in training them in all these little things, their mother ^as 
 genial, while she was firm ; she never forgot or ignored, but a 
 witty word, a look, a gentle hint served to recall them to duty, 
 or remind them of a neglect. 
 
 I have frequently been pained when I walked abroad to notice 
 the lack of reverence prevalent among our young people. I 
 had an occasion for freeing my mind on this subject lately, 
 and I hold an occasion for speaking clearly your thought is a 
 thing to be thankful for. It happened on this wise. I met 
 James Frederick Black as I left my front-door. He asked me : 
 
 " What is the grand primary virtue for youth ? " 
 
 I replied to him : " Reverence." 
 
 I met James Frederick again as I returned to my door, and 
 he asked me : " In what virtue are young people most lacking ? " 
 
 I made answer to him : " In reverence." 
 
 Then in the evening James Frederick came to see me as 
 he frequently does, and -he said : "Aunt Sophronia, it seems to 
 me that you find the circle of virtues a rather small one." 
 
 " Yes," I replied ; " I compass it all with — reverence ; and 
 what a notable and noble virtue it is ! Look you, James Fred^ 
 erick, it is a virtue that is going out of fashion. Without it, 
 character is a glittering superstructure, without any strong 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 317 
 
 foundation. When I jee a young person who proclaims by 
 word or act that he has no reverence, I see one who will not 
 stand a severe test of character. 
 
 " This being a fundamental grace, it must be laid early in the 
 child's heart by the parents, at home. And here many parents 
 fail. They find a saucy sharpness amusing. God has sur- 
 rounded the child with the venerable, and yet he is not taught 
 to venerate. Around him are the hoary heads of age, before 
 which God has bidden him to rise; and, instead of that, he 
 tramps in, riding a cane, and roars, 'That's my chair you've got, 
 grandma!' or he hits old Betty while she is putting on his 
 stockings. God's ministers are venerable, as ambassadors from 
 the holy One. The rising youth hear their looks, and manners, 
 and peculiarities criticised, their sermons carped at, their failings 
 magnified. Experience is venerable. ' Honor thy father and 
 thy mother,' is the word, and a smile goes round some giddy 
 circle when the youth remarks that ' he could put his father up 
 to a thing or two ! ' 
 
 "The house of God is venerable, and idle triflers sit there 
 staring, smiling, whispering, irreverent to the place. The book 
 of God is venerable, and the flippant jester adorns his tale with 
 some misapplication of the inspired word ; the breath of doubt 
 blows across the divine pages, the open unbeliever mocks, the 
 secret unbeliever cavils, and the soul which should have put 
 its sandals off stands booted and spurred to wonder at the bush 
 of flame. 
 
 " Pious zeal is to be reverenced, and yet youth dares and is 
 permitted to ridicule the teacher's earnest plea, or to disregard 
 the teacher's request, or sit inattentive in the class, while the 
 heavenward way is being pointed out. 
 
 "And here behold this youth who has no reverence. Ignorant 
 of the ways of life, his parents' law should stay his steps ; but 
 that law he has not been taught to revere, and he* holds it 
 21 
 
,il8 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 lightly. The commandment of God should be a lamp unto his 
 foet, but that he did not write reverently on his heart. The 
 teachings and example of the good should be his guide-posts, 
 but tho^e he never revered, nor meant to copy. 
 
 " What a grace he lacks ! and instead thereof the flippant leer, 
 the affected contempt, when possibly earth holds nothing more 
 contemptible than himself There is no dignity in one who 
 knows no reverence ; honoring nothing, of course they do not 
 honor themselves. Growing . up all one's days in a reckless 
 irreverence, it is a strange lesson for them to learn to worship sin- 
 cerely the Lord their God ; if saved at all, they must be pulled 
 out of the fire. This irreverence sneers at faith ; it thinks it 
 foolish to be believing and of a tender conscience ; it is attracted 
 by the bold and bad. There is a deal to foster this irreverence 
 at the present day ; many parents seem to have agreed not to' 
 demand the honor which is their natural right; they do not 
 train the child to respectfulness, to yielding honor where honor 
 is due. There is a bad tone in young society, and boys and 
 girls are allowed to wander out of the safe restraints of home 
 into this loose-speaking, and thinking, and impudent (they call 
 it bright and witty) company. The land is flooded with a 
 literature of sauciness, not to mention here the literature of 
 open vice. The literature of sauciness always praises the sharp 
 youth at the expense of legitimate guardians; the old are 
 treated to light names and ridicule ; decent restrictions are called 
 •old-fashioned notions;' pertness always succeeds; the heroes 
 and heroines look for no higher guidance than their own wills. 
 Fed on such literature as this, youth becomes as weak and 
 frothy, but possibly not as harmless, as a bottle of root-beer. 
 Lay it up as a principle, James Frederick, that the less you 
 respect, the less respectable you are ; the less you honor, the 
 \ess in you is to be honored. There are those ' whom not to 
 know argues one's self unknown,' so if you have no reverence in 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 319 
 
 a world where there is so much that is noble and venerable, 
 then there will be something terribly lacking in your own char- 
 acter. One is weak, and vain and ignorant — there is more hope 
 of a fool than of him. 
 
 " Measure yourself by this rule : ' With what measure you 
 mete, it shall be measured to you again.' What! nothing grand 
 and noble to be admired, obeyed, copied ? Ah, the lack is not 
 without you, but within you! And let me, tell you, this youth 
 without reverence is to be followed by an unreverenced and dis- 
 reputable old age ; and more than that, my friend, the capacity 
 of reverencing something is in us, and if we will not honestly 
 venerate what is good, we shall next be fawning and doting on 
 the bad. The youth, who will not be reverential to Paul, will 
 debase himself presently by quoting Paine! Cultivate with all 
 your heart this grace of reverence. 
 
 "And as you know me to be frank in speaking my mind you 
 may be the better pleased, James Frederick, when I say to you 
 that while you are not as reverent as I would that you were, 
 still you do not entirely lack this virtue : you are more reverent 
 than many, and I regard it as a token of promise in you, that 
 you are interested in learning what virtue is, and desire to have 
 it clearly set before you — while you have the grace to come to 
 one who is older to be instructed, and not airily to vouchsafe 
 instructions." 
 
 Now, while I notice and deplore this lack of reverence, I am 
 far from thinking that in these days we have no young people 
 who properly respect their elders. I would not utter such a 
 Jeremiad over the age in which I live. I think the reason why 
 people suppose everything in the world to be worse now than it 
 was when they were young is, first, that they remember the 
 world as it looked to them in their young days, and not as it 
 looked to older people. To the young, all things shine in a 
 rosj' light; they are satisfied with themselves and with their 
 
320 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 companions, and looking back all seems to have been very sat 
 isfactory. A second reason for this exalting the days of the past 
 is, that year by year communication between all parts of the 
 country becomes closer; we know of the manners and doings of 
 more people ; we hear of all the evil that transpires ; and thus 
 becoming cognizant of more evil we hastily decide that there is 
 more evil in proportion to the population than there was for- 
 merly. Besides all this, I think we are more apt to brood over 
 what is bad, than to rejoice in what is good : we sigh over fifty 
 young people who are going astray, and we forget to be glad 
 over the fifty or a hundred who are doing about as they ought. 
 If I begin to think that our young folks now are all wrong, I 
 have only to go to Mrs. Winton's, or Mrs. Burr's, or Cousin 
 Ann's, or our minister's, or plenty of other places which I could 
 name, to find families who are all that the most exacting could 
 demand. 
 
 I was so pleased with Cousin Ann's Dick a fortnight ago. 
 I had stopped to see Cousin Ann for a few minutes in the 
 morning, and she was seated on the back-porch with a large pan 
 of potatoes to pare, as it happened that it was a very busy time, 
 and all the other members of the family were occupied. Cousin 
 Ann chanced to say, as she took up another Early Rose, 
 " Really, if there is one kind of work which I particularly dis- 
 like, it is peeling potatoes!" 
 
 Dick was sitting resting on the steps. " Mother, my dear," 
 he cried, " there is not the least need of your doing what you 
 dislike when I am on hand to do it for you ; behold, how beauti. 
 fully I can pare potatoes!" so jumping up he took possession 
 of pan, basket, and knife, and began peeling the potatoes as 
 quickly and evenly as his mother could have done. 
 
 I said, with all my heart : " Dick, I had rather see that ready 
 helping of your mother than to hear that any one had left you 
 five thousand dollars; I believe it will be of more advantage 
 to you in every way, for a blessing always follows good sons." 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 321 
 
 That cheerful bearing of one another's burdens, that ready 
 courtesy to each other, has always distinguished Cousin Ann's 
 family. Her household is always busy, cheerful and healthful. 
 I think much of their health is derived from their cheery activi- 
 ties. Every meal there is a sort of festival, and it is a treat to 
 sit down at their table, no matter how plain the meal is. The 
 neatness, taste and order with which everything is served makes 
 it a luxury. I said as much to Cousin Ann several times. She 
 replied to me one day: " I have always thought, Sophronia, that 
 a deal of healtn and of family affection depended on our way of 
 taking our meals ; in a family like ours, where we are all busy 
 about one thing and another continually, we do not all meet 
 except at meals, and in the evening. Those are then the times 
 when we must cultivate our acquaintance with each other. I 
 try to have the table, as our meeting-place, very attractive to the 
 eye ; to have it orderly, so that our chat shall not be interrupted 
 by looking for needful things that are forgotten, or by jumping 
 up and running about. I like the food good, and well served, 
 and people tidy to eat it. None of our men folks come to the 
 table unwashed or unbrushed, sleeves and trowsers rolled up, 
 and boots just from the barn. In the entry-room, near the sink, 
 where the brushes and towels are, each one has his own nail 
 with a coat to wear at meals and a pair of slippers. There is a 
 whisk-broom for brushing off their clothes, and while it hardly 
 takes more than five minutes to make the change, it sends them 
 to the table looking neat, and feeling rested and refreshed. I 
 think it is needful to health and comfort to avoid coming to the 
 table over-tired ; one cannot then look or speak cheerfully, nor 
 digest well. Now, after the work and worries of the field, the 
 slippers rest the feet; the washing of the hands and face cools 
 and refreshes; the change of the coat, and the brushing, seem to 
 give a change to one's feelings, and we all get to table ready to 
 forget for a little the work that is going on, and to talk about 
 
d22 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 anything pleasant which offers. I try and have some subject foi 
 good conversation, just as much as I try to have good food. If 
 there is a nice story, a good, kind-tempered joke, some nice 
 anecdote, I have encouraged the family in keeping it for meal- 
 i^imes; a good laugh, and a flow of cheerful talk, helps a meal on 
 wonderfully. I will not have troublesome topics brought up at 
 meals, nor any disputing ; as far as possible, we avoid talking of 
 the work ; we take time for our meals ; it don't pay to hurry 
 one's eating; if you save in every month the time of one work- 
 ing day, by cutting down the proper time of meals by one-half, 
 you will in a year be -sure to lose more than those twelve un- 
 justly-gained working days, by dyspepsia, headaches, fevers, 
 cholera morbus, or bilious attacks. Give proper time to a 
 proper and cheerful meal, and the day's work will move on with 
 as much again of vigor and good judgment. We like to have 
 friends at meals with us ; we don't consider it a trouble to put 
 an extra plate and chair, and we ask our guest to partake 
 of just what we have; a welcome, friendly guest makes our 
 meal twice as valuable to us ; we are the gainers and not the 
 givers." 
 
 " You have always been very hospitable, Cousin Ann," I said, 
 " and I think, on the whole, you have by hospitality gained as 
 much as you have conferred. Your family are accustomed to 
 good society; their manners are easy and refined, fitting them 
 for any circumstances in which they may be placed. They 
 have never needed to run away from home for society; they are 
 acquainted with all the popular topics of the day; they have 
 formed their opinions, and their opinions are valued by their 
 neighbors. They are looked up to as an important part of the 
 community." 
 
 " When there was company," said Cousin Ann, " I did not let 
 some one of the children run and hide ; I never sent them off, 
 on the plea that they were not dressed for company, or because 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 328 
 
 they were shy and felt awkward. If they had clean hands, faces, 
 and well-brushed hair and shoes, they were presentable, and I 
 knew that the shyness would grow with indulgence. Reed was 
 the most diffident of my children ; he would always have gladly 
 run to the barn when he sav/ visitors coming, and preferred to 
 lose a meal rather than come into the presence of guests. I 
 felt sorry for the child, but knew it would never do to encourage 
 the feeling ; it would be harder to overcome the older he grew. 
 However, I made it as easy as I could for him, and when the 
 dreaded bo\Y and shaking hands were over, he sat by me, and I 
 helped on his share in the conversation, so after a time he be- 
 came as social as any of us. Dick, on the other hand, rejoiced 
 in guests ; his tongue was always ready — too ready ; he wanted 
 to interrupt older people; to present his views before his elders; 
 to cut his joke no matter who was cut by it, and he had such a 
 comical way that he was laughed at and petted by strangers, 
 and that made him more forward. It was as difficult to repress 
 Dick to proper limits as it was to bring Reed up to them, ana 
 both required the care and culture of years. But these things 
 are all in a lifetime, and such cares belong to our parental posi- 
 tion, and repay us in the end. As we sow we reap ; he who 
 sows sparingly reaps sparingly, and he who sows bountifully 
 reaps bountifully. Many sisters and mothers who have not 
 thought it worth while to cultivate and develop the awkward, 
 timid boy, find themselves after a while with no one to go out 
 with them when they desire an escort, and no one to help them 
 entertain their guests at home." 
 
 While I do not think that the young people are less genial 
 and kindly in their ways and feelings than they have been in 
 past generations, I do think that there is a going out of the 
 dignified grace and scrupulous attention to little things, which 
 made old-time manners so beautiful. There is too much of off- 
 hand taking for granted that things are right and agreeable. 
 
324 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 When among the crowd of modern youths you see some young 
 man carefully formed by his mother, on some stately, gracious, 
 old-fashioned model, he is at once a marked man for his man- 
 ners and always a favorite. Mrs. Winton's two sons are marked 
 wherever they go as " distinguished in appearance " simply in 
 virtue of this scrupulous training. They do not make a bow by 
 pointing a finger in the direction of the hat-brim and raising 
 their eye-brows, but the hat is lifted and a bow full of grace is 
 really made, and this by no means in a stiff, self-conscious way. 
 They do not take a stranger to a house without asking per- 
 mission from the lady of the house. They do not dash along 
 the street and pass by some lady of their acquaintance who is 
 about to open a gate : they open the gate, hold it open while 
 she enters, and then close it. They do not meet one in the 
 street, and amiably confer their company for a walk unasked. 
 When they see any one leaving a room, they rise and hold 
 open the door for them. Leaving church, they do not rush to 
 joke with the young girls, and leave some old lady, or decrepit 
 gentleman, to hobble down the steps alone, but their best 
 courtesies are first for the feeble and the old. So many young 
 men have politeness only for dashy young girls, none for the 
 elderly, the plain, or the poor. Those Wintons would never 
 have thought of leaving their mother or sister to go to and 
 from some evening meeting unescorted, while they ran to offer 
 their company to some young lady. They attended always first 
 upon their mother and Grace. Indeed, their care of Grace was 
 charming. They did not allow some lad to accompany her in 
 order that they might bestow their attention elsewhere; but as 
 long as they thought her too young to enter general society, 
 she never went or came under other care than theirs, and now 
 they exercise a scrupulous supervision over all the young 
 gentlemen of her acquaintance : a young man must be marvel- 
 lously well-behaved to be admitted into Grace Winton's society. 
 Lately as I was walking along the street I saw North Winton, 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 325 
 
 on horseback, looking up at a window and lightly kissing his 
 hand with a very devoted expression. " Why," I thought, 
 looking toward the window, " with whom is our North so 
 enraptured ? " I saw at the window his mother, and it brought 
 to my mind the pretty little poem of " De Leon's Fledge." 
 
 Last winter we had a series of lectures delivered in our vil- 
 lage. They were all very interesting ^nd instructive, but I 
 think I liked best one on social culture. It was very plain 
 and practical. Some of the thoughts were these : 
 
 It is in general fondly believed that if hearts and heads are 
 right, manners will be right also. And yet sometimes, owing to 
 forgetfulness, unfortunate examples, or other minor causes, per- 
 sons' manners are less pleasing than their hearts are true and 
 kindly. Permit, then, a few words on social culture, in two or 
 three rules which will serve equally well both at home and 
 abroad. First, Be sincere. It is not needful to good manners 
 that we use as current* conversation those common fictions 
 which many deem essential to maintaining a place in good 
 society. We should not say the thing we do not think, always 
 remembering that we are not called upon to say all that we 
 think. Why seem to be very fond of Miss Jenkins, whom we 
 like the least of all our acquaintances? Why tell Mrs. Jones 
 that we shall be charmed to visit her, when we really do not 
 mean to go ? Why urge Miss Smith to come, when we wish her 
 to keep away? That kindly smile which is due to the human 
 tie, that placid grace which is due to yourself, will make you 
 polite to these without resigning sincerity. And here be sure 
 you do not indulge a hard nature by saying hard things and 
 calling it honesty! We are bound by the Golden Rule to 
 be both sincere and gracious. This is the first rule in good 
 manners, 
 
 " To seek that august face of Truth 
 Whereto are given 
 The age of heaven, 
 The beauty of immortal youth." 
 
326 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 The second thing is — Be sympathetic. At home and abroad, 
 no quality will make one so beautiful and so beloved as 
 sympathy. If we cultivate sympathy, we shall be reverential to 
 age and tender to childhood. Sympathy is more often the 
 product of a strong than a weak nature : people who are half 
 educated and imperfectly cultured make the ignorant, the timid, 
 and the sensitive feel wretched in their presence, and enjoy 
 making them feel so ; while the accomplished scholar, the well- 
 balanced heart, throws over such the aegis of his strong pro- 
 tection, and first of all succeeds in making them feel comfortable. 
 
 Now this sympathy is akin to another fine social quality, 
 which I cannot too highly commend, and that is, self-fo7-get- 
 fulness. We cannot be truly sympathetic to others while we are 
 absorbed in ourselves. VVe cannot even be self-absorbed and 
 be sincere, for self-centring makes us dishonest to ourselves. 
 Be self-forgetful. " Seek," says the Apostle, in that best book 
 on etiquette that has ever been written — the Bible, "not every 
 man his own, but every man another's good." There is nothing 
 so graceful as this self-forgetfulness. Egotism is always awk- 
 ward ; it blunders, or is stiff, or nervous, or affected. Only in 
 self-forgetting can one be interested either in other people, or in 
 their subjects of conversation ; and if we are not good listeners, 
 we fail in one very important way of making ourselves agreeable. 
 This self-forgetting is a good quality which improves with age. 
 Whittier paints such a spirit : 
 
 " Who lonely, homeless, none the less 
 Found peace in love's unselfishness, 
 And welcome wheresoe'er she went. 
 A calm and gracious element, 
 Whose presence seemed the sweec income 
 And womanly atmosphere of home." 
 
 Biing self-forgetful, let us also be thoughtful. Of all things, 
 1 jt us not be of those who rattle on without thinking or knowing 
 what they are saying. This thoughtlessness is most dangerous 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 327 
 
 in society ; it spreads false reports, tells a club-footed man that 
 mental and physical deformities accompany each other, and a 
 Frenchman that it hates all things French, and then placidly 
 remarks that "it didn't think." Not think! One thing is 
 certain, social culture demands thought. And this opens another 
 point : that of cultivating thought, if we wish to be agreeable 
 and useful at home or abroad. We must be able to talk as well 
 as listen. "It is a fine day. Miss Medora," says Simpkins. 
 "Ah!" smiles Medora, "I think so." Dear Medora, you have 
 been thinking the weather is fine these ten years. It is time that, 
 from thinking you came to know something. It is time by study 
 and wide reading to make ourselves powers in society. Cultivate 
 conversational talent. Language has been called the vehicle of 
 thought ; but there are all kinds of vehicles, from a Lord Mayor'.'? 
 coach to a wheelbarrow. But don't think brilliant conversation 
 means a rush of sarcasm. Sarcasm is generally the weapon of 
 the keen against the weak. Notice those who use it : they sink 
 below the level of duellists into that of assassins ! Don't indulge 
 in ungenial words or acts, and trust to your friends to shield 
 you with — " It is his way." You are bound to have a good way, 
 . that does not need excusing. What ! am I talking of very little 
 things ? Social culture is a sum of little things. I trust I did 
 not mislead you in saying that the manners might be worse than 
 the heart. Incurably bad manners, manners insincere, unsym- 
 pathetic, thoughtless or bitter, are the outcome of a bad heart. 
 Therefore we may put all exhortations on social culture into 
 one precept, and say: Be Christian, and in proportion as the 
 gracious mind of the Master abides in you, his disciple, then, 
 true and gentle, thoughtful of others, forgetful of self, improving 
 every talent to its utmost, you will always exhibit the very best 
 of good manners. 
 
 These were the leading ideas of the lecture, and I was glad 
 our young people heard them, and I hope that, young and old, 
 we shall be apt to put them in practice. 
 
328 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Belinda Black came to spend a day with me, and we had a 
 good deal of discussion as to what was ladylike and becoming 
 to a young girl. I impressed it on Belinda, that whatever was 
 good and becoming should first be used at home; that fine man- 
 ners were not to be kept for strangers, to go on with our good 
 bonnet, and be put off with our best gloves; but the grace that 
 suited a stranger's table suited our own ; the courtesy which 
 pleased friends abroad would please parents and brothers and 
 sisters at home. "A woman," I said, " who goes about her house 
 slipshod and untidy, in a soiled, ragged gown, and only once or 
 twice a year gets fully fitted up in her best clothes, will be sure 
 to feel awkward and act awkwardly in those unwonted garments : 
 so good manners which are not of eveiy-day use will fit us but 
 illy, and we shall be ungainly in their exercise; people will see 
 that we have only put them on for show, and it will serve us 
 right to be thus betrayed. As good manners are welcome in all 
 places, so they are suitable to all times. Some people need to 
 be up three or four hours before they can find their cheerful 
 civility; they are well-mannered from noon until night, and ill- 
 mannered from rising until noon. Never come down-stairs 
 cross." 
 
 "A great many people do," said Belinda. "I often do; all 
 things look dull, I feel dull, nothing seems likely to turn out 
 well, and I can hardly speak, I feel so fretted." 
 
 "Then," I said, "you must have been sleeping in too close a 
 room, or have sat up too late, or eaten too heavy a .= upper; you 
 should search out the causes of these things and destroy them, 
 and then these unpleasant effects will cease : your gloomy face 
 and reluctant words will make all the family dull, and the day 
 will move heavily. When you feel in this captious or heavy 
 mood when you rise, try and disperse it: throw up your window, 
 step about briskly in the fresh air, toss your bed-clothes to air, 
 wash your head, arms and chest thoroughly in cold water, and 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE HOME. 329 
 
 rub with a coarse towel; draw and expel deep breaths, so as to 
 fill your lungs with pure air, and send 'oxygen through your 
 blood. Then you will feel bright and hopeful, and be able to 
 speak and act politely when you get into the breakfast-room." 
 
 "Well," said Belinda, "I shall remember that. Now tell me 
 of some of the little things which you think especially rude — the 
 little things which we are most liable to do." 
 
 "One is a habit of singing and humming in the presence of 
 others. I knew a young woman, very nice and well educated, 
 too, who, whenever she was not absolutely talking, would go to 
 humming tunes. If she walked with you, and a silence fell in 
 the conversation, she would hum, hum, hum, in the most annoy- 
 ing way. It is pleasant to hear one singing over their work ; 
 but where two or three are together this humming like a huge 
 bumble-bee may prove very trj'ing to somebody. There, too, is 
 that other habit of shrill whistling, indulged in by boys, and 
 sometimes by girls. I like to hear a boy whistle and sing in the 
 fields or along the road; but it is very ill-mannered for him to 
 come whistling into the family room, or to sit whistling shrilly 
 vt. the group gathered on a piazza. We are ill-mannered 
 \khen we ignore the fact that in this world we are not monarchs 
 of all we survey, dwelling in a lodge in some vast wilderness; 
 but we are each one of many, and we must act so as not to 
 irench upon the rights and comforts of others. We can law- 
 fully exercise our own privileges only in a way not to interfere 
 with our neighbor. It is rude for children to play, race and 
 s bawl on the street corners in a manner to disturb the people in 
 all the adjacent houses, and no well-conducted parents, who desire 
 to have their children become prosperous and honored citizens, 
 will for an hour permit this. It is very ill-mannerly for a group 
 of young girls to go ogling, laughing, shouting, loudly talking, 
 and calling each other's names along the streets. A true girl, 
 Belinda, one who has a right to the name of lady, does not 
 
330 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 desire to call public attention to herself. She must be sought 
 for. She does not parade herself to general view. She is care- 
 ful not to act or dress in a manner to make herself remarkable 
 either for oddity, display, showy colors, or extravagance. Her 
 dress and her manners are simple and refined. Her good taste 
 regulates her tones, her words and her actions as well as her 
 bonnets. She quietly does what she thinks she ought, and has 
 a large reserve power of intelligence, wit, accomplishment, kind 
 feeling. She does not show forth at one glance all her posses- 
 sions, as some people who set all their silver forth on their tables 
 at once, but .she has an untold inheritance and acquisition of val- 
 uable things, which will only be discovered by a long acquaint- 
 ance, when day by day she will surprise you by having a depth 
 of strength, and culture, and lovingness beyond your previous 
 discerning. Such a girl is like an inexhaustible gold mine, 
 while many girls are like the bogus mines, started by some 
 crafty speculator, who has scattered a little gold and quartz 
 along the surface. 
 
 "Another point where young people often exhibit great ill- 
 manners is in a restiveness to reproof An older friend rebuke? 
 them for some awkwardness or rudeness, and instead of accept- 
 ing the reproof in kindly spirit as meant for their improvement, 
 or as a thing which can be used for their good, even when 
 given irritably, they are vexed, and proceed to justify them- 
 selves, or are forever angry with the reprover. They forget that 
 open rebuke is better than secret love; that the wounds of a 
 friend are better than the kisses of an enemy. This restiveness 
 to reproof I think often hinders elder friends from making to 
 the young such suggestions as would be of service. I knew a 
 young girl once, who from carelessness, bad example, and a lack 
 of watchfulness in her teachers, had fallen into several bad 
 habits which were ruining her manners. A wise, elderly lady 
 look her apart, and said to her : ' My dear, you have some rude 
 
GOOD MANNERS IN THE'^ HOME. 331 
 
 ways which will much injure you. When spoken to you often 
 cry, " Hey ! " or " What ! " You often nod or shake your head 
 by way of answer ; you fail to look at the person who speaks to 
 you, or to whom you are speaking, and you are too bold in your 
 manner of expressing a dissenting opinion.' 
 
 " Now, the young girl might have been vexed at this reproof, 
 though kindly given and wisely intended by one competent to 
 instruct. However, she took it in the kindest spirit. She fell 
 that if one person saw these flaws, more must see them, and 
 that it was well to know of them in time to check them. She 
 thanked the lady, told her that she hoped she would always 
 suggest to her when she was going wrong, for that hitherto no 
 one had noticed these errors of manner in a way to correct 
 them. She desired to be a true lady in her ways, and gladly 
 laid hold on any means of improvement. As you may fancy, sp 
 eager and docile a pupil made rapid progress, and she became 
 soon graceful and thoughtful in her manners." 
 
 I have no doubt that Belinda, who is ready to learn, wa-^ 
 benefited by this talk on good manners. It is a theme which I 
 often pursue with my young friends. Good manners are to a 
 lad what beauty is to a girl, at once attracting an interested 
 and kindly feeling ; while to a girl good manners are infinitely 
 more valuable than fine dress or showy accomplishments. 
 Chesterfield says that the art of pleasing is the art of rising, 
 and this is largely true : for some must rise in life in every 
 generation, and naturally those will rise who are ready to aid 
 and please others and so become respected and popular. We 
 will not give our business, our votes, our aid to one who treated 
 us surlily; we will strive to push him down to make room for 
 the man of courtesy. And this flower of courtesy, choice 
 as Arabian Spikenard, should be planted, cultivated and gathered 
 iii the Home. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME, 
 THE W.\Y AUNT SOPHRONIA THINKS WORK SHOULD BE DONE. 
 
 p COUSIN of Doctor Nugent, a surgeon who is in charge 
 
 [ 'j of a State Insane Asylum, lately spent several days in our 
 village, and Hester invited me to meet him at tea. 
 During the evening the conversation turned on the 
 causes of insanity. 
 
 "What," inquired John Rocheford, "is the chief root of the 
 madness of your patients ? " 
 
 " It would be hard to say," replied the Doctor, " for causes 
 are so many, and often so nearly equally distributed. We have 
 many whose mania is hereditary ; as many more, perhaps, who 
 are victims of alcoholic, opium or nicotine poisoning. Severe 
 illness has dethroned reason in some, and sudden shocks, losses 
 in business or family, or deep sorrows, have sent us other unfor- 
 tunates. I notice that when any one passes, from excitement on 
 religious subjects, into insanity, the unbelieving make a loud 
 "outcry over it, insinuating, more or less boldly, that religion is_ 
 in itself dangerous and unsettling to the mind ; ignoring the 
 fact that victims of 'religious insanity' are those whose natural 
 tendency is toward madness, which excitement of any kind is 
 likely to develop ; and that the disturbance of their mind has 
 been not a true religious idea, but abnormal or moody fancies; 
 while there is nothing more soothing to the mind than real 
 piety, and doubtless it yearly preserves their reason to thousands 
 
 of minds, which would be thrown off their balance by the 
 (332) 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 333 
 
 painful circumstances of their lives, were it not for this fountain 
 of hope and refreshment, this rock of strength." 
 
 " How is it about students ? Have you many literary people 
 among your patients ? " asked Doctor Nugent. 
 
 " Less of severe students, perhaps, than of any other class. 
 The mind occupied with questions of science, or philosophy, or 
 history, has no time to become introverted, and brood to dis- 
 traction over its own developments. I have many patients who 
 are victims of what I am inclined to call paralysis of the reason : 
 indolent young women most of these, whose minds being unfed 
 gnaw on themselves and shrivel away." 
 
 " How is it about work ? " asked Hester. " Docs hard work 
 send you many victims ? " 
 
 " Work, like religion," said the Doctor, " has been called to 
 endure many false accusations. I have had more patients sent 
 to me by idleness than by hard labor — :of these, girls especially. 
 Boys brought up in the terribly dangerous position of idlers, 
 social drones, by the very muscular activity of their make find 
 something to do : they become amateur boxers, boatmen, ball- 
 players. Society does not profit by these things particularly, 
 nor will eternity reap much harvest by them ; but at least they 
 will serve to keep these young fellows out of the mad-house, 
 where many of their sisters may go. The young girl witb 
 nothing to do begins to dwell upon herself in nervous intro- 
 spection ; she becomes hysterical : hysteria makes her an object 
 of notice and sympathy in the family ; she indulges more and 
 more her predisposition to it ; it masters her, by degrees passes- 
 into mania, and she is fit only for an asylum. I have had more 
 than one or two cases of this kind, where the pains, and what we 
 may call the social disgrace of madness, would have been 
 escaped, if the girl had been brought up to sweep and dust, to 
 make her clothes, to bake the family bread and pastry, to be her 
 
 mother's housekeeper, or her father's book-keeper. 
 
 22 
 
534 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 "As to work, Mrs. Nugent, it is the normal estate of man 
 since Eden : we may say it is man's natural condition, as Adam 
 was provided with occupation even in the blessed garden. Now 
 what is natural can be borne : God did not establish us in a lot 
 in life of which lot the natural tendency is madness. Work, 
 lawful work, does not dethrone reason : it strengthens both brain 
 and body. Over-work and under-rest do send many patients to 
 us ; but man must blame no one but himself when he destroys 
 the proportion which God ordained between our time and our 
 labor, our working and our resting. Suppose I hire a man to do 
 a week's work, and I give him food for the week ; inspired by 
 avarice he sells the food, and works fasting , before the week is 
 out he drops exhausted and soon dies, when it was open to him 
 to use both work and food, and reach the end of the week a 
 sounder man than when he begun it. If I hire a man to move 
 some iron, and to save time, as he calls it, he piles it all in a big 
 barrel and, lifting it at once, incurably injures himself, who is to 
 blame for all the crippled years, when he might have been 
 hale and tougher from his work ? 
 
 "A man goes to work in a field in midsummer : at noon he is 
 
 warned to take one or two hours of rest, to cool himself, to eat, 
 
 and then resting again, go moderately at his work for an hour, 
 
 increasing his toil with the cooling day; instead, he presses on 
 
 m madder and madder haste, taking no noon rest, but panting on 
 
 I in the hottest sun, with some vague idea of getting done earlier in 
 
 I the day, as people do who work themselves to premature death, 
 
 striving in haste to accumulate a fortune for their age, an age 
 
 .which they never reach. So the man whom I am imagining, 
 
 over-hurries his task, and dies of sunstroke before the evening 
 
 ifalls The trouble is not that people must work — not even that 
 
 m the sweat of their brow they must win their bread — but that 
 
 ;they set themselves tasks which neither God nor man required 
 
 .of them ; they sequestrate for their absurd ends the hours God 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 335 
 
 gave for rest; they deprive themselves of food, or, what is much 
 the same, of time to digest their food — they die, or go mad. The 
 trouble is not work, but over-work." 
 
 "But," said Hester, "are there not some mothers of large 
 families, say, or wives of farmers with lartje dairies and too little 
 help, who are forced to over-work?" 
 
 "There may be some such," said the Doctor, "but now we 
 are coming down to a still finer point, and I tell you that over- 
 work generally means, ignorance of right methods of work. You 
 may quietly ascend the stairs of a tower a hundred feet high ; 
 you reach there but little fatigued ; you seat yourself; look at 
 the scenery — rest — return ; you are none the worse for the climb ; 
 but start at the bottom and run with all your might up those 
 stairs; stand purple and panting in the wind on top ; turn and 
 run down — if you can — and very likely you will soon drop dead, 
 or die of a congestion, or lie all the rest of your life the in- 
 valid victim of your folly. You go over the same space in 
 either case ; you lift yourself but the hundred feet either way 
 you do it, but the result depends on how you doit. I doubt if 
 there is one case in five hundred of so-called victims of over- 
 work where the evil has not arisen rather from the way of doing 
 the work than from the amount of it. People do not know how 
 to divide between the needful and the needless ; they forget how 
 minutes of rest lessen the total of the day's fatigue ; how little 
 needless motions, liftings, frettings, increase it. I have had vic- 
 tims of over-work brought to me ; mothers whose large families 
 needed their presence ; whose daughters' lives would be blighted 
 by the story of the crazy mother; these women would have been 
 saved by having each day one hour's rest in rocking-chair or on 
 a lounge, and fifteen minutes each day with an entertaining or 
 soothing book, and fifteen minutes for a short walk. Why did 
 they not have this hour and a half? They could not: they spent 
 it at the sewing-machine, putting six-pin tucks in the frills of 
 
336 THE COMPLETK HOME. 
 
 pillow-shams; sixteen narrow tucks intrieir daughters' petticoats, 
 edged ruffles on the little girl's aprons ; frills on the baby's 
 frock ; puffs, tucks and inserting in best night-gowns. And here 
 is the result : the baby has no mother to put on its frilled frocks; 
 the little girl in her ruffled apron gets cuffed by a stranger; the 
 eldest daughter, whose tucked petticoats wore out the mother's 
 powers, and robbed her of rest, is a girl marked ' as perhaps 
 inheriting insanity;' the fancy pillow-shams and night-gowns 
 are stolen by the kitchen maid and torn by the laundress ; the 
 whole catastrophe was caused by a lack of common-sense ; a 
 forgetting the evident fact that the human machine, like other 
 machines, cannot stand perpetual motion ; that it must be rested, 
 repaired, and oiled; that mothers are worth more than tucks 
 and ruffles; that a long, hearty, good-bestowing hfe is better 
 than a little out-doing of the neighbors in the matter of dress 
 and furnishings. I heard, by accident, good, sound sense on 
 this point, in this wise : a gentleman, fearing for his wife's state 
 of mind, sent for me, and, unknown to the wife, we were in the 
 study, adjoining her sitting-room, when a lady friend came to 
 see her. Thinking the conversation would afford me good 
 opportunity of judging of his wife's mental condition, I signed 
 to her husband to keep silence, and, sure enough, in a short 
 time the poor mother confided to her friend the fear that she 
 was going crazy. The guest was known to fame as a poet, and 
 I did not expect the burst ol hard common-sense which followed. 
 The door was ajar, and I saw her with keen eye measure her 
 hostess' malady, and the style of tonic needed. 
 
 " ' Go crazy ! ' she cried ; • don't you dare to do it ; you would 
 luin these five little girls; what prospects have the daughters 
 of an insane mother? There is not the least danger of any 
 insanity for you, if you will every day ride out for an hour, lie 
 down for an hour, and read for an hour; air, rest, and ne-w 
 interests are ■^V'aX.you need.' 
 
METHODS OP WORK IN THE HOME. 337 
 
 "'But I have no time; you don't begin to know the time our 
 Bewing takes ; why I spend two or three hours each day at the 
 machine.' 
 
 " ' I'll engage to get you a young woman to do the sewing that 
 J^ou do for two dollars a week.' 
 
 " ' Yes, but tliat costs money, and I feel that I ought to lay up 
 all I can for our children.' 
 
 '"Look at the matter practically: call in your arithmetic. If 
 you die of over-work, a housekeeper will cost five dollars a 
 week ; if you go to an asylum, consider the expense : the seam- 
 stress would be cheaper. If you kill yourself by under-resting, 
 you drive your husband to a second marriage, and three or fouf 
 litrie half-brothers would materially reduce your daughters' por- 
 tions. The rest and the seamstress by whom you get it ars 
 cheap in comparison with any other alternative. Mothers are 
 not to be bought in a market at five dollars a head.' 
 
 " These sharp remarks were a revelation. The lady agreed to 
 the seamstress, and to her friend's prescription of the three 
 hours ; and beginning the use of her remedy at once, the two 
 went off to walk. I said to the husband : ' This case is in good 
 hands ; these three hours daily, spent as arranged now, will save 
 your wife ; ' and they did." 
 
 " Yet there are many cases," said Hester, " where three hours 
 could not possibly be saved by the mother of a family, and 
 where it would be also impossible to hire a seamstress." 
 
 " That is true," said the Doctor ; " but three hours each day 
 may not always be needed. It was the last ounce, you know, 
 which broke the camel's back, not the last hundred-weight. 
 What I contend for is, that people generally do not know the 
 priceless value of their physical and mental health, until they 
 have squandered it ; nor do they realize that a little saving in 
 care and labor, a little rest, a little change, would prevent their 
 being mentally or physically ruined. An easy-chair, an occa 
 
338 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 sional quiet hour, a day's visit, a pleasant book, the being re- 
 lieved from some petty, oft-recurring task, may save a brain or 
 a heart just on the point of exhaustion. I think all over- 
 worked women, if they examined their tasks, feeling that there 
 must be a saving made, and that saving must be in their own 
 favor for their own recruiting, would be surprised at the result 
 of their scrutiny. Why, I have seen thin, haggard, worn-out 
 women, who were perishing for rest and recreation, instead of 
 taking that needed rest which would spare them to their fami- 
 lies, actually sitting for two or three hours each day darning 
 into fine, fancy patterns the quilting of a bed-spread! This 
 fanciful quilting would not make the quilt warmer nor make it 
 wear better, but it would make it fine. A million times better 
 spend that time in the garden raising flower-seeds, or in the 
 yard raising chicks to sell, and buy counterpanes, if they could 
 not be had without such management. I have seen women sit- 
 ting up late at night knitting lace for their parlor curtains, or 
 ornamenting children's clothes, when the hours thus stolen from 
 rest would soon send them under the church-yard sod, where 
 neither lace nor ornaments would benefit them. I have seen so 
 many of these foolish sacrifices that I feel hotly on the subject. 
 This ignorance is a Moloch destroying hundreds of our house- 
 wives.'' 
 
 " Some one," said John Rocheford, " ought to write a book 
 on the subject, and tell women how to do what they must do, 
 so that it shall be most easily done; and how to discern 
 between the needful and the needless, that they may spare 
 themselves for better things, and live out their rightful days." 
 
 " The book," said Hester, " would be well enough, if people 
 would read it or heed it, but it is very hard to bring folks to 
 give up rooted and perhaps inherited notions. We do not 
 take much warning of our own mortality in seeing others die, 
 nor of our own weakness in seeing others break down : we think 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 339 
 
 wc feel the springs of life stronger in us. We strain and bend 
 the bow until it snaps, and then leave others to repeat for them- 
 selves- our folly." 
 
 "I have often wondered," said John Rocheford, "at the dif- 
 ferent ways in which women do their work ; at, indeed, the very 
 different ways in which work can be done, making or saving 
 toil and fatigue. I remember once I was out with a party of 
 gentlemen on a survey, and we happened on a rainy summer 
 week ; the first evening we took refuge in a farm-house. As we 
 were wet, and . there was no stove up but in the large, neat 
 kitchen, we were seated near that to dry ourselves, while the 
 housewife got supper. Wishing to give us something hot, she 
 made flannel or griddle-cakes. By the time the cakes were 
 mixed she had a bowl, a couple of saucers, a fork, spoon and 
 pan in use, and her baking-table pretty well covered with sifted 
 flour; her griddle then being greased, she brought her pan of 
 cake-batter, and with a large spoon dipped some upon the 
 griddle ; despite her care, some drops fell on stove and hearth ; 
 every time she greased the griddle she went to and from her 
 table with the greaser, and then to and from the table with her 
 pan of batter ; in the meantime she darted hurriedly around lay- 
 ing the tea-table, a cup, a plate, a knife at a time, between whiles 
 of putting on and turning and removing her cakes. She was 
 nearly an hour in preparing her supper, and an hour in clearing 
 it away, for some flecks of batter had fallen on floor, stove and 
 table ; she had soiled a good many dishes ; her table was to 
 scrub ; her stove to rub up, and before all was in its accustomed 
 order the good woman was hot and exhausted. 
 
 " The next evening our fate was almost exactly similar ; an- 
 other tidy kitchen sheltered us from the rain, and its "mistress 
 baked cakes for our supper. First she went to the china-closet 
 with a tray, and putting the tea-dishes on it, in but two journeys 
 to the closet her table was nicely set. Then with her tray she 
 
340 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 visited her store-closet, and brought to the table at one trip 
 butter, bread, cream, preserves, cold meat, and so on. That care 
 being off her mind, she put her griddle on the stove and opened 
 the draught. Next she went to her store-closet for material for 
 her cakes. She mixed the cakes in a large pitcher, with a 
 strong egg-beater. First she put into the pitcher the buttermilk 
 and soda; then she beat the eggs on a plate and turned them 
 in; then put in the flour, salt, and other ingredients; when the 
 batter was ready the baking-table was unsoiled, and only a 
 saucer and an egg-beater lay on it for washing. She set open 
 the oven-door, and stood within it two plates for her cakes, and 
 the dish with her greaser ; then she rubbed the griddle well with 
 salt, and so only greased it about one-fifth as much as the other 
 housewife, saving smoke and trouble. She poured the cakes 
 upon the griddle from the nose of the pitcher, so saving all drip- 
 ping, and between whiles she set the pitcher on the hearth, so 
 that she had no journeys to and from the table; in fact, she never 
 left the stove while she baked, but stepping back a little from 
 the heat she chatted with us, and in half an hour from the time 
 when she began to get supper she had the meal all on the table 
 in an orderly room, and when supper was ended she cleared it 
 away in half an hour. There was no stove to polish; no table 
 to scrub ; no spots on the floor were to be wiped up, and the 
 work ended, she resumed her white apron and sat down on the 
 porch in her rocking-chair, evidently knowing how to rest, as 
 well as how to work." 
 
 " That's it; that's it," said the Doctor; " the thing is to know 
 how to do it. Mothers should not be content to teach theii 
 daughters" housework, but how to do it in the quickest, nicest 
 way ; not merely instructing in the ingredients that form a pound- 
 cake, but how to use the fewest utensils, and the least time and 
 irouble in compounding it ; some women, and delicate women 
 top. have a fear of seeming lazy in work. Whose business is if 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 341 
 
 how they seem if the work is properly done, and their own health 
 
 and comfort are cared for? Are health and comfort things of 
 
 small account ? We have societies for prevention of cruelty to 
 
 animals and to children : I wish we had a society for preventing 
 
 housewives and house-mothers from being cruel to themselves. 
 
 They think it ' looks foolish ' to lie down in daytime ; it ' looks 
 
 lazy' to sit while they pare vegetables, or mix cake, or wipe 
 
 dishes, or polish knives ; it ' looks extravagant ' to cover their 
 
 working-tables with oil-cloths, and to use plenty of hiats and 
 
 rugs, and ammonia, or borax, or soda for cleaning, instead of 
 
 driving all their own failing vitality into scrubbing-brushes. 
 
 And by these false ideas of ' looks ' — I wish the word had never 
 
 been heard of — they reduce themselves to invalids who must lie 
 
 down all the time, or the over-active life ends in premature 
 
 death, or the extravagance runs into doctors' and druggists' and 
 
 asylum bills. How illogical we humans are! as I look at my 
 
 patients, I often think we are all a little mad!" 
 
 "You impress me," said Doctor Nugent, "with the enormity 
 
 of an evil which I never before realized. The book which Mr. 
 
 t 
 Rocheford suggests should be written, and Aunt Sophronia, 
 
 who knows how to do all kinds of housework in the very best 
 
 manner, must write it." 
 
 " Thank you," I replied; " I am quite too old to turn authoress, 
 
 but I feel the great importance of what has been said, and I am 
 
 resolved in my little sphere, here in the village and the country 
 
 around, to try more and more to impress on my young friends 
 
 the need of taking care of themselves ; of having a little reserve 
 
 strength laid up for emergencies, and not every day over-drawing 
 
 our account on vitality. As has been said, the trouble lies in 
 
 ignorance, not in labor. It is not that there is too much in the 
 
 world to be done, but that we do not know how to do it ; we 
 
 make our work less by having a right way of performing it 
 
 Method is the time and strength-saver, and reason is to be applied 
 
 to baking, boiling and dish-washing." 
 
342 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 How much and how often have I thought of that evening's 
 conversation ! What important themes it touched, and themes 
 so often under-estimated ! We do not live in a lazy age ; it is 
 an age of activity, and yet of poorly distributed activity often- 
 times, where a few members of a family are striving to do the 
 work of all, and fathers and mothers, or conscientious eldei 
 daughters, are doing the share of work lawfully belonging to 
 indolent and over-indulged juniors : the one party getting toe 
 much and the other too little rest. I notice that these active 
 people, when they are really over-worked and worn-out, attribute 
 their weariness to any cause but the right one ; they will not 
 face the fact that they are over-wrought and need repose, that 
 the nerves kept at their best tension for too long a time must be 
 relaxed by amusements like little children's. I remember once 
 hearing some one ask a famous authoress how she managed ta 
 execute such a prodigious amount of work ; and she replied 
 ' Merely by knowing how at proper times to rest and to play,' 
 and a friend of hers told me that she believed this was the 
 secret, for she had seen her when tired drop into a state of such 
 perfect quiescence that she seemed rather like a piece of restful 
 Statuary than like a living organism ; and that out in the woods, 
 in the mountains, by the sea, or by some mountain stream, she 
 could entertain herself with all the abandon of a child. 
 
 One of the most famous of the superintendents of our Stata 
 Lunatic Asylums says : " We all know that a steam-engine, 
 calculated to do a certain amount of work in a day, will wear 
 out very rapidly if forced to do double that work. And as thft 
 human body is composed of a varietj'- of the most delicately 
 constructed organs, each designed to perform a certain amount 
 and character of work within certain limits, and in a specified 
 time, so every effort to compel these organs to do more work 
 in a given time than they were designed by their Constructor to 
 do, will speedily derange their action and give rise to disease." 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 343 
 
 And Still there comes that cry, especially from house-mothers, 
 that there is a certain amount of work that they must do, and it is 
 an amount which is wearing them out. The question is first to 
 sift the work. to the really needful and the fairly required, and 
 then to know how to do in the very best time-and-labor-saving 
 methods that which remains. For instance, when it comes to 
 this closest question of labor-saving, when only one pair of 
 woman's hands are ready to do a family's work, and that 
 woman must have resting time, let her cut off scrupulously all 
 labor that is for mere ornament, in dress and furnishings ; let 
 there be plain hems now ; by-and-by these little girls will have 
 grown up, and . these boys will be old enough to help more, to 
 bring in less mud, and to wear out less clothes, and then you 
 can have fancy quilts, and toilettes, and pillow-shams, and aprons, 
 and underclothes. Only try now to spare the mother to train 
 up her children in helpfi|ilness, kindness, courtesy, home-loving, 
 and it will seem after all but a little whilp until the problem has 
 solved itself; and to-day's little hinderers will be to-morrow's 
 little helpers, and you can have <vhat you now crave of pretty 
 things, and are now by your common-sense denied. Again, 
 *hese over-taxed housewives forget that there is rest to be gained 
 in many ways : First, by change of work. Don't stand at the 
 ironing-board until you are ready to drop, but go out on the 
 porch, or into the sitting-room and peel the potatoes and turnipp. 
 Again, there is rest in exercise : you have sewed, and nursed 
 baby, and washed dishes, and have not looked out-of-doors this 
 long while ; go out-of-doors, walk about your garden, or go to 
 see your neighbor, or take a friendly look at the cov/s in the 
 pasture, or at the poultry in the yard. But there is a fatigue 
 that is not to be healed by change of work nor by walking : it 
 needs perfect quiet. Don't always fancy that you can rest by 
 changing or by out-of-door exercise. When you feel languid 
 and weak, unattracted by out-of-doo's, ind when to move eyes 
 
344 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 or hands seems as hard as to move feet, be wise in time : go and 
 rest. Smooth your hair, rinse your face and hands, take off 
 your shoes, he down on your bed or on a lounge in a shaded 
 room, or rechne in a big chair, and shut your eyes and your 
 ears, and be resolved to rest. Do this even if it deprives the 
 family of their dessert at dinner, or their warm biscuits for 
 supper, or their cake for over Sunday ; it will be much better for 
 them to lack these things for a few times than to go to your 
 funeral, or endure a six months' reign of Biddy in the kitchen. 
 Even if, as I can hardly believe possible, some uncomprehending 
 masculine grumbles at the lack of his wonted luxuries, never 
 mind : people often do not understand what is for their real good 
 
 Some women wear out their vitality in doing work not fairly 
 required of them. They, by a foolish yielding to unjust en- 
 croachments, not only shorten their own lives, but aggravate 
 the selfishness or ignorance and future remorse of others. 
 Thus, while there is a husband and a farm-hand or two, even a 
 son, possibly, the housewife may be left to get her own wood, 
 tD cut or pick up her own kindling, or be expected to carry a 
 Ijnch to workers in the field — this, too, when she has a family 
 to wash, iron, cook, bake, scrub and nurse for. To submit to 
 such demands is absurd. The ones who make them, do not 
 realize what they are asking; to set the matter plainly before 
 them, and positively refuse to go beyond a decent limit, would 
 bring all things right. There is a deal of difference between 
 firmness and quarrelling. 
 
 Another thing that is to be considered in regard to ovei- 
 working and under-resting is, that as all clocks need winding, 
 so all human brains and bodies need to be wound up by sleep- 
 ing. No one ever gained a permanent advantage by depriving 
 himself of needed sleep. Regular and abundant sleep at night 
 is needful to maintain the health of all ages and conditions. 
 Sleep before midnight is more refreshing than after. No one 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 345 
 
 who is active in brain or body during his waking hours will get 
 too much sleep. Let him sleep all he can. Don't steal sleep 
 hours for doing little extra things which had better not be done 
 at all. Get to bed regularly at an early hour, and do not rise 
 earlier than you need merely to be called an early riser, a great 
 worker, and to boast of having half your work done before your 
 neighbors were up. 
 
 Some people not only fail to give their exhausted energies 
 sleeping time in which to recuperate, but they fail to give them 
 plenty of easily digested food on which to recuperate. They 
 get too tired to eat, or they go to their meals over-exhausted, 
 and as soon as they have swallowed a little food, for which they 
 did not half care, they ^'ump up from the table and go to work 
 again. The stomach cannot assimilate the food ; the veins are 
 not filled with good blood ; they have no vitality to distribute to 
 nerves and muscles, and flesh grows flabby and pale ; the nerves 
 twitch and tremble; the muscles do not half work ; the whole 
 frame is dropping to pieces for want of what God has offered to 
 it and foolish humanity has neglected — food and sleep! 
 
 I was discoursing somewhat in this fashion one day very 
 energetically to my three nieces, with Mary Watkins, and Sara, 
 and Grace Winton, who had come to tea with me. 
 
 " Still," said Mary Watkins, " granted that we rest as we can, 
 sleep and eat as best we may, cut off" the superfluous, reject the 
 bringing of wood and drawing of water — yet, after all, we find a 
 deal of work which we must do, work enough to make us very 
 tired; especially with two or three or more little children on 
 hand, poor maid or none, and churning, pickling, preserving 
 lard-rendering, house-work, daily and weekly cleaning, mend- 
 ing and making, we stand a fair chance of being over-worked 
 and under-rested, do the best we may." 
 
 "Unless we know some very superior methods," said Hester. 
 
 " Just what I positively insist on having Aunt Sophronia tell 
 us," said Miriam. 
 
346 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Before I say anything else," I remarked, " I must impress 
 it on you that mind and body are so closely connected, that 
 mind can tire body out by carrying burdens even if they are 
 only imaginary. We wear out minds and bodies by enumer- 
 ating to ourselves our future toils. To-day we are ironing ; and 
 if as we iron we forecast how hard it will be in the fall to put 
 up twenty jars of pickles and jellies, and as many more of 
 preserves, and how very hard the fall-cleaning will be, and how 
 weary the work at killing-time will seem, why, then, taking 
 trouble in advance of need, and paying heavy interest for it, 
 we exhaust ourselves. Listen to what John Newton says : 
 ' We can easily manage if we will only take each day the 
 burden appointed for it. But the burden will be too heavy for 
 us if we add to it the weight of to-morrow before we are called 
 to bear it.' " 
 
 " That suits me," said Helen, " for that is one way in which I 
 am always tiring myself Counting, for instance, in my mind 
 how many clothes the children will require to have made in a 
 year." 
 
 "Now," said Miriam, "we have laid up in our minds that 
 good counsel, and the theory of not forecasting trouble. And 
 now we must come to the practical part. There is work to he 
 done: now how to do it; what' method shall make the burden 
 light? how shall we gather the rose of duty done without 
 tearing ourselves on its thorns ? " 
 
 " I do not see," I said, " but you had better, if you have any 
 especial work in your minds, come to the point about that at 
 once, and we will all make the best suggestions that we can. 
 That will at least be fully practical." 
 
 "All right," spoke up Helen. " I've put a new oil-cloth on 
 my two big halls. The last one wore out too quickly by hili] 
 and took so long to scrub that I dreaded having the chamber- 
 maid get at it. She spent all the morning on it." 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 347 
 
 "No scrubbing," I said, "if you want a nice oil-cloth, and one 
 to last a long while. Let it be swept with a soft broom ; then 
 on sweeping-day, after the dusting is done, tie up your broom in 
 a bag of old flannel, and dry-wipe the oil-cloth : it can be done 
 in a few minutes, and will make it look clean and bright. 
 Treated in this way, it will be long before the cloth needs any 
 washing ; if it gets a spot on it, wipe it off in warm skim-milk. 
 When it must be washed, mix a little borax and hard soap in 
 part of a pail of warm water ; rub it well with this, but use no 
 brush; have ready half a pail of warm water and skimmed milk, 
 and wipe oiif the oil-cloth with this and a flannel ; set open the 
 doors, and let it air-dry. Wash it as little as possible ; when, 
 after two years or so of use, it begins to look dim and wear a 
 little, have it well washed and dried, and varnish it thoroughly : 
 you will have to keep the hall unused for two or three days 
 while the varnish hardens. Cared for in this way a good oil- 
 cloth will last for years." 
 
 My auditors had all been taking notes in their pocket-note- 
 books. When they had finished, Mary Watkins said : 
 
 " That is very satisfactory ; now tell me something. This 
 morning I spent more than an hour, and nearly scrubbed off 
 the ends of my fingers in cleaning off" some rust from my best 
 knives, which had been put by for two or three months. Now, 
 I want to know first, how I could have prevented the rusting ? 
 second, how to clean it off" well and easily ? and third, how to 
 clean my knives?" 
 
 " First, then, the knives were possibly a little damp when put 
 away, or were in a damp place. Before putting by your knives, 
 they should have been well rubbed with a bit of newspaper. 
 Then you should have laid down a piece of paper, and folded 
 the edge of it over a knife; then another knife, laying them 
 handle to blade with the paper covering each one. Put up each 
 half-dozen in a separate paper. Then wrap up these papered 
 
348 '^'^'^ COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 knives in a piece of chamois leather or a strip of flannel, and 
 shut them up in a paste-board box ; put this in an ordinarily 
 dry place, and your knives vill never rust. Second : how to 
 clean off rust. Wrap the rusted article in a cloth, soaked in 
 kerosene oil, and let it be for twenty-four hours ; then scour 
 with bath-brick; rub with whiting or the old-fashioned rotten- 
 stone; then rub with sweet oil, and after this, wash in hot 
 suds; dry well with paper, and put by as just directed. Very 
 deep spots of red rust can be eradicated by rubbing them with 
 salt and vinegar. Third : how to clean your knives. Use bath- 
 brick or a little well-powdered ashes. Have a board for the 
 purpose, with a box of your cleaning-powder and two large 
 corks, say an inch and a half in diameter, and two inches high : 
 use one cork to rub the moistened powder on the knives, being 
 careful not to bend the blade, but keep it flat to the board ; then 
 rub with the other cork and dry dust or powder ; after this, rub 
 the knife well with a scrap of newspaper. Many people ruin 
 their knife-cleaning b]' wiping on a cloth or towel, which is sure 
 to leave dampness or a streak of some sort. Two or three times 
 weekly, spread your knives on a tray in the sun for an hour. 
 Knives should be washed in clean water, and scoured as soon as 
 washed — it spoils them to lie wet; also never throw them in 
 a pan of hot water: that spoils alike handles and temper. 
 Hold them by their handles while you wash the blades in warm 
 suds ; then if the handles need water, shake them through warm 
 water, holding the knives by the blades. Keep knives in a dry 
 box by themselves. Always have for use in the cooking, lead 
 or iron spoons and certain forks and knives, which are not used 
 on the table. Many people use their table-cutlery and spoons 
 in stirring cooking and in pot-scraping, and consequently never 
 have anything- nice for the table." 
 
 " Speaking of scraping skillets and saucepans," said Miriam, 
 ' let me tell you that shells, a 1 ir^je clam or muscle shell, are 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 349 
 
 worth ten knives. I have some shells kept in the kitchen 
 always for this use ; they save time, and make better work of 
 that part of the cleaning." 
 
 " Possibly," said Helen, " you can make some suggestions 
 about cleaning tins. Every once in a while I find that our tin- 
 cups, pails and basins look like dull lead ; I say they must be 
 scoured, and the kitchen-maid spends half a day at it, covering 
 the table with brick-dust and ashes, getting behind-hand in the 
 work, and losing her temper." 
 
 " This is one of the ways," I said, " in which a litde daily 
 neglect doubles our ordinary work ; tins need particular care, but 
 it takes very little time if regularly given. The tins must not be 
 washed in water where greasy plates or meat-dishes have been. 
 The common plan is to suds them out after the dishes; wipe 
 them with a towel, and hang them up ; in a week their bright- 
 ness is lost. Tins must be washed in strong, hot suds, where no 
 other dishes have been put; rub them hard in the suds; then 
 shake them out; dash a little scalding water, with a cup, on them 
 and turn them to drain in a warm place. As soon as they 
 are dry, take half a newspaper, and rub them vigorously outside 
 and in : they will shine like new. About once a week, set them 
 in the sun for an hour after they are rubbed with paper. Sedu- 
 lously treated in this way, weeks or months may pass without 
 their needing an especial scouring. When more than this 
 cleaning which I have indicated is needed, take a flannel well 
 sprinkled with dry whiting, and rub them hard with that, and 
 finish off with paper. Paper is one of the best materials for 
 cleaning that we can have in the house. Knives and tins 
 rubbed with it preserve their brightness ; if the stove is polished 
 twice a week, and rubbed hard with paper on the other days, 
 with ordinary care it will always look clean and bright. Paper 
 is better than a cloth for rubbing windows and looking-glasses 
 
 and table-glass " 
 23 
 
350 ^-^^-^ COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 "As we are on the subject of cleaning," said Sara, " I might 
 remark that people give themselves a deal of needless trouble 
 about taking care of their silver. The silver is washed in water 
 with other dishes, is washed perhaps in water that is half cold ; 
 then it lies for ten or fifteen minutes before it is wiped ; and is 
 wiped possibly on a damp towel. This usage keeps it always 
 dim in its color, and it needs a weekly scouring with whiting : 
 in this Way it is nearly rubbed to pieces. The proper way to 
 wash silver is, to wash it by itself in scalding hot suds in which 
 nothing else has been washed; if the silver is much soiled, hold 
 the forks, spoons and so forth by the handles, and pour a stream 
 of clear, hot water over the soiled parts to free them ; then put 
 the silver into the clean suds ; rub it well with a sponge fastened 
 to a stick ; drain it out, and without rinsing, wipe it very vigor- 
 ously on a clean towel: it will shine as if newly polished. Once 
 a week after the suds, drop the silver into a pan of hot water 
 pretty strong of ammonia; wash it well in this; wipe, and then 
 rub with paper. The silver will need no scouring, no silver- 
 soap or whiting cleaning for a six months ; will look better, and 
 liist longer." 
 
 " Thanks," said Mary Watkins ; " that will save me some 
 trouble. Now, .how shall one wash iron-pots, saucepans and 
 griddles quickly and easily? They are heavy, and take a deal 
 ■of time, and are very hard on one's hands." 
 
 " It is well," I said, " to use a wooden-tub, large enough to 
 manage them in; have plenty of hot water, and a small, thick 
 scrubbing-brush with a high handle. Keep on hand some 
 strong sal-soda water or some fine ashes; dip the brush into 
 either of these, and scrub the pot inside and out. The brush 
 protects your hands, and cleans twice as well and quickly as a 
 cloth ; rinse in hot water, and dry on the stove. Of course 
 before putting into the tub, the inside should be scraped, if any- 
 thing is adhering; and they should be rinsed, and the water 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. Zh\ 
 
 thrown out. The practice of washing pots and pans in soiled 
 dish water, wiping them with a wrung-out dish-cloth, and hang- 
 ing them up all black and shiny within is dirty and unhealthful. 
 Clean iron has a gray look." 
 
 " Nothing saves labor so much," said Sara, " as thoroughness 
 and doing things in the right way. It is much less trouble to 
 scour pans and pots and griddles well, than it is to half wash 
 them ; if they are not well washed, they will burn, and the next 
 thing cooked in them is likely to stick, and cause increased 
 labor. Some people spend three times as much time as they 
 should on clearing off tables and washing dishes. Mother 
 taught us very carefully how to do those things, and I never saw 
 any house where both tasks were performed more speedily and 
 neatly. Some people pick up their dishes, and carry them off 
 promiscuously to sink or kitchen-table — knives,- silver, glass, 
 unscraped plates, cold meats, set down together, just as it hap- 
 pens : cups, platters, plates, tumblers, knives, spoons, go into the 
 dish-pan as they are picked up ; the confusion embarrasses the 
 work, and a long time is required to get it very poorly done. 
 We were taught, as soon as the meal was over, to put away 
 bread, meat, butter, milk — all the eatables which were left — in 
 their proper places, and on proper dishes. Next the salts were 
 refilled, the caster was wiped, and these were removed. Then 
 the knives were gathered into a tray, the forks and spoons into 
 a deep dish, and they were carried off; then the cups and 
 saucers were drained, piled up together, carried to the sink, or 
 wherever they were to be washed, and set in order there. Next 
 the glass-ware was drained and removed ; then the plates and 
 sauce-dishes were scraped and piled up. The refuse was at once 
 carried off; the cloth shaken and folded into its box : then all our 
 work was at the sink. We did not make ourselves work by spar- 
 ing hot water : first, the glass-ware was washed, wiped and put 
 away ; then the silver was well rubbed in clean, hot suds, pol- 
 
352 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ished with the clean towel kept for it, and put by. The knives 
 were washed after the silver; were at once scoured, and laid, 
 when rubbed with paper, in the sunshine. A fresh pan of dish- 
 water and a pan of hot rinsing-water were provided, and cups 
 and saucers were invariably washed first; next followed the 
 sauce-plates and vegetable-dishes ; then the plates, and then the 
 meat-platters — if needful, we changed the dish-suds when we 
 came to plates and platters. The dishes were rinsed through 
 the clear water, and put to drain, and when all were washed, we 
 began at those which had drained the longest, wiped them and 
 put them in their places. The tins were washed alone, and 
 then the cooking utensils in clean suds. Next, the dish-cloths 
 and towels were washed in clean water, and laid in the sun, or 
 hung up on a little frame behind the stove. The dish-pans and 
 sink were well cleaned, the table wiped ; and really it seems as 
 if we did' the work nicely in the time which I have used in 
 describing its order." 
 
 " Dear, dear," said Helen ; " if I could get Hannah to use 
 such order^ our kitchen work would be lessened by one-half" 
 
 " Write it out fairly, and hang it up over the kitchen-table," 
 said Miriam. " I did that, and my servant improved wondet- 
 fully. I told her to try it thoroughly for a month, and if it did 
 not save her time and work she could try some other way. 
 She tried the plan of exact order, and prized the advantage too 
 highly to relapse into carelessness." 
 
 " I think," said Sara, " that our Grace must tell us how to 
 sweep a room. She makes a fine art of that bit of work." 
 
 "Why, no," laughed Grace, "I only sweep and dust in a 
 natural and proper way as any one does." 
 
 " Indeed," I replied, " there are dozens of different ways of 
 dusting and sweeping, and some of them will be good and some 
 very bad. Let us hear yours. Sweeping and dusting are a 
 li'ge part of our housework, and can be a heavy tax on time 
 and strength." 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN ThE HOME. 355 
 
 "' Well, then," said Grace, " I begin by opening as many 
 windows as the weather will permit. Next, I dust all chairs, 
 stocls and small furniture, and set them out in an entry or in 
 the next room. Then I remove all books and small ornaments, 
 dusting them as I do so, and generally putting them on some 
 light stand which has been carried out. Then, I shake the 
 'table covers and take them away, shake the curtain folds and 
 pin 1 aem up, and with a feather-duster brush loose dust from 
 mani ;ls and heavy furniture. Next, I look after cob-webs, and 
 with 1 short hand broom I brush out the dust from the corners 
 and idges of the carpet. If there is large furniture, as bed, 
 bure lu, piano or sofa, left in the room, I cover those pieces with 
 covej-s kept for the purpose, or with sheets. I pick up all large 
 scraps, as of paper or cloth, all straws, broom-wisps or long 
 threads, for you may sweep a carpet half to pieces trying to get 
 these up with a broom. After this, I sweep from the sides 
 toward the centre of the room : if you sweep toward a door, or 
 the side of the room, there are cracks, and angles, and seams in 
 which the dust lodges. After the dust is all swept together I 
 use the hand-broom to collect it upon the dust-pan. Before 
 sweeping I dip my broom in a pail of thin warm suds, and then 
 beat out all the water from it : this is good to keep the broom 
 froin wearing, good to keep the dust from rising, and good to 
 brighten the carpet. If a carpet is very dusty, so that the 
 broom becomes dirty during the sweeping, it is well to wash it 
 out when the room is half done ; but a room properly cleansed 
 every week does not become so dirty. When the sweeping is 
 finished I dust all the wood-work with a feather-brush or a 
 wing. Then I wipe the window-sills and around the door- 
 handles with a sponge squeezed out of ammonia water. I dust 
 the pictures with a feather-brush; rub the windows with a 
 newspaper, sometimes damping it in ammonia water; then I 
 shake out the curtains; remove the covers from the standing 
 
3o4 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 furniture and dust it; sometimes I take a very light broom 
 tied into a cotton bag, and with it lightly wipe off the wall- 
 paper ; then I bring back the furniture and ornaments which were 
 carried out. With such a cleaning once a week, a room only 
 needs a little setting in order each morning to keep it nice ; the 
 curtains, carpets and furniture last at their best for a long while. 
 If furniture is left in the room and uncovered while sweeping is 
 going on, it gets loaded with dust; in wiping this off, much is 
 rubbed into the furniture, giving it a dull, grimy look, and it 
 soon fades. It is not any more trouble to clean things and set 
 them into an adjacent room, than it is to keep moving them out 
 of your way and then having a thick coat of dust to wipe off. 
 If our carpets get stained or spotted, we wash the spots carefully 
 with a flannel and ammonia water. You can make a carpet 
 look very bright and fresh in winter by sprinkling it well with 
 new-fallen snow and sweeping it rapidly, only there must be no 
 fire in the room to melt the snow. To sweep the carpets now 
 and then with coarse salt is very good to brighten them and 
 destroy insects. But the best cleaner and freshener is a pail of 
 ammonia water, wiping the carpet well with this and a flannel, 
 and leaving the windows open to air and dry it for an hour ; 
 rugs and mats are much rejuvenated by such a rubbing. It is 
 also a good plan to save tea-leaves, and with them, not too 
 moist, to sweep dark or green carpets occasionally ; they are 
 not good for light carpets." 
 
 " You know," said Hester, " what Irving says of the good 
 Dutch housewives of ancient New York, that they kept a parlor 
 apparently sacred to nothing but a weekly ceremony of clean- 
 ing. Weddings, christenings and funerals were permitted to 
 take place in this beloved apartment, but for the rest it stood 
 closed, except for its owner's weekly visit with broom and 
 duster. I am no advocate of shut-up rooms. I think all parts 
 of our house should be open for the comfort and pleasure of the 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 355 
 
 family. Still there are rooms which are used comparatively- 
 little, and for these we should not be enslaved by the Dutch 
 housewife's idea of a weekly cleaning. They may not need to 
 ■ be cleaned so often, and we should not, as a mere form, encum- 
 ber ourselves with needless tasks. If rooms, that are not in 
 regular use, gre sunned and aired and looked after each week, 
 it is enough to give them a thorough cleaning when they need 
 it. We must control our house-work, and not allow it to con- 
 trol us. The less is made for the greater." 
 
 " I am glad you mentioned that," said Miriam, " for I have 
 often seen people needlessly fatiguing themselves to perform 
 work done to suit a rule, and not to fill a need." 
 
 "Washing," said Mary Watkins, "is a great burden, and often 
 a family bugbear; let us hear if there is any way to lighten that 
 burden. Sara, what was your mother's wisdom about washing- 
 day? She will be a prime authority." 
 
 Just as Sara was about to reply, Cousin Ann herself entered, 
 a;id was at once requested to give us the fruits of her experience. 
 She said that she had lately given some advice on this subject 
 to her daughters-in-law, and she would repeat the substance of 
 it to us. " If possible, have only one washing-day in a week ; 
 have one every week, for if clothes lie long soiled they are harder 
 to wash, and wear out faster. Have, if possible, the washing- 
 day early in the week. Remember that washing is very hard 
 work ; more young women break down their strength with wash- 
 ing than with any other toil : therefore, go at it reasonably. As 
 it is such hard work, be sure, in the first place, and do not undet.. 
 take too much other work on washing-day ; have, then, as little 
 extra work to do as possible. Don't churn and bake, and clean 
 and wash all on one day. For this reason I should say if the 
 young housewife does her work alone, she had much better 
 wash on Tuesday than on Monday. You see, often over Sun- 
 day the pies and the bread come short, and will not hold out 
 
356 THE COMPLETE HO MB:. 
 
 until Tuesday, and there is nothing on hand for dinner, and if 
 no churning was done on Sunday there is churning for Monday, 
 and all these duties are too much for one woman, especially 
 when we consider that on Mondays the house needs a little 
 extra setting in order, and generally there is a baby or small 
 child to need attention. If the house-mother bakes, roasts, 
 churns, nurses baby, and washes, she gets exhausted ; her vital- 
 ity is sapped; she is laying the foundation of disease and inviting 
 premature death. How many such over-working mothers tell 
 you that the baby is 'always cross on Monday! ' No wonder; 
 not only must care be hastily bestowed, but the over-heated, 
 tired, worried, excited mother sits down to nurse the babe, and 
 he draws poison and not health from her fevered veins ; the child 
 sleeps poorly, and cries loudly; his nerves and veins are sharing 
 the maternal unrest ; he is wakeful all night to help wear out 
 his mother, and half the week passes before the natural tone of 
 the outraged little system is restored. 
 
 " Now suppose on Monday the young house-mother makes 
 tidy her house; sees that bread is prepared to last at least until 
 Thursday; churns, gets pies or some dessert ready for next day, 
 and roasts or boils a piece of meat also for wash-day dinner; then 
 in the evening, if there is a press of milk, it will be better to 
 churn again, so as not to start washing-day at the churn. Then 
 when the babe is in bed the mother prepares the clothes for the 
 wash. The white clothes are divided, coarse and fine ; get ready 
 for each lot a tub half-full of pretty warm water, with a large 
 tablespoonful of soft-soap and a teaspoon of borax, or half a 
 teaspoonful of sal-soda powder, stirred in it. Into this put the 
 clothes to soak, pressing each piece well into the water ; if any 
 pieces are very much soiled, as, for instance, socks, or working 
 shirts, put them in a pail alone. In the morning take a pounder, 
 not a large, heavy, old-fashioned affair, but one about twice as 
 large as a potatoe-masher, and pound your fine clothes a little; 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 357 
 
 then wring each piece out into your washing-tub of hot suds ; 
 you will be surprised to see that half the dirt is already out of 
 your clothes, and the other half yields very easily to a little 
 rubbing. The advantage gained in time and hard work by this 
 soaking of the clothes is an additional reason for having the 
 washing done on Tuesday. Clothes should not be boiled much, 
 as it yellows and rots the fibre ; often they will look as well for 
 being put in a tub and having boiling water poured over them, 
 lying in it until it' cools, instead of being boiled in a tin boiler. 
 After the boiling, the clothes should pass through warm, clear 
 water before being put into a light-bluing water, as unless all 
 soap-suds is taken out of them before the blue, they will have a 
 dull, yellowish look. Clothes should be turned in the washing, 
 and should be hung up wrong-side-out. If young women would 
 only remember not to mix other work with washing; if they 
 would not hurry too much to be "smart about getting done;' if 
 they would lighten the task by soaking the clothes, and by using 
 a clothes-wringer, if they could possibly get one, and if especially 
 they would remember that haste makes waste, and instead of 
 straining their chests and ruining their backs by lifting whole 
 tubs of water, or boilers of clothes, or by carrying to the line a 
 basket heaped with wet clothes, when by lifting water by pailsful, 
 and by carrying part of their clothes only at once, they could 
 spare the dangerous strain, we should have fewer broken-down 
 women." 
 
 Martha came to call us to tea. 
 
 "Oh," cried Helen, "do wait one minute until I ask Cousin 
 Ann how to iron lace-curtains : mine must be done up." 
 
 "You do not iron them at all," said Cousin Ann; "have 
 ready some long strips of wood — like quilting-frames — as long 
 as your curtains. Wind them with cloth, and lay them on 
 chairs in the sun ; stretch the curtain and pin it to these frames, 
 pulling every scallop and curve even; be careful to take new 
 pins that will not rust." 
 
358 T^HE COM! LETE HOME. 
 
 "Thank you; and now just one word : why did my red break 
 fast-cloth and napkins fade sooner than Miriam's?" 
 
 " Because, first, too much soap was rubbed on them ; and 
 second, they were dried in the sun : colored things should be 
 dried in the shade." 
 
 After tea. Cousin Ann was again assailed by her young friends 
 with questions, but secured her release by promising them 
 certain new recipes. These I obtained from Miriam's book, al 
 follows : 
 
 The Uses of a Pan of Bread Sponge. — i. Take one pint of 
 the sponge, add one tablespoon sugar, one tablespoon meltj" 
 butter, one egg, and set it to rise for biscuits. 
 
 2. Take another pint of the sponge, one cup of molasse.s. 
 three tablespoons sour milk or cream, one-half teaspoon each ot 
 soda and cream of tartar, two eggs, one nutmeg, and set it to 
 rise for doughnuts. 
 
 3. Knead the rest of the sponge as for bread. 
 
 4. When the dough for the bread is light, cut off a piece tn^ 
 size of a small bowl. Make up the rest into loaves. 
 
 5. Take the piece of reserved dough and cut it up fine in a 
 pan, add one cup brown sugar, one tablespoon of cinnamon, one 
 cup raisins or currants, one-half cup sour milk, one spoon soda, 
 two or three eggs well beaten, mix these into a smooth paste, 
 and steam four hours in a buttered dish, and' you have a 
 delicious pudding. 
 
 Scrapel. — The head, knees, or part of the neck of a pig; an 
 amount of beef from the neck or knuckle about equal in weight 
 to the pork. Let these boil together all day. When the meat 
 has boiled into ft igments, carefully sift out all the bones, chof 
 very fine, add salt, pepper and sweet herbs to taste. Let there be 
 water enough to receive about half as much corn-meal as there 
 is of meat. Set the pot back on the fire, and stir in the corn- 
 meal until it is as thick as hasty-pudding, which will be solid 
 
METHODS OF WORK IN THE HOME. 359 
 
 when cold. This is a delicious breakfast dtsh cut in slices and 
 fried. As it is very much thicker with meat than the ordinary 
 scrapel, it will last good in a cold place for some time. In 
 winter it can be kept four or five weeks. The meat must be 
 carefully cleaned, and well skimmed while boiling. 
 
 Pressed Meat. — This a delightful relish for tea or luncheon. 
 Take of veal, lamb, or beef, or mutton, the knuckle-pieces, with 
 very little fat upon them. Put into cold water and let them 
 boil for a number of hours until the meat is reduced to small 
 bits. Skim out the bones, and chop the meat very fine ; season 
 to taste. This should have been boiled down to such consist- 
 ency that when cold it will be a solid jelly, which will slice like 
 head-cheese. This is very delicate in the spring made of veal 
 and chicken ; an old fowl, if not too fat, is better for it than a 
 young one. In cold weather it will keep perfectly good ten 
 days. 
 
 A Dressing for Cold Sliced Meat. — One-half cup vinegar, one 
 teaspoon salt, one teaspoon sugar, one tablespoon mustard, one 
 tablespoon olive oil ; mix well. 
 
 Cake Cream. — Slice stale cake and put in a pudding-dish in 
 layers with preserves or with stewed raisins. Pour over this 
 half a cup of sweet cream well sugared, cover the top with a' 
 layer of cake, and spread on this a frosting as for cake ; put in 
 the oven for a few minutes. Serve cold. 
 
 Frosted Fruit. — Take peaches, berries, currants, or any summei 
 fruit, and stir well through it frosting, prepared as for cake, of 
 whites of eggs and powdered sugar ; spread it on a platter and 
 set it on ice until sent to the table. 
 
 Cranberry Cake. — Put in layers, first cranberry jelly strained 
 and smooth, then slices of stale white cake, then custard made 
 of the yolks of eggs, then cake, then cranberry, then cake, then 
 a frosting made of the whites of the eggs. Serve cold with cream. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE UNITY OF THE HOME. 
 
 WHAT VJNT SOPHRONIA THINKS OF FAMILY ACCORD^ DISCORD 
 
 AND CONCORD. 
 
 WISH it were written over the entrance of every Home, 
 "A house divided against itself cannot stand." If the 
 Home is to be durable and prosperous, there must be 
 unity between its members. A true Home is not a 
 boarding-house where people come and go, are glad or sorry, 
 prosperous or unfortunate, just as it happens, for themselves 
 alone, without affecting the other members of the household. 
 The units, which make up the home, in a great measure stand or 
 fall together : the prosperity of one is the prosperity of all ; the 
 disgrace of one is the disgrace of all. I have seen homes 
 where it was assumed by the husband that his business was 
 • entirely his own business, that his wife or children were entitled 
 to know nothing about it ; he might reach profit or loss, con- 
 tract or pay debts, and it was no concern of his wife or children. 
 The wife, proceeding in the same fashion, spent or saved as she 
 liked in her dress, housekeeping and in rearing her children. 
 The children made their own plans, friends, engagements, bar- 
 gains. The servants were sedulously kept apart from any 
 family interests, were fixedly shown that they were hirelings 
 with certain work to do for certain wages, and oftentimes the 
 work was shirked or slighted, and sometimes the wages were 
 long unpaid. Such a household is a rope of sand: the least 
 
 touch of disaster breaks it asunder; its parts fly far from 
 i360) 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. Sfi] 
 
 each other to meet no more. The son errs and is bidden never 
 to cross again the parental door; the daughter, in whom httle 
 personal, interest has been taken, contracts a marriage which her 
 parents disapprove, and is ignored; the sisters and brothers drift 
 to different cities and neglect to correspond : they grow in time 
 to forget each other's faces ; the parents are left alone in. a love- 
 less age. Here has been a Home but in seeming ; it was but 
 the false shadow of the real Home; there is nothing in this 
 gathering of diverse tastes and aims to project itself into the 
 future world as having in itself the deathless germ of immor- 
 iality. 
 
 When by two young people a household is established, it 
 should be clearly understood from the start that there is a com- 
 munity of interest ; that what concerns one concerns all ; that 
 secrecies are disastrous. The man who keeps all his business 
 relations, and prospects, and undertakings, to himself, not only, 
 by keeping his wife a stranger to his business, loses a coun- 
 sellor whose natural keenness of wit would be sharpened by 
 personal interest in his success, a counsellor whose oneness of 
 aim with his would be unquestionable, because not only she 
 loves him well, but with him she must stand or fall, but he 
 risks having one in his own home ignoranily working against 
 him. If the wife is in darkness as to her husband's affairs, she 
 may, by a too cautious saving, cause his business prcsperitjr 
 and stability to be undervalued ; or by a too lavish expenditure,, 
 when he is in straits, she embarrasses him ; or, unconscious of 
 the pressure of his cares, she additionally burdens him with 
 3mall anxieties or duties which she. would, if better informed 
 assume herself The wife who concludes that the health, 
 morals, dispositions and doings of the fanfiily are no concern of 
 the husband and father, and so leaves him uninformed of what 
 is going on, deprives herself of aid, of the advice of one whose 
 out look is quite as wide and whose real interest is as deep as 
 
362 THE COMFLETE HOME. 
 
 her own, and suddenly the poor father is overwhelmed by some 
 physical or moral domestic catastrophe of which he was entirely 
 unwarned. People go on in families each in a divided and 
 separate way, heedless that what God has bound together in the 
 Home, man cannot really put asunder, try as he may; and 
 .suddenly in some great shock of disaster he experiences what 
 is thus described by a recent French writer: " Then this poor 
 wretch knew in all its wide extent the sentiment of family 
 responsibility, of that solidarity which causes esteem or reproach 
 to descend from father to son, or rise from child to parent." 
 
 Where children are allowed to understand and take an interest 
 in family affairs, where they feel that they have their partnership 
 in the household, then they will be early enlisted as helpers ; 
 their judgment will be strengthened and developed; a proper 
 reticence will be educated into them. It is children, who by 
 secrecy are constantly stimulated to pry into secrets, who become 
 tattlers; the child who is taken into honest confidence is not the 
 blatant gossip to publish home affairs, but is the staunch home 
 co-worker. I remember in that charming prose epic of the 
 French Telemaque, the young hero states that he learned to 
 keep his own counsel, and never betray another's confidence, by 
 having made known to him in his early childhood the cares and 
 embarrassments of his mother Penelope. By knowing the dangers 
 v/ith which his home was environed he became thoughtful, brave 
 and judicious. Parents excuse themselves from taking their 
 children as interested partners in home affairs on the plea that 
 they will betray confidence accidentally, or in the fervor of 
 friendship. Pleading this, they deprive their children of train 
 ing in trustworthiness, and drive them to fervid friendships with 
 strangers by refusing the children their own confidence. An- 
 other plea is that these affairs do not concern the child. This 
 we cannot see: the child in its physical and mental conditions 
 must be concerned by all that affects the prosperity of the family 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. £63 
 
 its shelter, dress, food, position, means of education, concern it 
 just as nearly as any one. Suppose the parents explain frankly 
 to their sons and daughters business entanglements which 
 distress them: at once their sympathies are enlisted in retrench' 
 ments ; they submit cheerfully to privations at which they might 
 grumble if they did not understand the needs be : the sons earlier 
 jee the value of developing their energies and improving their 
 opportunities that they may be their father's efficient helpers. 
 What young people, if told by their parents that while freely and 
 cheerfully accorded the means of education, yet those means 
 were obtained by a struggle, and must be made to bring their 
 best and speediest return, so that younger ones could have their 
 share of advantages, would not be by far more diligent and 
 zealous students ? Some people say that it is unkind to make 
 young folk sharers in anxieties and responsibilities ; but this may 
 be God's very way for training them for usefulness; if he sends 
 the cares and anxieties into the family, it probably is his way; 
 we deprive our children of what may be to them a fountain 
 of strength, a reservoir of power, a ladder to ultimate success. 
 The Scripture says. Blessed is the man who has borne the yoke 
 in his youth. 
 
 Another point to be considered in this community of interests 
 in a family is, that where knowledge of all business interests is 
 confined to one — say to the father of the family — he may sud- 
 denly die, and the wife and children be utterly at a loss to know 
 how their affairs stand, what they should do, or what plans are 
 half carried out for them to fulfil. If, on the contrary, the father 
 has instructed his wife and children as to his business and his 
 plans for the future, they, instead of being at the mercy of 
 strangers, perhaps of sharpers, can arrange for themselves on 
 the basis of a complete understandmg of their resources and 
 prospects; the sons are not helpless idlers, but understand ho^s 
 to carry out their father's views. 
 
364 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 So also if a mother has made her daughters her companions 
 arid true yoke-fellows in the household, they know her plans, 
 and her methods, and if she is laid aside by disease or taken 
 away by death, they know how to hold the helm and fulfil her 
 intentions. 
 
 The world is full of this dangerous division of interests in 
 the family. Men sedulously conceal their prospects or losses; 
 their wives go on in ways that once were safe, unconscious that 
 now these ways lie along the crumbling edge of ruin; all falls 
 m some terrible bankruptcy, and people cry : " Woman's extrav- 
 agance !" where they should cry: "Man's dangerous secrecy!" 
 God in the beginning proposed, as it was not meet for man to 
 be alone, to make a helpmeet for him. If men would only be 
 ready to make their wives helpmeets by confiding to them their 
 Dusiness, consulting them, expecting to work together with them 
 for private and public interests, then not only would fast living 
 be far less common, but the lives of women would be less 
 anxious, less frivolous and more useful, and commercial dis- 
 asters would be far less common. Two are better than one, 
 says the Scripture, but can two walk together unless they be 
 agreed? Who more likely to be Argus-eyed to business 
 dangers, who more likely to be resolute and courageous, than 
 the woman who knows not only her own comfort and happiness 
 to be at stake, but her husband's honor, and perhaps life, and 
 her children's future? 
 
 "Ah," said a great criminal recentlji, "all my affairs would 
 have gone on better, and this terrible denouement would never 
 have occurred, if I had told my wife and children all my en- 
 ianglements ; they v/ould have saved me from myself I could 
 not have become a criminal with their honest eyes fixed upon 
 tne. 
 
 I found lately this paragraph in a paper : 
 
 " It is very common to hear the remark made of a young man 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME.. 365 
 
 that he is so industrious and so economical that he is sure to be 
 thrifty and prosperous. And this may be very true of him so 
 long as he remains single. But what will his habitual prudence 
 avail him against the careless waste and extravagance of an 
 uncalculating, unthinking wife ? He might as well be doomed 
 to spend his strength and life in attempting to catch water in a 
 sieve. The effort would be hardly less certainly in vain. Habits 
 of economy, the ways to turn everything in the household affairs 
 to the best account — these are among the things which every 
 mother should teach her daughters. Without such instructions, 
 those who are poor will never become rich, while those who are 
 now rich may become poor." 
 
 Now this is all very true, but if during five or ten years the 
 young man desires his wife to maintain a certain style of living, 
 and then his income narrowing, does not explain matters to her, 
 and ask her to retrench, who is to blame for the too lavish 
 expenditure? Wives are as ready to save as husbands to gain, 
 if they only are allowed as clearly to understand a " needs be." 
 To my mind this concealment in domestic life is criminal. The 
 marriage partnership is as sacred as any partnership ; but what 
 kind of business fealty would it be, to take a partner, and con- 
 ceal from him a mass of bad debts, rsky speculations and dan- 
 gerous entanglements? "With all my worldly goods I thee 
 endow," says the groom, in the marriage-service. Now, if these 
 worldly goods are- at present nothing at all but a figure of 
 speech, and he and she so understand it, and bravely expect to 
 create the goods by their joint industry, well and good ; but it 
 is not well and good, when the worldly goods are expressed by 
 a series of debts of which the bride has been told nothing, while 
 she must feel their burden. Unhappy the new-made house- 
 hold which starts having, as' the French say, " its debts for its 
 savings." 
 
 Probably no right-minded woman ever without indignation 
 24 
 
366 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 read in " Stepping Heavenward " the atrocious conduct of the 
 Doctor, who amiably introduces into his family two perpetual 
 inmates, without ever consulting his wife ; assumes debts for 
 her to help carry ; and when she has staggered on year after 
 year, burdened thereby, forgets to tell her that they are paid 
 until six months after the happy event! One would say that 
 such a man was very far from the divine idea of the hom.e, 
 and making very poor progress in the Heavenward Way. Sup- 
 pose a wife had thus invited guests, assumed debts, and forgot- 
 ten to state when the scrimping and toihng to carry the burden 
 might end ? But is not this a partnership of equal interests ? 
 Shall not these two stand or fall together? Is not the loss or 
 prosperity of one the loss or prosperity of both ? 
 
 But I am far from thinking that these selfish deceits and with- 
 holdings are all on the masculine side of the question. I once 
 knew a young man who was engaged to a girl who had ten 
 thousand dollars. She, in apparently the frankest manner, 
 agreed that he should make arrangements to invest this in a 
 particular way for their mutual advantage, and as soon as they 
 were married the money was to be forthcoming. The trustful 
 ■youth accordingly entered into business engagements which he 
 .could not cancel. The marriage over, the bride's uncle paid her 
 ;the ten thousand : but before one penny of it could be used as 
 ^proposed, seven thousand dollars were called for to pay the lady's 
 debts — debts of foolish extravagance, for lace, jewelry, flowers, 
 "Confections, mantua-makers and similar demands ; thus the poor 
 ■husband, miserably entangled by his business arrangements 
 struggled in debt for ten years, until his health was nearly 
 ■ ruined, and his youth was quite lost. I remember that a year 
 or two ago, Miriam and I spent a week in the city at the board- 
 ing-house of an old acquaintance. Entering her room one 
 .day, and seeing a large number of parcels on the bed, Miriam 
 •said : 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. 367 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Graham, you have been out shopping?" 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Graham, " those belong to Mrs. Lester, 
 •fhey are to lie here until Mr. Lester has gone out ; you know 
 ladies do not always care to have their husbands know every 
 little thing that they may purchase." 
 
 Miriam looked confounded ; a flush of indignation rose over 
 her face. " No," she said, clearly, " I do not know any such 
 thing! I am sure I should not stoop to conceal anything 
 which I bought or did; and if I thought my husband would 
 in the least question the propriety of a purchase, I would not 
 make it." , 
 
 " Oh, well," said our hostess, a little embarrassed, " you and 
 Mr. Rogers are different from the most of people." 
 
 " Indeed, I hope not in this particular," said Miriam. 
 
 It is true that I have not myself had the experience of 
 married life, but I have studied married life closely in many 
 homes, and I think I have good grounds for certain opinions 
 which I have formed concerning it. The reference just made to 
 a popular book, and to the Doctor bringing home two perrnanent 
 members for the family, calls to m.y mind one point where unity 
 in homes is often disastrously lacking : I mean in reference to 
 relations by marriage. Why are certain women another woman's 
 natural enemies, merely because the words " in-law " are added 
 to the terms sister and mother? I have heard enough of the 
 remark that one marries a man or a woman, but not their family. 
 Now marriage is not an example in subtraction but in addition. 
 It is not to destroy past ties and natural affections, but to add 
 Tew ties and new affections. That a man takes a wife is not a 
 reason for dissevering 'him from the sister who is of his own 
 blood, who was his childhood's companion, pet or mentor. 
 Marriage is not a Lethe in which are to be lost the memory of 
 childhood, gratitude for past favors, and the fifth commandment 
 True, the Bible does say that a man is to leave father and 
 
368 THE COMPLETE HOME.^ 
 
 mother and cleave to his wife, though in this age it is usually 
 the wife who is required to do the leaving, often not seeing hei 
 early home and friends for a decade. The husband and wife are 
 declared to be one flesh ; but the making of the new tie does 
 not sunder the old : it is not that, loving one more, we are to 
 ] jv; others less. The very fact that husband and wife become 
 oni flesh should serve to draw them in tender and forbearing 
 unity to the close kin of the one to whom they are so near. 
 We must learn to put ourselves in other people's places. As 
 we measure to others shall inevitably be measured to us. Time 
 is a singularly exact avenger — the trup avenger of blood, ever 
 with fleet foot and uplifted arm following the evil-doer with hi.s 
 exactions, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, life for life. Think then, 
 mother, so jealous, so easily offended, so hardly to be won by 
 your mother-in-law, this babe on your knee shall take a wife, and 
 how would yoii like to be viewed as a mother-in-law ? Would 
 you have your cares, your toils, your long devotion ignored ? 
 We have no right to expect the families into which we marry to 
 be so much better than our own that they have no faults. The 
 days are gone by when the sons of God wedded with the daugh- 
 ters of men. Doubtless there will be more points of difference 
 between us and them than between us and our own families ; but 
 to be unlike ourselves is not necessarily a crime. I think there 
 is less common-sense showed about relatives by marriage than 
 about any other subject. A mother-in-law is astounded at 
 seeing imperfections in her son's wife. Pray, are her own 
 daughters perfect, or is her son an angel ? If not, the new 
 daughter would be poorly placed among them if she were 
 perfect ; and — there is nothing more efficacious in curing imper- 
 fections — than good example ! The sisters must not be jealous 
 because their brother holds his bride dearer than themselves, 
 for they expect when they marry to love husband better than 
 brother ; nor must the wife desire her husband to love his sisters 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. 339 
 
 less than before, for when her own toddling boy and girl are 
 grown, will she desire the love-bands between them to be rudely 
 broken? Why must a young man be instructed that his 
 mother-in-law is his natural enemy ? If she loves his wife, and 
 is solicitous for her welfare, she loves and guards what is his 
 dearest treasure, and thus has a claim to his gratitude, as in that 
 wife's well-being is freighted the happiness of his home. If 
 there are some of her ways which are not pleasing to him, very 
 likely that account is squared without any effort of his own by 
 some of his ways being unpleasant to her. Has she not loved 
 and nourished the being dearest to him ? If the daughter is 
 charming, does she not probably owe it to her mother ? Must 
 not that be a praiseworthy woman who has raised up for him so 
 good a wife? If he is a true husband, does he not owe his wife's 
 filial love some sympathy ? Why must a wife's mother and a 
 husband's mother be foes ? Are not their interests centred in 
 one household ? Has not each made a sacrifice for the other's 
 child ? Will there not be a line of grandchildren in whom they 
 will be mutually interested? 
 
 I have seen households where the mother was carping at the 
 father's relatives and the father was condemning the mother's 
 kindred, stirring up in the breasts of the children distrust and 
 hatred of those who were equally their kin ; forgetting that these 
 to whom they made the children hostile were those whom God 
 had bound to them by blood ; that their strife would introduce 
 an element of lovelessness into their own homes ; that they were 
 weakening the bonds that tied their own children each to each. 
 I never yet knew a case where, by coldness, quarrelling, censo- 
 riousness, the parents lessened their children's love for relatives 
 on either or both sides of the house, that the evil did not 
 rebound by having the children grow up loveless between them- 
 selves, jealous, captious, assigning evil intentions to trifling acts, 
 and ending by drifting widely apart. The old Arab proverb 
 
S70 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 says, " Curses, like chickens, go home to roost," and the cursa 
 of family dissensions never fails to get home to roost. Parents 
 should think of this when they are carping at every little oddity 
 and folly in their relations by marriage, so their children will 
 carp at and vex each other. Suppose, my good young woman,' 
 that your mother-in-law finds some fault with your style of doing 
 things. Perhaps you are to blame in having withdrawn confi- 
 dence from her, and riot explained why you did thus ; or, as she 
 has twice as long experience as you, possibly her way is better 
 than yours, so you will do well to try it ; or, granted that she is 
 fretful and exacting, behold the root of the same in her passion- 
 ate mother-loving of your husband. Did you forget that the tie 
 between him and her is just as close as between you and the 
 babe you are nursing at your breast, and even stronger, because 
 it has bad years in which it was annealed in love and care and 
 service? You, busy young head of a family, are angry, because 
 your wife's mother criticised your business or family doings? 
 What impelled her, but desire for your family prosperity and 
 happiness, and the future fortune of your children? 
 
 It is dangerous and disadvantageous, people say, for families 
 to live together : let each household be alone. Doubtless the 
 rule is good, but Providence sometimes interferes with it. It 
 would be well if every man could provide for his own, and if all 
 ate the bread which they earned ; but many cannot do this, and 
 tht poor we have always with us, and by this alteration of the 
 normal order of earning and providing, we may exercise the 
 grace of Christian charity. Thus, when it is needful in God's 
 providential arrangings for us, that families should live together 
 —that the part of one family should find refuge in another — this 
 may be a means of developing new graces in ourselves and 
 our children. Therefore, people should not complain, and look 
 on it as a great evil, that aged, poor, infirm or homeless relatives 
 must be received into their families ; but rather feel thankful 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. 37 J 
 
 that they may repay past debts of love and tenderness. The 
 Apostle John doubtless received into his house, as a great 
 blessing and favor, the mother of our Lord; and Christ himself 
 just as surely sends now his servants as inmates of other homes, 
 as then he sent Mary to John. What should be more grateful 
 to the feelings of every true heart than to be able to establish 
 in one's home, and wait upon with affection and respect, an 
 aged parent? What finer opportunity could offer of teaching 
 to children filial piety, respect for the aged, self-control and 
 unselfishness, besides laying up a store of regard and attention 
 to be enjoyed in our own old age, for as we sow we shall reap. 
 I remember a very pretty fragment on this subject which runs 
 thus: 
 
 " Our mother, who now lies in death before us, was a stranger 
 to me, as are all of these her descendants. All I know of her 
 is what her son has told me to-day : that she was brought to this 
 town from afar, sixty-nine years ago, a happy bride; that here she 
 has passed most of her life, toiling, as only mothers ever have 
 strength to toil, until she has reared a large family of sons and 
 daughters; that she left her home here, clad in the weeds of 
 widowhood, to dwell among her children, till health and strength 
 left her. God forbid that conscience should accuse any of you 
 of ingratitude or murmuring on account of the care she has been 
 to you of late. When you go back to your homes, be careful 
 of your example before your own children; for the fruit of your 
 own doing you will surely reap from them when you yourselves 
 totter on the brink of the grave. I entreat you as a friend, as 
 one who has himself entered the evening of life, that you may 
 never say in the presence of your families nor of heaven: 'Our 
 mother has outlived her usefulness; she was a burden to us.' 
 Never, never ! A mother can never live so long as that ! No ; 
 when she can no longer labor for her children, nor yet care for 
 herself, she can fall like a precious weight on their bosoms, and 
 
372 TBE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 call forth by her helplessness all the noble, generous feelings o1 
 their hearts." 
 
 There are no more beautiful and more richly repaying les- 
 sons to be taught our children than those contained in the 
 Scripture : to rise up before the aged, and to honor the face of 
 old men, and to see in the hoary head a crown of glory. Lif. 
 with all its burdens and its bitterness lies behind the old, and 
 vve should make their age a time of peace. There is but a 
 short space left them wherein we can show gratitude, tender- 
 ness, and that sympathy for infirmity which becomes all of us 
 v.'ho are moving on toward like age and infirmity. 
 
 Mrs. Winton's aged and paralyzed mother lived with her for 
 several years — indeed, until her death. Being quite helpless 
 Mrs. Winton fed her. One day while she was thus giving her 
 her dmner I was there, and being a little tired and nervous, Mrs, 
 Winton spilled some of tne beef-tea. I said to her, with a 
 smile : How much more skilfully she fed you when you wers 
 little ! " Mrs. Winton has since told me that those words never 
 left her; that during wakeful nights, and days of ceaseless 
 watching, during the feeding, bathing and dressing needful, 
 came to her the constant thought, " How skilfully and tenderly 
 she did this for you when you were little!" She prized and 
 taught her children to prize this opportunity of ministering, not 
 only to a revered and beloved parent, but to a saint of God on 
 the verge of paradise. 
 
 I have often heard people speak as if where there was a 
 mingling of households, and of diverse elements in a family, 
 there must be discord and jarring. This is a dangerous feeling, 
 for where we expect discord we are likely to have discord. 1 
 was myself a member of a large family. My mother, a 
 widow with children, married a widower with children ; children 
 were also born to this second marriage; my mother's mothei 
 and my step-->father's sister also belonged to the family circle ; but 
 
THE UNITV OF THE HOME. 373 
 
 in all this large assemblage of different elements there was no 
 discord nor jarring. We were taught to seek for the virtues 
 and not the failings of those about us; to be grateful for favors, 
 and ready to grant them; to put ourselves in other people's 
 places; to respect other people's rights; to feel honored by 
 opportunities of waiting on the old and helpless. I am sure I 
 hardly knew whether the full brothers and sisters, or the half 
 sisters, or those who were such only in name, had the higher 
 share in my regard; and this experience has shown me that 
 family unity can be attained anywhere and in any circum- 
 stances, if people will only unselfishly resolve to have it. 
 
 A dear friend of mine, when almost in middle life, married a 
 widower with a family of half-grown children, with whom the 
 first wife's mother was living. The family not only recognized 
 thc'ii' father's right to choose a wife for himself, but were 
 rejoicod that his happiness was to be added to in the choice of 
 a lady, in age, education, position and piety, so well fitted tc 
 grace his home. The wedding over, the children with simple 
 sincerity welcomed the bride to a mother's place in their hearts 
 and home, and the aged grandmother folded her in her arms 
 as a true daughter. The record of the years of this family life 
 was thus told by the second mother : " No own children could 
 ever have been dearer or more loving to a parent than these 
 were to me, and it was a true blessing from heaven to live in 
 the house with that dear old lady. It seemed when she died 
 that I could not live without her.'' 
 
 From such instances we see that unity does not rise from 
 nearness of relationship, nor from smallness of families, but from 
 d right direction of the heart. As quarrelsome families as I 
 ever saw were small families, where none but parents and one 
 set of children lived. If parents show partiality among theii 
 children — if they always give up to the one who makes the 
 loudest noise or tells the most angry tales — if they do not cul- 
 
374 THE COMPLETE HOMh. 
 
 tivate strict justice and loving-kindness am//'/^ their children— 
 if the mother is always showing up the fiults of the father's 
 relations, and the father devotes himself to complaining of the 
 mother's relatives, while the kindred on both sides strive to 
 make the children their partisans, no matter how small the 
 family may be, it will be large enough for disunion; as says the 
 Scripture, they will be divided two against three, and three 
 against two. 
 
 I think the three classes of relations most abused have been 
 mothers-in-law, maiden aunts and step-mothers. If all maiden 
 aunts fared as well as I have, they would have very little of 
 which to complain, for I have yet to receive an unpleasant act, 
 word or look from my large family of relations. Often because 
 a person is a maiden aunt she is therefore supposed to be. a 
 legitimate subject of sneers or censure, whereas her position 
 ought to make her a public benefactor. If she bestows advice, 
 she is old-fashioned, too particular and censorious. If she gives 
 no advice, but drifts with the present current of affairs, then she 
 is foolish, giddy, trying to be girlish. Whittier describes the 
 maiden aunt as she might and should be anywhere, and as I 
 have no doubt she always would be if properly received : 
 
 " Who lonely, homeless, none the less 
 Found peace in love's unselfishness. 
 And welcomed whcresoe'er she went. 
 A calm and gracious element, 
 Whose presence seemed the sweet income 
 And womanly atmosphere of home." 
 
 However, maiden aunts are generally independent. If they 
 have no private means they are -able to take care of themselves, 
 and, if needful, they can make their own place in the world 
 With the step-mother it is different; once married, she must 
 abide in the state wherein she tinds herself, even though a 
 meddle.some neighborhood excite against her the children's 
 hearts which she desires to win, and though relatives on botl- 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. 375 
 
 sides of the house league against her, as if in virtue of her 
 arduous position she were the common enemy. Probably, 
 there are very foolish, weak, harsh or indifferent step-mothers, 
 because there are foolish, weak, harsh and indifferent own 
 mothers. If there is a selfish or silly streak in the nature, -it is 
 likely to come out either in the own mother or the step-mother, 
 but not as I can see more in one than in the other. The own 
 mother may feel more passion of love, the step-mother m.ore 
 the grave bonds of duty, but whether the spring is the one 
 emotion or the other, the result is an honest seeking of the 
 best good of the family. 
 
 It is taken as a popular statement of fact, usually given in a 
 martyr-like tone, " Well, you know, there is a great difference 
 between own mothers and step-mothers." Yes, I do know that 
 there is, and sometimes the difference is in favor of the step- 
 mother. I have seen a good many step-mothers, and I never 
 yet saw one who was not doing the very best that was possible 
 for her husband and his family. The person of all that I knew 
 who talked the loudest against step-mothers, and the miseries 
 which she had suffered from one, when pressed to the point, 
 could lay no fault to the unhappy woman's charge, except that 
 she had married her father. I said to her: "Well, if that was a 
 crime, your own mother was guilty of the same. To hear you 
 arraign step-mothers one would think you had been cruelly used, 
 but that is impossible, since you were eighteen years old and 
 largely and powerfully made, before you had any step-mother. 
 I fancy, if one heard her side of the story, we should learn 
 something of the painful prejudice which exists in the minds 
 of step-daughters." How absurd this family quarrelling is! 
 How cruel to greet a woman's entrance to a new home with a 
 bitter feeling, and acting as if her position were usurped and her 
 nuptials only Jialf legal ! 
 
 A cousin of mine, a good girl too, was deeply aggrieved that 
 
376 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Iier father took a second wife — a lady suitable to him in every 
 way. I said to her : " Rhoda, you expected to be married, youi 
 brother is in California, your father is of a long-lived race : why 
 ■■hould the poor man face his age alone?" 
 
 Rhoda could give no suitable reason for her pique, but she 
 ■would speak of the new wife as " my father's companion," until, 
 my patience was exhausted, and I spoke out : " If you don't 
 choose to say ' mother,' no one will complain, though in declin- 
 ing the word you lack a very attractive grace ; but I am quite 
 tired of ' my father's companion', as if she were a hired servant, 
 or living in illegal bonds. She is your father's wife as much 
 as your own mother was, and you insult all three, father, mother, 
 and step-mother, by this ridiculous phrase." 
 
 Rhoda did not use the objectionable term any more, but she 
 gradually stopped corresponding with me. I suppose she did 
 not like my speaking my thoughts so clearly, but it is a great 
 comfort frankly to free one's mind. 
 
 How often have I seen step-mothers who were the very mak- 
 ing of their families, bringing the children morally, mentally and 
 socially to something better than had ever been expected for 
 them. And this is heroic, when we consider against what 
 difficulties and prejudices they have often to struggle. The 
 restrictions and reproofs which would be cited as a mark of an 
 own mother's judiciousness are called tyranny in a step-mother. 
 
 I visited once the children of an early friend and schoolmate. 
 This lady, dying suddenly, left a large family, which at the end 
 of a year passed into the hands of a step-mother. Some six or 
 eight years after this marriage I visited the family. The excel- 
 lent judgment, principle and management of this second mother 
 left nothing to be desired. Her life had been one of devotion 
 to her step-children, which found itself well repaid in their 
 remarkable advancement in life. And yet, surrounded by 
 friends, luxuries and gratifications purchased by the step- 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. 377 
 
 ■ nother's money and abilities, one of the daughters said to me, 
 '.v'ith a sigh: "And yet, of course, there is so much to put up 
 with, for you know a step-mother is different from an owl 
 mother." 
 
 "Yes," I repHed, "and sometimes the difference is in the 
 feivcr of the step-mother. Your own mother was a charming 
 person, of high family and much genius. However, she married 
 far too young — before her education was completed, and she was 
 always a martyr to ill health. Her inexperience and feebleness 
 of constitution, together with an unusually yielding disposition, 
 rendered her quite unable to exercise that decision, that activity 
 and ability which your father's business entanglements and 
 large family demanded. She could not have done for this family 
 what her successor has done. I know that your step-mother's 
 achievements for you have surpassed your own mother's best 
 dreams, and that she herself would have asked nothing better 
 than to see you in the hands of such a wise, kind and capable 
 guardian." 
 
 I wish the public would come to see that this prejudice 
 against step-mothers is weak, foolish and unfounded, unworthy 
 of an age of Christian common-sense. People should stand or 
 fall, be condemned or praised, on their own proved merits or 
 demerits, not upon the strength of a name. 
 
 I have talked a great deal with my nieces on the need of 
 Unity in the Home. Disunion in families is a sort of lineal 
 inheritance; it runs down from gt..eration to generation, like 
 the chin of the house of Hapsburg. We should try to make 
 our homes calm and united, that Unity may bless the homes 
 of our descendants to the third and fourth generation. How 
 shall this Unity be encouraged ? By example ; by precept; by 
 practice. Children should see that their parents show this 
 lovingness and forbearance to each other, and to their relatives, 
 in very virtue of the tie of relationship. They should be taught 
 
373 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 that the tie of brother or sister gives a claim upon their patiencs, 
 and kindpess, and not liberty to be captious and exacting. Verj' 
 small children can be taught to be tender and loving in their 
 ways to each other, and to recognize the claim of little brother 
 or sister. Children should not be allowed to quarrel, to strike, 
 or tattle. Very little children often show their fallen disposi 
 tions, ;^nd will tell tales, or even make up tales to get anothei 
 child into trouble. People sometimes think a child will have 
 sense to defend itself from a false accusation, but this is not 
 always the case; some children think slowly, are easily alarmed, 
 and have a certain reticence in rebutting charges, so that often 
 the loudest and seemingly most innocent complainant is the real 
 culprit in a household. It is dangerous for parents to be taking 
 sides between their children, for thus doing they leave thorns 
 of injustice to rankle, and thus weaken the bonds of love. The 
 danger of allowing children to go on quarrelling, and squabble 
 out their difficulties, is still greater: for the longer that they 
 quarrel the frailer become the love ties between them. The best 
 way is to condemn the quarrel as a thing evil in itself; to exalt 
 the beauty of self-sacrifice and forgiveness, and to change the 
 current of the combatants' thoughts and feelings by some new 
 occupation or some pleasure. 
 
 I was at Miriam's once when her three children seemed in a 
 very uncomfortable frame of mind, and in a loud dispute and 
 accusation ran to their mother. 
 
 "Dear me," said Miriam, "you all seem to be right, and all 
 to be wrong, and you certainly are very hot and tired, and have 
 played too long. Run, put away your hats and wash your faces, 
 and come and see what a nice thing I have for each of you." 
 
 In their wonder over the " nice thing " the squabble ended. 
 they returned in peace, and Miriam gave Dora three fine sugar- 
 plums to distribute. These eaten amicably, she said : " Now 
 you must go to work ; " and set Dora to hemming a towel, Bob 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. 379 
 
 to ripping an old waist, and little Harold to cleaning up the shoe 
 closet. We heard no more of the fray which, in charges of 
 " names," " stories," " faces " and " blows," had seemed likely to 
 be a serious affair. 
 
 " So, " I said, laughing, to Miriam, " they get candy for quar- 
 relling!" 
 
 " .(Anything is better than a long quarrel, temptation to false 
 statements, and probable injustice in settlement. They seldom 
 quarrel, for it always stops the play for the time being, though I 
 try to stop it as agreeably as possible." 
 
 Cousin Ann has always been particular to foster affection in 
 her family. She was talking to me of this lately, and she said : 
 "There is nothing which more promotes unity in the family 
 than the keeping of little family festivals. I always kept all the 
 birthdays. We looked forward to the birthday keeping. The 
 children prepared their little gifts; I made the birthday cake, 
 which the hero of the occasion cut and distributed. Sometimes 
 we kept the festival at home, sometimes we went on a picnic or 
 a trip to town. The one whose birthday it was chose, and the 
 choice must be for a treat in which all the family could share. 
 We sometimes invited strangers, and sometimes kept the festival 
 by ourselves, for I did not-wish my children to feel that they 
 could not be happy within the circle of their own family. But 
 we recognized the social instinct as a part of our nature con- 
 ferred by God for wise ends, and we did not cry out against a 
 desire for other companions and friends than those of our own 
 fireside as if it were a crime. Now that my three elder children 
 are married and away from home, we keep their birthdays still 
 as a family-gathering, and they come home with their house- 
 holds; as they are settled near me. If they were far away I 
 should send them gifts and greetings, for I never want the ties 
 between us to weaken so long as we all shall live. As we kept 
 the children's birthdays, so Reuben's and mine were kept ; and 
 
580 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 every such occasion, with its good-will, good wishes and little 
 offerings, served to draw us closer to each other. We also 
 kept the yearly holidays together, in a way to please all. Christ- 
 mas was looked forward to. The children saved their money, 
 and taxed their inventive powers, and their industry, in the 
 preparation of gifts. We often gave them presents — as a set of 
 books, a game or a puzzle — which belonged to all, so that 
 common rights and common property should exercise their 
 honesty and self-sacrifice. Thanksgiving was another festival 
 especially a Home festival, when we thanked God for gracious- 
 ness to us as a household, for blessings on household labors, and 
 for increasing our common store. We taught our children to 
 have an interest in each other's preferences, and if they had 
 rivalries that they should be generous ones, and without 
 jealousy. If one child enjoyed flowers and gardening, all were 
 interested in procuring seeds, bulbs, roots, or new information 
 in horticulture. Where another was fond of fowls or stock, all 
 were alert to hear of or obtain fresh varieties. Thus the very 
 diversities of tastes in the family were incentives to kind acts 
 and bonds of new affection. I have heard people say that their 
 children were so unlike in tastes and dispositions, that the}' 
 could not expect them to be companionable to each other; but 1 
 found that, ruled by love, these differences of taste and opinion 
 only increased their mutual happiness in each other, giving 
 \ freshness to their intercourse, and a breadth to their thoughts." 
 " Yes," said Hester, who was sitting with us ; " Jean Ingelow 
 has put that thought into very beautiful verse, thus : 
 
 " 'As heaven's high twins, whereof in Tyrian blue, 
 The one revolveth : through his course immense 
 Might love his brother of the damask hue. 
 For like and difference, 
 
 " ' For different pathways evermore decreed, 
 To intersect, but not to interfere ; 
 For common goal, two aspects and one spcei. 
 One centre, and one yesir ; 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. SgJ 
 
 " ' For deep affinities, for drawings strong, 
 
 That by iheir nature each must needs exert ; 
 For loved alliance, and for union long 
 That stands before desert.' " 
 
 " I remember that," said Cousin Ann ; " it is very beautiful, 
 I think in that same poem is the Hne : ' For human love makes 
 aliens near of kin.' If human love can do that for aliens, what 
 can it not do for those of our own blood ? The ties of blood 
 are, we say, of nature ; but use and cultivation must make 
 them strong, or they shall drop asunder like burned tow. It 
 rests with parents to make their children true yoke-fellows and 
 friends, staunch to each other's interests, dearest friends and best 
 helpers in adversity ; or whether, in youth left to slip farther and 
 farther apart, knowing no mutual interests, sympathies, affections, 
 they shall in time drift from the home, like dead leaves from 
 the tree in Autumn, never to know or care more for each other. 
 Ho'v much better the home where each child indissolubly held 
 in loving affiliation shall, like the shoots of the banyan, but 
 reach out to take fresh root, and growing each in its place, 
 increase the strength and stately beauty of the whole." 
 
 " The Scripture tells us," I said, " that a brother is born for 
 adversity, but many parents seem to forget that these family 
 relationships were provided by God to be comfort, defence and 
 strength to us in all the days of our lives, and fail in childhood 
 to weld the bonds of kin." 
 
 "Some parents of my acquaintance," said Cousin Ann, "think 
 that I am very hard on them in holding them responsible for 
 the characters of their children, and for all that occurs in their 
 families ; still, I do hold that if there is evil in the house, the 
 springs of it will be found in some evil of commission or omis- 
 sion in the parents. The parental error may have its excuse? 
 and its ameliorations in the fact that their parents before them 
 erred, and failed to instil right views and set a right example ; 
 wrong descends from generation to generation, and we cannol 
 25 
 
382 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 too clearly impress on parents' minds the sense of their respon- 
 sibility. I have noticed that where there has been in one gen- 
 eration excessive severity, in the next there is likely to be 
 lawlessness, and likewise the rebound from lawlessness is sever- 
 ity. In this matter of lack of unity and home affections, the 
 evil seems not to rebound into sentimentality, or passionate 
 ioving, but coldly to run on from generation to generation in 
 its own kind. Some families are remarkable for their strong 
 affections; others for their indifference to their kindred. Parents 
 should feel that lovingness, like other good growths, needs to be 
 cultivated, and it is their duty to take every measure to make it 
 thrive in the garden of their children's hearts. Visits between 
 different members of the family should be exchanged ; presents 
 should be sent ; no matter how busy the life is, correspondence 
 should be kept up. Some husbands ignore the fact that, when a 
 right-minded woman marries, she does not forget her own kin- 
 dred and her father's house, but retains love for her parents, 
 brothers and sisters, and this love should be respected ; at what- 
 ever sacrifice, intercourse should be maintained; years should not 
 be allowed to pass when the wife sees no face that surrounded 
 her childhood. So, on the other hand, the wife should delight 
 to invite to her home her husband's parents and brothers and 
 sisters, making them the friends of her children and cementing 
 the natural bonds of the family. It is a grand misfortune when, 
 by uncontrollable circumstances, an individual or a family are 
 forced to dwell alone, isolated, as some tropic palm transplanted 
 to a foreign climate. Think how time and distance were unable 
 to sever the strong ties between pilgrim Abraham and his father's 
 house ; and after seventy years of absence he sends back to his 
 native land to secure a wife for his son, confident that his kin- 
 dred there have not lost their loving interest in him, and will 
 not say him nay." 
 Among the other means which Cousin Ann takes to establish 
 
THE UNITY OF THE HOME. 383 
 
 the unity of her family is that of keeping the wedding days. 
 Her children inherit the custom, and each of them celebrates 
 their own marriage anniversary in his own house, and they all 
 go back to the homestead to commemorate the beginning of 
 their family life, in the marriage of Cousin Reuben and Ann 
 Generally other relations beyond the" immediate family are in^ 
 vited, sometimes more, and sometimes less. There was a large 
 gathering on the thirtieth anniversary, and all of the immediate 
 relatives were present, as well as especial friends from the neigh- 
 borhood, the daughters-in-law's families, the minister ^nd his 
 family, and relations of Cousin Reuben from a distance. That 
 farm-house seems elastic in its power of accommodating people. 
 The children who are at home had improvised rooms for them- 
 selves in the attic; the servants took possession of the rooms 
 which in July and August belong to the pensioners from the 
 city; the whole house was in festal attire. Sara had been at 
 home for several days helping in the preparations, and Martha 
 had been there with me, also lending her aid. 
 
 It was in June ; the farm was in such order, and showing such 
 a splendid prospect of crops, that one might have supposed it 
 especially prepared to contend for a county prize; that the 
 beautiful acres which framed it on either side belonged to the 
 two elder sons, did not make the prospect less pleasing; the 
 large, comfortable, unostentatious farm-house, draped in vines, 
 surrounded with fine gardens, blooming shrubbery and fragrant 
 grape-arbors, appeared to have a vitality of its own, and to be 
 able to rejoice in the joy of this large family, which had grown 
 up in its shelter, and returned there constantly to give token of 
 their love and happiness. The six little grandchildren frolicked 
 around, so evidently to the admiration of the grandparents, that 
 I asked Cousin Ann, in all seriousness, which was more satis- 
 factory, the child, or the grandchild ? and she replied that she 
 " could not tell : both had their advantages." 
 
384 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Friendship, frankness, generosity everywhere abounded. At 
 sunset many of the young people were in the parlor singing, 
 while Sara played; the children, in perfect concord, enjoyed 
 a game; along the garden walks paced white-haired Cousin 
 Reuben and his whiter-haired elder brother arm-in-arm. Cousi,: 
 Ann, her sister-in-law, and three nieces were conversing on th< 
 front piazza; the minister was sitting by me in one of the arbors, 
 and glancing, well pleased, on the whole picture, he exclaimed: 
 " Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell 
 together in unity; like the dew of Hermon, and the dew which 
 descended on the mountains of Zion, for there the Lord com. 
 CTianded his blessing, even life forever more" 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 
 
 AUNT SOPHRONIA TELLS HOW TO CONDUCT DOMESTIC EXPrS- 
 
 DITURES. 
 
 pa WAS quite amused lately by an argument which I heard 
 ^ between two of Mr. Carr's boys. They were sitting 
 close by my fence, where a large willow casts its shade 
 on the side-walk. The subject of their discussion was 
 money. One of the boys said it was the root of all evil — ^that hi? 
 Sunday-school lesson had givjn it that bad pre-eminence; he 
 also supported this position by facts, as that money caused 
 quarrelling, and bought whiskey. The other boy maintained 
 that money was a good ; that it bought us all the nice things 
 which we had ; that people were more respected for possessing 
 it; that nations who had money were civilized, and had all 
 manner of improvements, and only barbarians did not possess it 
 About at this stage of the argument they decided to lay the 
 case before some, umpire, and looking up they saw me. Ac- 
 cordingly they came near my window, and the elder boy said 
 that the " big fellows " in his school had a society, and were 
 about to debate the question whether money or woman had had 
 the greater influence over men ; he and his brother on hearing 
 the question had found that they differed greatly as to the 
 merits of money. 
 
 " I think," I said, " that you have, both of you, right views, 
 but they are not clearly before your minds. You say, Joe, 
 that youj lesson declares money to be the root of all evil 
 
 (SSd) 
 
386 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 There you mistake : it says the Ime of money is the root of all 
 evil. Money is not to be prized as an end, but as a means : it 
 is not valuable for what it is, but for what it will procure. We 
 have no right to love money in itself Misers love money; they 
 hoard it; it does them nq good; they prevent, in their hoarding, 
 the good which it might do in circulation; money is not to them 
 a means of doing or getting good, but it is the end of their 
 desires. We may also love money unlawfully as a means, when 
 the end which we desire to obtain by it will be selfish or wrong. 
 If we crave it to surround ourselves with luxuries, refusing hos- 
 pitality, charily and help to others, then we love money or its 
 equivalent, and it is a root of evil to us. The love of money is 
 the root of all evil, because it tempts men to break all the Com- 
 mandments : they worship money instead of God, and so break 
 the first and second Commandments; for money, men have 
 sworn falsely; have perjured themselves, and so have used in 
 vain God's holy name. To increase their property, men labor 
 on the Sabbath; for love of money, people have refused to help 
 their old or sick parents, to give fair wages to workers, to aid 
 the poor, and to bestow charities; and in these ways have 
 broken the fifth Commandment. You boys have doubtless 
 read and heard of plenty of instances where people have stolen, 
 lied, murdered, coveted, for love of money, and the love of 
 money has caused them thus to break those" two great Com- 
 mandments — to love God and our neighbor — which Christ said 
 included all the law and the prophets. Thus you understand 
 that the love of money is the root of all evil. Therefore, we 
 must not love money, but the good which we may do with it. 
 
 "On the other hand, Samuel, you are right in claiming that 
 money is needful and useful, and that by it immense good is 
 accomplished. Great geniuses have invented, but moneyed men 
 have put the inventions into practical, active use. Money has 
 printed our books, established hospitals, endowed colleges, 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 337 
 
 turned swamps into grand cities, deserts into farms, forest-wilds 
 into valuable town-lots. Money has sent out missionaries, has 
 multiplied Bibles, has encouraged discoveries and inventions; 
 it is a bond between nations, produces commerce, maintains 
 railroads, pushes on the world in all its civilizations and 
 advancements. The Bible bids us be diligent in business; says 
 if ^ man will not work, he shall not eat; promises wealth as a 
 reward of honest toil ; so money honestly earned, used for good 
 objects, not engrossing our souls from good things, but used to 
 promote good, is a good thing to have, and we should receive 
 it as a gift of God. So you see the good or the evil lies not in 
 the money itself, which is merely a bit of metal fixed upon as a 
 medium of exchange, but the good or evil lies in our own 
 hearts, in our method of using or abusing it." 
 
 Now, when the boys had run off, I sat thinking about this 
 question of money and its influence. What a power it is in the 
 world ! If in the world at large, then in the home, which is the 
 world in niniature, and the root of public and national life. 
 How do people in their homes regard money? What is the 
 manner of its Use? what the fashion of its Abuse? I said to 
 myself, money lies behind all our bread, our clothes, our shelter, 
 our education — every man gets it and spends it; at some 
 point all his toil means money; at some point all his relaxation 
 reduces itself to money. I will this very day get out my jour- 
 nals, wherein I have noted for so many years all that I have 
 seen and thought of Homes, and I will see how money is 
 making or marring in domestic life. 
 
 Every year money becomes a larger and larger factor in the 
 problems of human existence. It was once the fashion to 
 express a lofty disdain of money, to condemn its importance ; 
 but this disdain exists only in theory. It is idle to quarrel with 
 {acts, and our contempt of wealth does not extend beyond the 
 hour when we can get it in possession. While very lofty virtues 
 
388 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 have flourished in the midst of destitution, we must not con< 
 sider that they are the legitimate products of destitution, but 
 have thriven in spite of it, and shone all the more splendidly 
 from the unfriendly nature of their surroundings. The pos- 
 session of money not only opens to a man many new avenues of 
 doing good, but it closes upon him the door of many tempta- 
 tions. If we examine even those errors to which money is 
 supposed to render a man especially liable, we shall find that 
 they consort equally with a desperate poverty. In proportion 
 to their numbers, there are more debauched beggars than mil- 
 lionnaires, more criminals among the very poor than among the 
 very rich. Extravagance, the living beyond one's means, and 
 lightly dissipating our money, whether it be more or less, 
 belongs as much to the poor as to the rich — indeed, no class so 
 readily squander their earnings as those who have gained them 
 with very great difficulty. Gluttony and drinking are supposed 
 to be of the crimes into which the very rich are betrayed, but 
 even when the proportion of numbers is adjusted carjrally, 
 there is more indulgence in these faults among the moneyless 
 than the moneyed. The prayer of Agur covers the case : " Give 
 me neither poverty nor riches : lest I be full and deny thee ; 
 lest I be poor and steal." Here each state has its danger, and the 
 sin of the rich is more likely to be covert, of the poor overt. 
 The one errs of self-confidence, the other of desperation. What 
 Agur desired was that safe middle-ground, where happily so 
 large a proportion of people stand. He who owes nothing, and 
 has his daily bread, is not poor. Great wealth could put him 
 in no better position, except in making his cloth a little finer, 
 and spreading more butter on his bread. To lack a large bank 
 account is not to be poor, if, on the other hand, there is no 
 dead weight of debts. As long as courage, activity and knowl- 
 edge of some useful occupation remain to us, and we owe no 
 man anything but to love one another, then we are not indigent 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 389 
 
 "Forgive me, poverty!" cries a French writer, "that I con- 
 founded thee with indigence. To weahh man fastens himself as 
 one grown upon a rock, but in contented poverty, which is not 
 neediness, one sits as in a skift", where one may easily cut the 
 cable and drift away to the better land." 
 
 Now I find that as to money in the Home, three writers of 
 diverse nations give us three precepts which may be well applied. 
 Cicero tells us, that " Economy is in itself a great revenue." 
 Joubert, a Frenchman, warns us, that " Debts abridge life." 
 While Lord Bacon gives us this counsel : " Seek not proud 
 riches, but such as thou mayst get justly, use soberly, dis- 
 tribute cheerfully, and leave contentedly: yet have no abstract 
 or friarly contempt of them." 
 
 Now among all its other havings, the Home must have a 
 money basis. Money must build its shelter; feed, and clothe, 
 and school its inmates ; provide for their old age ; and as new 
 members are added to the family, parental foresight discerns 
 their coming needs, and reaches out for means to supply them. 
 To provide this money basis of the Home, Providence has 
 bestowed upon us humans, acquisitiveness, or an ability for 
 getting. The bestowal of this impulse is beneficent ; for, setting 
 aside a deal of absurd declaiming on the incompatibility of 
 wealth and virtue, we face the facts that pauperism prevents a 
 man fulfilling his duty as a man and a citizen, and in nine cases 
 out of ten is the child of laziness and twin-brother of crime ; 
 while though wealth does not create virtue, it is obviously not 
 inimical to it, and dwells with it very peaceably in the same 
 nest; and between these two is that safe middle-ground, afford- 
 ing living room, scope for useful labor, where, as on a plain 
 removed alike from burning heats and biting cold, the Home 
 may be happily established. To reach this position of comfort 
 should be the aim of every family; such a position should be 
 desired and labored for with a tenacity which never relaxes into 
 
390 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 inertia, and with a quiet hopefulness which will keep us froii 
 being over-anxious about the morrow. In this proper pursuit 
 of family independence, we must consider the means to employ, 
 the dangers to avoid, the /rlime of mind in wliich to live. 
 
 I tried to impress upon my nieces from the time when they 
 set up housekeeping for themselyes that saying of Cicero , 
 " Economy is in itself a great revenue." I had the sentence 
 illuminated and framed, and presented it to each of them, as also 
 to others of my young friends: I desired to create in our village 
 a feeling that economy was creditable. Now just as there is a 
 wide difference between poverty, or the state of ujiwealth and 
 indigence or neediness, so there is a great difference between 
 economy and penuriousness. Economy builds up the home; 
 penuriousness saps' its strength. I warned my young friends 
 that the great danger of beginners is a contempt of littles. 
 They would see that a saving of a hundred or a thousand 
 dollars was reasonable, but they do not appreciate the virtue 
 of saving as many cents. As says the old proverb, " Many a 
 little makes a mickle," but we elderly people, who have seen the 
 littles grow to mickles, and have outlived long examples in 
 compound interest, understand much more clearly than the 
 )-oung the value of small economies; therefore, while with the 
 eld:rly these economies are matters of reason and experience, 
 with the young they must be matters of habit. Young people's: 
 habits are of course matters of education, and parents should 
 ■ realize that by instructing their children in the practice of econ- 
 omy, they are laying the foundations of their future fortunes,, 
 the comfort and stability of their homes, and the fortunes of 
 their grandchildren. I saw very clearly this difference in habits 
 of economy between Helen and Miriam as young housewives. 
 Helen had never been trained to consider her small expendi- 
 tures; she would lose or spend numerous little sums, and 
 remark that such a little made no difference — a few shilling.s, oi 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 39] 
 
 cents, or a dollar or two; "it would be all the same in a life- 
 time." 
 
 I replied to her one day, " Indeed, my dear girl, it will not be 
 all the same in a lifetime. You are but little past twenty; you 
 haidly look forward to living less than thirty or forty years 
 longer, and it will be far from all the same in that lifetinje 
 whether these littles are saved or wasted. Suppose, in littles, 
 you waste less than one dollar a week, say fifty dollars in a 
 year : put that out at six per cent, compound interest, and in 
 forty years you have seven thousand seven hundred dollars, 
 Now it would make perhaps a deal of difference to you whether 
 at sixty-two you had that much more to live on or to bequeath. 
 It might be a deal of good to one of your children to have that 
 much additional." 
 
 Shortly after Mary Watkins was married, Miriam invited a 
 small company to meet her at tea. The conversation happened 
 to turn on this question of building up domestic finances ; and 
 some of the young womefi said to me : "Aunt Sophronia, what 
 are the rules for getting rich ? " 
 
 " Come," I said, "do you suppose the answer to that question 
 will be short or long, hard- or easy? " 
 
 Said Helen, " I should think it would be very long, as there 
 are millions of ways of getting rich, and people have been 
 busy for several thousand years in discussing them. It must be 
 a very hard question to answer, also, inasmuch as most people 
 find "it so very hard to get rich." 
 
 "All that has been said can be boiled down to a very short 
 and simple answer," I replied; " and all the difficulty in the work 
 lies in the needful self-sacrifice. The question first is. What do 
 you mean by getting rich ? Do you wish to know how to lay up 
 an immense superfluity — to become millionnaires ? Or will you 
 be content to call honest independence, enough to live upon tr.ste- 
 fully without fear or favor, enough to keep away the wdlve/ 
 
392 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 of debt and want, and to send out from your door, on youl 
 errands, the full-handed angels of benevolence — will you call 
 that being rich ? " 
 
 " I will," said Miriam ; " more would be a useless burden." 
 " You know," said Helen, laughing, " that it is said that Astor 
 gets only his ' keep ' out of his wealth, so that all beyond the 
 keep is really a burden and not a help to him." 
 
 " Then as' you will call modest competence, comfortable 
 assurance, wealth," I replied, " I will give you the rules, which 
 are few and simple, and easily performed by self-sacrifice. 
 Work hard ; see and improve all small opportunities ; keep out 
 of debt and carefully economize. That is the best that all the 
 wisdom of the world has been able to digest and formulate as 
 rules for getting rich. The matter is simple and lies in a nut- 
 shell : have the end definitely before you ; do your own work 
 toward it and do it honestly, and don't give up until you have 
 reached your goal ; the same plain, straight, unadorned and yet 
 passable road is open to all." 
 
 " I don't know," said Miriam, " but the seizing of small oppor- 
 tunities would be the hardest to me, for I do not see things 
 quickly." 
 
 "And I do know," said Helen, "that the 'work hard ' and the 
 'economize' would be equally difficult to me, for I hate both, 
 and yet — I want to help Frank get on in the world, and our 
 children must be provided for." 
 
 "The 'keep out of debt' seems the hardest part to me,"*said 
 Mary Watkins, "for there is a mortgage on our farm, and 
 we think of buying more land, and that will mean more 
 mortgage." 
 
 '' These same difficulties," I said, " confront the man with ;l 
 hundred thousand, which he is striving to make a million, and 
 Betsy Rourke, whose husband earns thirty or forty dollars a 
 mofith. The result will depend on now we manage the difficul- 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 393 
 
 ties ; the millionnaire may manage so as to get into the peniten- 
 tiary, the poor-house, or be a pauper on the hands of his friends ; 
 Betsy Rourke may manage so as to secure a tidy cabin of her 
 own for her old age ; put all her children in the way of earning 
 a better living than her own; have never a debt; always a little 
 laid up for a rainy day, and die respected. Each of you may 
 manage so as to live under a perpetual fear of being pushed into 
 ruin by the first touch on you of "sickness, loss, a death in 
 the family, or by sudden hard times; or you may walk con- 
 fidently inside of a safe, strong margin wherewith you have 
 hemmed your affairs." 
 
 " Your mention of Betsy Rourke," said Mrs. Winton, " re- 
 minds me that we who visit a good deal among the poor in this 
 town, and among the workers in our shops and factories, are 
 not doing our duty by them in giving them clear, practical in- 
 structions, and a little encouragement in regard to the manage- 
 ment of their money affairs. We could do it in a friendly way, 
 without seeming to intrude on what is no concern of ours. The 
 poor know nothing of political economy, and very nearly as little 
 of domestic economy. The most of them in this town manage 
 little more than to be one day in advance of starvation. They 
 use up their earnings as they go ; a little extra earnings does not 
 mean a nest-egg for future savings, a pleasant addition made to 
 the little balance in bank, but it means a day's pleasure excur^ 
 sion; some bit of finery; a grand dinner. It is harder for them 
 to be prudent than to be industrious ; they expect to work hard, 
 but they do not expect to save carefully. They toil laboriously, 
 and spend the money as recklessly as if it grew in their pockets." 
 
 " They think," said Miriam, " that what they can lay by is so 
 little that it is not worth the trying to accumulate." 
 
 "And yet these littles can grow into a handsome reserve. My 
 mother-in-law had the same cook for thirty-five years. My 
 father-in-law left this old servant five hundred dollars ; she her- 
 
394 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 self saved every week a portion of her wages; she dressed com 
 fortably; always gave her little contributions at church; helped 
 some of her poor relations; was thrifty without being mean; ai 
 the end of the thirty-five ■ years' service she had thirty-five hun- 
 dred dollars laid up ; at this time she became crippled and retireo 
 from work, living in modest ease for ten years on what she haa 
 saved, and finally providing for her burial and giving some littie 
 legacies to her friends. Her savings had made her independeni 
 in age, when she might have been a pauper." 
 
 "Our working-people," I said, "receive wages which make 
 them comfortable as long as they are earning them, but owing 
 to their habit of using up all as fast as they earn it, as soon as a 
 slack time comes, or an accident happens, or an epidemic is 
 abroad, they are reduced to straits. They would lay up four or 
 five dollars a week if they had the chance, but they despise the 
 little which it is in their power to save." 
 
 "But, aunt, it is so little. There is Hannah's brother: he 
 gets thirty dollars a month, and that is as little as they can 
 live on." 
 
 " If they can live on thirty, by a little management they can 
 live on twenty-nine. What is one dollar a month saved ? Very 
 little ; but put out the twelve dollars at interest, and keep on 
 adding to it at like rate, and in two years he has twenty-six dol- 
 lars and a half, and it goes on increasing ; in a few years he has 
 the comfortable, self-respecting feeling of a man with a decent 
 little balance in bank. It is worth trying." 
 
 "There is avast difference," said Mrs. Burr, "between thrift 
 and avarice or meanness. True, the line between thrift and 
 greed is so closely drawn that some people overstep it without 
 being aware. Our little savings should not be made at the 
 expense of strict honesty, of charity, of sympathy, there aro 
 things far more useful and important in a home than saving, 
 We are not to make our small savings, or oi.r great savings, b) 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 395 
 
 grinding the faces of the poor; by depriving ourselves of rest, 
 and of things needful to our health and for the prolongation 
 of our lives ; nor by restricting our children of proper grati- 
 fications and recreations, making the memory of their youth a 
 bitterness." 
 
 "The question seems to be in order," said Miriam, "how are 
 e to economize? where shall we make our savings, small and 
 .reat?" 
 
 " Here," I said, " is field for self-denial. We must not expect 
 to set out .in life as lavishly as we should like to end. We can 
 only do that if some amiable ancestor has endowed us with a 
 fortune. The sons and daughters leave homes which the exer- 
 tions and carefulness of parents have built up into a degree of 
 luxury; mother has her two or three servants; father his horse 
 and carriage; the house is large; furnishings are handsome; the 
 summer affords a long vacation. The young folks fancy that 
 the new home wherein they set up must have all these appoint- 
 ments. They are not extravagance for the parents, who have 
 the results of years to fall back upon, but they are extravagance 
 to the young folks, the results of whose years are yet to come. 
 They forget that father and mother began in the narrow way; 
 that they had a small house, and economized as to fires, and 
 waited a year before they furnished the spare-room ; and mother 
 did the most of her own work, and father walked to his place of 
 business, and they went to no costly ent&rtainments; looked at 
 fine goods through shop windows, and not over counters purse 
 in- hand. The veteran may rest on his laurels, the tyro must earn 
 his. If our young people wish with no capital to live like people 
 who have capital, the result will be debt, disaster, disgrace. 
 Who can count the homes kept in constant gnawing misery by 
 living beyond their means ; debt pressing; exposure menacing, 
 credit slipping away! Life is shortened by extravagant living, 
 \i we try to build a business on show, by seeming to have wha< 
 
396 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 we really do not possess, then we are building our house upon 
 the sand, and when the rains descend, the winds blow, and the 
 floods beat, then the Home shall fall into miserable ruin. 
 
 "This extravagance in living does not necessarily mean a 
 coachman in livery ; a bay span ; a box at the opera ; velvet and 
 point-lace, and a splendid house ; extravagance in living is to be 
 living beyond our means, be they large or small. If bur means 
 are equal only to expending nine hundred, and we live up to a 
 thousand, then we are extravagant, although we hired no cab ; 
 wore no silk gown ; bought no pine-apples ; kept no nurse-maid, 
 We were extravagant where another would have been very sav- 
 ing, because we went beyond our means ; he kept within his. 
 Extravagance in living stands before our mind's eye a gorgeous 
 creature : plumed like a bird of paradise ; glittering like a Dam- 
 ascene blade; splendid if dangerous. Extravagance should 
 rather appear as a corrupting corpse, a hangman's rope clutched 
 in its discolored hand ; a ghastly wound across the throat ; a 
 gibbet behind it, and the pit of perdition yawning in front ; for 
 this extravagance, equally common to men and women, equally 
 criminal to both, stands at the back of ninety-nine one-hun ■ 
 dredths of the suicides, defaulters, murderers, forgers, delinquent 
 guardians and trustees, plunderers of widows and orphans. This 
 e:xtravagance leers at us over the wrecks of homes and reputa- 
 tions and brains ; it gibbers at us from the mad-house ; creeps to 
 the penitentiary cell ; sweeps slowly by in the dishonored bier ; 
 lies ghastly in the morgue; goes down darkly and rises festering 
 from the waters in the " unknown drowned.' 
 
 "If wives see that their husbands incline to extravagance, they 
 should hold them back from this brink of ruin with all their 
 power ; and they should beware of extravagance in their own 
 persons, for by it many a wife has become a millstone about hei 
 husband's neck to sink him in a sea of misery." 
 
 " You are so earnest that you frighten me," cried Helen. 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE ifoME. 397 
 
 " I feel that she cannot be too earnest," said Miriam ; "' and I 
 eschew extravagance with all my heart from this time forth. 
 But, Aunt Sophronia, one may be extravagant — ^that is, be living, 
 although but a little, beyond their income — without knowing it : 
 they may be sinking in a quicksand before they are aware that 
 they have stepped upon it. How shall we know that, while 
 striving to be economical, we are not becoming penurious, and 
 that, trying to be fair, we are not extravagant? " 
 
 " In the first place, know your income ; and in the second 
 place, mark your expenses. In other words keep accounts. As 
 to avoiding penuriousness, we must remember that over all we 
 have God holds a first mortgage, and humanity a second. Of 
 these two mortgages we must pay the interest honestly : they 
 are our first debts, and when they are fairly attended to, then 
 we must mark our accounts. We shall have avoided the Scylla 
 of penuriousness, and we must steer clear of the Charybdis of 
 extravagance : we shall do this by means of a diligent studjr 
 of our account-books. Great men have not despised careful 
 account-keeping; indeed, their carefulness in this particular 
 was one token of their greatness. Washington and Wellington 
 were both very particular in account-keeping. We should dare 
 to look resolutely at the state of our affairs: bankruptcies 
 oftener arise in a neglect in scrutinizing our accounts than in 
 any other ons :;ause. England and France have laws obliging 
 all business people, io keep proper account-books. Every house- 
 wife should have her account-books. When a servant enters 
 her employ, she should put down the coming into service and 
 the rate of wages ; every payment should be scrupulously set 
 down in the servants' presence as they receive the wages. All 
 the daily expenditures should be set down; each month the 
 account should be footed up ; the monthly proportion of rent, 
 lights, fuel, wages, be added, and the amount compared with the 
 
 month's income. If the amount oversteps the income, or so 
 
 26 
 
898 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 squarely meets it that there is not that needed margin for the 
 small savings, then revise the account and take warning. 
 Where needlessly was spent the dollar ? What costly item for 
 the table can be replaced by one more suitable to our means ? 
 Where was the useless inciulgence, whicn, denied, would have 
 brought this account into proper shape ? Where shall our next 
 saving be Scrupulously made ? Let us discern between the need- 
 ful and the needless. Can next month be brought to settle the 
 deficit of this, so that the year shall not tell the story of our folly ? 
 Let us now take, by a month of self-denial, the consequences 
 of our carelessness, and we shall arise and do better." 
 
 " We must surely keep accounts," said Miriam, " but these 
 things which you have suggested to us seem rather in the way 
 of preventing expenditures than of making money I suppose 
 it is true that we are enriched not so much by what we make as 
 by what we save ; but let us have at least one rule for gaining." 
 
 " I do not know any rule for gaining," said Mrs. Burr, " which 
 would come before persistency in a course well begun. Do not 
 become restless, think that you accumulate too slowly, that 
 some other line of life would be better, and so change your 
 business. A woman has much influence over her husband's 
 business. If she constantly finds fault with it, undervalues its 
 efficiency or respectability, contrasts it unfavorably with others, 
 she will presently move him to some change which may be 
 disastrous. I knew a young woman whose husband owned 
 a nice farm : she began to crave town life ; she did not want to 
 be a farmer's wife, to bring up her children in the country ; 
 finally she persuaded him to sell the farm, and set up in the city 
 as a real estate agent. At that business he has starved along 
 ever since ; his children are unhealthy and ill-provided ; while the 
 purchaser of the farm has a nice home and competence. I know 
 another young woman who took it into her head that her 
 husband had better study a profession than be a village grocer. 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 39S 
 
 He had a nice trade, but the couple went mad on a false idea of 
 gentility. He gave up his business, studied medicine, did not 
 succeed in getting a practice, and has lived from hand to 
 mouth. We cannot say that change is never advisable : most 
 rules have exceptions; but the safe rule is to persevere in the 
 line of life upon which one has entered. Often the safest 
 business is the slowest. This is particularly true of farming ; 
 almost no farmers who attend faithfully to their own work and 
 avoid speculations are ever bankrupts ; but as their gains are 
 very slow, especially in the beginning years, when they are 
 making repairs, building, fencing, perhaps paying a mortgage, 
 they think that they will never do better, and they want a 
 change." 
 
 " One danger in making these changes," said Mrs. Winton, 
 " is that you throw away the progress made, and the knowledge 
 acquired in the business already begun : when you change you 
 go back to the beginning. Having half learned farming does 
 not put you half through with the grocery business, but if you 
 go into groceries you must begin at the ABC. One business 
 does not furnish us the alphabet for others : each has its own." 
 
 " That fits our experience," said Cousin Ann ; " for the first 
 five years that we were on the farm, we could not see that we 
 had made anything but our keep and improvements: we had 
 not paid a dollar on the principal of the mortgage. But 
 though we felt discouraged, we looked at the matter squarely : 
 we had gained much experience; our buildings were in order; 
 our fences we're in order ; the land was in far better condition 
 than when we got it ; our young cattle were beginning to be of 
 value ; we were in a much better position to go on and make 
 money than when we began ; and, indeed, from that time our 
 former work began to tell, and we made money fairly fast. 
 Father has always warned our boys not to be changeable. He 
 said to Fred and Reed, when they thought they might find a 
 
400 :r^^ complete home. 
 
 more profitable way of using their farms : ' Don't change from 
 fruit and vegetables to sheep. You have been working at the 
 fruit and vegetables until you understand them ; no one can 
 cheat you in them ; your start is made ; you have run for your 
 jump; your momentum is gained — you lose all that by changing. 
 Don't try to turn your stock-farm into a sorghum plantation, or 
 go into beet-sugar or tobacco. That might all do if you 
 started at it, but you have made your start in another line: 
 you have raised stock ; studied stock ; arranged your farm for 
 stock-raising. Don't throw away five years' work; stick to what 
 you are at.' " 
 
 These remarks of Cousin Ann closed the conversation for 
 that time, but, a few days after, Mary Watkins came to see me- 
 She said that she had been much struck with the saying, 
 " Debts shorten life." A debt made a heavy burden to carry, 
 and toil was harder for such a load. There was a mortgage on 
 their farm. She wanted some advice as to how she could help 
 pay it, and whether she had better encourage her husband to 
 buy more land under a mortgage. She said a scrap of poetry 
 kept ringing in her head — 
 
 "There is no use of talking, Charles, you buy that twenty more, 
 And we'll go scrimping all our lives, and always be land-poor. 
 For thirty years we've tugged and toiled, denying half our needs. 
 And all we have to show for it is tax-receipts and deeds." 
 
 " Well, Mary," I replied, " I cannot give you any advice 
 about the purchase of land, for I do not know how you are 
 situated, and I do not wish to interfere with your "business ; but 
 I can give you a little advice as to the dangers to avoid in the 
 getting of money, which advice may be of use to you. As 
 debts do abridge life, avoid debts as you would poison or con- 
 tagion. To do this you must live rigorously within your 
 means. To live within our income, even if it be only by a six- 
 pence, is to escape the degradation of neediness. Poverty is 
 
VSh AND ABUSE OF MONEY I^ THE HOME. 401 
 
 only relative. If you can keep out of debt, you are relatively 
 rich : a man with five thousand a year, who gets yearly two 
 hundred dollars in debt, is relatively poor. When by over- 
 stepping your income you get into debt, you purchase the worst 
 evils of poverty — shame and fear. Haliburton says : ' No man 
 is rich whose expenditures exceed his means, and no man i.; 
 poor whose incomings exceed his outgoings.' Your first effort 
 in paying off your mortgage will be to bring all your expenses 
 within your income, and by all that you bring them within you 
 can lessen your indebtedness. I should wish to be very sure of 
 the propriety of getting more land, if I got a new debt with it. 
 Again, Mary, do not be in haste to be rich. This haste is that 
 taking thought and care for to-morrow which the Scripture con- 
 demns. This over-zeal for riches abridges life as much as debt 
 does. People, in their hurry for increase of money, coin their 
 very lives and souls. All the goodness and capacity for enjoy- 
 ment dies out of their lives while they are striving for wealth. 
 People in this pursuit of money deny themselves the comforts 
 of life ; they keep their children out of school to avail them- 
 selves of their labor; they deny them books, newspapers, 
 society, decent clothes ; they make them feel shame-faced and 
 mean — all for what? — to roll them up a fortune which they 
 will not be able to enjoy. They" make their children coarse, 
 ignorant, greedy, unloving, in order to have more money to 
 leave them. But what good will this money do without friends, 
 without the confidence and respect of the community ? In spite 
 of their money they will see all the prizes of life carried off by 
 those whose parents were careful to give them those things 
 which are better than money : /. e., social qualities, education, 
 good manners, affectionate feelings, general information. In 
 over-haste to be rich, the energies, and sympathies, and cares of 
 the parent are withdrawn from his children to the money- 
 getting. The home devoid of attraction is a jail rather than a 
 
402 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 > 
 
 ' dear nest ' to the children. The intercourse between them and 
 their parents has been hard, brief and cold; there is nothing 
 to regret in leaving them. No tender recollections of sunny 
 hours, of gratified tastes, of mutual enjoyments, bind them to 
 home; as soon as they can they fly off to strangers and strange 
 places, lacking that strongest tie to morality, a loving thought 
 of home. If the children are worth laying up money for, they 
 are doubly worth cultivating in all that is best in them ; and in 
 devoting ourselves too intensely to the pursuit of riches, we for- 
 sake the greater for the less. Don't, in your desire to save and 
 to earn, descend into meanness. Avoid illiberality to servants, to 
 children, to the public. As a mere matter of business, liberality 
 pays well. Meanness hardens the heart, narrows our views, 
 dries up our social instincts : men naturally hate and antagonize 
 it. The child, treated illiberally, loses love for the parent. The 
 servant, illiberally dealt with, loses all zeal in service, has no 
 encouragement to render that faithfulness and energy which 
 are beyond all purchase; meanly treated, deprived of even just 
 gains, he retorts by doing for his master as little as he can. 
 Neighbors miss the kind, neighborly act ; the church comments 
 on lack of charity ; the dealer detects the scanty weight, the 
 poor quality, the narrow bargains ; and as we sow we reap ; we 
 get back our own coin, and can we complain if it is counterfeit, 
 or has been clipped? A good deed done in a kindly temper is 
 never thrown away : the bountiful sowing makes the bountiful 
 harvest. Says the Scripture : ' The liberal man deviseth liberal 
 things, and by liberal things he shall stand.' We can provoke 
 unto love and good works. In the ' Vicar of Wakefield ' 
 Farmer Flamborough grew rich, although he was so honest, 
 kind and unsuspecting that Mr. Jenkinson was always cheating 
 him ; while Mr. Jenkinson, shrewd enough, and mean enough 
 to cheat, fell into poverty and prison. Bunyan tells us in a 
 little rhyme : 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 403 
 
 "' There was a man and some did count him mad : 
 The more he cast away, the more he had ; ' 
 
 and this riddle is thus unravelled : 
 
 " ' He who bestows his goods upon the puur. 
 Shall have as much again, and ten limes more.' 
 
 "Again, the wisest of men tells us that: ' There is that maketh 
 himself rich, yet hath nothing ; there is that withholdeth more 
 than is meet, and it tendeth to poverty. There is that maketh 
 himself poor, yet hath great riches.' A hard bargain is a bad 
 bargain for the proposer ; he may appear to gain, yet he will 
 eventually lose. Be generous and unselfish in your endeavors 
 to accumulate property ; if you get it in a mean way, you will 
 use it in a mean way ; the habit of meanness will be stamped in 
 your soul, and you will have made money itself your end, and 
 experience that love of money which is the root of all evil. 
 Nothing is more unhealthful, more life-shortening, more soul- 
 cramping, than to be engrossed in money-getting ; the Mammon 
 worshipper is a mean man. Milton tells us that Mammon him- 
 self, in heaven, could not look up, so fastened were his eyes on 
 the golden pavement ! Therefore do not consider accumulation 
 your chief good. You accumulate in order to strengthen, pre- 
 serve and improve the Home; therefore don't let your Sccu- 
 mulating be the destroying of the home. Don't accumulate in 
 such a fashion that some day you shall wake to find your home 
 gone ; its hopes perished ; its loves dried in their fountains ; the 
 children fled in disgust and soul-sickness ; your hopes of heaven 
 darkened ; God forgotten ; your so-called Home merely a whited 
 and gilded sepulchre, full of rottenness and dead men's bones. 
 Carry the vitality, the honor, the joyfulness of your home on 
 with you in your course of accumulation. The story of King 
 Midas is a parable which we should all lay to heart. Remem- 
 ber, Mary, all things are for our immortal part; for mind; for 
 soul; the life is more than raiment. What is raiment to a corpse? 
 
404 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 What is money to him whose soul, body, heart, mind, celestial 
 crown, have been sacrificed to gain it?" 
 
 "Thank you," said Mary, "for what you have said; I think I 
 was beginning to consider accumulation a chief good, and money 
 a chief end, instead of merely means to the end of true home 
 building. I see money is as likely to be Abused as Used in the 
 home. In the poem which I quoted are two other verses which 
 I remember: 
 
 " ' Our life is short, and full of care : the end is always nigh ; 
 We seldom half begin to live, before we're doomed to die. 
 Were I to start my life again, I'd mark each separate day. 
 And never let a single one pass unenjoyed away. 
 
 " ' If there were things to envy, I'd have them now and then, 
 And have a home that was a home, and not a cage or pen. 
 I'd sell some land, if it were mine, and fit up well the rest; 
 I've always thought, and think so yet — small farms, well worked, are best.'" 
 
 I fancy Mary persuaded her husband to her view, for the)' 
 did not buy more land for some time. 
 
 The day that brings us into debt is a dark day; that is a light 
 day — glad as the going out of Egypt — when one gets out of 
 debt. I was at Cousin Ann's one day, when she read a little bit 
 of poetry called " No Mortgage on the Farm," from the village 
 paper. She said she appreciated it from her own experience; 
 she remembered it was a glad day when Reuben paid off the lasl 
 dollar of the mortgage, and though years had passed, the joy 
 was yet fresh in her mind: 
 
 " While our hearts are now so joyful, let us, Mary, not forget 
 To thank the God of heaven for being out of debt ; 
 For he gave the rain and sunshine, and put strength into my arm. 
 And lengthened out the days to see. No Mortgage on the Farm ! " 
 
 * If any one can tell us what is a right state of mind in regard 
 .© Money in the Home, I think you can, cousin," I replied, "for 
 you have had a large family for which to provide ; you have had 
 your narrow beginnings; your long days of struggle to free 
 
USM AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 405 
 
 yourselves from debt; the constant, daily, arising needs to meet; 
 and have at last reached a time when means are comfortably 
 abundant." 
 
 " The main thing is," replied Cousin Ann, " to keep in view 
 that we are getting the money not for itself, but for the good 
 which it will secure ; therefore we must be on the watch to take 
 the good as it comes. We may say we are laying up the for- 
 tunes and securing the happiness of our children, but we must 
 remember that childhood has its fortunes and its happiness as 
 well as middle-life. Why deny our children the happiness and 
 fortune of a few toys, in order that we may add dollars to other 
 dollars for their future ? The few toys may let in a whole flood 
 of sunshine on the child's life. How do we know but they will 
 be all the fortune that we can give it — that the little child may 
 never grow up to claim its portion of goods — that all our be- 
 stowal of fortune on it must be limited to a doll, a tin-cart, and 
 a yard of daisied sod ? We deny the little girl a doll and play- 
 time, and she prematurely becomes a hard-faced woman who 
 never had a childhood. I have seen men who begrudged the 
 time which they said their wives wasted over a stand of flowers ; 
 rnen who complained that a few pots of geraniums and verbenas 
 cost too much ; if their wives wanted flowers let them wait until 
 they were rich, and they should have a garden full, or a hot' 
 house. But the wife died long before riches came, and flowers 
 in plenty went into her coffin and upon her grave ; it would have 
 done her far more good if they- had been put into her livin*» 
 hands ! 
 
 ''A very little outlay will often procure for some member of 
 Dur families some gratification of taste, which will be 'richly 
 repaid in love and happiness. Besides, we sometimes forget that 
 these small gratifications have a positive effect on health and 
 spirits, renewing both, and, in very truth, producing a bette 
 return in money and saving than almost any other outlay. The 
 
406 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 little token of thoughtfulness, of kindly remembrance, renews 
 the courage — reminds one how much there is yet left to live for. 
 We must know when to spare and when to spend. It is not 
 well to have all the scrimping and saving done in one series of 
 years, looking to have all the lavishing done in another decade. 
 We must save and spend at the same time ; pay as we go, and 
 ^uild up our home in taste, in comfort, in intelligence, in propor- 
 tion as we are building it up in fortune." 
 
 "And when we are speaking of the use of money in the home, 
 we must not forget," I said, " that while one form of its abuse i.i 
 in penuriousness, another form of abuse is lavishness. Children 
 get too much money to spend which they never earned, and of 
 which they do not know the value. I heard of a man who said 
 that he just put some money in a drawer, and let his children go 
 there and help themselves. There would be account-keeping, 
 saving, good judgment, when all the youngsters had to do was 
 to get out the money and use it, and no questions asked ! I 
 have seen a child of ten, going off for a three days' visit, handed 
 five dollars to buy candy and nuts. A young school-mate of 
 Miriam's was so liberally supplied with pocket-money that she 
 really did not know what to do with it. One day she bought a 
 dollar's worth of candy ; then opening the paper, and finding the 
 first bit flavored with peppermint, a thing which she disliked, 
 she tossed the whole parcel into the mud of the street. Another 
 girl whom I knew, received from home a pair of pretty ornaments 
 which cost ten dollars ; she wore them a day or two, then pre- 
 sented one to her room-mate, and the next week lost the other. 
 Girls thus recklessly given dress and spending money are really 
 driven into extravagance, and are at last the women whose hus- 
 bands become bankrupts, defaulters, suicides. Boys who may 
 lavishly spend money out of the paternal pocket learn to smoke, 
 drink, play cards, race horses : they apply themselves to no 
 useful occupation, have no high principles, learn nothing v/hich 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 407 
 
 shall make them self-dependent. Money which comes to young 
 people so easily, of whose bitter earning they know nothing, of 
 whose deprivation they know nothing, is a snare and a curse. 
 Better the chances of the little bootblack earning his dimes, and 
 respecting them as proceeds of his labor ; better a million times 
 the farm-boy, whose dollar represents the potatoes he planted 
 and dug, or the chickens he fed and tended for a six months, 
 than the boy who gets his twenty or fifty dollars, to spend 
 unquestioned, and to whom that money is just so much green 
 paper out of father's pocket. 
 
 " Children should be taught to earn money ; to save reasonably 
 their money; to spend it judiciously; to give out of their own 
 funds, not merely going to father with the cry, ' Give me a cent 
 for contribution ! ' and then putting it in the box, and calling it 
 their own giving : shall we give of that which costs us nothingn? 
 Children should be taught to take care of their money, not 
 losing it heedlessly here and there, laying it down and forgetting 
 where they put it ; so they should be instructed to keep accounts ; 
 this forms the habit of method and of reasoning in their busi- 
 ness : the spendthrift boy will be the spendthrift man. 
 
 "Another abuse of money in the home is to keep all the money 
 for that one home and its needs and luxuries, forgetting that 
 the one home is but a unit among many; that as we are human, 
 humanity has its claims on us all; that in the civilized state 
 every man is more or less dependent on his neighbor, and must 
 do a share for others while he is working for himself There are 
 human beings without homes ; human beings sunk so in degra- 
 dation, so steeped in indigence, that knowledge and means 
 of home-making are out of their reach ; there are in the world 
 plenty of stray waifs, childless, widowed women, relationless men, 
 friendless children, hopeless invalids : for these society must make 
 homes and provide teachers and refuges. One of the abuses of 
 our money is to gather it all into our own circle, centre it upon 
 
408 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ourselves, desire to surfeit our own appetites, to crowd our 
 own lives with pleasures, and our own homes with luxuries, and 
 refusing to distribute as we have opportunity to those who are 
 in need. A grand use of money in the home is to give us to 
 taste the blessedness of doing good. The hundred busy hands 
 which have gathered in the fortune should be ready to com- 
 municate ; the hundred eyes which have looked for opportunities 
 ®f increasing our store should look wisely abroad, to see what 
 fields can be watered by it, what waste places sown, what deserts 
 made to become gardens. 
 
 "And here, as said our minister the other day, arises the much 
 vexed question: ' How much have we a right to use for selves? 
 What is a rational and proper style of living for a Christian? 
 And to this it can only be answered that every man is a law to 
 himself If no one used any luxuries, trade, and manufacture, 
 and invention would be at once crippled. He who has many 
 servants, justly treated, wisely governed, before whom he sets a 
 right example, makes his home a home to many, supports just 
 so many more of his fellows. More physical luxuries are 
 needed by some than by others : one man's nature only gets its 
 development in a great library ; pictures are another man's 
 natural mind-food ; let him thank God for money to buy them, 
 and so support artists. The only thing needful is to realize that 
 in our money we are God's stewards and our brother's keepers. 
 I^t us feel that in earning, in keeping, in spending our money 
 we are those who must give account. And so as Bacon warns 
 US, let us not hasten so to be rich that we cannot get honestly ; 
 let us not so spend our possessions on ourselves that we cannot 
 give liberally ; let us not love our means so well that we cannot 
 spend cheerfully ; let us not spend so recklessly that we begin 
 to live selfishly and greedily; let us not love money so well 
 that we will be loath to leave this world because of leaving 
 our worldly belongings ; and let us profess no scorn of money 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY IN THE HOME. 409 
 
 like that professed by the begging friars, who, be it remarked, 
 were always especially eager in getting ! 
 
 "And here I would only add a few monitions which I 
 impressed on Helen's little Tom. 
 
 " If men are to hate debt, boys must hate debt ; let them be 
 taught not to borrow, and not to beg: -it is training a boy in 
 pauperism to allow him to hint or boldly ask for money from 
 guests and relations. 
 
 " If the man is to be upright in business, the boy must be 
 upright. Do not think it is no matter if you neglect to return 
 your mother's change ; if you take, half by force or by calm 
 assumption, your little sister's or brother's money. Boys who 
 3;ct in this way will not be honorable business men. 
 
 "-Don't be a boy-miser — hoarding your own money, never 
 making a present, never giving in charity of your own, always 
 rager to receive and never ready to give. 
 
 "Take a pride in earning money: you will respect money 
 more, and be more likely to be honest in your dealings, if you 
 have learned how to earn money for yourself 
 
 " Don't make hard bargains with your mates, taking advan- 
 tage of their need or of their ignorance. 
 
 " Don't be lavish, spending to make the other boys stare, 
 buying things which you do not need merely to show off. 
 Remember the boy is what the man will be." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 
 
 « 
 
 AUNT SOPHRONIA's IDEA OF TASTE AND FITNESS IN DRESS. 
 
 ;1| ELINDA BLACK came in to see me one autumn monv 
 ing ; she often drops in, but that day she came espe 
 cially because she had on a new Fall suit. Whenevei 
 Belinda has a new gown, she is seized with a mania 
 for walking through all the streets, and for visiting her friends 
 until all have had a view of the new apparel. Indeed, she takes 
 a bland, innocent, unconcealed delight in new clothes, a delighl 
 which has so much childish simplicity in it that it is mainly 
 amusing. And yet Belinda is quite old enough to be reasonable; 
 a great many women never do become reasonable on the subject 
 of dress. Well, as I said, in came Belinda, and chatted away, 
 careful that she sat in a good light and in an advantageous 
 position to display her last dress. I chanced to ask her why 
 she had not been in her place as one of the sub-teachers in a 
 class for sewing, which I have for poor children, and she said 
 that just at that hour she had an engagement with the dress- 
 maker, and so forgot. " That is it, you see," said Belinda, with 
 a little laugh, " the dress-maker puts everything else out of my 
 foolish head ; I suppose I am even worse than other people in 
 that folly ; but we all think too much about dress," concludes Be- 
 linda in a judicial tone, while secretly smoothing out a ruffle and 
 regarding the trimming on her sleeve with great complacency. 
 " I differ from you, indeed," I replied ; " I conclude the 
 
 trouble is that we do not think half enough about our dress." 
 (410) 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. ^\\ 
 
 " Oh, Miss Sophronia ! " cried Belinda, " I thought it was a 
 waste of time and a token of a weak mind to think of dress." 
 
 " It depends entirely upon how you think of it, my dear. In 
 the way of imagination, I grant you, we may think a deal too 
 much about it; in the way of reason and common-sense, 
 generally not half enough. As to weak minds only occupying 
 themselves with this matter, some of the very finest minds have 
 lent themselves to its consideration. The Bible itself gives us 
 various rules about it ; great legislators have passed laws concern- 
 ing it ; physicians have written much on the subject ; and divines 
 have preached sermons and written books, also, about it." 
 
 " Why," says Belinda, opening wide her eyes, " I did not 
 know that the Bible had anything about dress, unless you mean 
 about the fig-leaf aprons, or how the Lord made Adam and 
 Eve coats of skins — Eve must have been very beautiful to stand 
 such dressing as that without a ribbon or a bit of lace — or 
 perhaps you mean about the priest's dress as we had it once in 
 our Sunday-school lesson." 
 
 " I meant none of those. I fear you have never read your 
 Bible through, my child." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I have ; straight through, and got five dollars for 
 it." 
 
 " Then, while you were going through it, I fear the five dol- 
 lars must have been more in your mind than what you were 
 reading. Read it through again, Belinda ; not for five dollars, but 
 for the sake of knowing what is in it. However, I will tell you 
 what it says of dress : Isaiah says, ' Because the daughters of 
 Zion are haughty, the Lord will take away the bravery of their 
 tinkling ornaments, and their cauls, and their round tires like 
 the* moon, the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers ; the 
 bonnets, and the ornaments, and the head-bands, aiid the tabLl i, 
 and the ear-rings, and the rings, and the nose-jewels ; the 
 changeable suits of apparel, the mantles, and the wimples, and 
 
412 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 c 
 
 the crisping-pins ; the glasses, and the fine Hnen, and the hoods, 
 and the veils.' " 
 
 " Why," cried Belinda, much interested, " what a quantity of 
 things, just such as we have now, it mentions ! I did not dream 
 that we were so old-fashioned in our ornaments and styles ; only 
 to think, all these things about twenty-three or four hundred 
 years ago ! As for the nose-jewels it would be a blessing to lose 
 them, and the glasses — I suppose it means little glasses to carry 
 around with them, possibly hanging at their waists, made of 
 polished metal, but used for looking-glasses — those would be 
 ugly too, for if one does spend a deal of time looking in the 
 glass, one does not want all the world to know it, nor wish to 
 be doing it in public." 
 
 "And yet I have seen ladies' fans with little glasses set in the 
 side, and I have seen their possessors very sedulously gazing 
 into them— say at church." 
 
 ■" Why,' cried Belinda, flushing, " I have one of those very 
 fans ! I never thought of it before, and maybe / sit looking in 
 it! I'll paste a picture over the glass the minute I go home; I 
 never before thought how ugly it was. But how very odd ! rings, 
 veils, head-dresses, bracelets, and tablets, such as we carry to 
 parties, to put down our partners on ! Who'd have thought it ! " 
 
 "Another prophet complains of the women sewing pillows 
 into the sleeves of their dresses." 
 
 " How hideous ! " cried Belinda. " No one would think of 
 such a fashion now-a-days." 
 
 " I should not like to be security as to what folly one would 
 not think of But as for pillows in the sleeves, I remember very 
 well a pair of little pillows stuffed with down, which my mother 
 had, and which she told me were worn in her early married 
 days, fastened in the upper part of the sleeve, to make the arm? 
 set out widely. They may come in fashion again." 
 
 " I'd never wear them — never," protested Belinda. 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 413 
 
 " I used to hear people say, in looking at the portraits of 
 Queen Elizabeth, where her majesty's waist and head look as 
 if rising out of a hogshead-^wherein she is standing, that if 
 hoops came in fashion again, they would never wear them; and 
 yet they did, great reed-filled skirts, as big as hogsheads, or 
 even bigger ; absurd as Queen Elizabeth's." 
 
 " I suppose," responded Belinda, meekly, " that there is no 
 telling what one will do, when a fashion comes in. What is 
 there more in the Bible about dress ? " 
 
 " Paul writes in 2d Timothy : ' that women adorn themselves 
 in modest apparel, not with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, 
 or costly array.' "• 
 
 " Why," said Belinda, argumentatively, " one would not want 
 their hair hanging straight behind their ears like a wild Indian's : 
 and I can't see what harm there is in gold, or pearls, or costly 
 dress." 
 
 " I do not fancy that Paul v/ould have approved of the wild 
 
 Indian style of hair-dressing. You notice he says adorn, which 
 
 suggests that he desired neatness and good taste, with a certain 
 
 , gravity and simplicity ; and as he suggests good works instead 
 
 of the gold or pearls, or costly array, I presume that he meant to 
 
 hint that as. there is so much poverty and pain in the world to be 
 
 relieved, so much ignorance to be instructed, so many souls 
 
 which need a preached gospel, and so much money required, to 
 
 feed the hungry, clothe the naked, nurse the sick, and send the 
 
 teachers to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death, 
 
 that the means of a Christian woman might far better be employed 
 
 thus in behalf of doing good, and laying up treasure in heaven, 
 
 than in procuring gold, pearls, or costly array. As to the hair, 
 
 you will see yourself, Belinda, that there is a vast difference 
 
 between dragging it negligently into a tumble-down knot, and 
 
 puffing it, stuffing it, giving here a friz, there a braid, there a 
 
 ringlet, there a plastered curl, there a braid of another style^ 
 27 
 
414 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 that excessively ornate method of hair-dressing which is not for 
 elegant comfort, but is for attracting attention — that attention 
 not the loving pleasure of our friends, but the insolent stare of 
 passers on the street." 
 
 " Now," said Belinda, uneasily, as she was not v/ithout fault 
 in this respect, " what do some of those wise, good people — those 
 divines, for instance — say about dress ? " 
 
 I took down one of my " old-fashioned books " and read a 
 fragment from good Bishop Hall. " In thy apparel avoid pro- 
 fuseness, singularity, and gaudiness ; let it be decent, and suited 
 to the quality of thy place and purse. Too much punctuality, 
 and too much moroseness, are the extremes of pride. Be neither 
 too early in the fashion, nor too long out of it, nor too precisely 
 in it. What custom hath civilized hath become decent; until 
 then it was ridiculous. Where the eye is the jury, the apparel 
 is the evidence ; the body is the shell of the soul ; apparel is the 
 husk of the shell, and the husk will often tell you what the 
 kernel is. Seldom does solid wisdom dwell under fantastic 
 apparel ; neither will the jester fancy be inured within the 
 walls of a grave habit. The clown is known by his motley 
 
 ■scoat.'' 
 
 "Why, how simple, easy, and full of common-sense, that 
 
 -sounds ! " said Belinda. " I wish folks preached like that now-a- 
 
 . days : I would learn so much more than I do." 
 
 " Would you ? Now tell me, what was our minister's text 
 
 .yesterday, and what was his subject?" 
 
 " Why — y — y — I don't believe I know. In fact, I was looking 
 
 ■ most of the time at Grace Winton's new bonnet, and at Mrs. 
 
 i Burr's .lovely new tie." 
 
 "Then perhaps our minister was giving us just as simple 
 common-sense as Bishop Hall, and you missed it ; and if you 
 had been one of Bishop Hall's hearers you might have been 
 
 ^considering the extent of somebody's farthingale, or the velvet 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 415 
 
 in their mantle. The fault is less in the words of preachers than 
 in the ears of hearers." 
 
 I suppose Belinda concluded that she had had instruction 
 enough for that morning, so she soon went home. She did not 
 forget our talk, however, but at the next Sewing Society detailed 
 much of it to the roomful of young people who were working 
 together in Mrs. Burr's back parlor ; and just as I had finished 
 distributing the work to the seniors in the front room, Grace 
 Winton called me. 
 
 "Aunt Sophronia, you are to come and sit with us, and answer 
 for this new heresy you have been inculcating in Belinda Black. 
 She says you have absolutely been warning her that she ought 
 to think more about dress; that we all ought." 
 
 I went in with a child's apron which I was making. 
 
 " You all think too much about dress in the way of imagina- 
 tion," I said. 
 
 " There, Belinda ! " cried Cousin Ann's younger daughter : " I 
 was quite sure that you were mistaken." 
 
 " For instance," I continued, " you spend hours in considering 
 how you would look in a new walking-suit, or which of the new 
 colors is most stylish, and would best suit your complexion. 
 You spend whole days in trying to arrange a dress for a party — 
 a dress which shall be just a little prettier than any one else 
 would have ; you spend all church time wondering how you 
 would look in somebody's new hat ; you spend on new trinkets, 
 which you do not need, the money which you ought to give to 
 the Missionary Society; you spend on over-doing your hair, time 
 when you ought to be helping your mothers with the mending ; 
 you stay away from prayer-meeting to embroider you a jacket, 
 or put another ruffle on a petticoat; you tease your fathers for 
 more money than they can afford to spend on your winter outfit, 
 and you coolly let your mother wear her old coat one winter „ 
 more, so that yoii can spend more money on the decorating of 
 one of your gowns," 
 
416 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " Oh, now, Aunt Sophronia ! " cried the girls, indignantly. 
 
 " Well, I knew a girl once who insisted on having one more 
 dress in her winter outfit, although she knew that if it were 
 bought, her mother, instead of buying for herself one new and 
 handsome dress, would be forced to get a very shabby thing for 
 her only new gown ; and yet this girl needed the extra dress sc 
 little, that in packing up her trunk for school, she absolutely 
 forgot it, and left it hanging in the closet, where it hung until 
 after Christmas." 
 
 " Now, Aunt Sophronia," said Grace Winton, energetically, 
 " that was as much the mother's fault as the girl's ; no mother 
 should be so weakly yielding, should so pander to the selfish- 
 ness of her child ; she should have brought her up better." 
 
 " No doubt,' Grace ; however, this girl did not live here in our 
 town. Let me proceed to observe to you, that you do not think 
 half enough about your dress — " 
 
 " There ! what did I tell you ! " cried Belinda. 
 
 " In the way of reason and common-sense. It is our duty to 
 think about our dress ; to apply some of our very best thoughts 
 to it. Next to the question of food, that of dress is the most 
 important of physical questions which can be put to us. On our 
 proper dressing much of our good health depends ; if we do not 
 have good health, we cannot have our brains in the best work- 
 ing order; we shall be also captious, selfish, exacting, fretful, 
 desponding ; demanding much of others, and able to do little 
 for them. He who is an invalid, in God's providence, is filling 
 some niche made for him, and performing some part in creation ; 
 a part which may in the revealings of the next world shine out 
 very beautifully ; but those who are invalids in virtue of their 
 own folly, of their own disregard for plain laws of health, are 
 leaving undone the work which God meant them to do, and are 
 adding to the burdens of humanity. If you admit that health is 
 a matter of high importance, you must admit that the question 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 41^ 
 
 of dress, which so much concerns that of health, is also very 
 important. Therefore we must think about dress as it concerns 
 health. But we may also see the question of dress lifted out of 
 the range of the merely physical and put into the domain of 
 morals. We are bound to think about dress as it concerns hon- 
 esty — honesty to God and to our neighbor. Another way in 
 which we are to think about dress is as it concerns charity. Now 
 if you faithfully debate with yourselves the question of dress as 
 it has to do with health, honesty, and charity, and you uprightly 
 carry out the convictions of duty at which you arrive, I think 
 there will thereafter be no fault to be found with your dress, and 
 that for thinking about it you will be more attractive in your- 
 selves, more helpful in your homes, and more useful to the world 
 at large." 
 
 " Shall we begin by disregarding fashions ?" asked Grace. 
 
 " That old preacher from whom you read said not," said 
 Belinda. 
 
 " Fashion must be brought to the bar of common-sense, and 
 must be tried by the laws of health, honesty and charity; if she 
 has transgressed none of these, in a new device, then she has a 
 right to promulgate it." 
 
 " But I thought dress was a mere matter of good taste," 
 observed the eldest Miss Black. 
 
 " Good taste will be secured when we meet the requirements 
 of health, honesty and charity." 
 
 " Do you think," asked Miss Black, " that it is a sin to wear 
 ear-rings?" 
 
 " Not a sin," I replied, "if they are paid for. But I do not 
 think that they a/e in good taste." 
 
 "And in what respects not ? " 
 
 " First, they are a relic of barbarism, which pierces the flesh 
 to introduce ornaments. The grossest form of this injury of the 
 body to ornament it, is in tattooing. Next, the piercing- the ear 
 
4X8 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 all around its rim, piercing the nose and the hps to introduce 
 rings or bars of jewelry — indeed, the fashion described by some 
 African travellers, of stretching the lips entirely out of shape for 
 rings and bars of metal, must be more hideous than any 
 tattooing. Second, if the ear is beautifully made in itself, it is 
 an ornament to the human head, which will only be marred by 
 piercing it: the ring will injure its shape or otherwise detract 
 from its beauty. Third, if the ear is less than perfect in its 
 shape, then the ring simply attracts attention to its lack of 
 beauty. If there is any coarseness in the skin, or lack of grace 
 in contour, then the jewelry makes this more apparent; while 
 if complexion and outline are perfect, then 'beauty unadorned 
 is adorned the most ; ' anything violently intruded upon them, 
 as the cutting of the flesh for the reception of a bauble, takes 
 away something of their perfections. It is said that the Chapel 
 of the De Medicean Tombs, in Florence, is more beautiful 
 than beauty; if that is true in that case, it is in no other." 
 
 "Aunt Sophronia," said Grace, "we are always quarrelling 
 here, in a mild way, about frizzes. Do settle that for us." 
 
 " If I settled it for you to-day, you would be all back to your 
 own opinions to-morrow. However, I am quite ready to give 
 you my views as to hair-dressing in general. First, then, great 
 neatness should be observed in regard to the hair. Nature 
 intended it as an ornament. It is several times mentioned in 
 the Bible as a rare beauty. All the painters and sculptors have 
 delighted in portraying it in grace and luxuriance. We should 
 respect our own personal adornments and appearance, and try 
 to improve them lawfully. All dyes and articles, to change the 
 color of the hair, should be avoided as both dangerous and in 
 bad taste. Nostrums for increasing its growth, restoring it, 
 and so forth, are generally dangerous, as having in them lead 
 and other poisons which are bad for the health, and in a variety 
 of cases have produced skin diseases, paralysis, or disease of 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 419 
 
 the brain : avoid all these restoratives, renewers and invig- 
 orators of any kind. Use on the hair cold water, plenty of 
 brushing, and clean it when needful with a little tepid water and 
 ammonia, rinsing it with tepid water and bay rum, and wiping 
 and brushing it dry. All very tight or small braiding, all 
 curling dH irons, or with hot tongs, all crimping it on wires, 
 bits of tin, hair-pins, or with hot pencils, is very injurious; it 
 stiiTens the hair, robbing it of its natural gloss and flexibility, 
 and it burns and splits the ends, preventing further growth. 
 The snds of the hair should occasionally be trimmed off with 
 the scissors, and the hair of children should be cut short until 
 they are ten or eleven years old. After fevers, or cases of. 
 severe illness, it is well to cut the hair short to produce a fresh 
 and E.ilken growth. Every person in dressing the hair should 
 regard the method which will be becoming to their own faces, 
 whether that method is the fashion or not. The fashion may be 
 to roll the hair back from the face, but some people with very 
 high, broad foreheads and prominent eyes, would have their 
 appearance much injured by this fashion. Now beauty is a gift 
 of God, and we should be glad to look as well as we can. 
 A.gain, '4ie fashion may be to bring the hair well down over the 
 forehead, but with some people the forehead is the prettiest 
 feature, which it is a pity thus to conceal. So let every one 
 arrange their hair to suit their own faces. People should 
 always take time enough to dress the hair neatly ; but I put it 
 to your common-sense, is it right for a reasonable soul, set by 
 God in a world full of work, to* stand for hours before a glass 
 dressing the hair ? What good will the time thus spent be to 
 them, or to any one else ? I also commend it to your thinking, 
 how deplorable it is for any woman, old or young, to come 
 down among her family in the morning, her front-hair twisted 
 up in colored papers, or over strips of tin, her back-hair 
 unbrushed, drawn hurriedly into an ungainly bunch, ends 
 
420 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 dangling, stray hairs flying, dust lying on the hair, and thus 
 made hideous, she sits a sort of spectre at the family-table, 
 spends the morning cv.t iKr work, and by afternoon, or perhaps 
 at nearly evening, she takes out tins and papers, frizzles and 
 braids, curls and elaborates for strangers, possible guests, as 
 she would not do for her own family; and she comes to the 
 tea-table looking very fine, while at breakfast she was a most 
 untidy spectacle. Is breakfast so unworthy a meal ? Is the 
 image to be left for the day in the mind of father, husband or 
 brother of so little consequence ? And, lastly, as to dressing 
 the hair — is it right, is it becoming to modest maids, to women 
 professing religion, to elaborate and tower up their hair, their 
 own and quantities bought, filling it out with rats and cushions, 
 folds, puffs, bands, braids, curls, loops, frizzes, to attract the 
 gaze of people, kin and strangers, promiscuously, to the face ? 
 Behold the extremes: the woman of the Orient hides her face 
 under a big veil, as if to be seen were pollution ; the woman of 
 the Occident draws her hair far from her face, decorates it in a 
 fashion to attract all eyes, sets her hat as far as possible from her 
 countenance, and goes out, intent on being stared at." 
 
 The girls all laughed, and some of them blushed. 
 
 " What have you to say about high-heeled boots — real high, 
 narrow, French heels ? We are always disputing over them," 
 said Belinda. 
 
 " They are among the most dangerous things in the world." 
 
 " Oh, they're not dangerous when you are used to them. 
 You can soon walk on them without trippin^j." 
 
 " It is when you have got used to them that they are most 
 dangerous. The human figure was meant to stand erect, well 
 planted upon its ifeet: whatever throws the body out of this 
 ordained equipoise disturbs nearly all of its functions. These 
 high, narrow heels — placed not under the heel, but far forward 
 ander the foot — destroy the proper position of the spinal column 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 42I 
 
 in walking. With this column you must know that our nerves 
 are closely connected. To these high and ill-placed heels, 
 which destroy the balance of the body, may be attributed much 
 of the prevalent spinal disease, a very large proportion of 
 the diseases and weakness of the eye, and not a few cases of 
 Insanity. A famous oculist, one of the most famous in the. 
 world, when a patient goes to him, instead of first looking at the 
 eye, says : 'Allow me to see your feet ; ' and if he sees a high- 
 heel, a narrow, ill-placed heel, he says: 'Go and get a pair of 
 shoes with low, squarely-set heels put under the heel of your 
 foot, and then I will examine into your eye trouble, and begin to 
 prescribe. I can do nothing for eyes where the spine is so 
 thrown out of place by improper shoes.' The posture of the 
 figure, forced upon the wearers of these shoes, is ungraceful in 
 the extreme, and so is the gait. None of the old art masters 
 ever chiselled or drew such figures as topple above a modern 
 boot. The poets did not mean this plunging, tottering pace 
 when they said : 
 
 " 'And in her step the goddess was revealed.' " 
 
 " These high-heeled boots are generally too tight, among their 
 other faults," said Mary Watkins. " We laugh at the Chinese 
 for squeezing their feet, and then we squeeze our own ; and 
 between putting the foot in a false position for its work, 
 throwing the weight on the front of the foot, and then cramping 
 that, I think the, feet of many American women are as badly 
 treated as those of Chinese women." 
 
 " I think," said Sara, " that this propensity of human beings 
 to pinch and compress some part of their bodies must be a 
 temptation of the evil one to harm that which is made in God's 
 image, and which he has pronounced very good. There is a 
 tribe of Indians which presses the head out of shape; the 
 Chinese devote their deforming proclivities to the feet;- and 
 
422 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 nations Called civilized, especially the English, French and 
 Americans, crowd and compress the waist. Which is worse ? " 
 
 "To compress the waist is .surely worse than to squeeze the 
 feet," said Mary, " for there we displace and hinder the action of 
 organs more vital ; we interfere with circulation, digestion and 
 breathing, destroying possibilities of good blood ; the com- 
 plexion is ruined, being made rough and broken from watery 
 blood, or is sallow and bloodless ; the gracefulness of the step is 
 destroyed by distorting the muscles of the sides and hips ; 
 people are languid, short-breathed, faint and hysterical, all 
 because they think they are better artists than God, and know 
 better how a human figure should look." 
 
 " You cannot too strongly decry this practice of compressing 
 the waist," said Hester. " Physicians condemn it as destructive 
 of human health, and artists scout it as ruinous to human 
 beauty. When I was abroad and visited all the famous galleries 
 of pictures and statuary in France, Italy and Germany, I noticed 
 how very different the artist's idea of beauty is from that of 
 the modern mantua-maker and the modern young lady. The 
 artist draws or sculptures hair lightly waved or gracefully bound 
 about the head, conforming to its contour, and not soliciting 
 attention; the figure is erect, the shoulders thrown back, the 
 head well poised, not thrown forward from the hips at an angle 
 of thirty degrees, with the chin thrust into the air, as modern 
 high heels demand ; the waist has its free, natural curves, well 
 developed, no narrowness, no sudden drawing in like the 
 hideous body of a wasp, which many women apparently con- 
 sider a model of beauty. One would think humanity had been 
 striving to render itself, as far as possible, unlike the ideals of 
 the old masters." 
 
 " It is all very well, Hester, for you to talk," said Miss Black, 
 " when you have a figure which needs no helping : you and 
 Grace Winton can afford to let your figures be as they were 
 made." 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 423 
 
 " Perhaps the whole secret of that is," said Hester, " that 
 Grace and I have never given our figures any hindering; they 
 grew as God made _ them, as anybody's might do. I doubt if 
 there is any one in this room, except Grace and myself, who. 
 from childhood, never had any tight or compressing article of 
 dress." 
 
 " Now," cried Belinda, " I want to hear what Aunt Sophronia 
 thinks of trains, long-trained gowns — things I doat on ! " 
 
 " I'm sorry that you do," I said, " for I shall condemn your 
 hobby at once. If trains are ever admissible, they belong to 
 elderly ladies of somewhat stately figure, who use them for 
 afternoon wear in their own houses, where there is no dust and 
 dirt to make them revolting, or for such ladies at evening 
 parties. The train is, from its weight and from its dragging 
 upon the back, owing to its resistance as it sweeps over objects, 
 a very disadvantageous thing for health. It impedes free 
 motion, and falling about in wet weather in the streets, collects 
 dampness around the feet and ankles. The train is wasteful and 
 extravagant ; it is seriously in the way of its wearer and of other 
 people, while, as it becomes draggled, dirty, wet, and frayed 
 from wear, it is an object abominable to behold. It Is one of 
 those styles of dress, like huge hoops, enormous bustles, and 
 great chignons, designed to attract attention, a thing which no 
 womanly woman should desire to do. Besides, I think a train 
 is not modest for street wear. The train is caught up in one 
 hand ; in so doing, the train and the side of the dress are lifted 
 often far above the ankles in a way really immodest. If a 
 person appeared on the streets with a dress as far from the 
 ground as the dress is frequently lifted by the train-wearer, she 
 would be liable to insults, possibly to arrest. A dress hanging 
 easily and gracefully, and clearing the ground in its entire cir- 
 cumference, is the only reasonable style of walking-dress for a 
 lady. Such a dress is healthful, clean, does not weight the 
 
42 i THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 wearer, does not impede the step, nor occupy the hands; the 
 chest and arms can be freely and naturally carried. The trouble 
 i"^, that women do not stop to consider what is suitable to its use, 
 to their own means, and to their own appearance ; but they are 
 carried away by an idea of fashion, so that women professing 
 godliness are ruled in so very important a matter as dress by 
 fashion which knows no godliness, and which may promulgate 
 styles which were invented by very ungodly women indeed. 
 But, my dear girls, do you not see that you might question 
 what I thought of this, that, and the other item of dress, and 
 my opinion would simply be an opinion ? In a few hours your 
 preferences or your prejudices would forget my arguments, even 
 if they had at first commended themselves to you : you would 
 furnish yourselves with new reasons for your previous course. 
 What we need, is not to clip at externals, at branches, but to 
 strike at roots. There must be great underlying principles upon 
 which to rest; we must, as I told you, argue of our dress on the 
 grounds of healthfulness, honesty and charity, and when in all 
 these respects a fashion is unimpeachable, then we are right in 
 adopting it." 
 
 It was now tea-time, and Mrs. Burr came to the back parlor, 
 saying : " Miss Sophronia, you have abandoned us elders to-day 
 to fall into scandal, gossip, slander, to quarrel over our minister, 
 to devour each other : the evil will lie at your door." 
 
 I am not afraid," I replied, " for in these respects all of you 
 ladies are a Committee of the Public Safety." 
 
 Shortly after this my nieces were spending an afternoon with 
 me, and this subject of dress was renewed. I said that it was a 
 subject which concerned greatly the happiness and well-being 
 of home. Dress had much to do with health, and health was 
 one of the most important home questions. Extravagance in 
 dress had a sad effect on the prosperity of a home ; households 
 had been ruined in reputation and in fortune by extravagance, 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 425 
 
 ambition and emulation in dress; neatness in dress added much 
 to the cheerfulness and beauty of home ; a thoughtful avoidance 
 of over-dress made our neighbors, especially those of narrow 
 means, more comfortable in church, and in companies or social) 
 gatherings where we met them. I have known women who] 
 were confirmed invalids, from a foolish, dangerous style of 
 dressing. I knew of a mother who lost five of her children 
 with croup, death constantly shadowing her household ; and this 
 mother, while in good circumstances, yet applied so little com- 
 mon-sense to dress, that her delicate children wore no flannels, 
 and went with bare neck and arms in the winter! Another 
 mother of my acquaintance lost all her six children with scarlet 
 fever, losing them two by two in several successive winters ; 
 these children, elaborately dressed, went around the house and 
 out walking, with two or three inches of bare blue leg exposed 
 between the short stocking and the embroidered band at their 
 knees. 
 
 An acquaintance of mine was so mad after extravagant dress 
 for herself and daughters that, without the knowledge of her 
 husband, she ran up a debt of two thousand dollars at one store, 
 for dry goods, and to settle this her husband was obliged to 
 give up a lot which he had toiled hard to purchase, and which 
 would within six years have been worth ten thousand dollars to 
 him. This woman's daughters all married, and the husband of 
 each one became a bankrupt. Another person whom I have in 
 my mind was of a saving, industrious turn, with very little idea 
 of fitness or beauty. She would go about all day with her hair 
 rough and untidy ; no collar or cuffs, a soiled kitchen apron, or 
 an ungainly frock, her shoes broken and trodden down at the 
 heel. Her husband became afraid to invite a friend to go home 
 with him, being almost certain to find his wife too untidy to be 
 seen ; her children, as soon as they were grown, experienced the 
 same shame ; all began to stay away from home to find friends, 
 
426 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 and the household was entirely destitute of family comfort or of 
 home-feeling. Such instances as these should show us that 
 dress has much to do with the happiness and prosperity of home, 
 and consequently we should make it a study regarding its 
 bearing on health, honesty, charity. 
 
 "I wish," said Helen, "that you would discuss it practical'\ 
 for my benefit as regards health." 
 
 " Dress," I resumed, " is designed for covering, for main- 
 taining a proper warmth in our bodies, and in so doing to leave 
 our muscular action free and unimpeded. If we look at the 
 lower orders of animals, we shall see that the clothing which 
 grows upon them is altered in its warmth from season to season : 
 the horse thins out his hair, and the bird his feather-coat in the 
 hot weather; not an animal has a covering which checks 
 growth, motion, respiration, circulation. Did God mean man to 
 be worse off in his clothing than a brute ? He is left to provide 
 his own clothing, and given facilities for so doing, that this 
 clothing may scrupulously suit his conditions. We should 
 change our garments with the changes of season : not fancy that 
 we can harden ourselves to going all the year round with the 
 same amount of underclothes. We should reason that a kind 
 of underclothes which would prevent our feeling sudden changes 
 in temperature would be suitable to us, so that the falling dew, 
 a thunder-gust, a cold wind, would not chill us, producing, 
 possibly, a dangerous congestion. In winter, we should wear 
 heavy flannels; in autumn and spring, those that are lighter; 
 in summer, a thin, gauze flannel, but some undergarment of this 
 kind should be always worn. The feet should be well pro- 
 tected. Fashion may prescribe thin shoes, but common-sense 
 says. No : shoes must be thick enough to keep out dampness, 
 and the chill of cold pavements. The head needs a screen. 
 Fashion says. Put the bonnet far off from the face, leaving the 
 top of the head and the ears exposed to the heat, light or cold. 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 427 
 
 Deafness and weak eyes prevail marvellously, and people com- 
 plain of their misfortunes. Rather, this is their fault, because 
 they did not regard their dress in its relationship to health. 
 Clothes should not be too heavy, dragging on back and hips, 
 and producing spinal and other diseases. They should be 
 made of fabrics warm enough without being weighty, and there 
 should not be loaded upon them a mass of trimming, which 
 wearies the wearer more than to do a day's work. The weight 
 of the clothes should be borne by the shoulders, which in their 
 formation are fitted to sustain burdens, and will not be harmed 
 by a reasonable amount. Our dress should be more plentiful 
 out-of-doors than in-doors, and when riding than when walking. 
 The throat should be protected in cold, damp or windy weather. 
 Some seasons fashion allows a throat to be dressed high, and 
 other seasons demands that it should be open and exposed to 
 all inclemency of the temperature. But the throat does not 
 vary with these changes, and needs as much protection at one 
 time as at another. In-doors, too, in stormy, penetrating 
 weather, we should add to our clothes. It is idle to say 'it 
 looks foolish ' to get an extra wrap on a day when we do not 
 feel comfortably warm : it looks wise to preserve as far as pos- 
 sible an even temperature. The fashions for children vary in a 
 way reckless of infantile life. One while, they wear reasonable 
 stockings, high over the knees, and dresses up to the throats, 
 and sleeves down to the wrists, and high boots ; then, with 
 chests, and legs, and necks well covered, they are comfortable, 
 and their health is in a large measure secured. At other times, 
 bare legs, necks and arms are the style, and the little unfor- 
 tunates shiver into croup and scarlet fever. Dress your chil- 
 dren warmly and healthfully, no matter what fashion says. 
 Even in summer do not expose bare necks and arms to evening 
 air. Also, keep a pair of long, woollen stockings on hand, so 
 that if a cold comes to them in summer, or they are attacked 
 
428 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 with any disease of the stomach, or anything akin to cholera 
 morbus, the woollen stockings may at once be put on. Dress 
 should never compress the part of the body it covers : tight 
 arm-holes, tight boots, tight waists, tight bands and belts are all 
 njurious. They hinder the free circulation of blood, the action 
 Df heart, lungs and digestive organs ; cause headaches, dyspepsia, 
 lung diseases and other complaints. Let any person, who has 
 worn tight clothing, put on for a week loose but well-supported 
 clothes, not garments which slip about and feel as if they would 
 drop off, and as soon as the first discomfort of change is gone, 
 the relief from pressure will be so marked and delightful as to 
 assure one of its usefulness. When you intend to buy, or have 
 made, any article of dress, ask yourself whether it is suitable for 
 its purpose in covering, whether in lightness and easiness of fit 
 it will ayoid all compression or dragging of the muscles, 
 whether it will be warm enough for the season and place where 
 it is to be worn." 
 
 Mary Watkins had not come with my nieces that day, but 
 she heard from them something of the talk; and as I was 
 dsiting her within a week or two, she told me she would be 
 glad to have me give her my views of dress, as it regarded 
 honesty. 
 
 "Our honesty," I said, "concerns our dealings with God and 
 with our fellow-men. We owe God a part of our substance -, 
 however little we have, we owe a par': of that little to God. 
 Among the Hebrews poverty did not exempt from offering 
 sacrifice; but i'j regulated the value of the sacrifice: the prince 
 could offer a bullock, the poor woman a young pigeon. We 
 give according to our ability, but we must give something. 
 This is a duty; we should also feel it to be a privilege. Thei^- 
 fore the first proposition concerning dress as it regards honesty 
 will be, that we must not spend so much in proportion to our 
 means, on our dress, that we cannot give something to the 
 
ATTE.NTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 429 
 
 service of God. Honesty to our fellow-creatures in our dress 
 demands first that we shall not dress better than we can afford, 
 so that we shall be in debt for our dress. What right have I to 
 wear a velvet cloak at the expense of the storekeeper for material, 
 and the dressmaker for making it ? I might as well be a beggar 
 out-and-out, and go and ask them to give me a coat ; indeed it 
 would be far more honorable to squarely beg for it, than to obtain 
 it on false pretences, pretending that I am able to pay for it, 
 and mean to pay for it, when I cannot. Honesty in our dress 
 demands that all that we have in material and making should 
 be paid for promptly, but it requires more than this. If I 
 am possessed of no capital, and am earning three, five, seven 
 hundred dollars a year, I have no right to lay out that much 
 each year. If I spend all that I have, and do not get in debt, I 
 am not dealing really honestly with the community, for every 
 hour I am liable to meet with an accident, to fall ill, to become 
 blind or crippled, and so be a pauper on society, forcing my 
 fellows to take care of me. Even if through all the ordinary 
 working years of my life I am a bread-winner, still age is likely 
 to come; few able-bodied people die in harness, and for age, 
 honesty to our fellows demands that we should make a pro- 
 vision. Therefore, we are not regarding scrupulous honesty in 
 our expenditures when we live up to the limit of our income, 
 without overstepping it, for we are bound in honesty to con- 
 stantly prer-erve a margin, to lay up some proper provision, 
 although it may be a slender one, which will provide for us in 
 old age, or in incapability from any cause. 
 
 " So you see, Mary, you must, when you consider your dress 
 on the ground of honesty, dress so that you can give something 
 to God's work, so that you can pay for all that you buy, and 
 that you shall not dress so well as to prevent your frugally lay- 
 ing by something for time of need. If people scrupulously 
 
 regarded honesty in their dress, they would be removed from 
 28 
 
430 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 this painful emulation in fashion, which makes so many people 
 miserable. The question with them would be — not what every 
 one has or does, but, ' What is suitable to my own means and 
 position ?' People would get on that honorable ground of being 
 laws unto and judges for themselves. The young clerk in a 
 store would not feel that she must dress like the banker's wife 
 who comes to her counter ; the young girl in the safe, sensible 
 society of the country, whose walks lie through rural roads, or 
 in quiet village streets, would not feel possessed to get those 
 flaunting styles which some fashion paper declares to her are 
 worn on Broadway or Chestnut street. Let her consider that 
 she is not to appear on those streets ; that she fortunately has 
 something to do in this world more than to idle, worry and grow 
 old before her time ; that her father's means are represented 
 in land and cattle, and not in bank stock, and that it is not 
 needful for her to spend every cent of her ready money in 
 dress. 
 
 " Now, Mary, these sober, common-sense views of what we 
 shall wear are not likely to be assumed in a day when we are 
 grown up ; they should grow up with us. If our women are to 
 dress healthfully, honestly, charitably, then our girls must be 
 brought up to have right views of dress, and to think right 
 thoughts about it. Begin with your children, in precept, 
 example, and practice. Don't bring up the little girl to value 
 people for what they have on ; to centre all her little thoughts 
 upon clothes ; to make dress the staple of her conversation. Let 
 her think with simplicity about dress, and then she will dress 
 with simplicity, and simplicity is a thing beautiful in itself, like 
 clear light. Let your child's dress be so comfortable, so plenti- 
 ful, so suitable to the time and place and need, so tasteful, and, 
 urithal, so plain, that it will seem to her a part of herself, a matter 
 of course, and she will not think of it in fretfulness, or vanity, or 
 Dver-carefulness, but by the time she has grown up it will have 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. ^\ 
 
 become a habit with her to apply her reason, her common-sense, 
 to her dress, and to have it in accordance with the laws of health, 
 honesty and charity. Mothers little think when they lavish, in 
 the hearing of their children, praises on people's clothing, admi- 
 ration on 'children who are so elegantly dressed,' envious wishes 
 that they could procure thus and so for their children, that they 
 are training these children to make of dress and fashion an idol, 
 on the altar of which they may, in saddest truth, offer them- 
 selves in sacrifice." 
 
 Belinda Black had come in to see Mary while we were talk- 
 ing, and had taken her place beside me. She cried : " Still this 
 vexed question of dress ; what a worry it is ! Don't you think 
 it is a pity that there are not some laws to govern it — state laws, 
 say, and then we would all know just what we could and should 
 wear, and if we put on a thing, we should not be accused of 
 extravagance, nor if we left it off, of penuriousness. Suppose, 
 for instance, the law was that where people had a thousand a 
 year, they might have such and such things, and where they had 
 two, five, ten, twenty thousand, such other things. There is 
 something like that in my Telemaque, where Mentor at Salente 
 has the citizens divided up in orders, each order to wear such 
 and such texture and color of clothes. What a saving of 
 worry ! " 
 
 " I told you lately," I said, " that legislators had passed laws 
 about dress. You have reverted to the ancient idea of sump- 
 tuary laws, such as were passed by Henry VII., Henry VIII., 
 and other sovereigns, ordaining whether a man's coat was to be 
 taffetas or velvet or woollen ; how many gowns, and of what 
 material, his wife was to possess ; how many leathern breeches 
 were lawful to him, and how long might be the toes of his boots, 
 with other rules relating to his household expenses. Thesi? 
 laws fitted rather the childhood and youth of the race than its 
 sober maturity; we cannot make laws to fit the thousand and 
 
432 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 one causes and exceptions of our lives, but we can find govern- 
 ing principles whereby we are bound to try and guide oui 
 ways." 
 
 My next conversation on dress was with Miriam. She said 
 to me: 
 
 "Auiit Sophronia, is not the question of beauty to be largely 
 considered in regard to dress? Ought we not to cultivatf 
 beauty in our apparel ? " 
 
 " Certainly we ought," I replied. " It is important indeed." 
 
 "Then, where in your argument of dress, under the heads of 
 health, honesty and charity, does beauty find its place ? " 
 
 " Under the head of charity I' I replied, promptly ; " we owe it 
 to charity to be all of us as beautiful and look as beautiful as 
 we can." 
 
 " Let me hear something, then, if you please, of the way in 
 which you would reason of dress as it regards charity." 
 
 " There is no person," I said, " without some ideas of beauty 
 and fitness. All eyes rest with comfortable approbation on the 
 neat, graceful and harmonious. They may be pleased without 
 knowing why, but they are pleased none the less. The little 
 child's face lights up at sight of the ribbon-knot at its mother's 
 throat and the flower in her hair. The little boy's first knightly 
 gallantry awakens in his satisfaction at his little sister, fresh, 
 clean, smiling, though her tiny gown may be only of the poet's 
 ' sprinkled pink ; ' and in viewing his mother neat and tasteful 
 in her work, though the hair may have no ornament but its 
 own shining smoothness, and the gown may be a cheap calico, 
 if only the colors are in good taste, if fit and fashion are good, 
 if collar and knot relieve the throat. The husband, weary from 
 work in field, or office, or store, comes to his home, and sudden 
 rest falls on him like a mantle, when he sees by a neat hearth 
 children with smooth heads and clean pinafores, and the wife, 
 who has not forgotten the pretty wiles of dress wherewith she 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 433 
 
 first pleased his eye. If the lover has a pleasure in seeing^ 
 shining teeth, well-dressed hair, neat hands, a well-shod foot, a 
 throat tastefully arranged, has the husband necessarily so 
 deteriorated that he will care for none of these things? We 
 owe it of dear charity to the taste of our households, that when 
 we dress in the morning we shall put our clothes on neatly, 
 and make our persons acceptable to the eye, that when we 
 come to the table, from whatever work, wc shall come clean and 
 respectable ; not with sleeves rolled up, gown open at the throat, 
 and dirty apron. Cousin Ann has always had plenty of Work to 
 do and often hard work, but she always kept her hair and feet 
 neat, a clean collar on, and a white apron, and a knot of ribbon 
 on hand in a table-drawer, to slip on before sitting down at a 
 meal, or meeting a guest. We owe it to this family charity not 
 to sit on Sabbath, between services, arrayed in a frayed wrapper 
 and ragged slippers, on the plea that ' we are tired and nobody 
 coming : ' we shall be no more tired if we are decent. Indeed, 
 when very tired, a change of clothes and a bath are very resting ; 
 and we should always feel that our charity in dress begins at 
 home, and dress as suitably and tastefully as we can for the 
 family satisfaction. This is an example that mothers owe to 
 daughters, and mistresses to maids; a courtesy due to hus- 
 bands, fathers, sons, brothers. Pursuing this charity of decency 
 in our dress, we should beware of getting gaudy, tawdry, slazy 
 goods for clothing — things which will be soon frayed, spotted, 
 faded, and make us deplorable spectacles as we are ' wearing 
 them out.' It is better to have few clothes than very many — 
 few, but enough for all needs ; having many dresses, they 
 become old-fashioned, and we are encumbered with a quantity 
 of half-worn things. Let us be careful in keeping our clothes 
 well repaired, renewing them in style and trimming, so that 
 they will look decent as long as we wear them. A good, sub- 
 stantial article can be used respectably as long as it lasts,. and 
 
434 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 will pay for making over. Let us consider thai it is a true 
 charity to gratify good taste, and there are certain almost 
 universal laws of taste which we can gratify in our dress 
 without extravagance, or over-devotion of time and labor to 
 the subject. In buying our clothes we should buy what is 
 becoming in color, pattern and style. A large woman, or a 
 very tiny woman, looks absurd in thick, rough, heavy cloths, 
 which need a tall and moderately slender figure to carry them 
 well. A little lady looks pretty in delicately sprigged or 
 spotted lawns and linens, wherein a big lady becomes a dowdy. 
 A tall woman can wear plaids and flounces : they reduce her 
 apparent size and become her well, while they give the little 
 woman the shape of a butter-tub. Short, thick women look ill 
 in shawls, and stout women should not venture on wearing furs. 
 A fair woman is lovely in blue, but her dark sister is made ugly 
 by that beautiful color. A big, red, double-chinned face should 
 not wear a small, light, airy, delicate hat, even if such hats ' are 
 all the style : ' for the white lace, the dainty, drooping plume, the 
 spray of forget-me-nots, or hyacinths, brings broadly into relief 
 the redness, thickness, or freckles of the skin ; the small hat 
 makes the big face still more like a sunflower, or a pumpkin 
 blossom. Let the large face be framed in a hat large enough to 
 become it, wide or high to suit figure and feature ; and let the 
 dark, florid face beware of scarlet, pink or blue placed near it ; 
 so surrounded by what becomes it, the large face is handsome, 
 matronly, reposeful. Gaudy colors should not be worn in the 
 street. They are ill taste in spite of fashion. The young lady 
 can wear brighter and lighter fabrics than the mature matron. 
 Children should wear small-patterned goods. The prudent 
 housewife, intent on charity to her husband's resources, will buy 
 for herself what can possibly be afterwards tastefully used for 
 her children ; for older girls, what may be made over for their 
 juniors. A black silk, a good black alpaca, a brown linen 
 
ATTENTION TO DRESS IN THE HOME. 435 
 
 «ind a nice merino, are dresses always safe to buy, suitable to 
 almost any age, to any complexion, and to almost any circum- 
 stances. 
 
 "Another view which we can take of dress as it regards charity 
 is, that when we go to social gatherings we should consider the 
 circumstances of the host, and of the company which we are 
 likely to meet, so that by a superfluous elegance of dress we 
 shall not make some plainer neighbor feel awkward and ill- 
 dressed. If you send a child, elaborately decorated in silk, 
 embroideries and jewelry, to some child's gathering, where the 
 other little ones are in lawn or linen, you foster pride in your 
 own child, prevent its hearty play and enjoyment, and provoke 
 envy in the others. So in our church, we should take care not 
 to go notably more richly dressed than the other worshippers. 
 Indeed, for church, I admire quiet, neat, simple dress; forsaking 
 th,e pomps and vanities, the world, the flesh and the devil, and 
 appearing in the Lord's courts laden down with the world's 
 trappings, are hardly consistent. Don't dress a child or young 
 girl so gorgeously that, when she is grown up, all fashion is 
 exhausted for her, and she must weep and perplex herself for 
 more worlds to' conquer. For ornaments use many flowers: 
 a spray of leaves or flowers is in order anywhere, from the 
 family breakfast to the evening party. Ribbons of becoming 
 hue, and fresh and unsoiled, are also suitable everywhere, with 
 the calico wrapper or the evening silk. Wear little jewelry; a 
 piling on of gold pins, rings, tinkling bracelets, ponderous chains, 
 is decidedly barbaric taste. Don't wear a watch to do house- 
 work. A small bow, a pearl arrow, or other ornament of jet, 
 pearl or shell, is tasteful in the hair. Neither be lavish in 
 small ornaments nor despise them, and by taking care of 
 what you have you will always be able to appear suitably 
 arrayed. Lastly, never get an article too splendid for the rest 
 of your wardrobe." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MISTRESS AND MAID IN THE HOME. 
 AUNT SOPHRONIA'S VIEWS OF OUR DUTIES TO SERVANTS. ' 
 
 HE more that I consider the affairs of Home, the more 
 am I impres.sed with the importance of the servant's 
 position. How much of our home-order, health, econ- 
 omy, cheerfulness, is dependent upon the domestic! I 
 think the interest, value and duty of this relation are too seldom 
 appreciated, its permanency is undervalued. Not only is our 
 relation to our servants, or our discharge of duty to them, a 
 matter of irriportance in our own especial households, but it is 
 of moment to society, to the state. In this relation, as in the 
 rearing of our children, the Hon.f; reaches beyond itself, and 
 builds or destroys in other home.s. 
 
 If we take a young girl into our house for a servant, and 
 find her ignorant, careless, untidy, generally the first impulse is 
 to discharge her, and find better help. But stop a moment. 
 Do we not owe this girl something — a debt of our common 
 humanity ? Possibly she is an orphan, and has had no one 
 interested to instruct her ; or she may have parents and friends 
 who are ignorant and shiftless, products of the lack of training 
 of a former generation, and they have known no good habits to 
 impart to this girl. Suppose we do send her away : who is there 
 upon whom she has a greater claim, who will take up the task 
 ihat we reject and make this girl a useful woman ? If no one 
 does this, what is to be expected ? She will be the dirty and 
 
 Wasteful wife of some poor man, confirming him in all his evij 
 
 (436) 
 
MISTRESS AND MAID IN THE HOME. 437 
 
 habits, and bringing into the world a brood of semi-beggars, 
 filthy, ragged and unschooled, to be the criminals and paupers 
 of a generation to come. How much worse is every town for 
 one such degraded family? They are drunkards, thieves, mur- 
 derers, incendiaries. What will it not cost the public to look 
 after them, from the hour when charity accords to their child- 
 hood cold victuals and cast-off clothes, through years of pau- 
 perism, tramping, criminal prosecutions, jails, hospitals, the 
 potter's field? Besides this positive loss, there will be the 
 negative loss. How much better might not the state have been 
 for these half-dozen sturdy rascals, if they had grown into 
 intelligent citizens, law-abiding heads of families, taxpayers, soil- 
 cultivators, mechanics, inventors ? We who, from indolence or 
 vexation, fail to take the part of making a young woman what 
 she should be, if there is in herself any quality to second our 
 efforts — a quality which we can elicit by persevering, kindly 
 care — are neither doing our part in the world as good citizens, ■ 
 nor as good Christians. 
 
 Again, we often have in our houses girls who are pretty good 
 worlfcrs, cleanly, pleasant ; they suit us very well, and we keep 
 them : but while they are in our family they are not ^ it; we do 
 not interest ourselves in them ; we give them no friendly counsel ; 
 we do not look forward to their future, and help them to provide 
 for it; they are lonely in our houses — that tie of home and 
 friendly interest which every woman craves is lacking to them. 
 Our daughters, young friends, and relatives, who are in them- 
 selves better instructed by reading, example, and observation, 
 we carefully prepare for their future home-life, guard their ac- 
 quaintanceships, are anxious lest they marry too hastily, or throw 
 themselves away ; but we do not think of these things for our 
 maid. So presently, left unwarned and uncounselled, without 
 confidants or guardians, she marries when there are no savings 
 wherewith to start a home; when she has no substantial ward 
 
438 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 robe; no little store of bedding, and household linen, and 
 crockerj.-; when she is indeed too young to assume the cares of 
 married life ; when the one small room which will be her home 
 is but half-furnished; and so before her will lie a life of poverty, 
 toil, discouragement, children for whom she cannot provide, 
 possibly beggary ; and again by our negligence the home, which 
 might be a blessing and a tower of strength, is never built ; the 
 town has one less flourishing household, and one more family 
 perpetually on the verge of ruin; the state just so many less 
 efficient citizens. The trouble is that we forget in considering 
 our servants our common womanhood ; they are viewed by us 
 as chattels, as animated machines to perform for us such and 
 such offices, and, in regarding them, we forget the human tie, 
 that God has made of one blood all the nations of the earth; 
 that in Christ we and our servants may become kin ; that the 
 believing servant may be received by us as Onesimus by Phile- 
 • mon — as a brother beloved. 
 
 There are differences, it is true — differences in station, in habits 
 of thought, in associations, in methods of pleasure ; these differ- 
 ences are neither for our making nor for our abrogating, nor are 
 they necessarily for discomfort, and regretting on either hand, if 
 each, as mistres^ and maid, does duty honestly, and cordially 
 respects the position of the other. 
 
 I often hear Mrs. Black using the expression, " Nobody but 
 the servants," very much as if she would indicate nobody at all. 
 Now Mrs. Black is not an unkindly woman, but she regards her 
 servants and speaks of them very much as one would of a horse 
 or a cow; she seems entirely to forget a common humanity. I 
 told her once that this struck me painfully; I thought it was un- 
 just to the servant as an individual, unjust to ourselves who had 
 the same organs, emotions, manner of birth, human ties, prospect 
 of death, and possessed immortality; and unjust to God, who 
 made us all of one blood, and in one image — his image, in fac-v 
 
MISTRESS AND MAID IN THE HOME. 4.39 
 
 and the image is His, whether cast in clay more or less lefined, 
 as a statuette might be a copy of the Venus of the I.ouvre, 
 whether the statuette were moulded in common clay, in iron- 
 stone ware, in china, porcelain, or best Sevres. 
 
 I said : " Does it make Martha less human, less an individual, 
 to be respected and sympathized with, that the Lord gave het 
 to begin with larger hands, stronger muscles, and more simple 
 tastes and surroundings than mine? so that these largely 
 developed muscles and narrower tastes, united to her sturdy 
 honesty and valiant common-sense, have put her for years in 
 the position of an invaluable maid, to whom I try to be a reason- 
 able and sympathizing mistress." 
 
 " It is easy enough for you to talk that way. Miss Sophronia," 
 said Mrs. Black : " everybody knows what a model servant 
 Martha is; if you had my servants to deal with, you would 
 change your views, I fancy. Here's Martha — been with you 
 fifteen years or more, and my girls I get so exasperated with 
 that I rush into the kitchen and discharge them about once in 
 six months, and new ones prove no better." 
 
 " If I had discharged Martha at the end of six months, she 
 would not have been here for fifteen years," I said. " She was 
 not half as valuable to me the first year as now. Six months is 
 hardly enough to get thoroughly into the ways of a household; 
 certainly not enough to attain a fixed, vital and affectionate in- 
 terest in it and all its members. These virtues in a domestic 
 are matters of natural growth ; they do not spring fully armed 
 out of her head as Minerva from the head of Jove. Do you not 
 think some of .ttie defects which irritate you in your servants 
 might be conquered by your keeping them longer, and educat- 
 ing them in your ways, and also by your feeling more human 
 sympathy with them; showing that interest; trying to interest 
 them in their work and in you ; letting them feel as if they had 
 a friend in the house ; as if the house was, while they remained 
 
440 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 in it, their home? Perhaps they see that you do not expect 
 them to do very well ; that you ^re on the watch for faults rather 
 than for virtues. Suppose you treat them with confidence and 
 consideration; do not blame them hastily; something that ha^ 
 been done wrong — some breakage, or loss, or careless act — may 
 not be theirs at all, and it will seem hard to them to be regarded 
 as naturally the ill-doers — the black sheep of the household. 
 
 " More or less, we must trust our servants ; they come into 
 the inner life of the home in such a manner that, by all the 
 members of the family, they must, in a measure, be trusted ; it 
 cannot be helped that they shall hear what we say ; see what we 
 do; understand our circumstances, our losses, our possessions; 
 suspect many things which perhaps we thought quite out of the 
 range of their knowledge. Now thus placed, no quality in them 
 is more valuable than trustworthiness , and there is nothing which 
 more develops this than to be trusted. If we persist in regard- 
 ing our servants as spies, gossips and foes, it is likely that they 
 will continue spies, gossips and foes "to the end of the chapter ; 
 more than we fancy, we are able to create that in which we be- 
 lieve. True, believing a servant honest does not always make 
 them so, and very trustful employers have often been egregiously 
 deceived; but we never yet made any one better by believing 
 them to be bad, and good treatment, good example, and good 
 instruction, will go far toward creating for us good servants, 
 even out of originally poor materials." 
 
 I have always considered Cousin Ann a model in her manage- 
 ment of her servants. I tell her this sometimes, but she says it 
 is much easier to have good servants in the country than in the 
 city. There is less temptation there for them to hurry their 
 work, so that they may run off They have less intercourse 
 with companions who may be idle and injurious. When their 
 work is done, their time is occupied in reasonable occupations, 
 fts reading, and making and mending their clothes; and this 
 
M/STJiESS AND MAID IN THE HOME. 441 
 
 gives thoughtfulness and stability to their character, and puts 
 them on the road to thrift and thoroughness. This is doubtless 
 all true. But I have seen excellent servants in the city, and 
 very poor ones in the country, and I believe in the old adage, 
 'A good mistress makes a good maid." 
 
 I have, when visiting Cousin Ann, and especially when I 
 passed a winter with her, carefully observed her ways with hei 
 servants, and I have arrived at certain rules by which she guides 
 her sway. 
 
 First. She intends to respect her servants in their places, 
 and so she clearly gives them to understand that they must be 
 respectable. Lying, rudeness, uncleanliness, vulgarity in word 
 or act, are not respectable, and, therefore, the servant must 
 eschew all these. 
 
 Second. Cousin Ann sets herself the example of what she 
 would have her servant be. She .never deceives nor equiv- 
 ocates. She is never rude nor ungracious in her order or her 
 reproofs. She is exquisitely tidy and orderly. While respecting 
 others, she means herself to be respected. She has a quiet 
 dignity, removed alike from familiarity and from haughtiness. 
 She is calm and kindly. 
 
 Third. She makes obedience to her wishes possible. She 
 does not hurry the servant, so that she cannot get tidily- 
 through with her work. She does not bid her be cleanly, and 
 so crowd her with labor that there is no time for her to bathe, 
 comb her hair, dress neatly, make, wash and mend her clothes, 
 and set in order her room. 
 
 Fourth. She makes her servants feel how important to the 
 well-being of the whole house their good conduct and good 
 work may be. She does not hector them with trivial directions, 
 but she teaches thoroughly and once for all what she wishes 
 done, and she gives them fundamental rules. 
 
 Fifth. She remembers that, like other people, her servants are 
 
442 "^^^ COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 imperfect, that human bodies, and minds, and hearts may get 
 out of order. When they are ill, or even a little ailing, she 
 bestows rest, freedom from work, nursing and doctoring, as she 
 would to any other member of the family in proportion to the 
 needs of the case. She does not ask needless questions. She 
 awaits confidence rather than demands it, respecting individual 
 secrets and sorrows. She yields ready sympathy with their 
 troubles, is not easily offended by accidents or by little nervous- 
 ness; and when the usually kind-tempered, willing servant 
 appears in a new character, as flustered, cross, hasty of speech, 
 she quietly arranges a change of work, a holiday, a little treat 
 of some kind, to relieve the unknown pain lying at the root of 
 this exhibition. I remember once when I was there, Cousin 
 Ann's servant seemed pettish and careless for several days, and 
 finally spoke very impertinently to her mistress. Some ladies 
 would have reproached her, told her that she had been put up 
 with for days, and have then discharged her. Cousin Ann, on 
 the contrary, said, calmly: 
 
 " Harriet, you are quite forgetting yourself You have 
 seemed to feel worried at something for several days. You do 
 not usually act in this manner. Possibly, if you told me what 
 the matter was, I could help you. I should be glad to do so. 
 It is much better to be helped to do right, than to allow our- 
 selves to do wrong." 
 
 Harriet sat down and burst into a flood of tears. Having 
 cried for a while she became quieter, and Cousin Ann said, 
 kindly : 
 
 " Well, Harriet, what is it ? " 
 
 Then out came the trouble. Harriet had a lover. She had 
 supposed him to be a decent young man. She had found out 
 that he drank, and had been off on a wild spree. He wanted to 
 be taken into favor. " If I give him the cold shoulder," sobbed 
 Harriet, " he'll go off and marry Mary McMannus. And I da 
 
MISTRESS AND MAID IN THE HOME. 443 
 
 care for him, but I'm afraid of drunkards! Didn't my own 
 lather drink, and break my mother's heart, and chase m.e out in 
 the snow, until it was well for us that he died i But, oh, what 
 will 1 do, disappointed as I am ? " 
 
 Only a servant girl's little love-story and bitter disappoint- 
 ment ; possibly some would have passed it by carelessly. 
 
 Cousin Ann sat down by her maid and said, in true sym- 
 pathy : " Harriet, I am very sorry for you, and I will advise you 
 as I would my daughter. Don't marry a man who drinks. If 
 he does not love you well enough to reform for the sake of 
 securing you, he will not love you well enough to be kind, nor 
 to provide for you, nor for your children. It is hard to be 
 disappointed in a lover, but much harder to be disappointed in a 
 husband. How would you repent marrying a drunkard, ii you 
 found yourself a beggar, perhaps maimed by him in some 
 drunken row, or saw little children starved, beaten or driven out 
 into the cold night! Be brave, Harriet, to do what is right! 
 Now you can be self-supporting, safe and respectable. If you 
 married a drunkard, nothing would be left you but misery and 
 regret. Now, Harriet, you are tired and excited with your 
 trouble and crying: suppose you go to your room and lie down 
 a while. And on the table in my room there is a little red 
 book which I will give you, and I wish you would get it as you 
 go by, and read it through before you make up your mind on 
 this matter." 
 
 This little book, as I learned, was a story of a girl who 
 married a drunkard. 
 
 Cousin Ann's womanly kindness not only saved her a good 
 servant, for Harriet lived with her for four years after this, but it 
 saved Harriet to herself Her lover did not reform. She 
 discarded him. A miserable sot, he is now in jail for arson; 
 while Harriet has married a very good man who works for 
 Reed, and has as nice a home and two as pretty children as are 
 to be seen anywhere. 
 
i4A THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 A sixth rule with Cousin Ann is to require obedience to hei 
 orders, and an adherence to her plans and wishes in her house. 
 She holds the reins and guides her household, and allows no 
 contravening of her plans. She does not permit negligence to 
 pass unrebuked, or, finding a thing ill done, do it herself, and so 
 confirm in her maid the careless habit. When a fault is com- 
 mitted, she is prompt on the spot to set it right. She does not 
 wait a week and then cast it up. 
 
 These rules of Cousin Ann's I have tried to impress upon my 
 young friends for their guidance in managing their servants. 
 I remember, when Miriam first hired a grown servant, she came 
 to me in a great deal of perplexity. For two years Miriam did 
 her own work ; then she took little Ann from me, Martha's 
 niece, who had become a very useful maid, and a year and a 
 half later she hired a grown girl. She came to consult me, 
 saying : 
 
 "Aunt, I don't want to have trouble with my servants, and this 
 perpetual changing. How, shall I manage them ? Mrs. Black 
 has just been warning me that I must not allow any visitors." 
 
 "What are you going to hire," I asked — "a machine or a 
 human being ? " 
 
 " Why, a very respectable young woman," said Miriam. 
 
 "And where is the respectable young woman," I said, " who 
 was made without a heart or capacity for friendship ? If she is 
 a good young woman, she will have friends of some kind to love ; 
 because p-eople are servants they are not made without parents, 
 sisters, aunts, or other relatives to care for. They have their 
 little interests : they want to know how the neighbor's sick baby 
 is, and what new dresses the cousin, who is to be married, is 
 making, and if the little nephew looks well in his first trowsers, 
 and whether the grandmother's rheumatism is better. It is 
 barbarity to take a young woman into your house to work, 
 jrourself meanwhile not expecting to be her companion, and 
 
MISTJiESS AND MAW IN THE HOME. 445 
 
 then saying to her : ' I do not approve of servants having 
 friends.' " 
 
 " What shall I do ? That does seem cruel, but Mrs. Black 
 says if I am not careful that my kitchen will be full of visitors, 
 that the work will be neglected for gossip, that there will be 
 diseases brought to the children, that the visitors will be 
 constantly taking meals and carrying off things. You know^ 
 aunt, I do not want to be stingy, but I must economize, and I 
 cannot allow waste." 
 
 " That is all true, my dear, but there is a happy mean in all 
 things. You expect to give your servant a part of Sunday, 
 and a part of Thursday afternoon, unless something unforeseen 
 interferes now and then with this liberty. Thus she will have 
 twice a week to see her friends. She will have occasional 
 evenings out. When you engage the girl, tell her strictly and 
 clearly at what hour you wish her to return on these occasions, 
 and tell her this hour must not be overstepped. Tell her that 
 you do not like much company, nor company during working 
 hours ; but that she is welcome to see her relatives and nice 
 quiet friends at proper times, if they leave at the hour which you 
 sei for closing your house, and there are not too many at once, or 
 those who are noisy. Tell her, also, that you will rely on her 
 to see only those friends of whom her near relatives and her 
 conscience will approve. You can then kindly notice how 
 matters go, and see that your rules are obeyed. Don't establish 
 unnatural conditions and needless restrictions : they force people 
 toward deceit and disobedience." 
 
 "That calls up another question. Mrs. Smalley visited me 
 yesterday, and she warned me solemnly not to allow any 
 'followers:' she said xt^z-s, positively ruinous!' 
 
 " What is a follower ? Pray tell me." 
 
 " Why, she meant a lover, a young man paying attention to 
 
 her, I suppose," said Miriam, laughing. 
 29 
 
446 THE COMPLETE NOME. 
 
 " Mrs. Smalley allowed her own daughter a follower ; is the 
 servant-maid above or beneath such an adherent ? The servant 
 girls marry, Miriam, just as frequently as their young mistresses. 
 Indeed, I think there are fewer unmarried women among the 
 working classes than among those a little better off The maid 
 has a heart, the natural affections of a young woman ; she likes 
 to be admired, to think that there is some one who esteems he: 
 above all the world. For fear of losing her place and her means 
 of livelihood, she m?.y agree to have no ' follower,' but she will 
 have one none the less. Prohibited receiving him in her neat, 
 warm, well-lighted kitchen, in the protection and respectability 
 of the household, she will hang over the back-gate, hide in an 
 area, make an appointment at a street-corner, or at some not 
 first-class eating-house. A young Lzdy who did this would be 
 condemned at once and lose her credit ; is it any less dangerous 
 for the servant-woman to put herself in such a position? 
 Mistresses who claim to be very particular, perhaps even by thus 
 being unjustly particular, are often responsible for the ruined life 
 and character of some servant, whom their womanly sympathy 
 and guardianship might have saved to be a happy wife and a 
 good mother. The compliments which your servant appreciates, 
 the little gifts which she accepts, the amusements to which she 
 is escorted, are not those which would suit your taste; but so 
 long as they are decent and honest, we have, underlying all, the 
 common womanhood, the common sentiments and instincts God 
 implanted, and those we should recognize and respect in our 
 
 1 treatment of her." 
 
 "Then I had better allow a follower? " laughed Miriam. 
 
 " You can tell your new maid frankly, that you do not think 
 
 . it suitable for any young woman to have the calls of a promis- 
 cuous troop of young men; you should not allow your own 
 daughter, if she were grown, liberty for anything of this kind; 
 
 • neither do you approve of a young man coming every evening. 
 
MISTRESS AND MAW IN THE HOME. 447 
 
 or staying late ; if she has any particular friend, approvea. by her 
 relatives, and of such character as could frankly come to a 
 gentleman's house, then she can receive him, and you will trust 
 her to treat you openly and honorably in regard to him. It will 
 not be hard for Mark to find out something of the real character 
 of this friend ; if it is vicious, you cannot allow him to come tc 
 your house; you owe it to yourself and to your maid to forbid 
 him the premises, and to warn her of her danger in the acquaint- 
 ance. You are the girl's God-ordained guardian while she is 
 with you. If her friend is of the right sort, try, by the advice 
 which you occasionally drop, and by the reading which you put 
 in her way, to give her a sense of her duty : of the need of thrift 
 and careful preparation for married life." 
 
 "Why," said Miriam, looking very grave, "this hiring a maid 
 means then a good deal more than simply to get some one tc 
 wash dishes, bake, iron, sweep and dust." 
 
 " Indeed it does," I rejoined ; " it is taking into your family 
 band another pilgrim bound for eternity; here is another human 
 soul come into your keeping; not white and unwritten like the 
 soul of the little child, all open to your inscribing, but much of 
 false teaching and evil habits, of preconceived notions, of fixed 
 opinions, may be there to combat your efforts to lead them in 
 the right way." 
 
 "What a responsibility!" cried Miriam; " but give me one or 
 two plain and simple rules, so that I may feel, resting on them, 
 that I have some solid ground beneath my feet I want some 
 starting-point for my new work." 
 
 " I give you the same which possibly I have given you in 
 regard to children — for in many respects our servants come to 
 us on the plane of children. Have laws like those of the Medes 
 and Persians — unalterable laws, so that they shall know what to 
 depend upon ; and have privilegfes like an Englishman's house, 
 frhich is his inviolate castle. Don't let servants think that you 
 
448 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 do not mean the thing which you say, either in your own be- 
 half or in theirs. When you promise them a favor, keep your 
 promise; respect their privileges; be cordial in giving them their 
 holiday afternoons; all work, unrelieved by amusement, makes 
 any one dull and listless ; it is bad for morals, health, and foi 
 brains ; uninterrupted work is intolerable : it comes at last to tor 
 ture us, like that famous dropping of water. I have known i. 
 maid so heartless, that after two years of service, where she was 
 kindly treated, she coolly walked off to take her Thursday half- 
 holiday, asking no questions, making no apologies, and leaving 
 her mistress bending over the bed of a dying child. That was 
 one instance of brutality. I have known many instances where 
 the servant voluntarily and cheerfully changed her afternoon 
 out, or gave it up entirely because of guests, or sickness, or be- 
 cause of some work which she saw it would be a pleasure to 
 her mistress to have out of the way. Where there is kind con- 
 sideration shown on the one hand, it is usually reciprocated on 
 the other, and in virtue of her position the mistress must take 
 the initiative in this interchange of good offices." 
 
 It is a cardinal point in the creed of some persons that servants 
 are a trial and a nuisance, and that it is a great cross to be 
 obliged to keep them. This is a false idea. To take service is, 
 and always must be, one of the ways in which a large number 
 of human beings get their living; other human beings who have 
 house-room, money, and work, must then take these people in ; 
 this is one of their duties to the world at large, and one of the 
 things which the Lord set for them to do, in the way of provid- 
 ing for their fellows, as he provides for them. 
 
 I think the next person with whom I conversed on this sub- 
 ject was Mary Watkins. She came to me one day saying that 
 she had made arrangements to take a girl of fifteen from a city 
 institution, and keep her until she was twenty-one. 
 
 Said Mary: " I hope she will be a good girl to me, and I Wcint 
 
MISTHESS AND MAW IN THE HOME. 449 
 
 to be a good mistress to her. I should be sorry if she finished 
 her stay with me without being in every way better for it ; what 
 main methods shall I take for her improvement? You know I 
 have very little experience with servants, for hitherto I have 
 had none but a little ten-year-old from the village, and my 
 mother did not keep help after I was twelve years old." 
 
 "The foundation, Mary," I replied, "of good character and 
 efficiency in service lies in sound religious principle ; this stim- 
 ulates zeal, unselfishness, honesty that is above eye-service ; h 
 furnishes something in the servant to be relied upon. We 
 should give our servants all the religious help possible. A Bible 
 should always be furnished for the servant's room ; the work 
 should be managed so that she can go to church at least once 
 weekly ; she should always be at family prayers. If you see he) 
 indulging in unchristian conduct, give a Christian admonition ; 
 endeavor to furnish good reading for her leisure hours on Sab- 
 bath ; do not expect the maid to enjoy a volume of sermons, nor 
 Baxter's 'Saincs' Rest;' the young, robust, and partially edu 
 cated, do not take to writing of this kind, but they will enjojr 
 ' Pilgrims' Progress,' a religious magazine, a church paper, the 
 ' Tales of the Covenanters ' or of the Waldensians. Show youf 
 friendly interest in your maid by giving her a decent room. 
 Don't give a mass of ragged bed-clothes, a poor tick and pillow, 
 and begrudge a clean sheet and pillow-case each week. Don't 
 ask her to be neat, and then give her no appliances for hei 
 toilette, so that she must wash and comb in the kitchen. Put a 
 bowl, pitcher and comb-case in her room ; a chair ; a stand for 
 her light and books ; a pincushion ; at least one strip of carpet 
 by the bed ; put up hooks for her clothes, and do not deny her 
 the decency of a curtain to the window ; if you can spare her a 
 little bureau, or a chest of drawers, so much the better, and a 
 shoe-box. Her room thus tidy and well equipped when she 
 goes into it, you can impress upon her the need of keeping it a« 
 
460 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 nice as any part of the house ; and where there is any neglect, 
 remark upon it immediately. 
 
 " Girls who have a comfortable room furnished thcni generally 
 appreciate it. I remember a girl coming to iVIrs. Burr and 
 being sent up to her tidy room, where there was, among other 
 things, an illuminated text on the wall, and a pot of flowers in 
 the window. She came straight down before laying off her 
 bonnet, and said, with tears in her eyes, ' I came to thank you 
 for such a nice room. It looks just as if you wanted to make 
 me comfortable and self-respecting, and I shall try to do my 
 very best for you.' 
 
 " Be careful, also, and treat your servant kindly, while you do 
 not forget or fail in your own position. Don't think because 
 you have a rigid to command that it is best to be forever 
 issuing orders; there is no law against your nttcring requests. 
 Another important point is — not only for the good of the ser- 
 vants, but of your children — see to it that the children treat 
 your hired help with courtesy. Teach them to say ' please ' 
 and 'thank you.' See to it that they do not wantonly make 
 work, and that they heed requests and remonstrances, and dc 
 not allow them to hinder the girl when she is busy. I have 
 seen children so shamefully ill-bred, that they would come in 
 when a girl had just finished a weary scrubbing of a floor, and 
 tramp about on the wet wood with dirty feet, j ust for the sake of 
 soiling it, or throw mud on a newly cleaned window, or slop 
 water over a stove or table, merely to vex the doer of this hard 
 cleaning work. Do what you car. to lighten work : not in the 
 way of allowing neglect, for that never really makes anything 
 easier, but by furnishing any possible appliances to make the 
 work easier. If you can afford a clothes-wringer, and a box- 
 line protector for the clothe.s-line, and a drain for suds opening 
 near the washtubs, have these things to lighten toil. Have 
 posts set firmly for your clothes-lines, with bars or hooks for 
 
MIStRESS AND MAID IN THE HOME. 451 
 
 fastening the line; for what is more vexing or exhausting 
 than to spend a long time in sun, frost or wind trying to tie up 
 a line for which no proper provision has been made, or, after ail 
 one's tedious efforts, to have the clothes tumble down in the 
 dirt, and all needing to be rinsed over again ? 
 
 " Try to set your maid a good example, and give her good 
 advice in matters personal to herself Teach her how to make,, 
 mend and cut out clothes : what a blessing and saving this' 
 knowledge will be in her future home ! Do not set her an 
 example of untidiness by sending ragged clothes into the wash, 
 and letting her see yo7i using things that need mending. Let 
 her realize that you think it a positive duty to darn your 
 stockings, mend all your clothes neatly, and turn all that you 
 have to the best use. 
 
 " I commended a poor woman once for being a nice house- 
 keeper, and said : ' You seem to have some witchcraft in making: 
 things last long.' 
 
 " She answered : ' It is all owing to a good example that I had 
 when living out. My mistress never let anything go to waste. 
 When the sheets began to wear, they were turned ; as needed, 
 they were darned and patched; and when large sheets gave 
 out, they were made over into narrow ones for single beds. 
 Table-cloths were darned in every little break, and when too 
 much worn for the table, they were cut into towels and fringed 
 or hemmed for use over bread, pies, cake and so on, in pantry 
 and cellar. The pillow-cases were darned neatly where they 
 cracked ; so were towels ; and old towels were doubled and 
 sewed into neat wash-cloths. An old crumb-cloth, long darned 
 and mended, when finally worn out, made us first-rate kitchen- 
 towels. Nothing was wasted or neglected. As with the house- 
 linen, so with the family clothes. You should have seen the 
 neat mending ; the fine darns in stockings and handkerchiefs ; 
 the rough edges of petticoats turned in and over -sewn; the 
 
462 'J'iJE ^OMl'LETE HOME. 
 
 worn edges of collars and cuffs trimmed with a ruffle of lace. 1 
 learned there that things take a long while to wear out : they go 
 from use to use for years.' 
 
 " Now this woman on very narrow means was rearing a family 
 of children in decency, and making her little girls as wise and 
 thrifty as herself. How far had the example of that faithful 
 housekeeper extended for good ! And, finally, for I am talking 
 altogether too long, and telling you more than you are likely 
 to remember, govern your own conduct to your servants by 
 principle, and they will be influenced by your example to be 
 well principled in their conduct to you. Nothing is so potent 
 as good example in securing respect and imitation. Don't lose 
 your temper; reprove with firmness, calmness and moderation.'' 
 
 When Sara set up housekeeping, her mother-in-law, Mrs. 
 Winton, gave her some good counsel about her maids. She 
 said: 
 
 " Let them look for your coming where they work as an 
 encouragement, because you will help them to see their work 
 more clearly, and you will be able to suggest good methods for 
 doing it well and quickly. Let them expect your presence as 
 an incentive, because you will kindly commend what is good. 
 The kitchen-maid has been scrubbing, polishing, window- 
 washing, until she is really tired and uncomfortable. You 
 come in and remark: 'Ah, it is a pleasure to come into such a 
 neat kitchen as this.' You happen to go to the tin-closet, 
 orderly and shining ; you remark : ' This closet is a treat to look 
 at : it does you great credit.' The girl is saving. She tries out, 
 clarifies and strains drippings ; saves bread-crumbs for dressing 
 cutlets or fish ; makes a nice white bone-soup ; takes pains with 
 your property as if she had .herself paid for it; and you say: 
 ' I am pleased that you are so thrifty : it is useful to me, and will 
 be very useful to you. The young man who secures such a 
 wife will be fortunate.' Now these commendations go a great 
 
MISTRESS AND MAID IN THE HOME. 453 
 
 ways : they pay for over-weariness. The maid feels rested and 
 refreshed by a good word, and is stirred to go on to better and 
 better things. Again, the servant should look for your pres- 
 ence as a warning against carelessness. Don't go into a kit- 
 chen, find things going wrong, and, sighing hopelessly, retreat 
 discouraged. You go into the kitchen and see that after break- 
 fast the dish-towels were not washed ; the sink has been wiped 
 out, but is not really clean; there is dust left in the corners; 
 the hearth is untidy ; the broom stands on the brush and not 
 on the handle. Speak promptly to the point. 
 
 " ' Catherine ! see how you have left your broom ; hang it up 
 when you are done with it ; but now, before hanging it up, take 
 it and sweep your kitchen nicely — see the dust left in these 
 ■ corners. I see you have forgotten my rule about washing these 
 towels ; now I shall put them into this pan, and put hot water 
 and soft soap on them ; as soon as the kitchen is swept, wash 
 these towels well and hang them up ; then add some sal-soda to 
 the suds left and scrub out this sink carefully ; if you rub your 
 finger on the inside you will see that it is greasy. Never think, 
 Catherine, that time or strength are saved by carelessness. I 
 hope I shall not see this neglect again.' Let the servants feel 
 that your quick eye will note every omission, and that you will 
 not fear to correct it." 
 
 One day, when we were visiting Hester, she said to Mrs. 
 Winton : " Why are servants so poor and so much complained 
 of now-a-days ? The race of reliable maids seems dying out. 
 I have excellent servants, but most people complain." 
 
 "The ueason is," replied Mrs. Winton, "First, that of late 
 young women have grown up in ignorance of housekeeping, and 
 do not understand how to manage either house or maid : poor 
 mistresses make poor maids. 
 
 "Second. It has become the fashion to complain of the hired 
 help; mistresses have fallen into a habit of exaggerating faults 
 
454 THE COMPLETE HOME 
 
 and making themselves out to be martyrs : little comes whence 
 little is expected. 
 
 " Third. We have fallen into an emulous habit of keeping too 
 many servants; several maids, none of whom have full occu- 
 pation, quarrel, neglect their work, assigning it to others, and 
 realize the proverb that Satan finds mischief for idle hands. 
 Better to have too few servants than too many ; don't call in extra 
 help because the neighbors have more maids than you, but 
 because you absolutely need more help. A friend of mine with a 
 large family, finding that with four servants her work was nevei 
 done, and could not get done, instead of hiring a fifth, discharged 
 one of those which she had, and remarked that then if the work 
 were not properly done she would try keeping but two servants; 
 there was no more trouble, the work was done on time, well 
 done, and no one was overtaxed. 
 
 "The fourth reason for our poor servants is, that they are 
 discharged on small pretexts; one does not try to mend 
 matters by keeping and teaching them, but by dismissing them. 
 They half learn the ways of a dozen or a score of families, but 
 never wholly master those of one. Families go into the country 
 or to the coast for six months, or four months, and turn off the 
 help, or some of them, and expect the next fall and winter to 
 hire others who will look to a similarly short term of service. 
 Who can expect good help in such circumstances ? 
 
 " Fifth. We have poor servants because we hire them too 
 hastily ; we do not scrutinize their antecedents and characters, 
 and we are not particular enough to tell them exactly our 
 rules. 
 
 " Sixth. We are often too indolent to have household laws, oi 
 if we have them to execute them. Our domestic judiciary and 
 executive are both weak and insufficient. If we would only say 
 what we mean, and mean what we say, our servants would obejf 
 better. 
 
^ MISTRESS AND MAW IN THE HOME. \q7^ 
 
 "The seventh reason for our having poor servants is, that 
 we do not reaUze the blessing and comfort there is in good 
 ones; we say we Hke a good cook, a nurse who keeps the 
 children clean and quiet, a housemaid who dusts thoroughly, 
 ooaks her brooms once a month in boiling suds, hangs them up 
 'jvhen she has finished using them, and sweeps with a long, even 
 stroke, keeping her broom to the floor, and not flinging the 
 dust into the air; but we mention our liking these good 
 qualities much as we say we like a horse that does not shy, a 
 cow that does not kick, a chicken which is fat and tender. We 
 do not comprehend that this servant may be in sorrow a self- 
 forgetting sympathizer ; in sickness a devoted nurse ; in losses a 
 staunch adherent ; that her devotion being deserved may become 
 as intense as that of our nearest relations, that she may serve 
 our children with almost maternal self-abnegation." 
 
 If there is any one who can appreciate these remarks about 
 a faithful domestic, I think I should be able to. Martha 
 ha!s for years been with me, devoted to my interests, regarding 
 all my joys and sorrows as her own. She takes the greatest 
 pride in my nieces' children, and is constantly thinking of some 
 way in which she can benefit them or their mothers. When 
 Miriam has had sickness in her family, or her servant has been 
 obliged to be absent for a day, Martha has risen early and 
 retired late, that she might not only do my work, but bake, or 
 iron, or cook for Miriam. All that Hannah has of efficiency as 
 a servant she owes to Martha, who took her in hand, taught her, 
 instructed her to consider Helen's interests as her own, helped 
 her, persuaded her to remain in her place and not run from 
 family to family; and really Hannah is now a very good maid, and 
 a great blessing to Helei., who could hardly get on withput her. 
 
 Martha, besides having good habits, a good heart, an hone.st 
 conscience and a readiness to learn, has also good brains, and 
 she invents things for herself; meanwhile, she reads and remem- 
 
466 "^HE COMPLETE HOME. , 
 
 faers. She has culled recipes and hints about housekeeping 
 from numerous papers and books, and has pasted them in 
 several scrap-books, which she kept in the kitchen on the shelf 
 with her Bible, her hymn-book, and perhaps some other book 
 which she was reading. Seeing her interest in these things, and 
 anxious to gratify her, I went to Mr. Smalley, and had him 
 make me four little book-shelves, swung on a stout cord : they 
 were made of white wood, and stained dark. These I hung up 
 in the kitchen between the windows, and then I carried in and 
 placed on them various books which I have on house-work, 
 cooking and the like — " Mrs. Glasse's Cookery,'' good if old, 
 "The British Housewife," "Blot's Lectures,'' and a number of 
 others. Martha was highly gratified by this attention, and I 
 often find her, when her work is done, poring over these vol- 
 umes. I have frequently given Martha books — religious books 
 — a story or two, and once I took a magazine for her for a year 
 or two. It was not exactly such a magazine as I would have 
 preferred for myself, but it was simple and varied in contents, 
 and suited Martha so well that she had the numbers bound. 
 
 I have found the good of Martha's brains in various little con- 
 trivances. One year I thought our well-water was not very 
 good, and I meant to have a new well dug. I said I must 
 get meanwhile a filter ; there was none in the village, and before 
 X could send to town, Martha made a filter. She bought a very 
 'Urge common red earthen flower-pot, with a hole in the bottom. 
 She set this in the top of the water-cooler, where it just fitted 
 when the lid was taken off; she put in the flower-pot, first, a 
 layer of nice brook-pebbles, then a layer of sand from the brook, 
 then one of charcoal, broken pretty small : she repeated these 
 layers until they filled the pot. Then on the pot she set a 
 water-bucket, with a small augur hole bored in the bottom ; in 
 the pail she poured the water for filtering: it percolated the 
 various layers in the flower-pot, entering the cooler pure, as it 
 
MISTRESS AND MAW IN THE HOME. 457 
 
 it had passed through the best patent filter. Mary Watkins was 
 much pleased with this piece of ingenuity. She said : " If I 
 only had a cooler, I would arrange a filter in that way, for our 
 well-water is poor." 
 
 Martha's ingenuity extended over Mary's case. She said r 
 " Except for a little trouble in lifting when you want a pitcher 
 of water, Mrs. Watkins, you can do just as well, if you set the 
 flower-pot in the neck of a four or six gallon stone-jar ; and if 
 you pin around that a piece of an old blanket, or several thick- 
 nesses of crash towel, and keep that wet, the water will be 
 nearly as cool as ice-water." 
 
 Another time I went into the kitchen, and found Martha sur- 
 veying, with much pleasure, several rhubarb pies and a dish of 
 green currant sauce. She said, with an air of triumph : "Ah ! 
 I've got the better of the sour things this time!" 
 
 " How is that, Martha ? " I asked ; " did you put in extra 
 sugar ? " 
 
 " No, indeed, ma'am ; they've always used too much sugar for 
 my fancy. No; I'll tell you what I did : I pui the fruit to stew, 
 and when it was half done I put in each pot-a small, even tea- 
 spoon of carbonate of soda (baking soda), and that, ma'am, 
 somehow ate up the sourness of the fruit, so it wasn't mu/;h 
 Ciiore sour than dried peaches, or black cherries, or blackberries, 
 and I've saved about half the usual sugar, and I've got a pie that 
 tastes fairly elegant — indeed it do." 
 
 "Why, Martha," I said, "you are quite a chemist." 
 
 " La, ma'am, I saw how to do it in a book, and 30 I tried, and 
 it's turned out quite. beyond my expectations." 
 
 "As you have been so saving, you had better carrj' one of 
 those pies to your sister-in-law for her Sunday dinner, and tell 
 her of your new way of sparing sugar, and it may help her 
 in her housekeeping; we should teach all the economy we 
 leam." 
 
468 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 A servant so faithful and thoughtful, one would say, deserves 
 all the little aids and conveniences that can be given her ; I have 
 been careful, since Martha, like myself, is growing elderly, to 
 have a comfortable rocking-chair in the kitchen for her to rest 
 in; and I have placed her in a room over the kitchen where 
 there is a drum from the kitchen stove, so that in cold weathei 
 she will be comfortable. Much of Martha's faithful thought- 
 fulness, however, comes from the instruction and good treat- 
 tnent which she has always received from me ; she would say 
 so herself 
 
 As an illustration of the good which one can do to the public 
 at large by faithfully training their servants, I will mention the 
 case of three maiden ladies whom I knew in my youth. In 
 those days we received many Irish emigrants, young girls come 
 over to seek service — " raw Irish " they were called, and indeed 
 tbgy were very raw. Wages were then very low; a dollar or a 
 dollar and a quarter a week was a large price in the towns, and 
 in the city a dollar fifty and a dollar seventy-five was handsome, 
 while two dollars was enormous pay. In the small towns wages 
 sank below a dollar to seventy-five, fifty, forty, even twenty- 
 five cents for " the raw Irish." In those days dry-goods were 
 low, and eight yards of calico made a maid a decent frock! 
 These ladies of whom I speak were admirable housekeepers ; 
 being in narrow circumstances, they could not aiTord to give the 
 wages of a skilled servant, besides they felt that they had a duty 
 to the strangers on our shores, and that one of their modest 
 ways of doing good might be to take some of these emigrants 
 and make them useful women. Accordingly, they always took 
 a new Irish girl; she could not be so ignorant as to damp their 
 zeal. They taught her personal neatness; saw to it that she 
 bathed, combed her hair, and cleaned her teeth ; they taught her 
 to mend her clothes, put in order all that she brought with her, 
 which was little ; and though they gave but thirty-seven cents 
 
MISTRESS AND MAW IN THE HOME. 459 
 
 in wages, they were able, among the three, to provide her many 
 good garments by teaching her to make over their own laid-by 
 clothes ; they taught her to fit and make her dresses ; to make a 
 neat bonnet ; on Christmas she got a good new shawl or coat." 
 she was taught to read, and, if she had any aptitude, to write ; 
 she was also taught plain cooking, bread-making, housework, 
 'aundry work — all of the best variety. No girl left service with 
 them without knowing how to read, sew, and do general house- 
 work ; then when a year and a half or two years had put her in 
 possession of these arts, the good ladies sought among their 
 friends, who always were eager to get a girl of their training, 
 and found her a place, where she got a dollar or a dollar ano 
 a quarter a week, while they took another case of raw help to 
 develop into industrious, capable womanhood. Doubtless they 
 had a score of these girls, some staying less time than the others, 
 all leaving them well equipped for life ; and these servants, in- 
 stead of being shiftless, vicious, dirty pauper-makers, finally 
 settled into decent and thrifty homes of their own. Who can 
 estimate the value of these good ladies to the town in which they 
 lived, to the state, to humanity at large? 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOW TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 
 AUNT SOPHRONIA TELLS HOW TO DO IT. 
 
 |AMES FREDERICK BLACK is by no means the least 
 promising of our young men. He has been very inti- 
 mate with the Winton boys ; our minister thinks a 
 great deal of him ; he is fond of asking deep and far- 
 reaching questions, and he tries to improve ; so, in spite of 
 various disadvantages in Home-training, I think James Fred- 
 erick will turn out very well. I hope so, I'm sure, not only for 
 his own sake, but he is paying attention to Cousin Ann's 
 younger daughter, and I think a great deal of her. Speaking 
 of the questions which James Frederick likes to ask reminds 
 me of one that he put to me recently. Mrs. Burr had a very 
 large gathering at her house celebrating her silver-wedding. 
 She usually invites a number of friends on each of her wedding 
 anniversaries, but on this especial occasion almost every one in 
 our village and in the neighboring country was asked. Of 
 course there was a good deal of talk about family life, home 
 duties and so forth. By-and-by James Frederick and one of the 
 Wintons came to me, and said : 
 
 'Aunt Sophronia, you are to tell us how to make Home 
 happy, and give the means of doing so in one word." 
 
 I thought for a minute or two what phrase would cover the 
 most ground, and said : " Good management." 
 
 They went off to a group of young people, apparently to 
 
 report my answer, and James Frederick returned, saying, 
 (460) 
 
HOW TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 4(J] 
 
 "That word would include a great deal, would it not?" 
 
 "Certainly," I replied; "the good management must extend 
 to health, finances, order, the training of children, our sooieu 
 duties, the making the best of our possessions, so that we shall 
 secure from them the largest amouiit of comfort. You may 
 have in your pantry, or on a table, all the component parts of a 
 pound-cake, but unless thtey are judiciously put together you 
 will have no cake. So you may have this, that and the other 
 element of happy home making, but unless they are wisely 
 brought together and blended you will not have a happy 
 home." 
 
 " Homes where all these elements are so nicely blended," 
 said James Frederick, "are so few, that I fear some great, 
 exceptional, overpowering genius, some Michael Angelo of th<? 
 Home, is needed for the infinitely varied task." 
 
 " No, James Frederick ; it is merely conscientious persever- 
 ance in little things which is demanded. It has been well said 
 that 'To do common things perfectly is far better worth our 
 endeavor than to do uncommon things respectably.' " 
 
 About a week after this Martha suggested that Miriam had 
 desired me to spend the afternoon with her. She artfully con- 
 trived that I should wear my best gown and head-gear. About 
 half-past six Martha came after me, saying that a friend wanted 
 me. I went home and found my house warmed and lighted 
 from top to bottom, and I caught sight of the dining-table, 
 drawn to its fullest length, with all my silver displayed, and a 
 great pyramid of fancy cakes and macaroons, for which Martha 
 is famous. The Blacks and Hester were in the parlor. I saw 
 that Martha had joined a surprise-party conspiracy. Presently 
 other guests came until there were about twenty-five young 
 people, and James Frederick informed me that they had come 
 expressly to hear me expound how to make Home happy. No 
 Pther conversation was to be allowed. The young ladies had 
 30 
 
462 mE. COMPLETE i:OME. 
 
 brought baskets of their best culinary samples, to prove that, as 
 far as cooking went, they could make home very happy indeed. 
 In an instant the chairs were drawn around me in a double 
 circle. 
 
 " Begin," cried Dick, autocratically. 
 
 " Where shall I begin ? You have taken me so by surprise, 
 that I begin to feel as if I never so much as heard of the insti- 
 tution called Home, nor how it could be made happy." 
 
 " Give us some hints about buying furniture and putting it in 
 a house," said James Frederick, saucily, whipping out his note- 
 book. " I'm going to buy some soon, and I want to know." 
 
 Cousin Ann's daughter grew very rosy, and hid behind her 
 sister, Sara Winton. 
 
 " Well," I said, " if a heterogeneous mass of hints will be of 
 any use to you, you are welcome to them. You give me no 
 time for better presentation of the subject. 
 
 " First, as to providing furniture, be most liberal in providing 
 conveniences for rooms which you will use most. Do not stint 
 the kitchen to trick out the parlor : do not deprive yourself of 
 proper pots and pans of a good, durable carpet for your bed- 
 room, and a side-table for the dining-room, in order that your 
 parlor may have a great looking-glass. A housewife -spends 
 much time in her kitchen : let it be neat, tastefully arranged, 
 provided with conveniences which shall save disorder. Get 
 solid, substantial furniture : don't be deceived by pretty sounding 
 adjectives. It will be no advantage to your dining-table to be 
 light and elegant: it might break down under your first big 
 dinner. Neither should chairs be light and elegant: they might 
 crush like an egg-shell under the first fat man. It is better to 
 get less furniture, but of a good, firm quality, than a deal of 
 flimsy stuff Do not get showy carvings and colorings, unless 
 expanse is of small account to you, and you can change your 
 ■ furr. ishings frequently: black hair-cloth of good quality, spite of 
 
HOW TU MAKE HOME HAPPY. 463 
 
 all the revilings cast at it, is far better than a cheap red or 
 green reps which will soon fade or crack. If you do not 
 expect to refurnish frequently, avoid getting furniture of odd 
 forms ; get plain shapes, not with dozens of curious curves : in a 
 little while the eye wearies of these, the fashion changes, and 
 they are a source of disgust. Get carpets of solid quality, 
 subdued tints, small patterns, that are like knov/n things : only a 
 Turkish carpet can venture to lead the mind into the weary 
 mazes of a crazy man's dream of things unknown to creation. 
 Remember and not crowd your house over-full at first : there is 
 use and pleasure in buying things as a need for them develops : 
 the eye is refreshed by a new picture on the wall, and a new rug, 
 ottoman or stand, put just where a lack had seemed to be. For 
 woods, in a parlor or handsomely furnished bed-room, you are 
 always safe in getting a good oiled walnut ; for bed-rooms where 
 you desire to avoid expense, cottage sets of painted bass wood 
 are neat, pretty and enduring; for a dining-room, oak, and it 
 pays to get oak chairs seated with maroon leather. . Don't forget 
 when you are buying a table that it is for use ; that a chair is to 
 sit in, and so should be comfortable ; that a bureau is for use, 
 and that its drawers should be strong, with good locks, opening 
 and shutting easily, and deep. Let there be harmony in your 
 furniture : don't get one fine and huge article which will stare 
 all the rest of your simple surroundings out of countenance ; a 
 fine, carved, tall, marble-topped buffet would look ill-placed in a 
 small dining-room, with an old-fashioned, leaved table, and thin- 
 legged, cane-seat chairs. When you are furnishing, from the 
 beginning, any room, consider harmony : get a carpet, a wall- 
 paper, and furniture, which harmonize; don't have a wall- 
 paper in pink flowers, a bright red carpet, and a cottage suite in 
 light blue. When you add furniture to rooms already partly 
 fitted out, get what harmonizes with the rest, and supplies a 
 felt need. When you put your furniture in your rooms, let the 
 
4&i TBE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 rooms mean something ; don't let them have a dreary, soulless 
 look, as if human emotions had nothing to do with producing 
 them, and they had been set in shape by machinery. Group 
 your furniture comfortably; put chairs, stands, books, pictures, 
 where people would naturally use them. Study artistic effect : 
 this study increases the beauty of present possessions, and trains 
 the taste of the family. A gentleman paid his wife a grand 
 compliment, when, looking into the pretentiously dreary quarters 
 assigned him as a government officer, he* remarked : 'Well, it 
 does look frightfully, but it will be all right when my wife 
 comes ; she could create beauty and a home, out of a fragment 
 of the Sahara and a half-dozen newspapers.' Finally, don't 
 crowd your rooms: we all want breathing space." 
 
 " Tell us, if you please," said Grace Winton, " some ways in 
 which we can make articles of furniture for ourselves, if we have 
 not much money to lay out in our houses?" 
 
 " I suppose you all know," I said, " how to make a chair of a 
 barrel, sawn into shape, and covered with chintz, over stuffing. 
 So also an hour-glass stand is an article often made of two 
 round boards, nailed at either end of a stick' two and one-half 
 feet high, and two and one-half inches in either diameter. Let 
 your board-top be as large as you wish your stand ; cover first 
 with old muslin, and then with fancy chintz or muslin ; furnish 
 the top with a central pin-cushion and a circle of pockets ; and 
 tie the draping muslin, at the centre of the support, into the 
 form of an hour-glass. Foot-cushions are pretty, and easily 
 made of patch-work. You can have a lovely bracket by fasten- 
 ing to the wall a board of the right size, and putting on it a 
 cloth cover with a depending edge cut into leaf shapes or trian- 
 gles, and the whole embroidered with silk in Oriental applique: 
 the skirts of a worn-out black or blue coat will furnish you this 
 covering. A dry goods box, some colored cambric and white 
 Swiss, with ribbon, will make a toilette table. A good lounge 
 
I/OPV TO MAKE HOME HAPPV 466 
 
 can be made of a frame, a cushion, stuffed with hay or husks, 
 evenly tacl<:ed, and the whole nicely covered with chintz, or 
 indeed with calico. Chintz^ lambrequins are pretty and simple 
 for windows ; full curtains of buff, white, gray or pink lawn to 
 suit the general tone of the room are pretty, but not especially 
 cheap. You can make shades by stretching unbleached muslin 
 on a frame, rubbing evenly into it melted beeswax and rosin, 
 and when that is dry, putting on a coat of paint and one of var- 
 nish. However, the only curtain cheaper than bought shades — 
 and a pretty curtain it is — is made of fine unbleached, with a 
 binding of red or blue plain calico,- and a bias of the same an 
 inch wide, set one inch from the border ; these, frilled at top and 
 bottom, are very tasteful, cheap and durable. A very good car- 
 pet for a library or room not to be roughly used can be made in 
 this way : paste over the floor a thickness of heaviest coarse 
 brown paper ; when dry, paste (not glue) another layer, and so 
 on for three, or even four. Cover with a coat of cheap gray ©r 
 yellow paint. Then all around the edge, paint a heavy inch- 
 wide line of deep reddish brown ; match that line fifteen inches 
 farther in if the room is large, ten inches or a foot if of medium 
 size. Between these lines paint in a solid color to suit yourself 
 and when dry lay on it, in some other color, arabesques or 
 leaves. There is your border. Fill the centre in of a solid 
 color, say deep blue or dark green ; if you choose, you can 
 paint a central medallion or some corner pieces. When well 
 hardened, lay on a heavy coat of varnish. This carpe*: must not 
 be swept or washed, but carefully wiped off with a woollen cloth, 
 pinned over a broom. Lay mats where the heaviest wear 
 comes ; and if varnished once a year, or repainted where dam- 
 aged, it will last for years. Indeed, love and need united will 
 teach us very many ways of furnishing comfortably our homes 
 at small expense. Necessity in the Home, as elsewhere, is the 
 mother of invention." 
 
466 "^^^ COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 "And how shall we keep this cosy, tasteful home when wo 
 get it?" asked Miss Black. 
 
 Hester, who sat by me, thinking me a little tired, said: "Let 
 me preface Aunt Sophronia's remarks, by giving you a quota- 
 tion from a French author, Sauvestre : ' I hate an aspect of dis- 
 order, because it indicates either a scorn of details or inaptitude 
 for interior life. Arranging the objects in the midst of which 
 we live is establishing between us and them bonds of appropri- 
 ateness or convenience : it is fixing habits without which man 
 tends toward the savage state. I should be suspicious of the 
 good sense and morality of people, to whom disorder costs no 
 vexation, or who could live at ease in Augean stables. Our 
 surroundings reflect more or less our interior natures. If tastes 
 did not betray character, they would be no longer tastes, but 
 merely instincts.'" 
 
 " Hester," said I, " has struck the key-note of my answer to 
 your last question. We shall preserve and enjoy this happy home 
 by good order. We must take care of our properties : worn^ 
 out carpets, soiled and ragged table-covers, broken-springed and 
 dented furniture, windows mended with paper and putty, marred 
 walls, cracked dishes, give a forlornness to our homes. We 
 must ourselves be methodical, orderly, careful in our use of 
 things, and see to it that servants and children are so also. 
 
 " I have seen homes which children were permitted to turn 
 into kingdoms of misrule. I remember one such, very well 
 furnished to begin with : the children played with everything in 
 the house ; they played that the chairs were horses, cars, carts ; 
 these conveyances, to increase the general joy, overturned 
 occasionally ; as you may fancy, there was hardly a chair in the 
 house uncracked and undented. They took the family umbrellas 
 and spread them, for caves and dens of the earth, on the dining- 
 room floor, in their hilarity rolling over in them, and bending 
 the wires and ruining the handles. They took all the shawls in 
 
HOW TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 467 
 
 the house, pinning them together to drape the dining-room table 
 for a wigwam. This topsy-turvy play left neither table, nor 
 chair, nor rest for the sole of an adult foot. The tranquil 
 mother never woke up to the need of stopping it, until her 
 husband, cold, wet or weary, appeared at one door, and the 
 remonstrating maid at another, vowing that supper was being 
 ruined because she could get neither table nor chairs, 
 
 " If these children chose to play Chinese laundry, they tied 
 strings all around the bed-room, and pinned thereto every towel 
 in the house. Their father, come to make his toilette, stands 
 with face and hands dripping, finding the stand plundered of 
 napery, and shouts for a towel, losing his temper. The servant, 
 coming to set things in order, cries ' she never saw such 
 children,' tears down the lines, and thrusts away the towels 
 promiscuously : clean ones, half-folded, in the drawers, other 
 clean ones among the soiled clothes, dirty ones on the stands, 
 and for days confusion is produced thereby. 
 
 " The fashion for sofas then being a long sofa with high arms, 
 these children had a favorite game of sitting on the arms and 
 letting themselves roll violently back on the seat. Imagine the 
 way springs would break and covers wear out in that sport! 
 They draped themselves in the embroidered piano and table 
 covers to play charades, and tried gymnastics by jumping up 
 and down stairs, as hard as they could piound, over the nice 
 carpet. 
 
 "As you may guess, things wore out in this house. The 
 mother vexedly declared she had not a decent room, and could 
 not keep a thing in order. The children played snow-bank in 
 the feather-beds as soon as they were made up, and when beds 
 were negligently left to air until noon, they trampled the clothes 
 around, making tents of them. The mother desired money for 
 various uses : the father, an orderly man, sourly remarked ' that 
 there was no use of laying out money j nothing was taken care of 
 
468 "^'^^ COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 in that house.' The bed-linen, towels and shawls were ruined 
 by pin holes, the furniture was worn and marred, anything was 
 good enough for a menagerie or a monkey-house ! Meanwhile 
 the children were not happiei for this license and disoidei 
 They missed dainty taste, and nice furnishings, and the repose cl 
 good management ; especially as they grew older they found 
 themselves dwarfed, fretted and discouraged by this lack of 
 order and thrift in their home. 
 
 "Contrast such a house as this with Cousin Ann's, wheie 
 children were taught that all things were to be put to theii 
 proper uses, and that the children themselves must help take 
 care of things. I never saw a child there making a horse of a 
 chair, or playing the coffee-mill was a steam-engine. Cousin 
 Ann knew that children liked to play horse, and each child had 
 a pair of knit reins, a broom handle with a famous horse's head 
 of cloth on it ; and Cousin Reuben sawed, hewed and painted a 
 grand hobby-horse, with hair ears, tail and mane, and a red 
 leather bridle — a hobby-horse which served each child in turn, 
 and has gone to a grandchild. 
 
 " The children did not play den, wigwam and cave, in the 
 house : they had for the house suitable plays and enjoyed them; 
 but I have often in fine weather seen Cousin Ann, even when 
 very busy, take time to teach her children how to make, in the 
 yard, a wigwam of branches, or of old palings, or a tent of some 
 discarded rug or cloth. If your neat, tasteful furnishing is to 
 avail you anything in making home happy, you must take cars 
 of it, for unthrift and disorder are the ruin of homes." 
 
 "And what," demanded Belinda, "are some of the small ways 
 in which, without thinking of it, we destroy home happiness ? " 
 
 " One is in lack of courtesy, in failing to use the refinement 
 and politeness at home which we think suitable abroad. But 1 
 nave talked to you a deal' on that head. Another error is lack 
 ^punctuality. This is a serious drawback to home happiness, 
 
UOiV TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 469 
 
 Wid is utterly needless. We can be punctual if we make up our 
 tpinds to it. There should be an exact minute for ringing the 
 bell for each meal ; an exact minute for setting out for church ; 
 when we plan to go out, we should set an exact minute for 
 going, and we should be ready on time; we have no right to 
 waste other people's time; to rile their tempers; to keep affairs 
 <rom going smoothly by being behind-hand ; it is as easy to be 
 five minutes too soon, as five minutes too late ; lack of punc- 
 tuality is a domestic crime. I do not believe Mrs. Winton ever 
 kept any one waiting in her life. She exalts the social virtue of 
 punctuality." 
 
 " I don't think," said Grace Winton, " that mother ever did 
 keep any one waiting ; I thought once that she had kept me for 
 five minutes, but I found that my watch was wrong. Once she 
 hired a servant — very good, except that she was unpunctual. 
 Father said to her: 'My lady, you've got more than your match 
 in this woman ; if you get her nearer the mark than any time 
 within an hour, you'll work a miracle.' 
 
 " But in a month that woman was punctual to the minute. 
 The way mother accomplished this change was making a main 
 object of it. For instance, the time for dinner came ; into the 
 dining-room walks mother and bids the boy ring the bell. 
 
 " ' Oh, ma'am, dinner is not quite ready ! ' 
 
 " ' I'm truly sorry : it ought to be ; ring the bell : it is time for 
 that.- 
 
 " So the bell rang ; in we all came, and solemnly waited foi 
 the dinner. Not a word more of reproof; that waiting was as 
 weighty a reproof as any words. 
 
 ■' Then in her zeal the woman got the meals ready too soon, 
 and mother would say : ' Luke ! why is that bell ringing ? it is 
 ten minutes before the hour.' 
 
 " ' Please, ma'am, dinner's on the table.' 
 
 " ' Then carry it back to the kitchen ; ring the bell at the 
 Tiinute, and we will come.' 
 
470 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " She never kept the meal waiting ; if the woman sent word, 
 'Shall I serve supper? the young gentlemen are not in yet,' 
 mother responded, ' Set on supper at the minute, and the young 
 gentlemen can take their chance.' 
 
 " Our servants soon rejoice in our household- punctuality, and 
 it reaches out and pervades the gentlemen's business ; they 
 know jusi when they shall get to their offices, and they know 
 just when they should leave. They arrange their work with a 
 view to this, and find it as easy to be on time as to be irregular, 
 and it is much better for health." 
 
 " Much obliged, Grace," I said ; " we will all try to profit by 
 that leaf from your mother's housekeeping book. Now I think 
 of another thing needful in making Home happy. Don't get 
 excited over small matters. Every one is liable to make mis- 
 takes,, and \s& should not treat a mistake as a capital crime. 
 We should not cast a gloom over the whole house because the 
 sugar-bowl is broken, or the butcher did not bring the beef 
 The broken bowl may make somebody more careful, and a little 
 ingenuity can compass a fine omelet folded over some minced 
 veal or beef, or oysters, while a half pound of cheese, cooked in 
 cream and crumbed crackers, will be a side-dish, and we shall 
 have a decent meal after all. There is no use condemning the 
 terrified maid who has spilled the gravy, as if she had murdered 
 our best grandfather ; we shall perhaps grow to be unlucky if 
 we always whine over our ill-luck ; let us clear up our faces and 
 see where the joke comes in, and mingle a little comedy with 
 our high tragedy, and our homes will be much the happier 
 for it." 
 
 "Another way to make Home happy, and a very common- 
 place way it is, is to have enough to eat ! " 
 
 " Yes," cried Dick ; " that's what I like — let us hear about 
 that." 
 
 " Give you ten minutes on that, aunt," said Hester, " and then 
 
HOW TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 471 
 
 it will be time for our supper, which Martha, Ann, and .Hannah 
 are laying out in fine style." 
 
 "A family table," I said, " should always be provided with an 
 ample supply of palatable, nourishing, well-cooked, and well- 
 served food. The expense of this food must be graduated by 
 the fulness of the family purse; some people can afford the first 
 strawberries and green peas ; can eat game and fowl when these 
 are dear, and can take the best cuts of beef and mutton ; they 
 are not obliged to be economical in providing for the table. 
 Other people must study the strictest economy in their family 
 marketing ; unless one has a hobby — as costly books, rare coins, 
 jewels or lace — the table is apt to absorb the greater part of the 
 ]iving-money, and our wastings and our savings are alike most 
 marked in our larder. But while we undertake to economize in 
 our meals, we must, as an old man was wont to say, do it 'Judg- 
 matic ally ; ' it is no real saving to buy too little, or unwholesome 
 food, for what we save in this direction is likely to be taken off 
 by doctors' and druggists' bills. However, there are very many 
 cheap articles of food which are quite as nourishing and pala- 
 table as those which are more expensive ; if we cannot buy sirloin 
 roast, or the finest porter-house steak, there are on the beef nice 
 boiling pieces, which sell for about half the price of these choice 
 cuts, yet are to the full as nutritious when well cooked ; if we 
 put the boiling-piece into cold water, and let it boil as hard as 
 it can, uncovered, we shall get little in vigor or flavor for our 
 money; but if, tightly covered, and well seasoned, it is put into 
 boiling water, and then kept gently simmering for several hours, 
 according to its size, you have a piece of meat which is relish- 
 ing and wholesome the first day ; will be nice when cold, slicea 
 thinly and covered with salad dressing; will cook over with 
 vegetables into a fine Irish stew; or minced fine, with seasoning 
 and potatoes, and poured over toast, will make an excellent 
 hash. A little parsley, a lemon or two, with rice for curry, or 
 
j72 the complete home. 
 
 mashed potatoes and sliced carrots, will afford almost endless 
 methods of cooking over such a bit of meat, and each time it 
 ^^''ll be agreeable to eye and palate. Samp, hominy, cracked 
 wheat and cracked oats, are invaluable articles of diet, and are 
 all cheap and capable of being cooked in many ways. In all 
 Dur country districts milk is cheap, and is in itself one of our 
 finest articles of food. If we cannot afford preserves, jellies and 
 canned fruits, we shall find dried peaches, apples and black- 
 berries very cheap, and even more healthful. 
 
 " In order that at each meal there shall be abundance, variety 
 and attractiveness, and this within the scope of our means, we 
 must have foresight in our housekeeping, and be provided in 
 advance of demand. Some housekeepers never ha\'e anything 
 ready in advance: they are always on the eve of bankruptcy 
 in the larder. Now it is not only as cheap, but much cheaper, 
 to have things made ready in advance of need, and in large 
 enough quantities. If you keep plenty of bread on hand, you 
 have the means of making milk or butter-toast, bread-pudding, 
 or you can steam the bread and set it on the table as nice as 
 when fresh from the oven ; you can make a well-seasoned 
 stuffing and re-dress with it, and roast the meat left cold from 
 yesterday, and, ornamented with parsley and lemons, it is a dish 
 for a queen. If you provide little jars of jelly and marmalade, 
 little pots of pickles, have cheese dry ready to grate, and meat 
 enough for a salad, or a dish of sandwiches, you can set a 
 luncheon before guest, or member of your family, without con- 
 fusion or delay. It detracts much from the happiness of home 
 ro feel that the unexpected appearance or invitation of a friend 
 will be like a bomb-shell flung into the domestic camp. And 
 yet when people have never anything ready, and the entrance 
 of a guest means a mad chase after a Shanghai and a frantic 
 mixing of biscuits, welcomes can scarcely be of the most 
 cordial. That mother of a household is a treasure indeed, whg 
 
ffOW TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 473 
 
 is always able to offer a lunch to friend or family, to pack a 
 delectable basket for a pic-nic on an hour's notice, to prepare, in 
 hot haste, a tasteful luncheon for a traveller to take on boat or 
 cars. Speaking of luncheon, you remember somebody says that 
 Pitt died of not eating luncheon. Where the dinner hour is late 
 people should not fast from breakfast until dinner. The system 
 runs out of supplies and begins feeding on itself; the brain 
 burns up the body ; like the fires of a distressed ship, where fuel 
 is exhausted, it burns up cargo, and wood-work, and lining to 
 keep itself going, and, if the craft continues to float, it is a mere 
 wreck. If we have dinner at four or five o'clock, then we 
 should not go to bed without supper : for the fast of fourteen or 
 sixteen hours until breakfast is too great a tax on our vitality, 
 [f we play tricks on our physique, and like the man famous 
 among fools, try to make our working beast live on a straw a 
 day, we shall, like him, find the brute, dying just as the experi- 
 ment reaches its climax." 
 
 "And what shall this luncheon be ? " asked Mary Watkins. 
 " Chocolate is very nice in cold weather, and lemonade in hot 
 tveather, if you can afford it. Where rich milk is plenty, 
 nothing is more delicious than a dish of brown bread and milk, 
 and a plate of fresh berries. Sandwiches, either of ham, beef or 
 tongue, are good. A salad is always in place. A delightful 
 salad can be made of white lettuce, bleached turnip-tops, and 
 celery finely cut, and wel' -dresser^ with the salad mixture 
 already recommended to you. A good white soup and stale 
 bread make a fair lunch also. Cold chicken; biscuit sliced 
 thin ; plain ' training-day gingerbread ; ' a plate of thin bread 
 and butter to accompany a plate of sardines laid out whole 
 and dressed with thin rounds of lemon, or of cucumber-pickle ; 
 a dish of crackers, and another of mixed figs and raisins — aU 
 these are good for luncheon. Have little cake or pie for that 
 I'leal, but plenty of fruit" 
 
474 THE COJIPLETE HOME. 
 
 "And what is reasonable for supper, if one dines at four of 
 five?" 
 
 "A glass of milk and some sponge-cake ; a thin slice of bread 
 and butter, and a baked apple ; a sandwich of grated tongue ; a 
 sandwich of very thin bread, buttered and seasoned ; and boiled 
 &^^ sliced very thin and used instead of meat. Perhaps, for 
 cool weather, the very best supper of all is what we borrow from 
 the Scotch : a dish of oatmeal porridge, eaten either with new 
 milk or with butter and sugar. Figs and fresh grapes are always 
 in order : one can hardly eat too freely of either ; and for most 
 people a small cup of cream and a slice of brown bread is a 
 treat fit for the gods." 
 
 We were now called out to a supper which was beautiful to 
 the eye and delectable to the taste, and very joyfully received 
 by the whole party. I thought my guests would, after supper, 
 branch out to more general subjects, and consider that they had 
 had instruction enough for one day. But, no; when we were 
 again in the parlor the insatiable James Frederick returned to 
 the charge, saying : 
 
 "Aunt Sophronia, you hinted that we should try to be in 
 order at any time to receive a friend at our table, without bein? 
 put to extra trouble, or begrudging the entertainment. People 
 also sometimes want to ask half-a-dozen friends or so to a little 
 dinner. Give us some hints how to do this in simple good 
 taste, when there is no one to prepare the feast but the lady ol 
 the house and an inexperienced Biddy or two. One would 
 not wish to make much display, nor to be in danger of being 
 ridiculous." 
 
 " Neatness, simplicity and hearty good-will are never ridicu- 
 lous," I replied; " and we must call these to our dinner-party. 
 In the case you suggest, I would recommend that as many of 
 the preparations as possible be made on the preceding day, so 
 that the hoste-;s will spare herself fatigue and hurry on the day 
 
HOW TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 475 
 
 when she must entertain her guests. Let the table-cloth be 
 spotlessly white, and ironed to a high polish ; ditto the napkins : 
 and the cloth and napkins must be ironed in folds to match, 
 whether straight folds, diamonds, triangles or boxes. Be careful 
 to stand the table straight, and lay the cloth exactly straight : a 
 side-table must have a smaller cloth, ironed to match. Have a 
 centre-piece of flowers, plain or elaborate, to suit your means and 
 taste ; a pair of clear glass-bowls, filled with lumps of ice, set at 
 matched distances, are an addition in ornament, and have the 
 ■ advantage, thus used, that when they begin to show their melt- 
 ing they can be removed with some course, while if the ice is 
 mingled in the centre-piece, it must stay, and become sloppy. 
 If the table is very large, a couple of small boats of flowers can 
 be added where there is room. There should also be a bouquet 
 on the side-board. On the side-table should be placed the 
 plates and other dishes requisite for changing the table. Every 
 dish and every article of glass should be brightly polished; 
 the silver should shine, and everj'- shining salt-cellar should be 
 freshly filled and printed in a small stamp. The soup-ladle 
 should be placed where it is to be used : so with the fish-trowel 
 and the tablespoons. Accurate table-setting is needful to pre- 
 vent confusion, and unless the servants are skilful the mistress 
 of the house had better spread the table herself before she goes 
 to dress. Where the first course is soup, a square or oblong 
 piece of stale bread should be laid on the napkin at each plate, 
 By every plate place two forks, a knife and a spoon : where there 
 is soup that is first course, and nothing else should be on the 
 table; but remember to have your caster polished and well 
 filled. When the soup or other plates are removed, do not let 
 them be piled together, but that of each diner removed sepa- 
 rately on a little server. During the serving of the soup the 
 waitress will stand with a small server at her mistress' left hand 
 to take the soup to the guests. Have your side-table in order* 
 
476 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 a dish of butter neatly stamped and two goblets, with spare 
 nat'kins with colored borders folded in points, improve its 
 ap:)earance. When the fish is set on, warm plates must be laid 
 be'bre each guest — no one wants fish on a cold plate. A boat 
 of fish sauce and a dish of salad come on with the fish. Most 
 cooks say, no vegetables with fish ; nothing but an appropriate 
 sal id; but some people like potatoes with fish, and the best 
 rule for dinner-giving is to please your guests' taste. Therefore, 
 you may, if you choose, send potatoes on with fish, dressed in 
 this wise : pare them evenly, and soak in cold salt water for an 
 hour ; wipe and slice as thin as paper ; have a sauce-pan of lard 
 as hot as can be without burning ; drop the slices in, a handful 
 at a time ; skim out with a skimmer in a couple of minutes, or 
 as soon as you see that they are done ; sprinkle with fine salt, 
 and pile on a platter, whereon is a fine napkin laid diamond-wise 
 with corners turned in : properly cooked, these potatoes will 
 not grease the napkin. Around the edge of this dish should be 
 parsley leaves, and lemon-peel chopped fine sprinkled over the 
 farsley. The broiled fish is improved by slices of lemon laid 
 wver it. Before removing the fish, carry away the fork and trowel 
 on a clean plate to the side-table. After the meats come fowls 
 and vegetables, for which hot plates must be served round. The 
 table must be finally relieved of all used dishes, of casters, and 
 unused silver and salt-cellars. If nuts are placed on the table 
 with dessert, salt-cellars should be passed around to each guest, 
 as nuts are always unwholesome eating without salt. After this 
 removal of dishes the table should be brushed with a curved 
 crumb-brush upon a small tray, or a large plate if you have no 
 tray. Let there be no haste nor confusion in making the 
 changes ; let the host and hostess converse easily with their 
 guests, and show no nervousness ; if any accident occurs, the 
 !ess said about it the better, and restore tranquillity as soon as 
 possible Extra napkins and a damask towel, also a wide knife 
 
HO IV TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 477 
 
 and a soup-plate should be in reserve on the back of the side- 
 table, quickly to repair any spilling of water or gravy. When 
 you use finger-bowls, they, with their colored damask napkins, 
 should be set at each plate as soon as the cloth is brushed : it is 
 well to sprinkle a few drops of cologne or of patchouli upon the 
 water of each bowl, but never any musk, as that is very, offensive 
 to some people. If such a misfortune happens as that any dish 
 is spoiled — as a burned fowl — and cannot be brought to the 
 table, let the hostess give no hint of the disaster, and make no 
 apologies. However, if she has given to the last possible min- 
 ute a wary eye to her kitchen, such disasters are unlikely to 
 occur. I have said nothing of serving wines ; I only mention it 
 now to assure you that a dinner can be served in good style and 
 in perfectly good taste without a drop of wine, or other fermented, 
 malt or alcoholic liquors used in preparing it or served with it, 
 and I entreat you all heartily to set yourselves against the 
 drinking customs of society, and avoid putting on your tables 
 that which may be the ruin of your own households and a snare 
 to the soul of your neighbor." 
 
 " I'm a temperance man from this out," declared Jamps Fred- 
 erick. 
 
 " I'll give a dinner next week," laughed Sara ; " it looks so 
 easy!" 
 
 "Yes, it looks easy," cried Belinda; "but after all there is a 
 tremendous amount of work to be done in a well-ordered house- 
 hold, and how is one ever to do it?" 
 
 " I suppose that is where the good management conies in," 
 said her elder sister. 
 
 " That is it exactly," I said : " good management makes all 
 
 this work move easily in its proper order; it takes away the 
 
 attrition and drag caused by disorder, people see their way 
 
 through each day, and know that for another day's work there 
 
 will be another day. Now I cut lately from a newspaper a 
 31 
 
478 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 paragraph by an observing correspondent, and I pasted it in my 
 scrap-book. Grace,,it is worthy of being well read, and there- 
 fore you shall read it." 
 
 I handed Grace my scrap-book, and she read as follows : 
 " We see so many farmers working hard from the beginning 
 of the year to its end, and that year after year, till life ends, 
 with such small results, that we do wish to impress upon the 
 community the true principle of economy a farmer's wife once 
 expressed to us in one word — calculation. We found her a 
 slender-looking woman, surrounded by a flock of children, and 
 having the care of a dairy of a dozen cows, with no Bridget to 
 assist her, and still everything moved on like clock-work. The 
 children were tidy, the house neat, the cooking nice, and the 
 butter of gilt-edged quality. We watched her to study the 
 secret of her economical management. She never seemed to be 
 in a hurry, certainly never in a fret, but went from one thing to 
 another as calmly and pleasantly as the butterfly goes from one 
 ^ower to another. We noticed that she had every convenience 
 for her work. Water flowed constantly in her kitchen and 
 dairy-room, and her churning was done by dog-power. We 
 A^ere satisfied, however, that the secret of her efficiency was not 
 in churns, dogs, water, nor any other conveniences for labor, 
 and we finally asked, ' How do you accomplish all your work 
 with such apparent ease ? ' With a toss of her bead and a 
 pleasant smile she replied, ' By calculation. Before I go to bed 
 I set my table and make all arrangements for breakfast. Before 
 I get up in the morning I think over the labors of the day, and 
 plan everything out, assigning each duty its time, and when 
 the time comes I attend to the duty — and now the time has 
 come for me to skim my milk ; so please excuse me.' Upon this 
 she bowed herself out with the grace of a queen. We could not 
 help thinking, happy is the farmer that has such a help-meet." 
 
 After a little discussion of the theme of good management in 
 domestic work. Grace said: 
 
ffOW TO MAJTE HOME HAPPY. 479 
 
 " H,ow time flies, and there are dozens of things which I 
 wanted to ask Aunt Sophronia to give us a few suggestions 
 about. There are so many little ways of adding to the hap 
 piness of home." 
 
 " Yes," said Ned Burr, " and one of my favorite ways i 
 keeping house-plants. I dote on them. They make a hous 
 twice as handsome, and there is always something fresh, curiou* 
 and interesting in them to look at. I mean to have plenty of 
 them in my house. What say you about them, ladies ? " 
 
 " Some people have the knack of keeping them, and have 
 splendid luck with them," said Miss Black ; " but as sure as I 
 try to have any, they die of a hundred diseases unknown before, 
 somebody runs into my stand and knocks it over, or a terrific 
 freeze reduces them all to black stalks." 
 
 " Diseases are often occasioned," replied Ned Burr, " by the 
 green plant-fly which sucks out their juice, or by worms in the 
 pot. For the fly, soapsuds or weak tobacco water syringed 
 over the plants, or washing leaves and stems in ammonia water 
 with a camel's-hair brush will be a means of riddance ; for 
 worms in the pot, wet with weak lime water ; the red spider is 
 a vile plague, but a shower-bath and moist air will settle him. 
 If your flowers mould or mildew, blow a little sulphur powder 
 on them through a quill." 
 
 " Some plants fall ill," said Sarah, " from too dry air ; a pan 
 of water should stand on the stove, or a wet towel should be 
 hung over the register to moisten the air. Sometimes the fee- 
 bleness of the plant is caused by lack of nourishment : ammonia 
 water supplies this ; at other times the earth gets packed too 
 closely in the pot, and no air meets the roots : it is well to stir 
 the earth lightly with a fork. Each pot should have drainage, 
 and flowers should not be kept too wet, especially in cold 
 weather, for it causes them then to frost more easily. We 
 should remember the ways of nature: leaves and stems are 
 
480 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 wet and washed by the summer shower, and often a spaking 
 rain penetrates even to the lowest roots and ' fills all their veins 
 with coolness ; ' but the earth is not all the time sodden on the 
 surface. Plants need fresh air several times a week : if the sun is 
 shining and the temperature is not too low, open the window 
 upon them and let them breathe ; give them sun according to 
 their kind. If they get frost-nipped, set them in a dark place 
 and shower them daily with cold water, gradually raising their 
 temperature. When the plant promises to bloom too early, nip 
 out the flower bud. When a branch or leaf cluster puts out in 
 an ungainly place, nip it off Sometimes when the plant is 
 sickly, a close pruning and removing it to another pot will help 
 it. Pick off dead leaves : do not let them exhaust the plant by 
 hanging on half-withered. If plants are to add to the happiness 
 of home, let the home have a share in them : let the children 
 own some and cultivate them, let them be used to decorate the 
 table, and to send to the poor or tlie sick. The plants will look 
 better for all the good they can be made to do. Let each 
 member of the family have his favorite flowers ; some prefer one 
 kind, some another. Plants should be on a strong stand that 
 cannot be readily knocked over, and which is on casters so that 
 it can be moved occasionally in cleaning the room." 
 
 " Speaking of house-plants, and of their care in winter," said 
 Hester, " reminds me of that long, cold season when the day. 
 light flies early. If home is to be happy, we must have some 
 entertainment for these long evenings. Even where the family 
 are engaged in study, there are some free evenings, and an hou^ 
 or so each evening to spare. A home is not fulfilling its mission 
 where the family must go abroad to find all their entertainment." 
 
 " That is true," I responded ; " and first, one thinks of music 
 as a family entertainment. Where young people have musical 
 taste, and . can sing and play together, and are able to have 
 two or three instruments, as piano, organ, flute, violin or guitar, 
 
J/0 IV TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 45I 
 
 rfiey will pass many hours in innocent happiness, entertainiag 
 themselves, and pleasing the friends who come in. Another 
 very charming accomplishment — one, indeed, which has no 
 superior — is that of reading aloud well.. As some families are 
 all good musicians, so there are some who are all good readers ; 
 in either case the faculty should be sedulously cultivated. Some 
 families are happy in possessing both readers and musicians. 
 By good reading I do not mean loud, excited, tragical tones — 
 these often strain and weary the hearer ; but good reading seizes 
 the spirit of the piece read, understands its heart meaning, and 
 through the ear translates it to the listener's heart. It gives the 
 fun, the pathos, the excitement, wonder, logic, or confusion and 
 quaint turn, which were in the author's mind. 
 
 " In good reading there is nothing mechanical. It is not 
 droning over a certain set of sounds, which mean nothing to the 
 heart of the reader, and, consequently, not to that of the hearer. . 
 The reader must be in a certain sympathy with what he reads, 
 and by some subtle magnetism he will compel the sympathy of 
 his listener. This is an accomplishment which seems to be 
 always in place. There are in many households some whose 
 eyes will not permit them to read much for themselves ; or 
 there are some who can illy spare time to read. The busy 
 mother finds herself in a strait betwixt two : she wishes to read 
 and enjoy the last book, or to take the paper and find out what 
 is going on in the world ; but she has the family mending to do. 
 How much more swiftly will her needle fly through rents and 
 darns when a good reader is filling her ear with sweet sounds 
 and fascinating descriptions, adding to the ' charm of the poet, 
 the music of the voice.' By reading, many can be gratified at 
 once. Little children are generally fascinated by the reading 
 even of things which they do not understand, and there is no 
 finer and surer way to develop mind than this. Young people 
 may be led, by the charm of being read to, to follow such works 
 
482 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 as Bancroft, Motley, Macaulay, Rawlinson, and other weighty 
 writers. The siclc, unless they are very siclt, find the hours of 
 illness beguiled of their tedium by a good reader. He who 
 reads well can bring in their full impressiveness to the invalid's 
 ear some suitable passages of Scripture. Nothing more culti- 
 vates good taste, intelligence and family affection, than this 
 accomplishment. Be sure, then, and all learn to read well 
 aloud." 
 
 "And," said Miriam, " next to the art of reading well, let us 
 set the art of telling a story well. What can make the family 
 table more genial, than to have some one tell, really well, an 
 appropriate and not too long story? It persuades the mind 
 from care, and awakens that jolly laughter which promotes 
 digestion. No art is more needful to a mother than this of 
 story-telling. It charms away the pain of a sick child ; dis- 
 sipates a fit of sulks, or a quarrel, as the sun pwts to flight a 
 cloud ; while children's minds seize best the moral lesson con- 
 tained in a short story. We have in the Parables an example of 
 conveying teaching in a tale." 
 
 " I never could tell a story well," said Helen. " I begin, 
 ' Well, once upon a time,' but I come to the end of everything 
 almost immediately. The middle of my narrative is exactly 
 like the beginning, and the end is just like the middle, while all 
 the parts are as near each other as peas in a pod. My story is 
 just like that horrible thing they used to torment me with when 
 \ was little : 
 
 " ' I'll tell you a story of old Mother Gorey, and now my story's begun i 
 I'll tell you another, about her brother, and now my story's done.' " 
 
 We all laughed at Helen's description of her truly Arabian 
 powers ; but Hester said, briskly : 
 
 "You can tell a story well if you only think you can, Helen. 
 You have made a very nice little story of your trials in this line. 
 Forget that it is a story that you are telling ; put out of your 
 
ffOW TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. 485 
 
 mind everything but what you are talking about. When you 
 read, or hear a nice thing, go over it in your mind several times 
 thinking how best to tell it. Tale-telling is an art worthy of 
 cultivation. A good story-teller is a good talker, and a good 
 talker is always welcome. Like a new Curtius, he throws him- 
 self into the awful chasm which will open in the midst of con- 
 versations, and so rescues, if not his country, the company." 
 
 " If it is lawful to compare small things to great ; as said the 
 shepherd, talking of great Rome and Mantua," said Ned Burr. 
 
 And as it was now quite late my merry guests departed, 
 declaring that the evening had been as profitable as it had beea 
 pleasant 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL HOMES. 
 
 |UR last Christmas week proved a very agreeable and 
 instructive occasion to many in our village. We re- 
 ceived a great deal of information about the Homes of 
 Other Days. It happened that at a church sociable, 
 held about the middle of December, Mr. Winton made some 
 remarks about Christmas as peculiarly a home festival ; not only 
 is it the festival which with gifts and games seems especially 
 dear to children, and most warmly celebrated in homes where 
 there are young people, but it commemorates the birth of the 
 Christ Child, the setting up of the family of Joseph and Mary, 
 the coming near to men of God as a Father, and Christ as an 
 elder Brother. This led to some talk about the various lands 
 where Christmas is celebrated, and about the various centuries 
 in which this holiday has been observed, and so on to talk of 
 Homes in different ages. 
 
 I think it v/as Hester who finally proposed that Christmas 
 week should by us be dedicated to a set of sociables at various 
 houses, whereat our host should tell us whatever was possible 
 of some ancient fashion of home, using whatever illustrations 
 of picture or relic might be convenient. 
 
 " The first of these homes which we discuss," said Mr. Burr, 
 " must be the patriarchal, and I propose that we hold our first , 
 meeting at the parsonage, and our minister shall tell us what he 
 knows of man's earliest home-life." 
 
 " It is probable," said our minister, when we were all seated 
 (484) 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL HOMES. 485 
 
 in his parlor at our first Christmas sociable, " that the domestic 
 life of Terah, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was very much like 
 that led by the patriarchs before the flood. We must remember, 
 first, that the very long lives of men in those days would be 
 likely to advance rapidly art and invention, and we must not 
 look upon these early fathers of our race as living in a gross or 
 barbaric state, but surrounded by the simple comforts of life ; 
 and next we must remember, that while these patriarchs lived 
 a wandering life in tents, continuing probably much of the 
 manner of living of the Antediluvians, in Chaldea, and Egypt, 
 and possibly in other countries, men were- living in cities, 
 raising great buildings, tombs, palaces and temples ; were going 
 to war, and devoting themselves to manufactures, and agri- 
 culture, and all the arts of life. But the tent-life of the 
 patriarch is our earliest model of the Home. Before the Flood 
 the children of Seth most likely abode in the territory called 
 the Land of Eden, and worshipped God before the fiery presence, 
 or Shekinah, which kept the gate of Eden. After the Flood 
 we find the patriarchs building an altar for worship and sacrifice 
 wherever they made a stay of a few months. The chief prop- 
 erty of the patriarchs consisted of flocks, and herds, and droves 
 of camels, and asses. The enumeration of Job's wealth gives 
 us an idea of these possessions of an eastern rich man. These 
 required a vast number of servants to attend them. ' Servants 
 born in the house' represent master and dependents clinging 
 together for generations. If the master were childless, the chief 
 of his servants was likely to become his heir. The master of 
 the family was both its king and priest: he administered the 
 Jaws and offered sacrifices. Chief over the servants stood the 
 steward, who was to his master a faithful, confidential friend, 
 as Eliezer to Abraham, given even such business as selecting a 
 wife for his master's son. The extent of the family retinue may 
 be guessed from the fact that Abraham could arm three hundred 
 
i86 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 men from his own trained servants. Such an immense estab- 
 lishment moved slowly through a country. The choice of a 
 resting-place depended on certain natural advantages : a grove 
 for shade, near lying pasture and water. Finding these, the 
 tents were pitched, an altar built, a well or two dug, and the 
 servants, with the different flocks and herds, scattered themselves 
 in suitable locations at greater or less distance. So Job's flocks 
 and herds were stationed over a large extent of country, and 
 Jacob's sons removed with their flocks to a distance of several 
 days' journey. On the line of march the camels and asses 
 were laden with the tents and furniture ; the women and 
 children sometimes rode and sometimes walked, and the pace 
 suited the needs of the flocks and herds accompanied by their 
 young." 
 
 " It seems," said Mr. Nugent, " that I now get a clear view of 
 su':h a cavalcade moving slowly through the land ; and now that 
 they have found a grove like that of oaks at Mamre, how does 
 their encampment look ? " 
 
 " Their tents," said our minister, resuming his theme, " were 
 of skins, or of cloth of woven hair. The coarse black hair of 
 the camel made a dark tent, referred to in the expression, 
 ' black as the tents of Kedar.' These tents were supported by 
 poles. The master and mistress had large ones ; the servants 
 smaller, according to their position. Often in summer the ser- 
 vants, especially the flock-tenders, slept in the open air, or in 
 booths made of branches. The tents are pitched in a circle 
 generally, and if the camping is for a long period, a light watch- 
 tower is erected a short distance ofi". The patriarch had a tent 
 for himself; his wife had her own, where her younger children 
 remained with her ; a tent was often reserved for the reception 
 of guests ; the principal women-servants had their tent ; the 
 grown sons had theirs, and as the sons took wives, new tents 
 were added to the camp. The large tents were divided by 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL HOMES. 487 
 
 curtains into three apartments. The furniture was simple : mats 
 and rugs, pillows and coverlets, in use at night, were piled up 
 by day for seats; the camels' furniture also served as seats, 
 Hand-mills for grinding wheat, bottles of leather, pots and 
 basins, a portable oven, and flat plates or trays of metal, were 
 among the principal belongings, with cups, pitchers, and knives. 
 People generally ate from a large common dish, using their 
 hands or a cake of bread to dip up their food; hence, fre- 
 quent washings of the hands." 
 
 "And," I asked, " what were the occupations of these fam- 
 ilies ? " 
 
 " Many of the servants, also the sons of the family, led out 
 the flocks to pasture, and guarded them night and day. The 
 steward oversaw this work, and morning and evening ' told ' or 
 counted the flocks. Some members of the family hunted, 
 bringing in game for food. This was Esau's favorite occupa- 
 tion. Sometimes the nomades remained long enough in a 
 locality to raise a crop of grain, or harvest fruit, or gather a 
 vintage, drying grapes and dates, and making wine. The 
 women spun and wove the garments for the family and the 
 curtains of the tents. The men made sandals and camels' 
 furniture, and dressed skins. When guests came, the master 
 and mistress showed their hospitality by themselves serving 
 them, preparing food and so forth, instead of delegating these 
 offices to servants. Their principal diversions were in music, 
 having a number of simple instruments, usually accompanied 
 by the voice ; also the telling of stories and reciting of poems : 
 these are yet the chief diversions of Oriental lands. Writing 
 was practised, and astronomy was a favorite study." 
 
 "And what about their dress ? " demanded Helen. 
 
 "Travelling caravans supplied them with the fine linen of 
 Egypt, and the dyed stuffs of Phoenicia, and the splendid cloths 
 of the Assyrians and Chaldeans. The women spun, wove and 
 
488 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 sewed. The veil was a customary and often elaborate article. 
 Jewels, as rings, bracelets, anklets, head-tires and necklaces, 
 wore purchased from caravans, and much property was invested 
 in these and in mirrors of polished metal. They also wore 
 elaborate embroideries. Perfumes were in constant use, and 
 much time was occupied in preparing them. The staff, the seal 
 and the amulet were choice personal possessions. Combs and 
 pins of metal, highly ornamented, were also among their treas- 
 ures. Scarlet and white were the choice hues; black and deep 
 brown belonged to servants and to mourning." 
 
 "And what were the chief articles of food?" asked Miriam. 
 
 "Vegetables, especially varieties of beans and melons; fruit, 
 the fig, date, grape and olive being chief; wheaten cakes, olive 
 oil and honey ; milk, cheese and curds ; fish, when obtainable ; 
 locusts, game, birds, and the flesh of goats, sheep, and kine, 
 but flesh was sparingly used. The killing of an animal for food 
 was regarded in a half sacrificial light. The animal was chosen 
 and killed by the patriarch himself, and the blood was poured 
 out in sacrifice. The wife, even though a chief princess, 
 esteemed it her proper duty to prepare the food, leaving but 
 minor parts of this work to her attendant maids. .Water, milk, 
 the juice of dates, and a sour thin wine of grapes afforded their 
 drink. Sweetmeats of fruit and honey were in use." 
 
 " Hospitality was freely exercised, I think," said John Roche- 
 ford. 
 
 " Yes, the orientals were always noted for this : a guest was 
 always in some sort an angel unawares, breaking the monotony 
 of their lives. They had also family feasts and festivals, as on 
 the naming or weaning of a child, or his coming to man's 
 estate." 
 
 After this information given by our pastor, we spent the 
 remainder of the evening in general discussion of the theme, 
 and appointed our next meeting at Hester's, where she and 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL HOMES. 4g9 
 
 Doctor Nligent must be prepared to expound to us the Classic 
 Home. We expected something rather nice at Hester's, because 
 there they have plenty of money, and their house is full of 
 curiosities and antiquities, while we knew their hearts were set 
 on entertaining us as well as possible! We were not disap- 
 pointed. We were received in the front parlor, and when the 
 hour for the Home discussion came, the folding doors were drawn 
 back, and we found hung across the whole width of the back 
 parlor a large painted canvas, representing the interior of a 
 Classic H/3me. Before this picture stood a low table with various 
 curiosities piled upon it. Doctor Nugent began the discussion. 
 " We hjive concluded to discuss, under the head of the Classic 
 Home, both the homes of. Greece and Italy, without dividing 
 between them; especially as in an evening like this, one can only 
 describe chief points without going into particulars. The pic- 
 ture which we have here represents the restoration of one of the 
 homes in Pompeii, and from it we gather a general idea of the 
 home of z, rich citizen of Greece or Rome about the time of 
 Christ. In Rome, the home of the Empress Livia has been 
 found find laid open; also, in Greece, we have found the remains 
 of both palaces and private homes, and we find the same general 
 plan in all. Observe that the rooms are small, the ceilings are 
 low, the walls are painted in brilliant hues — orange, scarlet and 
 blue being favorite; and pictures are not framed and hung on 
 the wall as with us, but painted upon it. The chief floors are 
 mosaiced — that is, made of small cubes of stones of various 
 colors, bedded solidly in mortar to form a pattern as a border, 
 corner arabesques, and a centre-piece, as a pair of doves, a dog, 
 a group of figures, or flowers. These rooms enter upon a 
 central court, open to the sky, but screened by a pavilion from 
 the sun. Here plays a fountain, the delight of the whole 
 family ; here vines grow, and jars of plants are in bloom. The 
 floor of the court is in mosaic; around the sides and around 
 
490 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 the fountain are seats or divans in marble or stone ; the ancients 
 delighted in statuary, and choice works of art are placed in the 
 court or in the rooms opening from it. These were supposed to 
 create beauty of body and mind in the beholders." 
 
 " I observe," said Mrs. Winton, " that these rooms have not 
 doors, but draperies hanging from their door-posts." 
 
 ' Yes," said Doctor Nugent, " and notice the elegance of the 
 effect. Thf.se walls are of white marble, or the pillars are of 
 polished jJ'one or carved wood. Here hang these heavy cur- 
 tains in blue, purple or scarlet, with gold embroideries or deep 
 fringes : they can be dropped for privacy or looped back, throw 
 ing the whole house into one apartment. For windows we have 
 only these smnll, high-up, latticed openings; for fires the bra- 
 zier full of glowing coals ; or possibly some of the apartments 
 have a raised floor under which beat is introduced, and that is 
 called the liypocMist — a Greek word meaning a fire beneath. I 
 wish to say that the Classic Home carefully attended to three 
 important points : heat, drainage and baths. The drains were 
 supplied with metal or clay-pipes running to the cloaccs or 
 drains of the city ; the houses also had deep, covered rubbish 
 pits, and water was freely introduced. When one looks at frag- 
 ments of ancient plumbing, one wonders at so small present 
 advance in the plumber's art. The bath-rooms had tubs, seats 
 around the sides and gayly painted walls. The beauty of the 
 painted and frescoed walls, the elegance lent by open jars oi 
 vases of perfume, the presence of elegant statuary and the abun- 
 dant use of flowers gave these homes a marvellous grace and 
 refinement, and we do not wonder that they produced painters,, 
 poets, sculptors, orators. Notice also that the Classic Home is 
 a religious Home in its way : the fire on the hearth-stone is 
 sacred to the household lares, or hearth-gods ; this shrine with 
 images is the place of the penates, or household divinities, and 
 here they offer flowers, incense and prayers. In this corner of 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIMVAL HOMES. 491 
 
 the largest room you see a carved wooden chest, something like 
 ■1 little wardrobe : that is the family book-case. In that are 
 kept the precious parchment books, rolled and tied, wrapped in 
 silk,- and scattered with perfumes. Books were not then given 
 to children to tear up: books were venerated and treasured, and 
 were choice heirlooms. Here is something else which was an 
 heirloom: this elegant vase and bowl of Samian ware: these 
 and crystal goblets were choice treasures. We are told of one 
 Roman noble who condemned a slave-boy to be eaten alive by 
 carp, because at a feast he bi'oke a crystal goblet. The emperor, 
 who was present, for his cruelty, freed the slave, and ordered 
 all this master's goblets to be broken." 
 
 " I should like," said Mrs. Winton, " to hear something of 
 these slaves." 
 
 " They were," said Doctor Nugent, " both captives taken in war 
 and slaves born in the house. Power of life, death and torture 
 lay in the hands of the masters, and often this power cruelly ex- 
 ercised, so that this slavery was often a terrible thing. Another 
 view of it is, that slaves being made free could take any rank in 
 society to which they had genius to attain, and reached often 
 very lofty positions, being friends of emperors and nobles. They 
 were adopted and made heirs by childless masters ; they were 
 often educated to be the family schoolmasters or tutors. The 
 famous philosopher Epictetus was a slave. They were often the 
 scribes and readers of the family ; if the master were too lazy to 
 learn his letters, he had his slave learn in his place. Many of 
 these slaves were artists and artificers." 
 
 " Let us hear something about dress and social customs," 
 said Mrs. Burr. 
 
 " That is Mrs. Nugent's part of the discussion," said the Doc- 
 tor ; and pulling a cord, he let down over the large canvas of 
 the home three smaller ones — the picture of a Roman woman, 
 one of a young boy, and a central picture of a dining-hall, with 
 guests seated at a supper. 
 
492 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 We all considered the dress very beautiful : it was a white 
 robe, with wide sleeves falling back from the middle of the arm; 
 the skirt hanging in easy folds to the ankle, and showing the 
 ornamented sandal ; at the hem of the dress, and at the waist, a 
 band of purple indicated the wearer's noble blood ; the hair, not 
 frizzed and twisted out of shape, but gathered up into a loose 
 knot, following the contour of the head, was held in place by a 
 large ornamental pin, and by a narrow fillet of gold, passing 
 about the head. The fillet was not the only jewel, for she had 
 rings, bracelets and a chain ; also a mirror at her girdle. The 
 lad was represented as crowned with a garland, and going to a 
 feast, having just assumed his toga virilis, or man's dress. The 
 picture of the table next attracted us. 
 
 Said Hester: "This table occupied three sides of a square; 
 the fourth was left open so that the servants could freely enter 
 to wait on guests. The host and his family occupied the places 
 on the lowest or left-hand sofa or couch — all reclining on one 
 arm at the meal. The place of honor was the lowest on the 
 middle couch. Guests were sprinkled with perfumes : it was the 
 custom for the servants to pour perfumed water from urns over 
 the hands held above a basin, and towels ' with a soft nap ' were 
 then offered for wiping them. The guests wore garlands of 
 flowers — myrtle, parsley and olive were favorites at feasts, 
 Songs and conversation enlivened the progress of the feast; a 
 deal of wine was used, and the feasting was carried through 
 many courses and several hours. Fruits, flesh, vegetables, 
 sweetmeats of all kinds loaded the tables. Fortunes were spent 
 upon a single meal, and such dishes as peacocks' brains and 
 nightingales' tongues were used for their costliness rather than 
 for their flavor. Honey, used alone or made into cakes, was 
 much prized. The slaves cooked and served the meal, entering 
 in a long procession, bearing the dishes. These slaves waited 
 on the table with their tunics kilted up out of the way, and 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL HOMES. 493 
 
 Horace ridicules a man who, to be fashionable, has his slaves 
 bind their robes very high." 
 
 "And did they use cooking utensils like ours, and dishes like 
 ours?" asked Mary Watkins. 
 
 " They had tripods or square frames .or holding pots over a 
 fire ; they used ladles, skimmers., with draining holes in them 
 knives, long flesh-hooks, spits for roasting; a mill for grinding, 
 this mill being made of two stones, with a handle in the upper 
 one, and a groove out of which the flour may run ; they used 
 mortars for pounding fruit and spices; chopping bowls also. 
 They had bowls, goblets, platters, deep dishes, from which 
 several ate at once ; pitchers, usually of elegant shape ; also 
 baskets for bread and cakes. They had table-cloths, and nap- 
 kins for the hands. All household utensils, clothes, draperies, 
 couches, bed furniture, chairs and foot-stools were expected to 
 last longer than with us ; they were handed down from father to 
 son ; much property was invested in elegant jewels and in choice 
 robes. This properi.' was cared for by the head slaves." 
 
 "And what was the family life of these people ? " asked Cousin 
 Ann. 
 
 "The young children remained in the care of their mothers; 
 at eight or nine the boys began to go to school, when a slave, 
 called a pedagogue, followed them to and from their master, 
 carrying their books and guarding them. Girls also learned 
 reading, writing and music, but were more usually instructed at 
 'home; they were also adepts in weaving, spinning and embroid 
 ery. Mothers seem to have had a large influence over their 
 sons. These Roman and Greek ladies were generally much 
 devoted to their religion; were deeply attached to their children, 
 and looked well to the ways of their households; they were 
 often very cruel to their slaves, and this indulgence in bad pas- 
 sions hardened their whole natures, so that often deformed or 
 
 *eeble children were deliberately cast out at their birth to die ; 
 3^ 
 
494 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 or, if more children came into the family than the family prop- 
 erty would be likely to endow, these were cast out to perish, or 
 be picked up by strangers. Daughters were often dedicated 
 from infancy to be priestesses at shrines, especially to those of 
 Vesta and Diana. Vestal priestesses had high honors." 
 
 "What were the holiday amusements of these families?" 
 inquired Belinda Black. 
 
 " The theatre, where plays or poems were recited or sung in 
 the open air, was a favorite resort; gladiatorial games; triumphal 
 processions ; beast fights ; shows given by candidates for political 
 honors, or by the emperors ; the singing or reciting of long 
 poems — all these called out the people by thousands. The Col- 
 osseum was a magnificent circular building many stories high, 
 dedicated entirely to such displays. They also loved gardens 
 and rural festas ; had many supper parties ; entertained their 
 callers with refreshments, and with exhibiting their jewelry, and 
 the rich garments brought from foreign lands." 
 
 " Were they not very extravagant an^'. luxurious ? " asked 
 Grace. 
 
 '■ They became so by degrees as they grew rich and powerful; 
 they then indulged madly in gaming, drinking and feasting ; the 
 softness and effeminacy of manner that was once despised be- 
 .came the prevailing style. Immediately the nation began to 
 ■weaken; their poets sang no more of gods and heroes, but of 
 I lovers and of wine ; their reverence for their gods perished ; they 
 : grew too lazy to labor, too weak to fight ; corruption, bribery 
 and murder became common, and these niighty nations fell be- 
 :fore the strong barbarians of the North." 
 
 "And," said Doctor Nugent, "it is the home of these Northern 
 t barbarians, our ancestors, the home of Celt, Saxon and Norman, 
 at which we must next look. Mrs. Burr, we go to you at our 
 ■next meeting to hear about the Celt." 
 
 We now had opportunity to examine the curiosities on the 
 •table. Belinda Black picked up a little glass vial. 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIMVAL HOMES. 495 
 
 " What is this ? " she cried ; " a perfume-bottle ? " 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Winton ; " that is a lachrymal or tear-bottle, 
 where mourners were supposed to treasure up their tears as 
 memorials of their woe. You remember the verse in the 
 Psalms : ' Thou puttest all my tears into thy bottle ? ' These 
 lachrymals wet;e often buried with their dead." 
 
 "And what is this largest piece in the centre ? — it looks sortie^ 
 thing like a marble soup-tureen," cried Dick. 
 
 " That is another funereal relic," said Doctor Nugent ; " that 
 is an urn for the ashes of the dead. After the body was burned 
 the ashes were quenched in wine and gathered into an urn. The 
 body was burned with treasures and spices." 
 
 A number of Roman coins, medals, rings and amulets were 
 also on the table. We especially admired two lamps: swan- 
 shaped bowls, with fanciful recurved heads, which served for a 
 handle, were to be filled with oil, and in this ^ wick floated ; we 
 thought, however, they would be but a poor substitute for our 
 present lamps, to say nothing of gas. There was also a beauti- 
 ful wide, flat bowl, ornamented with winged heads and wreaths 
 of olive, which Doctor Nugent said was a bronze patera, from 
 which priests poured libations of oil, wine or milk, in o^ering to 
 the gods. A drinking-cup, shaped like a horn, some combs 
 and a little metal hand-mirror completed the collection. 
 
 " Now," said Grace Winton, when we had gathered at Mrs 
 Burr's, "we shall hear how our great-great-greatest grand- 
 fathers, the Celts, lived and behaved themselves." 
 
 "They must have been horrible beings," said Miss Black. 
 "I read that they went without clothes, painted themselves 
 blue, and ate people ! Is that true, Mrs. Burr ? " 
 
 "Doubtless," said Mrs. Burr, "the barbarism of the early 
 Celts has been exaggerated for the sake of magnifying the 
 races which came after them. The Celts in a full dress of blus 
 
496 TBE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 paint must have been either the representatives of the very 
 lowest tribes, or Celts decorated for war in a style to horrify 
 their enemies, just as Indians paint themselves for battle. 
 Probably the Celts of Ireland, in some tribes and instances, did 
 eat men under an idea of vengeance, or to increase, as it was 
 fancied, their bravery. The Celts were very brave, hardy in 
 body, strong of mind, and with a fine capacity for education. 
 When religion and education were introduced into Ireland, the 
 Celts of that "country soon became the saints and teachers of 
 the world. The Celts were religious in their natures : their 
 ideas of God, the soul and the future were vague but sublime ; 
 they had none of the trifling prettiness of the classic mythology. 
 Wisdom they reverenced greatly. Their most promising youths 
 were sent to school to the Druids to learn to become priests : 
 they sometimes spent twenty years in their education. This 
 time was employed by them in committing runes and hymns. 
 The Celtic women were strong in body and fierce in spirit; they 
 frequently went to war with the men ; they also loved the chase. 
 The weapons of the Celts were of stone and bronze." 
 
 '' What kind of places of worship did they have ? " asked 
 Helen. 
 
 " Great circles of stone, open to the sky, with an altar in the 
 centre ; on this altar they often sacrificed human victims." 
 
 "And what kind of houses did they have — are any left?" 
 
 " Three or four remnants of such houses exist : some on the 
 shore of the Irish Sea, one or two in Scotland. These are 
 beehive huts, with low, circular stone walls; they were about 
 fifteen feet in diameter, and possibly as many high in the 
 centre — no fires, no separate rooms. The fire was out of doors, 
 a great bonfire in the centre of the hut circle, where they 
 roasted their meat on spits before the fire, or making a great 
 hole, lined it with red-hot stones, and putting a whole boar 
 therein covered it with cinders and hot ashes, and so baked it" 
 
AA\IZ.\'T AND MEDIEVAL HOMES. 497 
 
 " Then, did they never boil food ? " asked Mary Watkihs. 
 
 " Yes ; they had clay-pots which they set in hot ashes, and 
 made the water boil by dropping in red-hot stones." 
 
 "A fine way to boil potatoes ! " cried Belinda Black. 
 
 "They had no potatoes, for they have been but lately 
 discovered and cultivated. They had beans, and they ground 
 meal in a quern, such as our minister described to you as a mill 
 in patriarchal times. What a trouble it was to strike a fire, 
 when there were no matches, and flints must be struck together^ 
 or sticks rubbed on each other to elicit the wonderful spark ! 
 Furnished with clubs and with rude knives of flint, these Celts 
 killed and flayed elks, oxen, bears and wolves ; they dug caves 
 for store-houses or habitations, cut down trees, cut up peat for 
 fuel, and managed to scrape the surface of the ground, and sow 
 a little grain. They dressed skins and made rude cloth for 
 clothing; they made nets, and in boats of ox-hide stretched 
 on a wicker frame they went out fishing ; they made baskets 
 of osier and willows, caught birds in traps, or shot them with 
 arrows or with stones. In such rude homes the feeble soon 
 died, the strong only survived. At mid-winter they kept a 
 feast in honor of the northern gods. They boiled ducks, as I 
 told you, by red-hot stones ; hung the haunches of elks on sticks 
 before the fire; the women made cakes by pounding up grain 
 and spreading the wet meal on stones before the fire to dry into 
 bread. The fortunate hunters put over their doorways the horns 
 of an ox, sometimes eleven feet across : these were their 
 trophies. They made for their children bows, clubs, tiny hide- 
 boats, and knives of bone. They sang songs of battle, and of 
 the fierce gods of the North-land. When wild beasts attacked 
 them they fought them like beasts also, and the best hunter was 
 the best man." 
 
 "And how did these people bury their dead ? " asked Miriam. 
 
 " In barrows or mounds. With the dead body they put food, 
 
498 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 weapons, household utensils. Many of these barrows yet exist 
 A rude people, indeed, yet with, the elements of grand civil- 
 ization in them. Many of the Celtic tongues still remain, and 
 some of their runes and songs are very lofty and poetic. The 
 introduction of the Roman civilization, then of Christianity, the 
 mingling, first, with the strong Saxon, then with the more 
 polished Norman, have all contributed to change this furious 
 hunter-Celt, of the beehive hut, into the gentleman and scholar." 
 
 "Mrs. Burr showed us some portfolios of pictures which she 
 had made of Celtic relics : among these a hut, a barrow, a 
 cromlech or place of worship, some weapons, knives, a hand- 
 mill, a hand-made clay-pot, some water-jars and cups ; copies 
 from English books, or from articles in various museums." 
 
 Our next gathering was at Mrs. Winton's, and as the Saxons 
 succeeded the Celts in the British Islands, and were also in the 
 line of our ancestors, we were to hear next about them. Mr. 
 Winton had been so much occupied with his business that he 
 could not prepare for this occasion, and it fell to Mrs. Winton 
 to give us our information. She began thus : 
 
 "A tomb in an Anglo-Saxon cemetery takes us very tenderly 
 into the midst of the home-life of the Saxons. In this tomb 
 lies a lady, clasping the hand of her husband, who rests at her 
 right, and on her left arm reclines the body of a little girl. 
 Here is a family buried lovingly together. Families or married 
 pairs are often found thus buried in Saxon graves, and as these 
 people kept slaves, whom they held in close domestic relations, 
 they often had their slaves buried at the head and feet of their 
 own tombs.'' 
 
 " Please, before you go further," said Sara, " tell us what are 
 our sources of information concerning Saxon home-life ?" 
 
 " They are four," said Mrs. Winton ; " first, and least, are the 
 remains of a few ancient Saxon abodes; second, we have a few 
 old songs and tales which refer to domestic life; third, we have 
 
ANCIENT 4ND MEDIMVAL HOMES. 499 
 
 ancient manuscripts with illuminations, hand-painted pictures, 
 generally the productions of monkish writers, and these pictures 
 represent freely to us the dress, homes, furniture and manners 
 of the Saxons ; fourth, we have numerous mounds or barrows 
 where they buried their dead, putting with them money, 
 ornaments, clothes, weapons, utensils ; out of all these sources 
 we can quite clearly reconstruct the homes and home-life of our 
 Saxon ancestors, from twelve to seven hundred years ago." 
 
 " Why," asked Ned Burr, '" are there so few remains of Saxon 
 houses ? " 
 
 " The Saxons," replied Mrs. Winton, " were never a building 
 people : they had little genius for architecture. We get that 
 taste and capacity from our Norman blood, and that with Jewish 
 instructions, for Jews were the first to build good dwellings in 
 Britain. The Saxons laid a rough foundation, piled up earthen 
 walls, with a little of stone or reeds intermixed, laid on a thatch 
 of reeds and straw, and the house was done; it was but 0!._ 
 story high, and not all under one roof They made a grand 
 outer wall or fortification of earth ; this had one entrance, and 
 at one end they reared a two-story tower: this arrangement 
 was for defence. Next they made a central room or hall, wit^- 
 a roof having a hole in the centre ; under this hole, on the earth, 
 or stone-paved floor, they made a fire : even the houses of early 
 kings had no finer reception-room than this. Around this hall 
 were the sleeping-rooms or bowers for the family. These were 
 frequently detached from each other and the hall, had no fires, 
 and sometimes no windows ; the floor was paved or of wood, the 
 roof of thatch. We read of wild animals or of enemies getting 
 into these bowers and carrying off women or children, while 
 armed men lay in drunken sleep in the hall : so, too, often an 
 enemy would send a spy to scale the earth wall, and set fire to 
 these poor, straw-roofed homes. The walls of the wealthier 
 houses were hung with tapestry made by the women ; beds 
 
500 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 were wide shelves fastened to the wall, with sacks of straw on 
 them, and woollen coverlets : lords and kings had nothing better. 
 The floor had fresh rushes strewn on it in place of a carpet. 
 Even so late as the year looo, kings' rooms were carpeted 
 with straw or rushes strewn over the stone or earth floor. 
 The table was a wide plank on tressels, and when not in use 
 was stood up against the wall. From this fact comes ou 
 word board, as 'hospitable board,' for a dining-table. Amonj 
 great people it was common to have the table always laid out 
 with bread, meat and mead, for all to eat as they chose." 
 
 '• Were they not great drinkers of ale and beer? " asked Dick 
 
 " Yes, very. The horns of oxen and cows were often used as 
 drinking-cups, having figures carved on them, and metal rims. 
 As these could not stand up, they must be emptied at a draught 
 and laid down : a fine excuse for greedy drinking. Three- 
 legged stools were the common seats ; but they had ponderous 
 chairs with backs and arms, huge cushions, a footstool, and g 
 square of woven carpet, or tapestry, to lay under the feet. The 
 husband and wife were the king and queen of the fimily. They 
 had a great chair with two seats in which they sat throned at 
 the head of the board, or by the fire, while their children stood 
 next them, and the servants behind the children; or the elder 
 children sat on stools, and the servants stood. So at the table 
 all ate together : the parents in their big chair at the head ; the 
 guests and children next; the servants below the salt. A 
 guest, a priest and an eldest son were given places of honor." 
 
 " What fuel did they use ? " asked Mary Watkins. 
 
 " They had wood, coal, cinders, peat. For lights they had 
 from their Roman neighbors an open oil lamp with a floating 
 tvick, but used more frequently candels, very like our candles. 
 They were made by squeezing a lump of fat about a wick, and 
 this was stuck on a stick, or sharp iron ; thus we get the word 
 candle-stick. Notice that our words for fuel, as coal, cinders, 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIMVAL IWMES. 5(,1 
 
 «vood, our words for common food, for cooking utensilc, for 
 ordinary furniture, for domestic labors, and for family relations, 
 all come to us from our Saxon ancestors. Speaking of-'ar° and 
 lights, the Saxons, when they wanted some special illumination, 
 stuck many of their candels on a fanciful metal-bearer called a 
 ' candel-tre,' and the first fashion of our candelabras or chande- 
 liers. Our word larder, meaning a pantry for food, is Norman, 
 but the early Saxons had a word of the same meaning — ' Spic- 
 hus ; ' this meant the house of their food, and their chief article 
 of food was bacon, called by them ' spic! The Normans called 
 the ' spic-hus ' ' lard-er ' for the same reason, because it kept the 
 lard : i. e., the pork or bacon." 
 
 " What did they use for food besides bacon ? " asked Belinda. 
 
 " Cheese, honey, mead, milk, butter, ale, also vegetables, 
 especially beans. Potatoes and peas were quite unknown. 
 Meat was roasted on a spit, or boiled in a pot hung over the fire 
 on a crane. Fish they usually boiled; from this we get our 
 expression, ' Here's a pretty kettle of fish ! ' The Saxons said 
 ' cytel-fisch.' Soup or broth was much used. Forks were 
 never seen ; plates were uncommon ; cooks politely brought in 
 birds or bits of meat fresh from the fire on the metal-roasting 
 spits, and the guests gracefully took them in their fingers, and 
 blew them until they were cool. Manners for which we would 
 banish a child from the table were quite elegant among these, 
 our Saxon ancestors." 
 
 We all laughed at this description. Miriam asked : 
 
 " Were they given to feasting? " 
 
 " Yes ; and had cook-books, regular cooks, and state dinners. 
 All the ladies prided themselves on knowing how to cook. 
 They were fond of salt, pepper and garlic, also of the sour 
 juice of fruits as a dressing. They baked their bread in flat- 
 cakes, marked with a cross as an act of piety. Cups and mugs 
 bad roi'nd Sottoms so that they would not stand : hence, our 
 
502 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 word tumblers for our drlnking-glasses, which stand firmly 
 enough." 
 
 "And at what time did they eat their meals?" asked Thomas 
 Black. 
 
 " They had three meals daily at early hours. There is an old 
 Saxon rhyme which ran thus : 
 
 " ' To rise at five, to dine at nine, 
 To sup at five, to sleep at nine, 
 Maltes one live to ninety-and-nine.' " 
 
 " Horrors ! " said Mrs. Black ; " I'm glad I didn't live in those 
 days ! " 
 
 " Tell us something more about their manners," said Miriam. 
 
 " Young babies were swaddled from head to toe as closely 
 as Indian pappooses. At ten months old the swaddling was 
 relinquished, and they learned to crawl about. Until the age 
 of five or six they tumbled about naked, or very nearly so. 
 During the day the- men were busy at their hunting", h ihing oi 
 rude agriculture ; the women cooked, spun, wove, sewed, 
 worked tapestry ; the children kept in the house-enclosu e or in 
 their mothers' bowers. In the evening the family gatl c'ed in 
 the hall : the parents on the settle, or big double seat, i.ear the 
 fire ; the men cleaning their weapons or making bows and 
 arrows ; the guest, or the family-harper, or some wandering 
 mimic-singer, had a chair, and sang ballads, and told stories, 
 and all the news he had picked up in his travels. Often the 
 priest, or a monk finding the home more attractive than his 
 cell, had also his seat by the hearth, and made all eyes and 
 mouths open with wonder as he told legends of the saints, oi 
 described his journeys through England, his life in some 
 monastic school, or, more wonderful still, what he had. seen at 
 Rome, or even at Holy Sepulchre among the Infidels." 
 
 " What about their education ? " asked Hester. 
 
 " They most of them after Alfred's day learned to read and 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIMVAL HOMES. 60S 
 
 write; also arithmetic and Latin. But these accomplishments 
 were more usual for girls than for boys, for the boys were zeal- 
 ous in hunting, fishing and fighting, unless they meant to be 
 priests. A lad was especially taught carving. Queen EdLth 
 ■was wont to meet the children returning from school, question 
 them on logic and grammar, and give money to the best schol- 
 ars. Their books were written on parchment, and illustrated 
 with paintings. Clerks prepared many of these at a great price. 
 Some families kept a clerk to collect and write out a library for 
 them. Books were often bound in velvet and gems." 
 
 " What amusements did they have ? " asked Sara. 
 
 " They were very fond of music, poetry-making and singing ; 
 they cultivated fruit and flower-gardens with enthusiasm. Em- 
 broidery was a passion with the dames ; chess, backgammon 
 and dice were also very common." 
 
 " I have heard much of their hospitality," said Miriam. , 
 
 " Yes. They went out to meet and welcome a guest ; sent 
 him to the bath-room ; gave him a chief seat at table ; stood by, 
 and waited on him as he ate. Ladies thought it the very cream 
 of good manners to stand and wait on a guest. They had 
 books and songs on courtesy and good manners, and we find 
 that a thousand years ago Saxons taught their children not to 
 enter a room without knocking, not to repeat what they had 
 heard or seen in a neighbor's house, and to keep their hands and 
 finger-nails clean. A tavern in those days was a road-side 
 drinking-place, where decent people were loath to lodge — all 
 houses were open to the traveller. Bede, a venerable and holy 
 monk, gives these rules as to hospitality : ' First, wash the hands 
 and feet of your guest ; second, feed him ; third, lodge him ; 
 fourth, after two days and two nights of free hospitality, inquire 
 his name, his intentions and his antecedents, for after this y"U 
 are responsible for his doings if he remains your guest. ' " 
 
 " What was the domestic character of Saxon women ? " asked 
 Cousin Ann. 
 
504 T^E COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 " They were devoted mothers, very sharp mistresses often, at 
 their slaves were so completely in their power. In their married 
 relations they were often unamiable, for marriage was usually a 
 matter of barter and treaty between parents, the young people 
 having no voice in the matter. They thus frequently found 
 sach other uncongenial, and divorce was very common. Men 
 even traded wives, and women allowed themselves to be bartered 
 away, hoping for better fortunes. The Roman Catholic Church 
 has always been very creditably arrayed against divorce, and 
 it used its whole power to maintain the marriage tie among 
 Saxon Catholics, but for some two hundred years with but little 
 effect." 
 
 " Of course," said Mrs. Burr, " the Saxon home was a con- 
 stantly improving home in its furniture, manners and customs, 
 as Saxons were a studious people, and were more and more 
 threwn into contact with other and more refined nations." 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Winton, "the wild Saxons who invaded 
 England after the Romans departed were moulded by the end 
 of Alfred's reign into a single strong nation, with schools, 
 churches, and agriculture, some manufactures, and with com- 
 fortable homes ; the kingdom had become a prize worthy of the 
 desire of William the Norman." 
 
 " The entrance of William and his Normans to England," 
 said Doctor Nugent, "brings us to another period in our history 
 of home-life. I see on Aunt Sophronia's face a serene smile, 
 that betokens her self-gratulation at having escaped giving us a 
 disquisition ; Aunt Sophronia rejoices too soon. Day after to- 
 morrow evening we propose all to be at her house to listen to a 
 description of English homes after the Norman Conquest." 
 
 Every one laughed, and I said, with truth, that I wished 
 that they had chosen some one who knew more about the 
 subject. 
 
 " These talks on old-time homes," said John Rocheford, " are 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDI^ VAL HOMES. 505 
 
 not meant to be exhaustive or learned lectures : they are merely 
 to give us some ideas of the progress of domestic life , of the 
 gradual introduction of our present conveniences of furniture, 
 dress and refinement. What are now the ordinary comforts of 
 our poorest homes were once luxuries to kings; among the 
 Saxons, up to the Conquest, a pillow was a comfort bestowed 
 only on sick women, and a man who could five years after his 
 marriage buy a flock-bed and a pair of heavy blankets or wool 
 quilts thought himself well off. The poor ate their common 
 food of porridge and milk, or soup, from a little wooden trough, 
 called a trencher ; three horn-spoons and one huge knife was a 
 fine outfit of tableware, while glass in a window and a decent 
 chimney were unknown." 
 
 " I'm glad," said Mrs. Black, " that I was not born in ' good 
 old times ! ' " 
 
 When my guests on Thursday evening were ready to hear the 
 few and simple observations which I had prepared on Norman 
 homes, I began . 
 
 " I find my subject naturally following, and well introduced by 
 Mrs. Winton's talk. The Normans were in possession of greater 
 luxuries, though not at all what we would call splendor. They 
 built houses of two stories, and made use of the round arch for 
 doors and windows. The Normans were fond of revelry and 
 had elaborate kitchens ; they kept family butlers and bakers, and 
 notice that many of our present surnames come from those who 
 originally held these positions, or wrought in certain trades, as: 
 Butler, Baker, Stewart (from house-stewart), Spencer (?'. e., house- 
 keeper or ^iy/^;^j^r of provisions and funds), Smith, and so forth. 
 The Normans used many kinds of meat and gave it the French 
 names, held by us to-day, as pork for pig-meat, veal for calf, 
 beef for cow or ox-meat — all these names being Norman or 
 French in origin, the spelling being altered. They also used 
 many birds and fowls, especially geese, of which they kept large 
 
506 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 flocks under care of goose-herds. The table furniture was more 
 gorgeous in kind though not great in variety ; more platters of 
 metal were used, but no forks, and almost no plates ; drinking- 
 cups and flagons were of gold, silver and pewter. Every table 
 had a supply of napkins, and basins for washing the hands, as 
 people so liberally used their fingers for eating. 
 
 "As to sleeping, many people of all ages and both sexes 
 occupied the same room, a custom which now excites our indig- 
 nation in tenant houses, and in the present mean huts of many 
 English laborers. The entire lack of glass in windows, the poor 
 fit of doors and shutters, and the general loose build of the 
 houses, insured ventilation, and with the hearty out-of-door life 
 of every day probably was the means of saving the entire Saxo- 
 Norman race from dying of scrofula, which is pre-eminently a 
 disease of close apartments and foul air. The servants and com- 
 mon people lay in their ordinary day-clothes on the floor of the 
 hall or chief room. Visitors were freely received in the bed- 
 rooms, and, as chairs were few, they frequently sat on the bed, 
 and so, perched like a set of school-girls in a frolic, they had 
 collations served them. The children were sent to school, and 
 the girls were quite well taught. Wandering minstrels, jugglers, 
 mountebanks and story-tellers went up and down the country, 
 and paid for their entertainment at houses by performing their 
 music or tricks. Singing often accompanied the meals. An 
 ancient book has the story of Herod and John Baptist, and 
 shows Salome, the daughter of Herodias, standing on her head 
 before Herod, at which performance king and courtiers look 
 highly edified. The Normans presently added to the house a 
 guest or reception-room, called a parloir or talking-place, from 
 which we derive our parlor. 
 
 " Musical instruments were owned ; a picture in an antique 
 book shows two men playing together on an organ, and a man 
 on each side blowing; they are in contortions of effort, but seem 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL HOMES. 507 
 
 unable to furnish wind enough to the instrument, and one player 
 has stopped to shake his fist at them. The Normans were great 
 gamblers, and gambled with the game of chess, a game invented 
 in the far East and brought by Byzantine Greeks from the Sara- 
 cens. It;s earliest mention is in 1067, in a letter written by the 
 Cardinal Bishop of Ostia to Pope Alexander Second, and in this 
 he complains that the Bishop of Florence plays chess, because 
 the law only forbids priests to play dice. In the thirteenth cen- 
 tury cards began to be used, and at this time masques and 
 mountebanks in private houses began to go out of fashion. 
 Two favorite pieces of furniture were a treasure-chest for valu- 
 ables, called a hiiche, and a frame for hanging clothes, called a 
 pcrche. The huche was heavy, large, carved, placed at the foot 
 of the bed, and used as a divan or seat. It was the forerunner 
 of the sofa and the linen-chest. The perche, at first a mere bar 
 with pegs in it, was the predecessor of our hat-rack and ward- 
 robe. Certain luxuries of life, which we regard as modern, are 
 found depicted in the illuminated books of the tenth, twelfth 
 and thirteenth centuries, as gloves, carriages, and side-saddles. 
 Copies of old pictures containing these are to be fotind in an 
 English work by the antiquarian, Thomas Wright, ' Homes of 
 Other Days.' Our camp-chair has its exact counterpart in a 
 picture in a French romance of 1450; and our fine chandelier 
 was called by the Normans a candle-beam, being three or four 
 crossed pieces of wood hangirfg from the ceiling by a chain, and 
 having iron points whereon to stick candles. 
 
 " In Norman times ladies began to practise painting, medi- 
 cine and nursing as a business, but, unhappily, about the year 
 1500, we find that the formerly discreet wives of England 
 are accused of going to taverns and pot-houses, and pictures 
 represent them sitting on benches with their gossips drinking 
 ale in public places. So unfortunately, at present, women, even 
 " with babes in arms, may be seen hanging about saloons and 
 
508 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 gin-palaces. Some of these pictures show the husbands coming 
 to order their wives home, and these muscular dames square-off 
 and maintain a pitched battle for their rights." 
 
 " Neither better nor worse than some viragoes now," said 
 Dick, laughing. 
 
 " Human nature develops itself about on the same line in all 
 ages and countries, if left to itself," remarked our minister. 
 
 "And that was a peculiarly rough age," said Doctor Nugent. 
 " The kingdom was torn with quarrels between the nobles ; the 
 church was arrayed against the laity ; the colleges were centres 
 of mobs. A religion and an education for the commons, and a 
 recognition of individual rights and human dignity were needed 
 to subdue and civilize people." 
 
 "At this time," I continued, " a son at fifteen generally chose 
 for himself his line of life, as war, the priesthood, the college, or 
 agriculture, and his father furnished him for it as well as he 
 could. Daughters were married with respect to their dowry, 
 and matches were made usually by the parents, with reference 
 to neighborly or pecuniary convenience. We catch glimpses in 
 song, stofy and picture of the love of home, of husband and 
 wife, of parent and child, and we have stray views of .little 
 English children playing with toy-whips, swords, dolls, hobby- 
 horses, tops, balls, and all the playthings of modern childhood. 
 Clothes were made in nearly the same fashion for young and 
 old, and boys and girls looked ''like elderly people cut short. 
 Home-spun, or linsey-woolsey, made to last a lifetime, was worn 
 by all ; buckram and leather were used in breeches and jerkins. 
 Stockings were yarn knit, and shoes for the poor were often of 
 wood, or of undressed hide. Fur and feathers were a favorite 
 trimming, and velvet and silk were imported, decked with lace 
 and pearls for holiday and high occasions. But then fashions 
 did not change, and the best gown passed from mother to child 
 and grandchild, and the father's state coat was handed to the 
 third and fourth generation." 
 
ANCIENT AND MED/AiVAL HOMES. 509 
 
 " What," asked Miriam, " was the increase in furniture ? " 
 
 "As weahh and trades multiphed, and crusaders and mer- 
 chants returned from the luxurious East, furnishing became 
 more elaborate and varied. The Saxons had bellows, tongs, 
 poker and fire-shovel ; the Normans added andirons and fire- 
 screens of elegant designs ; chairs were constructed of lighter 
 and more comfortable proportions; the table had its solid top 
 and its own legs, and was no more a board on tressels ; lanterns 
 were arranged for dark nights, and Sedan chairs and coaches for 
 riding; window-curtains, and squares of carpet, and rugs were 
 introduced; the perche became a wardrobe and a hat-rack; 
 hassocks, stools and sofas filled the rooms ; pictures decked the 
 walls, and books were more common ; printing opened to all 
 men the possibility of a library; the tables rejoiced in cuf>s, 
 plates, forks and spoons. The Saxons and Normans became 
 one people ; then the English liberties were established ; the 
 Wars of the Roses ended ; the Homes of England bloomed in 
 the coarse magnificence of Tudor times, and then in the French 
 elegance of the Stuart reigns, and the quaint, grotesque elabo- 
 rations of Queen Ann, after whose furniture, and pottery, and 
 jewelry we are now again going mad. It is worthy of remark 
 that now in our humblest homes we have the comforts and little 
 conveniences which it has taken ages to perfect." 
 
 "And," observed John Rocheford, " we might remember that 
 people lived, and throve, and were happy, without what we call 
 the necessaries of existence, without carpets, curtains, bureaus 
 and toilette tables, arm-chairs and book-cases." 
 
 " Let us," remarked Mr. Winton, " not forget the ancestry of 
 
 our domestic conveniences : our book-case was once the little 
 
 carved Roman roll-chest ; our wardrobe a peg on a beam ; our 
 
 chandelier a lump of tallow stuck on a stick ; our sofa a money 
 
 chest ; our chair a 'fald-stol; ' our bed a shelf in the wall; our 
 
 carpet an armful of straw ; our oven a hole in the ground ; ou; 
 33 
 
510 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 goblet a polished cow's horn ; our plate a rough wooden 
 trencher, a kind of chicken-trough." 
 
 " Well," said Doctor Nugent, " to-day, in our western out- 
 posts, people, brave enough to be emigrants and pioneers of 
 civilization, are building up states, living just as rudely as this 
 until competence and the railroad overtake them ; and they are 
 making the best parts of our country. Neither are they coarse 
 nor unhappy because of these rough-and-ready surroundings. 
 I have dined with a thorough gentlemati with blocks of wood for 
 seats, pine-bark for plates, and our pocket-knives to cut our 
 meat, and relished the dinner too." 
 
 A very aged lady had accompanied Mrs. Burr to all these 
 gatherings, seeming to enjoy them highly. She spoke for the 
 first time : 
 
 " When I was a child I lived five years in an Indian wig- 
 wam." 
 
 " Oh, tell us about it, pray do ! " cried all the young people, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " There is nothing to tell," said the old lady, simply. " They 
 stole me and I stayed until I was discovered and taken back. 
 It was on the shores of Lake Erie. The wjgwam was made of 
 poles stuck in the ground and tied with bark-bands at the top. 
 In winter it was hung with skins. Skins and cedar branches lay 
 on the ffoor to sit and sleep upon. In summer the wigwam 
 Was covered with bark and branches. The description given of 
 Celt life reminded me of our Indian life. The wigwam < some- 
 times had a curtain across the middle, making two apartments. 
 During the day the front flap was folded back ; the fire was out- 
 side on the ground. When we moved camp the women struck 
 the wigwams, loaded the little horses with poles, curtains, big 
 kettles, baskets and pappooses, and away we went. All the 
 work was done by the women : they set up wigwams, collected 
 fuel, dressed skins, made clothes, pounded fruit into a kind of 
 
ANCIENT AND MEDIMVAL HOMES. ^\\ 
 
 beer, dried or jerked meat and fish, pounded corn into coarse 
 meal ; were slaves, in fact, toiling with no thanks from morning 
 to night. The men and boys hunted, fished, fought, danced, 
 got drunk, made bows and arrows, and slept half the day when 
 they felt like it. It was no life of Arcadia, in spite of the poetry 
 books. The sumrhers were all heat, mosquitoes, hard work; 
 the winters were successions of cold, sickness, sore hands and 
 feet, and often of failing provisions and long-continued hunger. 
 Yet I have heard of boys mad to go out West and live with the 
 Indians, and of young women who longed to marry an Indian 
 ohief or brave. All I can say is they never tried it, or they 
 would not talk such folly." 
 
 "We might continue our Home Talks indefinitely," safd Mr, 
 Burr. "We could discuss the Homes of Egypt and Chaldea, 
 the Homes of Central Africa, the Home of the Puritan, the 
 Western settler, the Home of revolutionary days. Each variety 
 would present its likeness to other varieties and its own distinct 
 features But in all diversities we should find this fixed fact, 
 that the Home is the centre of man's thoughts, the source of 
 his comfort, the mould of his habits. The cradle of the child is 
 the cradle of nations and of the church. The parents and the 
 children abiding together, whether their possessions be few or 
 many, make a Home, and how poor soever in property, this 
 Home by faith and loVe can be a pattern of Heaven — a paradise 
 on earth." 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE MODEL HOME. ' 
 
 AUNT SOPHRONIA'S IDEA OF A HOME IN ITS BEST ESTATH. 
 
 ^OING one afternoon to call on Hester, I found her sitting 
 in the bow-window of the parlor reading Plato. 
 "Still the favorite book, Hester?" I said. 
 She laid it in her lap with a smile; then replied: 
 " The favorite book, and the favorite passage. Listen, here is 
 something which you will like, Aunt Sophronia. 
 
 " Socrates is told that man cannot find his ideal. He replies: 
 
 " 'Aye, he will — in the city which is his own, though in his 
 native country perhaps not, unless some providential accident 
 should occur.' 
 
 " ' I understand : you speak of that city of which we are the 
 founders, and which exists in idea only : for I do not think 
 there is such an one anywhere on earth.' 
 
 " ' In heaven,' I replied, ' there is laid up a pattern of such a 
 city, and he who desires may behold this, and beholding may 
 govern himself accordingly. But whether there really is, oi 
 ever will be, such an one on earth, is of less importance to him ; 
 for he will act according to the laws of that city, and of no 
 other.' 
 
 " Is not that beautiful, aunt?" said Hester, as she closed the 
 book. " It seems as if the gray old heathen must have caught 
 some revelation of the glorious city, the New Jerusalem, whose 
 maker and builder is God." 
 
 "As he develops his city in its minutiae," I said, " it partakes 
 (512) 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 515, 
 
 ot the twilight of the heathen mind. But when it dawns on him 
 as a whole, one would think he had been given a glimpse into 
 the world of perfect models: the world which holds for us the 
 ideal beauty; the ideal city; the ideal existence; the ideal 
 character; the ideal home." 
 
 " Let us fancy," said Hester, looking across the lovely land 
 scape which lay beyond her window, "that all that is really 
 good here, inasmuch as it is good, partakes of the character of 
 God, is in harmony with him ; it is, therefore, a straight line, for 
 he never deviates, deflects, nor has the shadow of a turning. 
 It is also infinitely extended — eternized ; therefore, being a 
 straight and infinitely extended* line, it is not bounded by our 
 mortal limits, but is projected into the future world, indefinitely 
 to develop itself in a growing likeness to the mind of its Maker. 
 Of these things may be the home, de-signed, established, con- 
 tinued and finished, in him. What then might be the infinite 
 possibilities of the Home, the nursing place of immortality, 
 immortal in itself! " 
 
 " You lead me too far," I said ; " as the poet cries, ' to fields 
 beyond our ken.' Who is it that says : ' There are plenty who 
 indicate to us the road to the skies, but this man taught us ;>. 
 way through this lower world ' ? " 
 
 " That is Sauvestrfe speaking of Oncle Maurice, and Sauvestr^ 
 has a very pretty paragraph on the Home. Let me read it to 
 you." 
 
 She took a book from the table, and read : " Never before 
 had I so comprehended the ineffable attraction of the family. 
 What sweetness in these always shared joys, in this community 
 of interests which confounds sensations, in this association of 
 existences, which out of many beings forms one single being ! 
 What, indeed, is man without these affections of the hearth- 
 stone, which, as so many roots, fix him solidly in the earth and 
 permit him to drink in all the juices of life ? Strength, happi- 
 
614 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ness — do not they all come from thence ? Without the family, 
 where shall man learn love, mutual aid and self-sacrifice 7 
 Society in miniature, is it not the Home which teaches us how 
 to live in the world at large? Such is the sanctity of the 
 hearth-stone, that, in order to express our relationships with 
 God, we have borrowed words invented for the family. Men 
 have called themselves the children of the Supreme Father." 
 
 " Yes," I said ; " here is not only God's ideal of human life, 
 but it is the foundation of society, of the state. This is our 
 inviolate ark, and who would injure or destroy that would 
 destroy human bonds and national strength. Let us exalt the 
 sphere of Home." 
 
 " Since you will not devote your time," said Hester, " to 
 fancies of what the Home might be in the land that lies very far 
 off, will you give a little time to explicating your view of a 
 Model Home in this world ? In fact, I have a request to prefer 
 to you, and I would have visited you for that purpose to-day, if 
 you had not come here. Grace Winton is to be married to Dr. 
 Nugent's brother. They mean to live here in our little town, 
 and to build a house for themselves. You planned and super- 
 intended your house building, and every one likes it. Grace 
 wants you to draw up for her your views of a Model Home. 
 You can give your ideas of externals and internals. Depict it 
 as it had better be when people are able to choose a site, and 
 set up the home without being hampered by necessity of savirig, 
 and yet do not intend to live in a style of extravagance." 
 
 " But, Hester," I remonstrated, " such a work would require 
 folios! It would take a lifetime to depict a Model Home." 
 
 " Condense it, aunt : merely suggest the topics to be studied, 
 and hint at what is needful. A word to the wise suffices." 
 
 " But in many conversations at various times, with all of you' 
 young people, I think I have fairly unfolded my views of 
 home, and home-life." 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 61 5 
 
 " Let this paper then be an epitome of what you have said to 
 us. InJeed, aunt, we are bound among ourselves to give you 
 no peace until _you gratify us, and then we intend to take the 
 paper, have it printed, and a hundred copies bound to suit our* 
 fancy, and distributed among ourselves, as a memento of our 
 many pleasant conversations on home affairs. Therefore be- 
 come an author in little in spite of yourself" 
 
 With much fear and anxiety I addressed myself to my diaries, 
 repositories of the thoughts of years, endeavoring to collate 
 certain views of the chief things which belong to a home. And 
 as the beginning of the home is in marriage, and marriage is an 
 institution now often both openly and insidiously attacked by 
 the children of riot and unrighteousness, I was about to open 
 my subject with some words of my own on that topic, when I 
 found these remarks of the Bishop of Winchester, offered at a 
 nuptial celebration, and them I transcribed: "The whole of 
 human civilization has its rise, its origin, in marriage : that 
 which most distinguishes civilization from barbarism is the 
 sacredness of the marriage tie and its indissolubility. The 
 more sacred marriage is held by any people, the more certainly 
 that people rises to a high condition of civilization. The mar- 
 ried home is the type and the source of civil society. The 
 home, the family,, is the unit of civilized life. The home is also 
 the type and the unit of the Christian church : only from the 
 basis of the Christian family can we understand that great truth 
 of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of Christian 
 man. No one can tell what the future may be passing into the 
 generations of a Christian household. Think for a moment 
 what was the future of that home when Abraham married Sarah 
 He knew not then what it would be, that in him should all the 
 families of the earth be blessed ; yet all that sprang from thai 
 nne holy marriage." 
 
 And now, my young friends, I trust that you hold these simple 
 
516 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 and sacred views of marriage, and I behold you newly wedded 
 standing on the threshold of. your future life. I would have 
 scarcely known of what next to speak to you, but looking in 
 this spring day from my window, a pair of newly mated robins 
 and a pair of blue birds brought me counsel; they were nest- 
 building! The robins were erecting a new home from the 
 foundation. The blue birds had found a nest of some othei 
 year and were refitting it. I observed that they who built and 
 they who repaired proceeded on the same general principles, 
 and that the homes when ready for occupancy were nearly alike. 
 This is a copy of human affairs, for some young couples build 
 houses for themselves and others do the best they can with 
 houses already built, but for both there are certain general 
 sanitary and aesthetic principles to be observed. Nor is it 
 unfit to set this house-building closely beside the thought of 
 the emotional and spiritual union of which we have just spoken, 
 for the house in which the family lives has much to do with the 
 health, happiness and perpetuity of the family ; it is as the husk 
 to the kernel, and the nest to the bird, needful to the existence, 
 and indicative of the nature, of the occupant. 
 
 Now as the same general principles will hold good in 
 building or remodelling a home, I will suggest some of the 
 points which are to be observed, as far as practicable, in building 
 a comfortable house. 
 
 Let the house stand on an elevation: this secures drainage, 
 and prevents to a great degree malaria. If the house stands on 
 rising land the cellar will generally be dry ; and there can be no 
 health in a house with a damp cellar. I notice many farm- 
 houses set close down under a hill for shelter from cold and 
 winds. They had much better be half-way or all the way up the 
 hill : the breeze is healthful, but the mist hanging low in the 
 hollow, in the morning, is deadly. If the soil around the house 
 is gravelly, and declines gently on every hand, the position is 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 517 
 
 enviable indeed. Not only will you have healthfulness, easy 
 drainage and a sightly position, but your sloping ground offers 
 a fine opportunity for terracing, and a sodded terrace with 
 shrubbery, occasional small beds of flowers, and grape arbors 
 placed over the main path on each terrace, making a succession 
 of green arcades, leave little to be desired in the surroundings 
 of a comfortable middle-class home. On this elevation set 
 your house, facing the southeast; you will then have well- 
 sunned rooms, summer coolness, winter protection, and escape 
 damp walls and leaking chimneys. Let the house be rather 
 high between joints : very lofty ceilings might dwarf the apparent 
 size of the rooms and make them difficult to heat, but avoid 
 low ceilings. Have windows judiciously placed so that the 
 rooms can be well aired ; in bed-rooms, see to it that they are 
 so set that the room can be thoroughly aired without a draught 
 passing over the bed. Do not have too many doors in one 
 room, and never have a room capable of only being entered 
 through another. Let the bed-rooms be comfortably large ; 
 have no nine-by-nine cubby-holes for sleeping apartments : crowd 
 the parlor if you must, but let us, in bed-rooms, have space for 
 breathing. Do not have bed-rooms on the ground-floor; it is 
 always unhealthy to sleep on a first floor ; many cases of seem- 
 ingly chronic ill-health have been cured by sending the patient 
 into the third story. Be sure and do not put the kitchen in the 
 basement or cellar : this makes too many steps for the house- 
 wife ; too much heavy Carrying for the maids ; the fumes of the 
 cooking rise through the house and are driven back toward the 
 furnace-cellar, and rise also with the heat. If the kitchen is 
 beside the dining-room, do not have a door opening between 
 them, but through a lobby; if dining-room and kitchen com- 
 municate, the dining-room is apt to be filled with steam, 
 smoke or flies, as the door is constantly opened, and the people 
 at table get a view of the kitchen whenever the waiter passes in 
 
518 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 or out. Be careful about the building of the chimneys : let 
 them be curved rather than straight, and see that the draught 
 is good, for few things are so destructive of family good temper, 
 of punctuality, and of furniture, as smoking chimneys or fire? 
 that will not burn. Have plenty of closets. Some one says 
 that " women especially appreciate the comfort and advantage 
 of having plenty of these convenient receptacles for old clothes 
 and dirt." Here is a very low idea of good housekeeping. All 
 the closets in a house should be well cleaned quarterly : not a 
 particle of dirt should accumulate in them to infect the air of 
 the house with dust and stale smells. Old clothes should be 
 promptly disposed of: those useful to be given away are owed 
 to the needy ; those which are to make house and cleaning 
 cloths should be ripped, washed, and folded in a box; those 
 which are kept for rug or carpet making should be ripped and 
 cut as soon as possible. Old clothes hanging about, or tucked 
 into corners, fill a house with mouldy smells, moths and roaches, 
 and encourage mice. 
 
 Let eveiy precaution possible be used in arranging flues to 
 prevent houses catching fire ; let no stove-pipes pass through 
 wooden floors unprotected by earthen thimbles, and iron or tin 
 sheathing, and let no pipes or low chimneys be placed where 
 their sparks will lodge under a higher roof Let the cellar be 
 dry, hard finished, with well-protected and lighted inside steps, 
 outer steps, and windows fit for ventilating, and wire-screened to 
 keep out animals. Have a large cistern, with a filter. No 
 water, unless of a very good spring, is so healthful for drinking 
 as filtered cistern water. The best fashion is to divide the 
 cemented cistern perpendicularly into two halves, the partition 
 being the filter ; let the water run in on one side, and the pump 
 draw from the other. Both fuel and water should be obtainable 
 without going from under shelter ; many a woman's life has 
 been sacrificed by being forced to run, while heated, into tha 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 51 9 
 
 cold or rain for water or fuel. Every house should have 
 provision for several open fires. In early spring or autumn 
 these are both cheerful and healthful, and nothing, unless it be 
 sunshine, is more beneficial in a sick-room. If the house is 
 furnace-heated, these fires are still useful. Every furnace should 
 get its air supply through tubes or boxes communicating with 
 the outer air, not less than two or three feet above the surface of 
 the ground : one does not wish to have the confined air of a 
 cellar distributed over the house for breathing, nor to breathe 
 air impregnated with the damp, vegetable, and insect decay of 
 the earth's surface. Let the furnace also have a water-box 
 which should not get dry so long as fires are kept up. 
 
 If water is introduced into the house through lead pipes, great 
 pains should be taken not to use the water which has stood in 
 these pipes, as it has become poisonous : pipes should be lined 
 with rubber. Never have a zinc-lined cistern, and do not allow 
 water which has stood in a copper boiler to be used for any , 
 cooking purposes. City-plumbed houses, where there are ser- 
 vants, demand a housewife's constant vigilance to prevent the 
 slow poisoning of her family in such ways as these. Extreme 
 care should be used in cleansing all sinks and waste pipes : con- 
 centrated lye water, sal-soda water and ammonia water are all 
 good, while too much praise can hardly be bestowed on potash, 
 a strong, hot solution of which will destroy all hair, animal mat- 
 ter, vegetable decay and grease, and so save us the visitations 
 of fevers and plumbers. 
 
 Every house should have at least two main stair-ways. Aa 
 to the colors in interior finishing of a house, be sure and avoid 
 glaring white walls, as they are bad for the eyes. Where 
 rooms are whitewashed, the walls must be relieved by pictures, 
 branches of green leaves and soft-colored draperies. Kitchens 
 should have dark paint or dark graining. For halls and lobbies 
 nothing is better than dark walnut, either the wood or walnut 
 
520 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 coloring, relieved by gilt mouldings. When pictures are to be 
 hung on the walls the paper or wall-painting should be in sub- 
 dued colors and without marked patterns. The ceilings are 
 most favorable to the eye and harmonious which imitate 
 Nature's hues for depth and distance, and appear in faint blues 
 and grays. Where no pictures are to be used, the wall-papers 
 can be largely figured, and walls of halls and large rooms can 
 be beautifully papered in panels of landscapes or pictures of 
 statuary. A narrow gilt moulding at the ceiling and one three 
 feet from the floor favorably break the monotony of a W^ll. A 
 solid or chiefly green paper is to be avoided, as it is usually 
 poisonous, but deep maroons are rich, durable and harmonize 
 with various styles of furnishing. Grainings and dark paints or 
 stainings save time in cleaning, needing only to be wiped with a 
 sponge, moistened in weak ammonia water, and suit many 
 rooms, for a parlor, cream or silver-gray papers, with delicate 
 gold figures, are very pretty. Some rooms look well, papered in 
 columns and cornices, with medallions in the spaces. Choose 
 paint and paper to suit the size, lighting and use of the room. 
 It adds to the beauty and variety ot a house to have something 
 distinctive in the color of different rooms, as one in red, one in 
 blue, one in gray, or in green — but here you must be chary for 
 fear of arsenical poisoning ; rose-color and buff" are also choice 
 shades for bed-rooms. Wall-papers can be cleaned by dusting 
 thoroughly with a soft cloth, and then rubbing downwards in a 
 long, straight, light rub with a piece of stale bread ; do not rub 
 hard nor crooked-wise. If you boil whitewash, adding to every 
 two gallons while hot one tablespoon ground alum, one-half 
 pint flour paste, one-half pound glue, the wash will be nearly as 
 firm and shining as paint, while it can be tinted with indigo, 
 ochre, or lampblack, or red, to give you sky-blue, drab or buff 
 walls. Concerning furniture I have so lately spoken, tnat it is 
 needless to say more on a subject so largely to be governed by 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 521 
 
 each householder's taste and means. Let the furniture te 
 suited to its use, solidly good in quality, subdued rather than 
 loud in taste, and such as will give a home-like look to your 
 apartments. Let there be careful avoidance of superfluity or 
 sparseness. Do not have everything in the home bo7ight: it 
 savors too much of the shop and too little of human interests; 
 looks too much like a hotel. Have little ornamental and useful 
 things made by your own hands : they will indicate that the 
 dwelling has an animating and interested soul. If you are unfort- 
 unately without an eye for colors, take counsel in furnishing of 
 some friend who has taste in this direction, for a discord in color 
 will strike some of your guests as harshly and painfully as a 
 discord in music. Do not fear that you will betray bad taste by 
 a decisive color. Some people fear to indulge in a line of red or 
 orange or pure yellow, as if it were a sin : remember that these 
 colors came to us from the Great Artist, that he has put peculiar 
 honor upon them, inasmuch as the sunlight is golden and the 
 morning and evening skies are freely painted in reds. Ruskin 
 calls red pure color. Sometimes all that a doleful-looking room 
 needs to correct it is a fragment of scarlet or clear yellow. 
 
 Now set this commodious, neat, convenient and tasteful house 
 in its proper grounds ; give attention to keeping these grounds 
 neatly. Have flowers, and not too many of them to look like 
 a florist's ; have shrubs flowering and foliage shrubs, but do not 
 crowd ; have trees, but not too shady ; have plenty of grass, 
 smoothly shaven, closely sown and re-sown, until it grows like 
 velvet. Do not forget to have patches of myrtle and of blue 
 violets in nooks where they may " run out the grass," and be as 
 lovely as they please ; have vines, for nothing is more delicious 
 than a fragrant honeysuckle or jasmine ; nothing is more gor> 
 geous in autumn than a woodbine, and nothing is more health- 
 giving than a plenty of grapes. If there is room, cultivate 
 small fruits, for they add to the healthfulness of a family. 
 
522 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Now, into this beautiful and well-surrounded home we must 
 invite those virtues which are the true Lares and Penates of a 
 dwelling. First, , we must call in Order, for where Order is 
 lacking, comfort and beauty and their attendant train, and often 
 love, will fly out of the window. Order will secure the saving 
 of time, the saving of strength, prevent the rapid wasting or 
 wearing out of house or furnishings, and preserve a healthful 
 atmosphere, inspiriting to the family and inviting to guests. 
 
 But Order alone might be cold, and carried to the extreme 
 of being forbidden. 'Let us secure the gracious presence of 
 Beauty. The love of Beauty is in the human soul a reflection 
 of the mind of God. Truly, He is a right kingly lover of 
 Beauty, who could not let even a beetle go from his creating 
 hand without polishing and spotting its wings ; who paints 
 admirably, not only the flowers of the field, but the fishes of 
 the sea, the crabs crawling on the shore, and the reptiles 
 burrowing in wood and wall. If we deny our homes of 
 beauty, we deny what would be inspiriting and refining to our- 
 selves, and we bereave our children of their natural inheritance. 
 Beauty makes homes dear to their occupants, it softens the 
 asperities of life, and binds in mutual tastes and mutual 
 pleasures the members of a family. 
 
 Yet the pursuit of Beauty must not lead us into extravagance. 
 We must invoke Economy to preside in our homes. Extrava- 
 gance is one of the crying evils of the age : it provokes to 
 envy, emulation, hatred, dishonesty; it has shaken the whole 
 fabric of society, and the faith of nations. Where one man sins 
 in penuriousness, ten sin in extravagance. It is a sin of sel- 
 fishness and of deceit. The extravagance of the age has 
 ruined homes already established, and hindered the establish- 
 ment of others. People become too selfish, or too timid tff 
 marry. If people do not need to practise Economy for their 
 own sakes, they must practise it for the sake of their children, 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 523 
 
 of the community, and of their servants, and for the enlarge- 
 ment of their charities. Guarding against meanness, they must 
 unite Hberality with a wise Economy. 
 
 Economy is the virtue which preserves. There must be yoked 
 ■with it the virtue which creates. Let us invite into our house 
 holds, Industry. Accustomed to Industry, little time is left for 
 contention, for vice, or for destfuctiveness.- Let parents con- 
 sider their families : if they have a child who is always busy, 
 that child is peaceable, contented, breaks out into no disorders, 
 destroys no property. What is true of the individual will be 
 true of the whole family ; what is true of the family will be true 
 of the community, and of the state. It is the Industry wedded 
 to the Economy of France, which, in dire disasters as great as 
 ever shook a nation, has maintained her credit, and has prevented 
 her being bankrupted, and parcelled out among the nations. A 
 habit of Industry secures the future of our children. Wealth 
 may fly : indeed, it seems to grow wings with wonderful facility ; 
 but Industry is a perpetual inheritance. Industry maintains the 
 Home. This Industry should be honest and wisely directed : 
 this can be secured only by development of the mind and the 
 reasoning faculties; the hand must be guided by the brain; 
 therefore, in our Home we must cultivate Education. 
 
 Education in a home is like a fountain of living waters. 
 Education is constantly bringing forth something new and 
 attractive ; its ordinary tendency is to prevent extravagance and 
 crime. It makes a person happy in himself; preserves him from 
 constantly being cast on others for advice or entertainment ; it 
 refines away the roughnesses of natural disposition, opens to us 
 opportunities of accomplishing things useful and praiseworthy ; 
 it fills usefully leisure time, binds a family in common interests 
 and pursuits, secures cheerful content even in the midst of 
 poverty, disappointment, or ill health. 
 
 The natural tendency of Education is to impress upon a man 
 
524 TBE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 that he is one of many ; that, not being in the state of savage 
 nature, he cannot say that he is independent of his fellows, nor 
 that they are independent of him. He recognizes that he owes 
 duties to his race. The recognition of these duties, the realiz- 
 ation of his wide relationships to his kind, reveal to him the duty 
 of extending Hospitality. Here is a rare Home virtue, by 
 which the happy Home becomes as a city set on a hill, which 
 cannot be hid. By exercise of this virtue the Home makes 
 broad its gates, enlarges its sphere, and increases its bene- 
 factions : 
 
 " Till, like a ray of light across the land, 
 The heart's large love goes, brightening more and more." 
 
 As, in speaking of Industry and Education in the Home, we 
 might refer to the parable of the entrusted talents, and the 
 inquiry made after their use, so in regard to the exercise of 
 Hospitality we may refer to that panorama of the judgment 
 when we see the Judge seated on his throne, and hear him say : 
 " I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat ; I was thirsty, and 
 ye gave me drink ; I was a stranger, and ye took me in ; naked, 
 and ye clothed me ; I was sick, and ye visited me ; in prison, and 
 ye came to me." Here, in Hospitality, the one jewel home is 
 fitly set with others of its kind, crown jewels of the King. 
 
 Closely linked with the exercise of Hospitality is that grace 
 of Courtesy, without which Hospitality would be but poorly 
 exhibited. Let us in our Model Home exhibit Courtesy : this 
 grace has well been called " the flower of flowers." This Courtesy 
 fills the Home like a soft pervasive music ; to its tender notes 
 the joys and cares of domestic life move gently on, the one 
 prevented from jarring the other, and concord is developed from 
 the whole. This Courtesy is the very essence of the Fifth 
 Commandment; it rises out of our brotherhood under one 
 Father, God. It passes on from parents to children and 
 servants, to the stranger within our gates, and gives to each his 
 due, as " superior, inferior, or equal." 
 
THE MODEi. HOSlE. 523 
 
 Without this genial, chivalric virtue, there would be but 
 little exercise of the grace of Friendship, and this brings us to 
 tne thought that in our homes we should cherish Friendship, 
 This grace expands the goul, it leads us out of selfishness, and 
 a narrow round of thought, to sympathize with other hearts 
 which have their own circle of attachments and duties ; and thus, 
 one to another, men are linked in kindness throughout the 
 world. As, in the family, ages and temperaments vary, so the 
 choice of friends will Vfiry : the child has its inseparable play- 
 mate, the yoi'th a chosen companion; the hearts which have 
 experienced and suffered much find an affinity with souls of 
 like experiences. Thus by friendships, while each member of 
 the Family brings into the household interest and sympathy the 
 comrade of his especial preference, the circle of Home interest 
 and outlook is widened ; these friendships constantly re-vivify 
 the life of Home by bringing into it new elements, and giving to 
 it new points of observation and contact with the busy world. 
 
 Now how shall these exterior claims be made to harmonize 
 with the world within ? How shall the duties of Courtesy, and 
 of Friendship, and Hospitality, be performed without robbing 
 any of the household of their rights ? The demands of the 
 Home alone are myriad, and wlfat shall be done with this outei 
 myriad of flocking cares ? 
 
 There is but one way in which we obtain time for all, doing 
 these, and not leaving the other undone, and that way is to have 
 in our work an unimpeachable Method. . Not only must we 
 have Order, regular succession in duties, a time and a place for 
 all things, but we must discern between the right and the wrong 
 way of doing all things ; and selecting for each duty the veiy 
 best method of performing it, we shall have discovered a time 
 and strength-saver which shall give us leisure for all things. 
 
 We must sweep a room by law, and then we shall have time 
 
 for ethics. This beautiful Method we must extend to the hand' 
 .34 
 
(526 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ling of the Family Revenues, and each month's expenditures 
 and reserves should show a handsome piece of domestic finan- 
 ciering. Neither Tnean nor lavish, turning money ever toward 
 its noblest uses, so that instead of our dollars being a gilded 
 chain to draw us down to hell, tb=y are golden rounds of a lad- 
 der whereby we climb toward Heaven ; we shall find in lives 
 enriched by liberality, lives honest and of good report, beautiful 
 with art, graced with literature, expanded in benevolence, that 
 we have solved the mightiest problem of. being, and while inca- 
 pable of carrying our valuables out of this world with us, we have 
 forestalled the hour of severance from earthly things, and have 
 sent our treasures on before us, to be laid up for our coming in 
 the safe-keeping of Heaven. Happy he over whom the daisies 
 write the eulogy: 
 
 " How many a poor one's blessing went 
 With thee beneath the low green tent, 
 Whose curtain never outward swings ! " 
 
 And just at this point, when we consider how much of the 
 funds of a Family are, in one way or another, paid out to em- 
 ployes, we are led to think of another Virtue of the Home — 
 faithfulness to our domestics. We owe those whom we employ 
 something more than their wages ; we owe them human sym- 
 pathy, interest in their personal affairs and well-being. In the 
 . servant we behold a fellow-toiler on that highway of life which 
 , is hard enough and dangerous enough at best ; if we can warn 
 ■ of a danger, remove an obstruction, give a direction, show a 
 resting-place, then just so far we are his keeper and responsible 
 for his getting safely to the end of his route. The hired help is 
 ;.a very important part of the family, holding in his keeping a 
 ' large share of the family comfort and success, and it depends 
 very greatly on ourselves whether he shall be a real help, or a 
 "terrible hindrance. In fact, in the Family, Unity must bind us 
 ■together as a whole; the individuals must not be parcelled out, 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 527 
 
 as weighing to see how much less of hearty affection may be 
 dealt out to one who holds neither the pre-eminence of the eldest 
 child, nor the petted position of the youngest ; to this one who 
 is only the stray waif of another family drifted into our Home ; 
 to this one who is the step-mother, or the old grandparent, or 
 the maiden aunt; to this one who is but the hireling: but rather 
 let us esteem love, unity in the family, as the heart's choicest 
 gold, which we protect against loss, to which we daily add like 
 precious grains, which we polish and refine, knowing it to be 
 that which is in itself indestructible, and which can make us 
 rich indeed. And how important is this maintaining of har- 
 mony — this giving" to each heart its tender due! When we 
 remember, that one by one these linked lives must be separated, 
 that the Family Circle shall be broken* that the hearthstone and 
 the board shall show vacant places, that those whom we love 
 shall slip out of our sight, beyond our hand-clasping, out of 
 the range of our voices, let them not go defrauded of our love, 
 pained by our neglect : but dowered well with bur richest affec- 
 tions, our lives with them projected into the future, and already 
 sharing their immortal state, even for us who remain death 
 shall have lost its sting and life shall have gotten the victory. 
 How sings the poe;t : 
 
 " O brother ! only I and thou 
 Are left of all that circle now- 
 The dear home faces whereupon 
 The fitful firelight paled and shone ; 
 Henceforward, listen as we will. 
 The voices of that hearth are still ; 
 Look where we may the wide earth o'er. 
 Those lighted faces smile no more. 
 Their written words we linger o'er ; 
 But in the sun they cast no shade j 
 No step is on the conscious floor ! 
 Yet love will dream, and faith will trust 
 (Since He who knows our need is just) 
 That somehow, somewhere meet we must." 
 
528 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 This tender love in the Home is mother of self-sacrifice, and 
 
 thoughtfulness, and sympathy. It runs before demand ot 
 
 request to secure the happiness of each dear object; and where 
 
 there is a prevalence of such love, where each member of the 
 
 family strives as heartily for another's good as for his own, then 
 
 the happiness of Home is secured ; there all tastes are con 
 
 sidered, and though circumstances may sternly prevent theii 
 
 gratification, yet they are sure of appreciating recognition. The 
 
 children of such a home do not fly from it like young birds 
 
 from the nest, and forget their cradle and their parents; but 
 
 loving memories cluster around it, strong cords of affection hold 
 
 the spirit, those who go out re-visit it often in dream and fancy, 
 
 and whenever it is possible their pilgrim feet return to this 
 
 « 
 Mecca of the heart. ♦ 
 
 Inspire now this blessed Home with the breath of immor- 
 tality. This beautiful clay, moulded by the hand of the Divine • 
 Sculptor into the image of things above, is too fair to perish 
 with the products of earth; this perpetually renewing Adam 
 lacks only the breath of Elohim. Inspire, then, this home with 
 a vital piety ; turn all these faces God-ward ; let them see tower- 
 mg above the far horizon of their life one object toward which 
 alike all their faces are steadfastly set. This vital piety only 
 will be able to give courage in disappointment, vigor in defeat, 
 strength against temptation, wisdom in success, perpetuity to 
 love, and faith to conquer death. On this theme I can think of 
 no finer expression than that of a French pasteur, Coulins, in a 
 sermon called The Royal Family : " With the eye of flesh I 
 behold this Family in the midst of a proud and ungodly genera- 
 tion, unknown, despised, persecuted even, treated as the off"- 
 scouring of all things. With the eye of faith I behold it alone 
 received into the Ark of Safety, shone on by the blessed rays of 
 the Sun of Righteousness, wafted by the favoring gale of grace, 
 and, steered by a steady hand, sailing onwards in peace co the 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 529 
 
 havefi of a blissful eternity ; whilst all around I see engulphed 
 in the deluge of a common destruction the false grandeurs, the 
 delusi/e distinctions, on which the children, of earth built the 
 frail edifice of their pride. With the eye of flesh I see society 
 broken up into classes and castes, which seem divided from one 
 another, as by mountains and by impassable precipices, by those 
 chimeras which we call birth, position, fortune, tastes, interests. 
 With the eye of faith I see but one profound distinction among 
 all earth's families, one privilege and one misery --the misery, 
 immensi, unfathomable, of being out of Christ — ^the privilege, 
 immense, unfathomable, of being heir to redemption in him : a 
 Family Lost ! a Family Saved ! ! That family which has been 
 called by that only name whereby we may be saved." 
 
 Before. us thus opens a goodly vista: the whole famify in 
 heaven; the Home transplanted for still more excellent bloom 
 and fruitage in the realm of compensation. Let us be sure that 
 he whose hand has here been so liberal in giving will not begin 
 to rob us as we enter his presence, but will add yet more and 
 more to those good gifts which enrich a Home. 
 
 Even here below a wisely conducted home, where due regard 
 is paid to laws of health and morals, is capable of long duration. 
 Many couples celebrate their golden wedding-day surrounded, 
 as by starry clusters, by other homes which have caught their 
 light from theirs. When such a beautiful anniversary dawns, 
 what memories of trembling hopes and anxious ffars must 
 crowd the soul ! Here, in fair matrons and bearded men, are 
 the children for whose lives we often feared when they seemed 
 to hover on the verge of the grave. These athletes, who have 
 battled with fortune, who have won their meed, and have passed 
 the contest down to others, are those whom we feared could 
 never hold their own in the sharp struggle for existence. Once 
 more we see — 
 
 " The world belongs to those who come the last, 
 They shall find hope and strength as we have done." 
 
630 THE COMrLETE HOME. 
 
 It seemed long to look forward, this lapse of half a century, but 
 its memory is as of a dream of the morning, and the pair in 
 whom so long ago the home began stand fresh and vigorous, 
 and strong in experience, and glad in the fruition of their hopes. 
 
 There have been those who have not only seen the golden 
 wedding-day, but have seen even the seventy-fifth anniversary 
 of their marriage. Such instances are rare indeed, but in them 
 we catch a glimpse of how long a home may be prolonged in its 
 original founders, and we consider that in the succession of its 
 inheritors the Home is immortal upon earth : it is an evergreen 
 among the trees of the field forever imperceptibly renewing its 
 foliage. The long silent and childless home of Abraham put 
 forth new strength in the dwelling of Isaac, and spread out 
 broadly and vigorously in the full house of Jacob, reaching at 
 last in a millionfold vitality into the thousands of Ephraim and 
 the ten thousands of Manasseh. 
 
 The family was by nature intended to be indestructible. This 
 dying out of households is not in accordance with the original 
 expectation, that each home should not only make its own place 
 good, but yield to time the proper interest on its living. If a 
 family dies out, it is undubitably because some law of health or 
 morals has been violated ; knowingly or ignorantly some primal 
 law has been transgressed ; the stock which should have grown 
 better and better with civilization and cultivation has dropped 
 into decay. A vigorous, active, cheery, confident, successful 
 race is the heirloom of most good homes to the world. The 
 homes of genius, of artists, of profound scholars, of great 
 inventors, of unconquerable generals, of mighty rulers, are 
 comparatively few. One home produced a William the Silent, 
 and a million of homes gave him the dauntless nation which he 
 lifted into glory. Nor is it mere numbers which are to keep a 
 household from decay, a lineage from exhaustion ; these exces- 
 sive numbers are sometimes the very token that a family is 
 " running out," that its vigor is at discount. 
 
THE MODEL HOME. 53I 
 
 Hugh Miller says he has observed that as a type degenerates, 
 its individuals exceedingly multiply, but their perfection is lost. 
 thf germ of life within them is weakened, their value to the 
 world is continually decreasing, and nature wipes out what is 
 effete. How careful should parents then be to cultivate their 
 children into the best that is possible in physical, mental and 
 moral health, and into a dauntless courage which can bear the 
 rude shoc]<s of life, and become master of its own future. The 
 host of children left to come up as .they will, to tempt in folly 
 and fault the ruin of their forces, is no boon to a state : the 
 children, who will be to the world a gift worth its having, must 
 be worthy in themselves, and worth is an affair of cultivation. 
 Every family shcfuld behold in its children the norm of the 
 church and of the state: the inheritors and creators of the future. 
 Every age must cradle its own kings, conquerors, saints and 
 philanthropists. The Home is the true " Tree of Universal 
 Nature," which the Northern races celebrate : its roots extend 
 through all the world and through all time, and it shall abide 
 the last conflict, and live serene in a new heaven and a new 
 earth. To shield and provide for this home, to bulwark it from 
 foes without, to maintain its place in the world, is man's work — 
 the work of the husband and father; and this work should 
 ennoble him to himself, an^ make him strong against tempta- 
 tion, and eager in every way to fit himself to be a worthy guar- 
 dian of what is so precious. He should feel that he attains his 
 fullest and best development, and best justifies his living, in the 
 happy exercise of family duties and relations : here lie his finest 
 possibilities. To build up and guide the home within, to admin- 
 ister its resources, to create within happiness, affection, honor, 
 is woman's part. Infinite indeed is the folly of that woman who 
 depreciates or permits the weakening of this her kingdom, where 
 she makes her best conquests, and secures her most beautiful 
 rewards. That is a more than suicidal rashness which would 
 
632 THE 'COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 yield that vantage-ground of Home, whence woman has been 
 able to move and mould a world- It is a sphere which, on the 
 one hand, is as wide as the world, and on the other is a calm 
 and assured retreat, where one can sit down, and be at peace 
 Enter, then, O man and woman, into this heritage which God 
 himself has given you ; you set up this abode at the gateway 
 of immortal life ; you bring into it all that is best of your pos- 
 sessions ; you strive here to develop all that is best in your- 
 selves. And we, who stand by and rejoice in this erection of a 
 New Home, behold in letters of light this scripture written 
 over your doorway: " Now, therefore, let it please thee to bless 
 the house of thy servant, that it may be before thee forever ; for 
 thou blessest, O Lord, and it shall be blessed 'forever." 
 
 It was in the above simple little paper on the Model Home— 
 
 a paper ^pressing my most earnest feelings on my favorite 
 
 « 
 
 subject — that for the only time in my life I became an author ; 
 for my too-indulgent young friends and relatives fulfilled their 
 plan of having it printed for their own private use and posses- 
 sion, and whether or not in itself particularly valuable, I trust 
 they will find it precious, because it embodies for them some of 
 
 the best wishes of their ; 
 
 Aunt Sophronia. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 FROM AUNT SOPHRONIA's SCRAP-BOOK. 
 
 ' N making Soups for a family, nice bones, the trimmings and 
 fragments of meat, and a variety of surplus vegetables, can 
 be used to advantage, without purchasing new material. 
 Soups should be cooked in a stone pot, or a china lined kettle. 
 They should be cooked slowly, but for four or five hours; skimming 
 them carefully. Strain through a coarse colander. Serve with bits 
 of toasted bread, chopped egg and parsley, catsup, and grated cheese. 
 
 Murphy Soup. — Pare and chop fine six good-sized polatoes ; put them in a kettle 
 with about three pints of water; season with butter, pepper and salt; boil until just 
 tender, not soft. Just liefore serving, break into it three or four raw eggs, stirring 
 briskly to break the eggs before they cook. 
 
 Calf's Head Soup. — Take a skinned head, one set of feet well-cleaned, put into 
 a pot and cover with water; let it boil until all the bones fall from it (abeut four 
 hours) ; then take out the head and feet, chop very fine and put it back into the pot 
 with sweet marjoram, cloves and black pepper to your taste ; add to this, about 
 fifteen minutes before taking from the fire, some forced meat-balls; should the soup 
 be too thin, add a little flour and butter rubbed together; when done, have ready in 
 the tureen two eggs, boiled hard and chopped fine, one teacup of water, and lemon 
 sliced; pour the soup over them. 
 
 Economical Veal Soup. — Boil » piece of veal, suitable for a fricassee, pie or 
 hash. When tender take the meat up and slip out the bones ; put these back into 
 the kettle and boil for two hours. Then strain the liquor and stand away until the 
 next day. When wanted, take off the fat, put the soup irito a clean pot, add pepper, 
 salt, an onion, a half teacupful of rice, a tablespoonful of flour mixed in cold water, 
 and slices of potatoes. Boil thirty minutes and serve hot. 
 
 French Soup. — Clean nicely a sheep's head and put it in four quarts of boiling 
 water, which reduce to two quarts ; add one small cup of pearl barley, six large 
 onions cut up fine, one sliced carrot, one sliced turnip, a few cloves, a bunch ot 
 sweet herbs, pepper, salt and a little catsup of any kind. Cook one hour longer 
 after adding all ingredients. Strain all off, cut the head into the soup and serve 
 very hot. 
 
 Me. Gomez's Pea Soup. — Put" the peas into water and boil about two hours, 
 
 (533] 
 
S34 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 strain and put on fire; add vegetables (not cabbage) and fry half an onion to a 
 crisp brown ; small piece of ham; fry toasted bread and add in small bits. 
 
 Scotch Broth. — Take haJf teacup barley; four quarts cold water; bring to the 
 boil and skim ; put in now a neck of mutton and boil again for half an hour ; skim 
 well the sides, also the pot ; have ready two carrots, one large onion, one small head 
 cabbage, one bunch parsley, one sprig celery tops ; chop all these fine ; add your 
 chopped vegetables, pepper and salt to taste; take two hours to cook. 
 
 Celery Soup. — Scrape and cut into small pieces two bunches of celery, using the 
 best parts only; add two quarts of good soup stock, with an onion cut into slices, 
 and stew gently until the celeiy is tender; put through a colander, season with 
 pepper and salt and return to the fire; boil up, add a coffeecupful of boiling milk, 
 thickened with a little corn starch or flour, and turn at once into the tureen. A 
 triile of sugar is thought by many an improvement, while a few bits of fried bread 
 put into the tureen before pouring in the soup are a nice addition. 
 
 RECIPES FOR MEATS, FISH AND GAME. 
 
 A Grilled Steak. — Ingredients: One-half a pound of rump steak, lemon, 
 pepper and salt, butler and salad-oil. Time required, about ten minutes. Take a 
 small bunch of parsley, wash it, dry it well in a cloth ahd put it on a board ; chop 
 the parsley up very fine with a knife; take a quarter of an ounce of butter and mix 
 It well with the chopped parsley; sprinkle over it pepper and salt (according to 
 taste) and six drops of lemon juice; make it all up in a small pat; take half a 
 pound of rump steak, half an inch in thickness; pour about a teaspoonful of salad- 
 oil upon a plate ; dip both sides of the steak into the oil ; take a gridiron and warm 
 it wci! by the fire; place the oiled steak on the gridiron, close to the fire, to cook 
 quickly; if the meat is at all frozen it must be warmed gradually through before 
 putting it quite near the fire, or it will be tough ; turn the gridiron with the steak 
 occasionally ; it will take from ten to twelve minutes, according to the brightness 
 and heat of the fire; when the steak is sufficiently cooked, place it on a hot dish, 
 and be careful not to stick the fork into the meat (or the gravy will run out), but 
 into the fat ; take the pat of green butter and put it on the steak, spreading it all 
 over with a knife. 
 
 Beefsteak a la Parisienne. — Take a piece of steak about three-quarters of an 
 inch thick. Trim it neatly, sprinkle it with pepper, dip it in oil and broil it over a 
 clear fire. Turn it after it has been on the fire a minute or two, and keep turning 
 it until done; eight or ten minutes will do it. Sprinkle with salt and serve with a 
 small quantity of finely-minced parsley and a piece of butter mixed together and 
 placed over or under the steak. Garnish with fried potatoes. 
 
 Stewed Beefsteak. — Dissolve some butter in a slewpan, and brown the steak 
 on Both sides, moving it often, that it may not burn ; then shake in a little flour 
 and, when it is colored, pour in gradually sufficient water to cover well the meat. 
 As soon as it boils season with salt, remove the scum, slice an onion, carrot and 
 turnip; add a bunch of sweet herbs, and stew the steak very gently for about three 
 hours. A quarter of an hour before you serve, stir into the gravy two or three tea- 
 spoonfuls of rice flour, mixed with cayenne, half a wineglassful of mushroom 
 catsup and a little seasoning of spice. 
 
 Beef Loaf. — One and one-half pounds of beefsteak chopped very fine, and free 
 from gristle; two cups of rolled crackers (fine), one cup of cold wat< r, one-half c»p 
 of butter, salt and pepper to suit the taste, bake till done. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 63§ 
 
 Stuffed Corned Beef. — A very nice way of preparing corned beef, and of 
 making a change in this oft-repeated dish, is to take a piece of well-corned rump oi 
 round, nine or ten pounds ; make several deep cuts in it ; fill with a stuffing of a 
 handful of soaked bread, squeezed dry, a little fat or butter, a good pinch of cloves, 
 allspice, pepper, a little finely-chopped onion and a little marjoram or thyme; then 
 tie it up tightly in a cloth and saturate it with vinegar; boil about three hours. 
 
 Ham Balls. — Chop fine cold cooked ham ; add an egg for each j^erson ; a little 
 flour ; beat together ; make into balls and fry brown in hot butter. 
 
 Scotch Hash. — Chop raw beef very fine; add butter, pepper, salt, and chopped 
 parsley. Cover with water, slew it (well covered) lor fifteen minutes. Pour it ovsi 
 slices of toasted bread. 
 
 How TO Cook Boiled Salt Pork. — Salted pork for boiling should have lean 
 streaks running through it. From such a piece cut two pounds or more, according 
 to size of family, scrape the rind well, wash clean, then put it to boil in cold soft 
 water; boil one hour, then change the water, filling up with boiling water from the 
 tea-kettle ; boil another hour, tlien take it from the water, lay it on a tin and set 
 in a well-heated oven to bake half an hour. Incline the tin, letting the pork rest 
 in the upper part, so that the grease, as it fries out, may drip away from the meat. 
 Turn the pork from side to side that it may crust nicely. Turn the grease from the 
 tin as it fills ujj, so the pork will not rest in it when baking. Serve hot and see if 
 the men like it. 
 
 Chicken Dressed as Terrapins. — Boil a fine, large, tender chicken; when 
 done, and while yet warm, cut it from the bones into small pieces, as for chicken 
 salad; put it into a stew-pan with one gill of boiling water; then stir together, until 
 perfectly smooth, one-fourth pound butter, one teaspoon flour and the yolk of one 
 egg, which ado to the chicken half at a time, stirfing all well together ; then season 
 with salt and pepper. After letting it simmer about ten minutes, add one spoon of 
 vinegar and send to table hot. " 
 
 Curry. — Take cold chicken, turkey, or lamb, cut in small pieces, and put in 
 frying-pan with about a pint or more boiling water; let it stew a few moments, then 
 take the meat out, thicken the gravy with a little flour, add a teaspoonful of cuny 
 powder, pepper and salt to taste, and let it boil up once ; have some rice boiled 
 whole and dry; put it around the outside of the platter, and in the centre put the 
 meat, and throw the gravy over the meat, not the rice, and serve. 
 
 A Nice Way to Cook Chickens. — Cut the chicken up, put it in a pan, and 
 cover it over with water; let it stew as usual, and when done, make a thickening 
 of cream and flour, adding a piece of butter, and pepper and salt; have made aBd 
 baked a pair of short-cakes, made as for pie-crust, but roll thin, and cut in small 
 squares. This is much better than chicken pie, and more simi^le to make. The 
 crusts should be laid on a dish, and the chicken gravy put over while both are hot. 
 
 Miss Dods' Way of Boiling Fish. — The lecturer first plunged the fish (halibut) 
 into boiling water, remarking that small fish should be first plunged into cold water. 
 She then put into the water a pinch of salt and a tablespoonful of vinegar. " In 
 boiling the fish," said the lecturer, " it depends on its thickness as to the lime it 
 should be boiled. The instant the fish slips from the bone it is ijady. While it is 
 boiling I make the sauce.'' To make the sauce Miss Dods took two boiled eggs, h 
 dessertspoonful of parsley, an ounce of butter, half an ounce of flour, a gill of 
 milk, a gill of cream and a little pepper and salt. The dry parsley was then chopped 
 
536 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 fine. The eggs were boiled for ten minutes and thrown into cold water. The 
 yolks were then removed and cut into halves. " The sauce is really drawn butter," 
 remarked the lecturer. 
 
 Fowls or meats when boiled should always be put into boiling 
 water — not cold, unless the purpose is to make soup — and they should 
 boil very slowly; hard boiling makes them tough, and putting into 
 cold water makes them tasteless. 
 
 Ragout of Turkey. — Cut the cold turkey that is left over from a roast, or boil 
 ii-Uo bits an inch long; put into a saucepan the gravy left from the roast, adding a 
 little water if the quanlhy be small ; add a tablespoonful of butter, a teaspoonful of 
 some pungent sauce, half a teaspoonful of cloves, a little grated nutmeg and a little 
 salt; when it boils up put in the meat; stew very gently for ten minutes, and then 
 stir in a tablespoonful of cranberry or currant jelly, a teaspoonful of browned flour 
 wet in a little cold water and a wineglassful of strong lemonade; boil up once, 
 and serve in a covered dish. A ragout without spice, jelly or wine is generally 
 preferred. 
 
 Stewed Turkey. — An old turkey is more tender stewed than when cooked in 
 any other way. Put into a large pot half a pound of bacon cut in slices, u quarter 
 of a pound of knuckle of veal, three sprigs of parsley, two of thyme, six small 
 onions, one carrot cut in small pieces, three cloves, salt and pepper, and then the 
 turkey; add a pint each of broth and water; cover as closely as possible, and 
 simmer gently about two hours and a half; then turn the turkey over and put it 
 back on the fire fur another two hours and a half; dish the turkey; strain the sauce; 
 put it back on the fire, and after reducing it to a glaze spread it over the turkey and 
 serve. Some prefer stewed turkey when cold. 
 
 ChicI'^en Pudding. — Cut up as for fricassee and parboil, seasoning well with 
 pepper, salt and a lump of butter, size of an egg to each chicken. The fowl should 
 be young and tender, and divided at every joint. Stew slowly for half an hour; 
 take them out, and lay them on a flat dish to cool ; set aside the water in which they 
 were stewed for your gravy. J4^ke a batter of one quart of milk, three cups flour, 
 three tablespoons melted butter, one-half teaspoon soda and one spoonful cream 
 tartar, four eggs, well beaten, and a little salt. Put a layer of chicken in the bottom 
 of the dish, and pour about one-half cupful of batter over it, enough to conceal the 
 meat; then another layer of chicken and more batter till the dish is full. The 
 batter must form the crust. Bake one hour in a moderate oven. Beat up an egg 
 and stir it in the gravy which was set aside. Thicken with two teaspoons flour, 
 boil up and send to table in a gravy dish. 
 
 Broiled Partridge. — If the birds are tender, split them open at the back and 
 broil whole ; but if not young, use only the breasts for broiling, reserving the other 
 portions for a stew, or to help toward making a game pie. Use as little water as 
 possible in cleansing game; many use none at all, thinking that by the use of water 
 the blood, and, consequently, the flavor, is washed away and the meat left dry and 
 tasteless. Dip the portions to be broiled in melted butter, and broil over a steady 
 fire of live coals, turning often, and basting in the hot butter once or twice during 
 <he cooking. Be careful not to cook them overdone. Place on a hot platter: 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 537 
 
 sprinkle pepper and salt and pour a little melted butler over each piece ; then strew 
 the surface lightly with chopped parsley and arrange a few slices of lemon over the 
 pieces. Garnish the edges of the dish with triangles of buttered toast and 
 spoonfuls of currant jelly; or place the toast under the birds and the sliced lemon 
 and jslly on top of them. For breakfast fried mush may lie substituted for the toast, 
 and a border of shoo-fly or Saratoga potatoes around the dish. 
 
 Salmi of Wild Duck. — First, partly roast the duck; cut it into joints and slices; 
 put refuse bits of fat or skin into a saucepan with a cup of gravy ; two onions fried 
 in butter ; pepper and salt to taste, a pinch of cloves and nutmeg, parsley, marjoram 
 and sage chopped fine. Boil one hour, skim when cool, and return to the saucepan 
 with a piece of butter the size of a walnut; thicken with browned flour; let it boil 
 a few minutes ; put in the pieces of duck, after which it must not boil, but the 
 saucepan should be placed in a dish of boiling water. Fry bread in some of the 
 graify; cut it into squares; lay them on a hot dish; place the pieces of duck neatly 
 in the centre and pour the gravy over all. 
 
 Broiled Quails. — Pick them carefully, so as not to break the skin ; split each 
 one down the back and baste with melted butter; then broil over a bed of live coals, 
 jind baste twice with butter while cooking. As soon as done, lay each bird on a 
 thin slice of buttered toast, sprinkle with pepper and salt, put a little more butter 
 and a spoonful of currant jelly on each quail and serve immediately. 
 
 In frying- meat or fowl, always put it into a hot pan, where the fat 
 
 is already very hot. 
 
 FISH. 
 
 Roasted Codfish. — For roasting take a small, fresh cod, clean it well. Cut off 
 the head and tail. Split the fish, clean it well and spread it open, sprinkle with 
 some cayenne and a little fine salt. Have ready a thick oaken plank, large enough, 
 or a little larger, than will hold the fish spread out open. Stand up the board before 
 a clear, hot fire till the whole piece of plank is well heated and almost charred ; but 
 take care not to allow it to catch fire. Then spread out the fish evenly and tack it 
 to the board with four spike nails, driven in so as to be easily drawn out again. 
 Place the inside of the cod next the fire and the back next the board, which, if it 
 has been well heated,, will cook it through. Stand up the plank before the fire, set- 
 ting a dish at the bottom to catch the drippings, and when you see that it is thoi- 
 oiighly done take it up, but do not move it from the board. Send it to the table on 
 the board, the ends of which may be rested upon muffin-rings, or something of that 
 sort, to prevent injury to the cloth. Eat it with any sort of fish-sauce, or with a 
 little butter and cayenne only. This is now the most approved manner of cooking 
 * a fresh shad in the spring, and nothing can be better. Fishboards can be obtained 
 at the furnishing stores. 
 
 Boiled Trout. — Trout o'' good size are very appetizing when boiled like salmon 
 or halibut. Put two tablespoonfuls of vinegar into enough boiling water to cover 
 the fish ; add a teaspoonful of salt and boil for twenty-five minutes. Serve with a 
 drawn butter gfavy, made by thickening milk with a little flour, and boiling it by 
 placing the basin in a pan of water. Add a large piece of butter just before you 
 serve it. Capers can be added to this sauce, or parsley, and the latter should bu 
 placed about the fish. 
 
538 I'HE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Boston Fish Balls. — Half a pound cold fish, three ounces suet, shred fine, a 
 small lump of butter, a teacupful of bread crumbs, pepper, salt and nutmeg, and 
 two teaspoonfuls of anchovy sauce. Pound all together in a mortar, mix with an 
 egg, divide into small cakes and fry them a little brown. 
 
 Fried Oysters. — Select the largest and finest oysters. Have ready a skillet of 
 boiling lard. Dip your oysters, one at a time, in beaten yolk of egg, then in grated 
 bread crumbs, lastly in sifted meal and then drop into the lard. Turn, and allow 
 them to become only slightly browned. Drain upon a sieve and send to table hot. 
 
 Stewed Oysters. — Drain the liquor from two quarts of firm, plump oysters, mix 
 with it a small teacup of hot water, add a little salt and pepper, and set over the fire 
 in a saucepan. When it boils, add a large cupful of rich milk. Let it boil up once, 
 add the oysters, let them boil five minutes. When they ruffle, add two tablespoons 
 butter, and the instant it is melted, and well stirred in, take off the fire. 
 
 Oyster Macaroni. — Boil macaroni in a cloth to keep it straight. Put a layer in 
 a dish seasoned with butter, salt and pepper, then a layer of oysters ; alternate until 
 the dish is full. Mix some grated bread with a beaten egg, spread over the top and 
 bake. 
 
 Oyster Patties. — Make puff paste in this way : To every pound of flour add 
 three-quarters of a pound of butter, the yolk of one egg; use ice-cold water; chop 
 half the butter into the flour, then stir in the egg; work all into a dough; roll out 
 thiri; spread on some of the butter, fold closely '(butter side in) and roll again; do this 
 until the butter is all used up; keep the paste in a cold place while you prepare the 
 oysters. Set the oysters on the stove in a saucepan, with liquid enough to cover 
 them ; as soon as'they come to a boil skim them ; stir in a little butter and pepper; 
 also, if desired, a little cream. Line your small tins with youi paste; put three or 
 four oysters in each, add a little of the liquor, then cover with paste; bake in a 
 quick oven twenty minutes ; while hot wash over the top with a beaten egg, using 
 a swab or brush, and set in the oven a minute or two to glaze. 
 
 Oysters may be more plainly fried, by merely rolling them well in 
 corn meal and laying thfem in the hot fat. Do not let them lie long 
 in the frying-pan. When clams are fried, the hard portion should be 
 thrown away, as it is indigestible. Fish should be cooked slowly and 
 thoroughly : it is done when it parts readily from the bone. Salt fish 
 should be well washed in one water and put to soak, skin upwards, in 
 a second water. Fish and oysters should always be dressed with 
 parsley and hard-boiled eggs chopped fine. If boiled, serve dry, laid 
 on a folded napkin, tho; sauce being in a sauce-boat. If fried, take 
 c«re to have a nice, even brown, with no burned and no white spots. 
 
 VEGETABLES. 
 
 Potatoes. — A common dlih for common people many think, especially if cooked 
 impeded. Not if you know how to cook them. Many people boil them in a great 
 f ot of water, and then let them stand in that water after they are cooked. Always 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 53& 
 
 (ry to have potatoes of uniform size, cut out any rough places made by moles or worms, 
 place them in a pot and merely cover with water; keep the lid on and do not let 
 them stop boiling. Boil fifteen or twenty minutes, until done, pour off any watei 
 which may remain and let them begin to dry in a pot over a slow fire ; thus ycu 
 have a "dainty dish to set before a king." 
 
 Cooking Cabbage. — A friend came in a few ^ays ago to tell us of a new way oi 
 cooking cabbage, saying she was sure we would like the new recipe, if only we 
 wrould test its virtues. Of course, we were pleased to add any new item to the 
 housekeeping treasure box, and so listened with attention, whilst she recounted thei 
 formula of the new discovery, and this was the way of it : Trim a medium-sized 
 cabbage, cut in half and put it to cool; in cold water; let it boil fifteen minutes, then 
 pour off the water and refill with boiling water from the teakettle ; boil twenty 
 minutes longer, then take the cabbage from the water, draining it dry; chop fine, 
 season it with pepper, salt and butter, to taste. Beat together two fresh eggs and 
 four spcfenfuls of sweet cream, add them to the seasoned cabbage and stir all together. 
 Butter a pudding-dish and put the cabbage in and bake in a well-heated oven twenty 
 minutes, or until it is browned over the top. 
 
 Fried Cabbage. — Cut cibbage very fine, on a slaw-cutter, if possible ; salt and 
 pepper, stir well and let stand five minutes. Have an iron kettle smoking hot, drop 
 one tablespoon lard into it, then the cabbage, stirring briskly until quite tender; 
 send to table immediately. One-half cup sweet cream, and three tablespoons vin- 
 egar — the vinegar to be added after the cream has been well stirred, and after it is 
 taken from the stove, is an agreeable change. When properly done, an invalid can 
 eat it, and there is no offensive odor from cooking it. 
 
 Cooking Onions. — The best way we have found to cook onions is to put them to 
 boil in soft water, letting them boil briskly till tender. Have ready heated a cup 
 of sweet cream seasoned with butter, pepper awd salt; dip the onions from the 
 boiling wat^r into the heated cream, taking care that as much of the water in which 
 they were cooked shall drain out as possible before putting itito the cream, then 
 serve hot. Onions cooked in this way will not flavor the breath so fully as when 
 cooked in the usual way, and are not as liable to rise on the stomach. In taking 
 the skins off, stand by an open window or door, and there will be no cause lor tears 
 to flow, as the current of air in passing takes the pungent odor of the onion with it; 
 thus giving relief to the eye. For medium-sized onions allow on* hour's time for 
 cooking. 
 
 Hotel Pones. — Take one pint of fine Indian meal and one pint of milk ; melt 
 one tablespoonful of butter and add to it; beat two eggs very light; one teaspoonful 
 of cream of tartar, dry; dissolve a teaspoonful of soda in a small quantity of milk; 
 beat all hard and bake in a quick oven. 
 
 Carrots for Dinner. — Wash, scrape, let lie in cold water for an hour ot more; 
 then boil until tender; drain, mash, season with a good-sized piece of butter; pepiiei 
 and salt and serve very hot. 
 
 Hulled Corn.— Take white corn, if you can get it ; none hut plump corn ; shell 
 and boil it in weak lye until the hull is broken ; then clean off the lye, fill the ketlls. 
 or turn the corn into a dish-pan ; take your hands and rub the corn well ; wash in 
 several waters (the old way is nine times, but six will do) ; then clean your kettle 
 and return to the stove ; put in plenty of water and boil until very tender, which 
 
540 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 usually takes almost the entire day. As the water boils away add more. It ft 
 better to add hot water than cold. 
 
 To Boil Rice Properly. — To every cup of rice, one quart of water; salt to 
 tasie. Let the water boil hard; then throw in rice previously well washed; when 
 it begins to boil do not allow it to be stirred, and boil twenty minutes, not touching 
 it; pour off any water remaining; place the saucepan on back of range, partially 
 covered, for a ^Qvt minutes ; when turned out into the dish for the table each grain 
 will be found separate. The rice should steam on back of range until it appear? 
 dry on top, then shaken out into the dish, not removed with the spoon. 
 
 Barley is a cheap, palatable, wholesome addition to our bill of fare. Boil it 
 three or four hours, in a china-lined or new tin vessel; serve with milk and sugar, 
 or merely salted to eat with gravy. Cold boiled barley is excellent rolled with flour 
 into croquettes and fried. 
 
 Bean Polenta. — Wash common white beans, put them into cold water and let 
 them boil about three hours, until soft and mealy ; for every two quarts cff boiled 
 beans, take three tablespoons molasses, one teaspoon salt, one teaspoon mustard, one 
 tablespoon olive oil or butter, one-half teaspoon pepper, two tablespoons vinegar; 
 stir these in thoroughly and cook for ten minutes. The beans, when done, should 
 be quite dry. Take great care not to scorch them. Beans are never so good 
 dressed in any other way. 
 
 Bean Croquettes. — Take the above, when cold, mould into croquettes with egg 
 and flour, and fry to a fine brown ; they are delicious. 
 
 Breakfast Potatoes. — Slice cold potatoes fine ; season ; have in a pan a cup 
 of good meat gravy left from yesterday's dinner, turn the potatoes therein, and stir 
 for five minutes. • 
 
 Potatoes au Creme.— Slice cold potatoes fine ; have in a tin pan half a cup 
 of nice milk, half a teaspoon of sjlt, a lump of butter the size of a walnut, a little 
 pepper, a little parsley, if liked ; as soon as the milk scalds turn in the potatoes 
 and let them cook, stirring continually until they are nearly dry. 
 
 Ego-plant. — Soak the peeled slices for one hour in salt water, then fry brown in 
 hot lard or dripping. 
 
 Fbied Sweet Potatoes.— Take cold sweet potatoes and slice thin ; have in a 
 fryin.o-pan a large tablespoon of butter hot, or mixed lard and butter; put the 
 potatoes in, sprinkle them with a tablespoon of sugar, and keep stirring until well 
 cooked. Never use pepper and salt in dressing a sweet potato. 
 
 Squash of the patty-pan variety can be cooked exactly as egg-plant. 
 
 Spinach is better steamed done than when put in water. 
 
 All vegetables should be put into boiling water which has salt in it, 
 and the water should not be allowed to stop boiling, as this makes 
 them watery. All vegetables, such as squash, carrots and turnips, 
 which are to be mashed, should be drained well in a colander, then 
 dressed with butter, pepper, salt and a little milk. 
 
 Tomatoes.— If there are a hundred ways of cooking eggs, there are as many for 
 cooking tomatoes. When they are brought to the table raw the skins should not 
 have been scalded off: if served raw they must be washed in cold water; and when 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 641 
 
 »Uced set on ice for a few minutes, or in a very cold spring-house. They are n'ca 
 Bliced with cucumbers and onions, or cucumbers alone. 
 
 Stewed, they should have their skins scalded oft"; stew in their own juice, with- 
 out added water, for fifteen minutes; then add butter, salt, pepper and bread-crumbs. 
 Some like the addition of sugar, or to thicken them with flour. 
 
 Fry ripe tomatoes in butterj dress with cream, heated. 
 
 Green Tomatoes Fried in butter and lard are excellent. 
 
 To Roast. — Remove the core, put in its place a bit of butter, salt, pepper, and 
 tork with a square bit of bread; put in a hot oven for ten or fifteen minutes, basting 
 with melted butter. 
 
 For Curry — Cut up eight large tomatoes, put into a china-lined kettle with a 
 half teacup of rice which is about two-thirds done, let them cook, stirring fre- 
 quently, until the rice is well done ; add a large tablespoon of butter, a dessertspoon 
 of sugar, a little salt and pepper, and a little curry powder, or fresh mustard; stir 
 for five minutes and serve. The consistency should be that of well-boiled rice. 
 This is a delicious dish. 
 
 Green Tomatoes cut in slices, soaked for two hours in salt water and then 
 made into sweet pickle, are delicious. Make the sweet pickle as for pears or 
 peaches. 
 
 Baked Tomatoes should be peeled and prepared as for stewing, be well mixed 
 with bread-crumbs, and covered well on the top with bread-crumb and pieces of 
 butter; bake three-quarters of an hour. ' 
 
 Cucumbers should be sliced in salt water for an hour before using; then dress 
 with vinegar, mustard, pepper and salt. They are more wholesome if sliced with 
 onions. A large cucumber, just about to turn white or light colored, can be fried 
 as egg-plant and is quite as good. Cucumbers at this stage are excellent for sweet 
 pickle, but the quarters must be soaked over night in salt water. 
 
 Lettuce, Celery, Radishes and Onions should be soaked for two hours in 
 salt water — with ice in it, if possible — befoi-e coming to the table. 
 
 In the spring use {x&&\y greens, as beet or turnip greens, dande- 
 lions, spinach, very young miik-weed, lamb's quarters, etc. Also eat 
 asparagus freely : it is a nervine. 
 
 SIDE-DISHES.^ 
 
 Oatmeal Preparation. — Oatmeal is very nice prepared the following way: 
 Put a piece of butter the size of a hickory nut and a teaspoonful of salt in three pints 
 of boiling water, then add one-half pint of oatmeal ; for ten minutes let it boil fast, 
 stirring frequently; then place it over a saucepan of boiling water, to continue 
 cooking slowly for about half an hour. When over the water it will only need 
 stirring occasionally. 
 
 Pandowdies. — Pandowdies are made by paring, cutting and coring apples 
 enough to fill a very deep pan; put in a little cold water— a cupful, perhaps— and 
 cover very closely with rye and Indian meal crust. Bake four or five Hours, then 
 break the crust up, pu-sh it down into the hot apples, cover tightly with a plate and 
 bake two or three hours longer; then take from the oven and let it stand covered 
 until morning, when, with good rich milk, you will have a dish fit to set before the 
 king or any other man. 
 35 
 
542 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Macaroni a L'jTALIENNE.^Take one-fourth pound macaroni, boil it in watei 
 until tender; thicken one-half pint milk with two tablespoons flour; add two table- 
 spoons cream, one-half tablespoon mustard, a little white pepper and salt ; stir in this 
 one-half pound grated cheese; boil altogether a few minutes; add the macaroni, 
 boil ten minutes. This is the mode adopted at the best tables in Florence. 
 
 Queen's Toast. — Cut thick slices of baker's bread into rounds or squares and fry 
 lo a nice brown in butter or lard. Dip each piece quickly into boiling water, 
 sprinkle with powdered Sugar and cinnamon, and pile one upon the other. Serve 
 witli a sauce made of powdered sugar dissolved in the juice of a lemon and a little 
 hot water. 
 
 A Dish for Breakfast. — Take six good cooking apples, cut them in slices one- 
 fourth of an inch thick, have a pan of fresft hot lard ready, drop the slices in and 
 fry till brown; sprinkle a little sugar over them and serve hot. 
 
 Eggs Ai; Gratin. — Cut some hard-boiled eggs in slices, lay them on a well- 
 buttered dish ; next, put a large spoonful of white sauce into a stewpan, with two 
 ounces of Parmesan cheese, a small piece of butter, the yolks of two or three eggs 
 and a little peppfer. Stir over the fire till it begins to thicken, pour it over the hard- 
 boiled eggs, sprinkle bread-crumbs over all, put the dish in the oven, and serve as 
 soon as the contents begin to color. 
 
 AsTOR House Rolls. — Into two quarts of flour put pieces of butter the size of 
 
 >i egg, a little salt, one tablespoonful of white sugar, one pint of milk, scalded and 
 
 dd while warm ; half a cup of yeast, or one small cake ; when the sponge is light, 
 
 nould for fifteen minutes; let it rise again, roll out, cut into round cakes; when 
 
 light, flatten with the hand or rolling pin ; place a piece of butter on top and fold 
 
 each over itself; when light, bake it in a quick oven. 
 
 Stewed Macaroni. — Break the macaroni into pieces an inch long, throw them 
 into boiling water. Boil half an hour, and drain. Put into a stew-pan a pint' 
 of cream, an ounce of butter, one well-beaten egg, pepper and salt. Stir over a 
 clear fire till it thickens, but do not boil; add the macaroni, boil five minute?, and 
 serve hot. 
 
 Apples and Bacon. — Cut some nice sweet bacon into thin slices, and fry almost 
 . to a crispness. Have prepared some greenings, pared, cored and sliced, and fry in 
 >the fat left in the pan from the bacon. The bacon should be kept hot until the 
 . apples are ready, when they should be taken and placed upon the slices of meat. 
 
 A Relish for Breakfast. — Take one-half pound of fresh cheese, cut it in 
 ' thin slices, put it in a frying-pan, turning over it a large cupful sweet milk ; add 
 one-fourth teaspoonful dry mustard, a pinch of salt and pepper, and a piece of butter 
 the size of a butternut ; stir the mixture all the time. Roll three Boston crackers 
 very fine and sprinkle it gradually, and then turn at once into a warm dish j to be 
 ■sent to the table immediately. 
 
 Scalloped Eggs. — Boil five or six eggs hard ; chop them up roughly, make a 
 white sauce, and mix all up together. Well butter and bread-crumb the scallop 
 shell, put in a layer of chopped egg, then a layer of bread-crumbs and butter alter- 
 wately until the shell is full. Finish with bread-crumbs on the top, and bake a 
 light brown. 
 
 Chocolate. — Scrape two sticks of chocolate and boil it in half a cup of water. 
 Stir to a smooth paste. Sweeten a pint of milk with loaf-sugar, and, when boiling, 
 ;pour on to the chocolate and let it boil together a few seconds, stirring it well. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 543 
 
 Serve immediately. Some persons prefer a little water instead of all milk. 
 Sweeten a little cream and whip to a froth, and place on the top of each cup. 
 
 Tongue Toast. — Take cold boiled tongue, mince it fine, mix it with cream, and 
 to every half pint of the mixture allow the well-beaten yolks of two eggs. Place 
 over the fire, and let it simmer a minute or two. Have ready some nicely toasted 
 bread ; butter it, place on a hot dish and pour the mixture over. Send to table hot. 
 
 Baked Eggs. — Have hot meat gravy in a pie-dish, break in the eggs; bake 
 fifteen minutes. 
 
 Cheese Toast. — Cook three ounces of fine cut cheese, one well-beaten egg, on« 
 spoon butter and one-half cup new milk. When smooth pour the mixture over 
 nicely browned toast. 
 
 Scrambled Eggs. — Beat the eggs light, turn into a pan with bacbn fried in dice, 
 with fine chopped ham, parsley, or chipped dried beef, and stir rapidly until 
 fooked. 
 
 Croquettes — Can be made of cold rice, barley, beans, potatoes, hash, or 
 minced meat. They should be moulded a nice oval shape in flour, or rolled cracker 
 and beaten egg, and fried an even brown ; put them into very hot fat. 
 
 Pain Perdu. — Cut stale bread into pretty shapes ; dip it into egg and flour, fry 
 in butter to a bright brown, sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon. 
 
 Yorkshire Pudding. — When roasting a piece of beef, lay it on sticks in your 
 baking-pan, so that the juice from the meat will drop into the pan below. Three- 
 quarters of an hour before the beef is done mix the following pudding and pour 
 into the pan under the meat, letting the drippings continue to fall upon it : One pint 
 milk, four eggs well beaten, two cups of flour, one teaspoon of salt. 
 
 Marrow Dumplings. — Two eggs, two ounces beef-marrow, some crumbs of 
 bread and a tablespoonful of flour. Beat the marrow to a cream ; whisk the eggs 
 and add them to the marrow. Well-soak the crumbs in boiling milk, beat them up 
 and add to the other ingredients. Stir all well together, then form into small dump- 
 lings. Drop them into boiling broth and let them simmer for half an hour. They 
 may be sei-ved in soup or with roast meat. 
 
 Stewed Steak. — For this savory dish one pound sirloin steak, half an ourrce 
 butter, half an ounce flour, a little pepper and salt, half a pint of cold water, a table- 
 spoonful of catsup and a few drops of caramel. To prepare the dish first make 
 the butter very hot, and then put in the steak and brown it on both sides. The steak 
 should be cut an inch in thickness. As soon as it is brown take it out of the frying- 
 pan and put it into the stewpan. At the same time put half an ounce of flour intt 
 the frying-pan and stir it in with the butter, and add by degrees half a pint of cold 
 water and stir well until it is mixed. Then add a little pepper and salt and pour t 
 over the steak. Garnish it with fancy cut pieces of carrot and turnip, then cook a 
 slowly as possible for an hour and a half and put it into a flat dish, when it is readj 
 
 to be served. — Miss Dods. 
 
 CAKES. 
 
 ArpLE Short Cake. — Stew tender, juicy apples in a very little water until they 
 are smooth and thick, then season them with sugar, a little butter and a pinch of 
 salt. Make a short cake of a pint of flour sifted with two teaspoons of baking 
 powder and a little salt. Rub a piece of butter half the size of an egg thoroughly 
 into the flour and mix it into a soft dough with sweet milk, about a coifeecupful. 
 Divide the dough into two equal parts; take one of these on to a floured board and 
 
544 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 roil into a sheet, handling as little as possible. Lay it into a medium-sired drifting 
 pan and brush the surface very lightly with melted butter; then roll out the balance 
 of the dough and lay it over the first piece. ' Bake in a very hot oven until donei 
 [hen divide the cake, which will sepnrate, without cutting, where it was buttered. 
 Butter the lower half and spread it with a generous layer of the warm apple-sauce. 
 Put on the balance of the cake, crust down ; butter and spread it with apple-sauce 
 and serve warm with sweet cream. 
 
 Measure Cake.— -Four teacups flour, two teacups sugar, one and one-half tea 
 cups butter, one lemon, four eggs and one nutmeg. 
 
 Shrewsbury Cake. — One pound flour, twelve ounces sugar, one pound butter, 
 five eggs. Spices to taste. 
 
 Sponge Cake for Winter. — One cupful flour, one cupful of sugar, two eggi, 
 one teaspoonful of baking powder, one-half teacupful water; beat up quickly and 
 bake. 
 
 Pound Cake. — One pound flour, one pound sugar, one pound butter, eight egg», 
 three spoonfuls rose water, mace or other spice. 
 
 Cheap Pound Cake. — One cup sugar, one-half cup butter, one-third cup milk, 
 three eggs, one and a half cups of flour, one teaspoonful baking powder. 
 
 Mrs. Holmes' Liberty Caice. — One cup butter, two cups sugar, one cup milk, 
 one and one-half pints of flour, three eggs, salt and spices, and three teaspoons 
 Babbitt's yeast powders. 
 
 Pork Cake. — One cup of chopped pork, one cupful of raisins, the same 
 of molasses and milk, one teaspoonful each of salt and soda, and four cupfuls of 
 flour. 
 
 Gold Cake. — The yolks of five eggs, one cup sugar, one cup rich cream, one 
 teaspoonful soda, a pinch of salt, two cups of flour; season with vanilla. 
 
 Silver Cake. — Half cup butter, one and one-half cups white sugar, one-half cup 
 sweet milk, the whites of five eggs, one-half teaspoonful soda, and one teaspoonful 
 cream tartar. 
 
 Feather Cake. — One cup of sugar, one-half cup of milk, one and one-half cups 
 of flour, one tablespoonful of butter, one-half teaspoonful of soda, one tablespoonful 
 of cream of tartar; flavor with lemon. 
 
 Clove Cake. — One pound flour, one pound sugar, half-pound butter, one pound 
 raisins, two eggs, teacupful sweet milk, one teaspoon saleratus, tablespoon cloves, 
 tablespoon cinnamon and tablespoon nutmeg. 
 
 Puff Cake. — Three cupfuls of flour, three eggs, two cups of white sugar, one 
 cup of milk, one cup of butter, two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar and one spoonful 
 of soda. 
 
 Widow's Cake.^-Two cups Indian meal, three cups wheat flour, one pint butter 
 milk, four tablespoons molasses, two teaspoons saleratus. To be eaten hot, with 
 butter-, for tea or breakfast. 
 
 Hickory Nut Cake. — Two teacups of sugar, one-half cup of butter, one cup of 
 thin cream, three and one-half cups of flour, three teaspoonfuls of baking powder 
 sifted through flour, six eggs beaten separately and one pint of. chopped hickory 
 nuts. 
 
 Fruit Cake. — One pound brown sugar, one of butter, ten eggs, one of flour, 
 two of raisins and two of currants, half pound of citron, a nutmeg, tablespoon 
 ck>ves, one of allspice, two teaspoons baking powder. 
 
.V 
 
 VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 545 
 
 A FiUIT Cake. — A lady says the following is good, and she V,tinws it: One 
 pound brown sugar, one pound browned flour, three pounds seedlrjs raisins, two 
 pounds currants, one pound citron, three-fourths pound butter, on<j cup molasses, 
 two teaspoons mace, two of cinnamon, one of cloves, one of black prpper, one nut- 
 meg, one teaspoon soda, twelve eggs, one-half cup of currant jelly nelted in one- 
 half cup hot water. This cake will keep for years. 
 
 White Fruit Cake. — One pound of sugar, the white of sixtem eggs, three- 
 fourths of a pound of butter, two cocoanuts grated, one-half pourd of almonds 
 blanched and sliced thin, two pounds of dried citron cut thin, one 'easpoonful of 
 soda and two of cream of tartar dissolved in cream. 
 
 Ice Cream Cake. — One cup of butter, two cups of sugar, one cup of milk, three 
 cups of flour, whites of five eggs, three teaspoonfuls of baking povder; bake in 
 thin layers ; three small cups of sugar, dissolved in a little water, and boiled until 
 done for candy ; cool a little, and pour over the unbeaten whites of eggs, and heat 
 togethfir half an hour. Put between the cakes. 
 
 Queen's Cake.— One pound of sugar, three-quarters of a pound of butter, on« 
 pound of flour, six eggs, mix together with milk ; then add one-half pound of cur- 
 rants, one-half pound of raisins, one-quarter pound of citron, one teaspoonful of 
 cinnamon, one-half teaspoonful of mace, two tablespoons lemon-juice. Bake for 
 two hours. 
 
 Jenny Lind Cake. — Two and a-half cups sugar, one cup butter, one cup milk, 
 four cups flour, four eggs, two teaspoons baking powder ; bake in three sheets, two 
 plain ; after taking out the two plain, leaving less than a third, add one cup raisins, 
 one cup currants, one-half cup sliced citron, two teaspoons molasses, one teaspoon 
 cloves, one teaspoon cinnamon, one grated nutmeg; spread with jelly and frost 
 putting the fruit cake between the two plain. If the fruit cake seems a little thin, 
 add a little more flour. 
 
 Chocolate Marble Cake. — One cup of butter, two cups powdered sugar, three 
 cups flour, one cup sweet milk, four eggs, one and a-half teaspoonfuls soda, one of 
 cream tartar sifted with the flour. When the cake is mixed, take out about a tea- 
 cupful of the batter and stir into this a great spoonful of grated chocolate ; wet 
 with a scant tablespoonful of milk. Fill your mould about an inch deep with the 
 yellow batter, then drop upon this a spoonful of the dark mixture, spreading it in 
 broken circles upon the lighter surface. Proceed in this order until all is used. 
 
 Tout Fait. — For this nice dessert cake are required the yolks of four eggs, three 
 tablespoonfuls of sugar, the same of flour, about two tablespoonfuls of milk and the 
 juice of half a small lemon ; the whites of three eggs are beaten to a stiff froth 
 and mixed with the yolks, flour, etc., the compound then being put in a buttered 
 pan and placed in a quick oven. 
 
 Molasses Doughnuts. — Take one cup of molasses, two-thirds cup of milk, one 
 egg and a piece of butter half the size of an egg, two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar 
 and one of soda. Grate in some nutmeg and use flour enough to roll out. 
 
 Thin Gingerbread. — Boil one quart of molasses twenty minutes, add immedi. 
 ately one teaspoonful soda, one cup of butter, ginger to taste, flour to make a paste 
 to roll. 
 
 Matrimonies. — Three eggs, well beaten, a little salt, flour enough to mix hard; 
 roll thin as paper; cut Into fingers and give them a twist. Fry in hot lard— hotter 
 Ihan for common fried cakes. 
 
546 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Chicago Puffs. — Four cups of flour, four cups of new milk, four eggs, butt« 
 the size of a walnut ; beat it as light as possible. Bake in cups about twenty-five 
 
 minutes. 
 
 Wafers. — Melt a quarter of a pound of butter and mix it with half a pint of 
 milk, a teaspoonful of salt, three beaten eggs and sulificient sifted flour to enable you 
 to roll them out easily. They should be rolled very thin, cut into small circular 
 cakes and baked in an oven of moderate size. Frost the v/hole and sprinkle sugar- 
 sand or comfits over it as soon as frosted. 
 
 Sweet Crackers. — One pound of flour, one-half pound of butter well-rubbed 
 in; one-half pound powdered sugar, mix with the yolk of one egg, well beaten, and 
 a glass of sweet wine ; roll out the paste very thin, and cut out in any small shape 
 you please. 
 
 Ginger Crackers. — One cup of sugar, one cup of lard, two cups of molasses, 
 teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in a little warm water, flour enough to make a stiff 
 dough, two tablespoonfuls of ginger; roll thm. 
 
 Black Fruit Cake, — One pound butter and one pound white sugar, beaten to a 
 cream; beat well the yolks of twelve eggs, and stir all together; add half a pound 
 of flour, stir in well ; then one tablespoonful of cinnamon, two teaspoonfuls nutmeg, 
 one teaspoonful cloves, stir well ; then the beaten whites of the eggs, with another 
 half pound of flour, one pound currants well washed and drained, one pound raisins 
 seeded and chopped, one-half pound of citron cut in thin pieces; mix all together; 
 this will make two cakes; bake two hours or longer; bake in deep tins lined with 
 well-buttered paper. 
 
 Use no wine or brandy in cake-making ; beat eggs light, always sift 
 flour, and butter the cake tins. 
 
 PIES AND PUDDINGS. 
 
 Apple Pot Pie. — Make a crust, with half of it line the sides of a stew pan, 
 having a close-fitting cover (a porcelain or granite one is the best). Fill the centre 
 with peeled and sliced apples, and add to them a cupful of syrup, a pinch of ground 
 cinnamon, another of salt, and a little butter, or use sugar and a little water instead 
 of the syrup. Wet the edges of the crust and fit the balance of it over the top of 
 the apples, being careful to have the saucepan only two-thirds full, in order to give 
 room for rising. Put the cover on and boil for an hour without once lifting it, but 
 be careful it does not stand in a place so hot as to burn. Cut the top crust into 
 four equal parts, dish the apples and lay the crust from the sides ; cut into even 
 pieces, around the outer edge, and then the top crust.over all, and serve hot. 
 
 Plum Pudding. — One pound butter, one pound sugar, one pound suet chopped 
 fine, two and a half pounds flour. Prepare the fruit the day before ; take two 
 pounds raisins, seed, chop and rub in flour; two pounds currants; wash first in 
 waiTn water; put in a colander to drain, then in two or three waters, cold; 
 then spread out on a large dish to dry before the fire ; when dry rub in flour. 
 Ouarter pound of citron sliced very thin, twelve eggs, one pint of milk, one table- 
 spoonful cinnamon, one teaspoonful of cloves, one ditto nutmeg; mix the butter and 
 sugar, beat the yolks smooth and light, and add them. Next, add the milk, then 
 the flour, alternately with the beaten whites, then spices, lastly the fruit well 
 dredged with flour. Mix all thoroughly, wring your pudding cloth out of hot 
 water, flour well inside, put in the pudding and boil five hours. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 547 
 
 Dorchester Pudding.— Half a pound of bread crumbs grated, half a pound of 
 tuet finally chopped, half a pound of sugar, two eggs, one pot of marmalade (orange). 
 To be boiled five hours in a mould. Sauce : Three ounces of butter and three 
 ounces of sugar to be beaten well together; beat all to a paste, and put it on the top 
 of the pudding just before it goes to table. 
 
 Carrot Pudding. — Half pound each of grated carrots and sweet potatoes, half 
 pound chopped beef-suet, half -i pound each of raisins and currants seeded and 
 chopped fine, half pound stale bread crumbs, one-quarter of a pound sugar, teaspoon 
 salt, grated lemon peel and spice to taste. Boil in a mould or bag four hours. 
 Serve hot with rich sauce. This is a winter dessert, and a nice, inexpensive 
 pudding. 
 
 Snow Pudding. — Soak half a box of gelatine in a teacup of cold water, pour 
 on it one pint of boiling water; set in a cool place, but do not let it harden. Beat 
 the whites of three eggs, to which add three cups of sugar and the juice of two 
 lemons ; mix with gelatine and pour into moulds to harden ; serve with cream. 
 
 Rice. — Cut cold rice in slices, dip in beaten egg, fry brown, dress with sugar and 
 cinnamon. 
 
 Apple Jonathan. — Line the sides only of a pudding dish with some nice paste, 
 and fill it full of juicy, tender apples, peeled and sliced, with a little water to keep 
 them moist. Cover the top of the di.-.h with paste and bake until the apples are 
 soft, then remove the crust and mash the apples while hot, adding sugar, butter, 
 grated nutmeg and a little flavoring if desired. When cool, serve with rich cream, 
 sweetened, flavored and whipped to a stifiF froth, or the cream may be used without 
 whipping. Either way the dish is delicious, and peach Jonathan made in the same 
 manner is better still. Peaches will need no water if they are ripe and juicy. 
 
 Open Tarts. — The ingredients are ten ounces flour, five ounces butter, one and a 
 half gill cold water, half a teaspoonful yeast powder, a few teaspoonfuls of preserves 
 of any kind and a pinch of salt. 
 
 First, weigh out the butter and flour, and put them in a bowl, adding a pinch of 
 salt. Mix the butter and flour together lightly and put in the yeast powder. These 
 must be mixed well together, making a nice dough, with a gill and a half of cold 
 water. Use as little water as possible, the quantity of water to be determined by 
 the quality of the flour. A fine grade of flour absorbs the greatest quantity of water. 
 KoU out the dough and cut it into circular pieces with a cake cutter. The 
 remainder of the dough is rolled out again and smaller circular pieces cut out, and 
 with a part of dough that is still left make small narrow strips. There is still 
 sufficient dough to make a thin covering for a plate or flute dish. The dish should 
 first be v/et with cold water, and the dough lining pressed closely to the edges of 
 the dish. Then put in the centre the jam, and take the white of an egg and wet 
 the edges, after which lay on the narrow strips over the top. Now put on the 
 smaller pieces of dough and bake them in a quick oven for twenty-five minutes. — 
 Miss Dods. • 
 
 Raisin Pie. — Take one pound of raisins, turn over them one quart of boiling 
 water. Keep adding so there will be a quart when done. Grate the rind of one 
 lemon into a cup of sugar, three teaspoonfuls of flour and one egg; mix well 
 together ; turn the raisins over the mixture, stirring the while. This makes three 
 pies. Bake as other pies. ' 
 
 Lfmon Pie. — Grate the yellow rind of two lemons ; beat together the rind, juice, 
 
548 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 ten tablespoonfuls of loaf sugar, and the yolks of four eggs, until very light ; then 
 add two tablespoonfuls of water. Line a large plate and fill with the mixture ; bake 
 until the paste is done ; bent the whites stiff and stir into them two tablespoonfuls of 
 sug-ir, spread it over the top and bake a bright brown. 
 
 Apple P'udding. — One cup milk, one egg, one teaspoon cream tartar, one-half 
 ieas,>oon soda; flour to make a batter. Pour this over quartered apples and steair 
 tM'o hours. Sweet sauce. 
 
 Omelet. — Make a nice omelet, when one side is cooked spread with preserves 
 and fold down ; sprinkle with sugar. 
 
 Cheap Pudding. — Peel and core four or five apples, according to their size, cut 
 them in slices, and lay them in a pie-dish; sprinkle them with sugar (pounded), ant" 
 then put a thin layer of apricot or other jam. Take two ounces of arrowroot ; mix 
 it with a pint of milk, a little sugar and a small piece of butter ; stir it over the fire 
 until it boils, and then pour it into the pie-dish with the apples and jam, and bake 
 until done. 
 
 Cottage Baked Pudding. — Two eggs, two cupfuls of sugar, half a cupful of 
 butter, one teaspoonful of soda sifted in two cupfuls of flour, and three cupfuls of 
 buttermilk. Stir this last into the flour, etc., and mix lightly. Bake an hour- in a 
 pudding dish. 
 
 Flummery. — Lay sponge cake in a deep dish, pour on white wine to moisten it ; 
 cl>op some raisins fine and sprinkle over the cake ; then spread over it a layer of 
 jelly and turn over it a custard made with the yolks of eggs. Beat the reserved 
 whites to a froth and spread over the top. Put a dash of red suga. sand here and 
 there over it or tiny drops of jelly. Slices of orange, cut very thin, make a good 
 garnish for it. 
 
 Batter and Apples. — Pare and core six apples, and stew them for a short 
 time with a little sugar, make a batter in the usual way, beat in the apples and pout 
 the pudding into a buttered pie-dish. The pudding, when properly done, should rise 
 up quite light, with the apples on top. To be eaten at table with butter and moist 
 sugar. 
 
 German Puffs. — Three eggs, one pint milk, one large spoonful flour, a little 
 salt, one teaspoon butter ; leave out the whites of two of these eggs, and beat to a 
 stiff froth, with two heaping tablespoons sugar ; spread it over the top and brown it. 
 
 Creme — One pint milk boiled with flavoring, for five minutes, have mixed four 
 ounces sugar, four egg-yolks, pour on the boiling milk slowly. Strain into a pan 
 and set in a vessel of boiling water, cook until it shakes in the middle, flavor with 
 :hocolate, coffee, vanilla, lemon or fruit. Cool on ice if possible. 
 
 Apple Meringue. — Stew apples ; diy with butter, sugar and spice; put in a dish 
 when nearly cold and cover with a cake frosting. Bake three minutes; eat with 
 cream. 
 
 Parsnip Pie. — Take twelve parsnips, three onions and six potatoes already 
 boiled ; slice fine and add half a pound of butter, hjilf a pound of fat pork (cut 
 small and already cooked), season with pepper, mix with a little water and boil a 
 few minutes. Take up and bake slowly in a deep dish between two rich crusts. 
 An excellent pie for autumn and winter time. 
 
 Bread Pudding. — Butter a baking dish; sprinkle the bottom with raisins; 
 (■'Utter a few slices of bread; lay over the raisins (have enough slices to cover the 
 custani) : <me i^uart of milk and si)teggs; beat well together; add two-thirds cup 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 549 
 
 white sugar; pour over bread when done; turn on another dish cut in slices when 
 cold. 
 
 Bread Pudding. — Unfermented brown bread, two ounces; milk, half a pint; 
 one egg ; sugar, quarter of an ounce. Cut the bread into slices, and pour the milk 
 over it boiling hot ; let it stand till well soaked, and stir in the egg and sugar, well 
 beaten, with a little grated nutmeg, and bake or steam for one hour. 
 
 Crumb Pie. — Line a plate with nice paste. Rub together one-half cup flour, 
 three-quarters cup brown sugar, one large tablespoon butter until it grains. Fill the 
 pie and bake fifteen minutes. This is excellent. 
 
 Dessert Pudding. — One cupful of sour buttermilk ; two tablespeonfuls of frieil 
 meat drippings, or the same of melted butter; one scant teaspoonful of soda; a 
 pinch of salt; one cup and a half of flour; stir together into a batter. Have ready 
 two or three large apples; pare and slice them on a buttered tin and pour ihe 
 butter over them. Bake half an hour; serve warm, with sugar, and cream, or 
 vinegar sauce. 
 
 Dark Steamed Pudding. — To be steamed two and a half or three hours — one 
 cupful molasses, one cupful sweet milk, two cupfuls butter, four cupfuls flour, one 
 teaspoonful .soda, three-quarters cupful fruit ; spice to suit the tjiste ; to be eaten with 
 sour sauce. 
 
 Apple Custard. — Take half a dozen tart, mellow apples, pare and quarter them 
 and take out the cores ; put them in a pan with half a teacup of water ; set them on 
 a few coals; when they begin to grow soft turn them into a pudding-dish and sprinkle 
 sugar on them ; beat eight eggs with rolled brown sugar; mix them with tliree pints 
 of milk ; grate in half a nutmeg and turn the whole over the apples : bake the 
 custard between twenty and thirty minutes. 
 
 Extra Mince Pie. — Two pounds of lean beef, boiled, and when cold chopped 
 fine; one pound of beef-suet, chopped very fine; five pounds of apples, pared, cored 
 and chopped ; one pound of Sultana raisins, washed ; two pounds of raisins, seeded 
 and chopped; two pounds of currants, washed in several waters; three-quarters of a 
 pound of citron, cut fine ; two tablespoonfuls citron, one grated nutmeg, two table- 
 spoonfuls of mace, one of ground cloves, the same of allspice and salt, two and one- 
 half pounds of blown sugar, one quart of sweet cider: let it stand twenty-four hours 
 before making up in pies. If the mince-meat made after this recipe is kept in stone 
 jars, well covered up and in a cool place, it will keep all winter : if it becomes 
 dried out add more liquor. Another. — Four pounds raisins, two pounds currants, 
 two pounds citron, two pounds suet, two pounds beef, two pounds sugar, one and a 
 half pints vinegar, one quart cider, one ounce mace, one ounce cinnamon, one 
 nutmeg, one quart apples. 
 
 Perfect Pies. — Cut nice pie-paste into squares ; on each square pile one pinch 
 flour, cinnamon and sugar, a bit of butter and a teaspoon of molasses. Wet the 
 edges, fold over quickly, pinch closely, and bake for fifteen minutes. Very good. 
 
 SAUCES AND DRESSINGS. 
 
 Lobster Sauce. — Pound the spawn and two anchovies ; pour on them two spoon- 
 fuls of gravy; strain all into some melted butter; then put in the meat of the lob- 
 ster, cut up ; give it all one boil and add a squeeze of a lemon. 
 
 Cabbage Salad. — One egg, one teaspoonful of salt, one teaspoonful of sugar, a 
 half teaspoonful of mustard, a quarter teaspoonful of pepper, two-thirds of a cup of 
 
630 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 vinegar ; beat all together and boil in a bowl over the steam of a kettle till quitk 
 thick ; then turn the mixture over a small half head of cabbage chopped fine ; if to« 
 thick add cold vinegar. To be eaten when cold. 
 
 French Mustard. — Slice an onion in a bowl ; cover with good vinegar. Aftei 
 two days pour off the vinegar ; add to it a teaspoonful of cayenne pepper, a teaspoon^ 
 ful of salt, a lablespoonful of sugar and mustard enough to thicken; mix. Set oi 
 the stove and stir till it boils. "When cold it is fit for use. 
 
 Drawn Butter. — Melt one ounce of butter in a small saucepan, and then throw 
 in the dry flour, which mixes instantly. Then add one gill of milk and stir until it 
 boils, then add one gill of cream. Let them boil two minutes so as to swell the 
 grains of flour; then add the yolks of two eggs chopped fine. 
 
 Sauce for Roast Beef. — Grate horseradish on a grater into a basin, add two 
 tablespoonfuls of cream, with a little mustard and salt, mix well together; add four 
 tablespoonfuls of the best vinegar, and mix the whole thoroughly. The vinegar and 
 cream are both to be cold. 
 
 Salad Dressing Without Oil. — Take the yolks of two hard-boiled eggs, and 
 rub them quite smooth in a mortar ; add a teaspoonful of mustard, a little cayenne 
 with black pepper and salt to taste, and four or five tablespoonfuls of cream ; lastly, 
 add a tablespoonful of vinegar, mix well, and it is ready. Of course it is much 
 better with olive oil, but there are yet people in the world who reject it. 
 
 Foaming Sauce. — Beat a cup of sugar with a quarter of a pound of butter until 
 it is light and creamy; add the well-beaten yolk of an egg, then the white cut to a 
 stiff froth and beat vigorously. Slir in a wine-glass of water and flavoring. Set the 
 bowl over the tea-kett'e until the mixture is the thickness of cream; on no account 
 allow it to boil or the sauce will be spoiled. 
 
 Dried Beef Gravy. — Shave very thinly one-half teacupful of beef, put over it 
 one quart of cold water; set on top of stove; let it simmer one or two hours; 
 thicken with one and one-half tablespoonfuls of flour mixed with cold water, and 
 butter size of walnut ; salt to taste. 
 
 Celery Salt. — Save the root of the celery plant, dry and grate it, mixing it with 
 one-third as much salt. Keep in a bottle well corked, and it is delicious for soups, 
 oysters, gravies or hashes. 
 
 Prune Whip. — Sweeten to taste, and stew three-fourths of a pound of prunes; 
 when perfectly cold add whites of four eggs beaten stiff; stir all this together till 
 light ; put in a dish and bake twenty minutes ; when cold serve in a larger dish and 
 cover with whipped cream. 
 
 SoYER Sauce. — One spoon mustard; one spoon olive oil; one-half cup catsup. 
 
 Favorite Sauce. — Rind of one lemon sliced very thin, juice of the lemon, one 
 spoon sugar, two spoons olive oil, two spoons mustard. 
 
 Mixed Sauce. — Three apples chopped fine, two onions, one seeded cucumber, 
 two green peppers, three tomatoes ; chop well, mix with salt, pepper, mustard and 
 vinegar, a little sugar. 
 
 Carrot Sauce. — Soak thin sliced carrots for two hours in cold water (ice water 
 is best); put in a pan with one pound of sugar and one cup of water; boil to a clear 
 syrup ; add juice of one lemon and boil for five minutes. 
 
 Plain Pudding Sauce. — Three tablespoons sugar, three tablespoons vinegar, one 
 spoon butter, one spoon flour; mix well, and pour over them three-fourths of a pinl 
 of boiling water, cook for five nJInutes. Sprinkle with nutmeg or cinnamon. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 551 
 
 Stewards' Sauce. — One pound butter beaten to a cream, one ounce chopped 
 parsley, two ounces chopped chives, the juice of one lemon ; mix and serve cold 
 ibr fish or meat. 
 
 Fish Sauce. — Boil two eggs hard ; pound the yolks smooth. Boil for five min- 
 utes a few sprigs of chives, parsley, thyme and summer savory; strain this water on 
 the mashed yolks and add one teaspoon each salt, sugar, mustard and black pepper, 
 ihen four tablespoons olive oil and two of vinegar. 
 
 Bread Sauce. — Crumb white bread fine, stew one-half cup crumbs in one pint 
 milk, add pepper, salt and nutmeg, also one spoon butter ; serve with roast game. 
 
 Butter Sauce. — One-half cup flour mixed into a smooth paste ; stir this into 
 half a pint of boiling water, add a little salt and stir steadily three minutes; remove 
 from the fire and add one tablespoon butter, juice of one lemon, one tablespoon 
 chopped parsley; keep it hot for five minutes on the back.of the stove, but on no 
 account let it boil. Use for mackerel. 
 
 For pudding sauces in winter nothing can be nicer than fruit-juice 
 
 sauce. When canning fruit in the summer, small quantities of juice 
 
 are frequently left over from filling the jars. Add to such juice a 
 
 little sugar, let it come to a boil and bottle it in any small .vials which 
 
 will just hold the quantity on hand j put in a clean cork, shave it 
 
 level with the bottle and cover it with sealing wax, or common wax 
 
 and a bit of cloth. Two or three dozen such bottles, holding from 
 
 an ounce to a pint of juice, are invaluable in the winter. To make 
 
 this sauce put your fruit juice, and a little water, oi none according 
 
 to quantity and strength of flavor, in a cup and let it come to a boil : 
 
 have mixed to a cream a spoonful of sugar and a spoonful of flour, 
 
 stir these in the boiling juice and boil until of the right consistency; 
 
 remove from the fire and add a spoonful of butter, stirring until it is 
 
 dissolved. This is a cheap, healthful and easily made sauce, while its 
 
 chief ingredient is one often thrown away, "because the fruit jars 
 
 are full." 
 
 IMPORTANT RECIPES. 
 
 Excellent Bread.— Bread is called the staff of life. If a table lacks good 
 bread it is a poor table, no matter how great the variety and excellence of the other 
 articles of food. Both hot bread and bread made quickly of soda in the form of 
 biscuits are unwholesome for common use. Invalids and children should never eat 
 fresh bread. Some families bake twice a week, some but once : if bread is baked 
 too frequently dyspepsia and biliousness are likely to prevail in the family. Every 
 mistress of a family should know how to make and bake good bread, and should 
 insist upon having only good bread on her table. The requisites for good bread- 
 fliaking are care, absolute cleanliness, good flour and good hop-yeast : these are 
 about equally requisite, and if any one be lacking the result is bad bread. A stone 
 
552 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 jar or wooden bowl is best for setting bread sponge; these should be used for 
 nothing else, and should be kept well scoured and sunned. Beat the sponge with a 
 wooden beater. Set the sponge over night. In winter set it about six o'clock in 
 the afternoon, and keep it warm near the stove over night. In summer set sponge 
 about nine or ten o'clock in the evening, and keep it in a cool place — not a cellar 
 or spring-house — so that it may rise without becoming sour. To set bread, put two 
 or three quarts of flour — according to your family — in a stone jar and pour boiling 
 water over it, beating it smoothly until it is an even, tolerably thick paste. When 
 this is lukewarm add to it one cup of hop-yeast and one tablespoon of salt. In the 
 morning this will foam like soapsuds ; pour this foaming sponge into a kneading 
 bowl or pan of flour, and, using enough flour to make a good smooth dough, work 
 it not less than twenty minutes, half an hour is better. When this has been kept 
 covered in a moderately warm place until light, you will find on tearing off a piece 
 of the top that it is full of cells, honeycombed. At once knead it into loaves, 
 using only flour enough lo work it; knead it at this time about ten minutes, or until 
 the gas in the dough stops cracking and pufling; put it in buttered pans, and let it 
 become light once more. Be careful that it does not stand too long and begin to 
 ferment. See that the oven is not so hot as to form a crust at first, for the bread 
 should continue to rise after entering the oven, and a speedy crust makes it tougli. 
 Increase the oven heat after twenty minutes. Let it bake from an hour to an hour 
 and a half, according to size of loaves. Have a nice even brown, sides, top and 
 bottom. 
 
 Hop-Yeast. — Boil a large handful of hops in u quart of water, keeping them 
 well covered. Have in a pan a pint of flour and three mashed Irish potatoes, pour 
 the boiling hop-water on these and stir smooth. When lukewarm add one cup of 
 yeast. Let it rise from six to twelve hours; then add a small handful of salt and 
 stir it down ; in three or four hours more put it in a closely covered, perfectly sweet 
 stone jar or jug, and keep in a cool, dry, dark place. 
 
 Coffee. — Never buy ground coffee. When about to make coffee take the brown 
 berries and heat them hot, then grind while hot; have your coffee-pot clean, empty, 
 dry, allow no cold coffee or old grounds. Put the dry coffee in the pot, and pour 
 over it as much boiling, hard boiling water as you want coffee. If you have a 
 French pot with a sieve in the middle, keep it securely fastened up, stand it where it 
 will be hot but not boil for ten minutes, and your coffee will be all right. But sup- 
 pose that you have no French pot ? Tie your ground coffee loosely in a bit of lace- 
 net, or tarlatane, or very thin Swiss mull, put it in the coffee-pot, pour on the boiling 
 water as before, put a tight cork in the spout, and see that the lid fits closely, put a 
 cloth in it if it does not, and let it stand back for ten minutes as before. The idea is 
 to keep all the aroma-charged steam in the coffee-pot, and have the subtle oil of the 
 berries in your coffee-pot, and not pervading all the house, wandering out of doors 
 and regaling the neighbors, while you are dolefully drinking brown warm water. 
 
 Tea. — Use a brown earthen tea-pot, and dare to bring it to the table. Put your 
 dry tea into this dry pot ; cover it and let it stand on the back of the stove till pot 
 and lea are hot : this releases the aromatic oil of the leaves. Now pour on the 
 boiling vfater, as much as you want tea ; cover it closely. In Scotland they use a 
 c'nse wadded bag called a cosey to cover the pot, and it is » valuable invention. 
 N'fver boil tea, black or green; heat the leaves, steep in boiling water, and keep 
 the steam in the pot and the tea will be excellent. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 553 
 
 Lemonade. — This is a very important drink during our hot summers. If freely 
 nsed in the spring there would be far less of biliousness and fevers of which to com- 
 plain. It is more wholesome when only moderately sweet. Roll the lemons, 
 divide in halves, and squeeze them into your lemonade pitcher. Then slice the 
 halves into the pitcher, strewing them as you drop them in with granulated sugar. 
 Let the lemons and sugar lie for an hour, this extracts the flavor ^of the rinds. A 
 bit of ice laid on top of lemons and sugar improves them. After an hour or so add 
 what water you want for lemonade, stir well for five minutes, and then it is ready 
 for drinking, all the oil and acid of the fruit being set free. 
 
 Fruit Cream. — Pound up one quart of fruit, raspberries or strawberries are 
 best, but any other will do. Strain through a sieve ; add three-fourths of a pound of 
 white sugar ; beat well. Put in a pint and a half of cream, and beat hard for 
 Efteen minutes ; when it is all a thick foam put it into goblets for dessert. 
 
 Brown Bread. — One quart brown flour, one quart Indian meal, one coffee-cup 
 of molasses, one heaping spoonful of soda in one quart of buttermilk, one egg, if 
 too thin add a little rye or wheat flour, bake in one big loaf three hours. 
 
 DISHES FOR INVALIDS. 
 
 Beef TEA.-.-Cut all the fat from a pound of fresh beef; then cut the lean meat 
 mto small dice-like pieces; add one pint of cold water to draw out the juices; boil 
 twenty or thirty minutes, skimming it carefully; then strain and salt to taste. 
 Another, better for the very sick, or for weak stomach : put the cut beef, prepared 
 as above, into a wide-mouthed bottle, cork it so no water can enter; place it in a 
 ket;tle of cold water; prop it so that it will stand firmly, and boil one hour; then 
 set the kettle aside to cool ; v\[hen cold you can safely remove the bottle^ and you 
 have the simple juice or essence of the beef. 
 
 Chicken Panada. — Skin the chicken and cut it up in joints. Take all the 
 meat off the bones, and cut up into small pieces ; put it in a jar with a little salt, tie 
 it down, and set it in a saucepan of boiling water. It should boil from four to six 
 hours ; then pass it through a sieve with a little of the broth. It could be made in 
 a hurry in two hours, but it is better when longer time is allowed. Do not put the 
 wings in the panada. 
 
 Soup for an Invalid. — Cut in small pieces one pound of beef or mutton, or a 
 part of both ; boil it gently in two quarts of water; take off the scum, and, when 
 reduced to a pint, strain it. Season with a little salt, and take a teacupful at a 
 time. 
 
 Egg Cream.— Beat a raw egg to a stiff froth ; add n tablespoonful- of white 
 sugar, and half a glass of home-made blackberry or black cherry wine; beat well, 
 add half a glass of cream ; beat thoroughly and use at once. This is a full meal for 
 an invalid, and is especially good where trouble of throat, mouth or stomach pre- 
 vents solid food being used. 
 
 Gruel.— Mix a tablespoonful of corn meal with a little cold water ; add a small 
 pinch of salt, and stir it smoothly into part of a pint of boiling water, and let it 
 boil ; being constantly stirred for six or eight minutes. If sugar is desired, put it in 
 with the cold meal and water, but add any flavor, as nutmeg or cinnamon, after 
 removing it from the stove. Gruel should be very smooth, and should not have the 
 faintest suspicion of a scorch about it. Always serve it neatly. 
 
 Rice Cream.— Grind rice to a very fine flour ; stir it with a little cold milk and a 
 
554 ^-^^-S COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 pinch of salt. Have a pint of milk boiling slowly, and stir in the rice smoothed in 
 cold milk ; add sugar and flavor to taste ; stir all tiie time until it is done ; turn it into 
 a vvliite dish. Now take the white of one egg and whip it to a froth; add pul- 
 verized sugar to make as for cake frosting ; spread it smoothly over your rice, and 
 set in the oven for three minutes. This is nice cold with cream, or warm served 
 with currant jelly. 
 
 Drinks for Invalids. — Mash any kind of fruit, currants, tamarinds, berries, 
 pour boiling water on them. In ten minutes strain it off, sweeten, cool; add a 
 little ice, if possible. Do not allow this drink to stand in the sick-chamber, keep it 
 in a cool, airy place. 
 
 Boiling water poured over browned flour, or browned wheat or corn, or evenly 
 toasted bread, and treated as above, is also a wholesome, agreeable drink for the 
 sick. Sage, balm, and sorrel mixed and put with half a sliced lemon, and treated 
 as above, is a valuable drink in fevers. 
 
 Cream of Tartar Drink. — Two spoonfuls cream of tartar, the grated rind of a 
 lemon, half a cup of loaf sugar, and one pint of boiling water, is a good summer 
 drink for invalids, and is cleansing to the blood. 
 
 Oatmeal Gruel is made as corn-meal gruel, but boiled longer. 
 
 Panada. — Sprinkle large soda crackers with white sugar and nutmeg ; then pour 
 on a little more boiling water than the crackers will absorb. This is a pleasant 
 dish if dressed with a frosting as the rice cream, or covered with strawberries and 
 sifted sugar. 
 
 Barley Gruel. — Boil the barley three or four hours in plenty of water, then 
 when the water is white and glutinous, strain it off and add a little loaf sugar, and 
 a very little salt. This is exceedingly nourishing, and is good for infants. 
 
 Among the articles to be recommended for invalids we have rice, 
 sago, tapioca, corn and oatmeal, stewed fruits, tomatoes, broiled 
 tender beef, rare; beef-tea, broth and soup of mutton or fowl ; choc- 
 olate, lemonade, gelatine, baked apples, brown bread, milk toast, 
 baked potatoes. 
 
 Invalids should have no fried, hard or greasy food, no pastry, no 
 rich cakes, no old-fashioned rich preserves. 
 
 Wheat Frumity.— Boil wheat to a jelly. To one quart wheat jelly add one 
 quart milk, three eggs ; sweeten and flavor to taste ; scald together, and use hot or 
 cold. 
 
 Raw Eggs. — Persons suffering from dyspepsia can often digest raw eggs when 
 the stomach is too weak to receive and retain anything else. They are always very 
 nourishing and strength-giving 
 
 Dried Flour for Infants. — Take one teacupful of flour, tie it up tightly in a 
 close muslin bag, and put it in a pot of cold water and boil three hours; then take 
 it out and dry the outside. When used, grate it. One tablespoonful is enough for 
 one teacupful of milk (which would be better with a little water) ; wet the flout 
 with a little cold water and stir into th« milk ; add a very little salt and boil five 
 rinutes. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 555 
 
 CANDY. 
 
 COCOANUT Candy.— Grate the meat of a cocoanut, and having ready two pounds 
 of finely sifted sugar (white) and the beaten whites of two eggs, also the milk of the 
 nut, mix altogether and make into little cakes. In a short time the candy will bo 
 dry enough to eat. 
 
 To Sugar or Crystallize Popcorn.— Put into an iron kettle one tablespoon fi.l 
 of butter, three tablespoonfuls of water and one teacupful of white sugar; boil um.l 
 (ready to candy, then throw in three quarts of corn, nicely popped; stir briskly uiui, 
 the candy is evenly distributed over the corn; set the kettle from the fire, and stir 
 until it has cooled a little, and you have each grain separate and crystallized wiih 
 the sugar ; care should be taken not to have too hot a fire lest you scorch the corn 
 when crystallized. Nuts of any kind prepared in this way are delicious. 
 
 A DELICIOUS Fruit Candy is made by adding chopped raisins and figs to a syrup 
 made by stewing two pounds of sugar with the juice of two lemons, or, if lemons 
 are not at hand, with a cupful of vinegar flavored with essence of lemon. Dried 
 cherries and any firm preserves may be used instead of raisins and figs. 
 
 Cocoanut Balls.— One-half cupful butter, one cupful sugar, one half cupful 
 sweet milk, two cupfuls flour, two teaspoonfuls baking powder, salt, three eggs, the 
 whites of two taken out for icing. Frosting: Whites of two eggs beaten to a 
 stiff' froth with egg-beater; then, a teaspoonful at a time, add twenty teaspoon- 
 fuls powdered sugar, stirring it in with a knife. Bake cake in jelly-cake tins; 
 spread each cake with icing, and sprinkle each evenly and thickly with desiccate;? 
 cocoanut. 
 
 Caramels. — With the advent of cold weather there are certain kinds of sweets 
 which are popular, among which are caramels. The following is an excellent and 
 reliable receipt : Three pounds of brown sugar, one-half pound Baker's chocolate, 
 one-half pound of butter, two tablespoons of molasses, same quantity of vinegar, 
 one cup of cream or milk. Boil twenty-five minutes; when off the fire add vanilla. 
 Beat ten minutes to granulate, or if crisp is preferred, do not lieat. 
 
 Barley Sugar. — Soak one quart barley five minutes in hot water ; drain ; stew 
 the barley in china with four quarts water, until very soft ; mash, strain, cool to a 
 jelly, add one cup sugar, one ounce butter ; stew ten or fifteen minutes and cool. 
 More sugar may be needed. 
 
 Butter Scotch. — Two large cups brown sugar, one-half cup butter, one-half cup 
 water; cook until it snaps or strings as poured from' the spoon; pour thin upon but- 
 tered plates, and when nearly cold score it in squares. 
 
 Molasses Candy. — Boil the molasses slowly, stirring all the time ; when nearly 
 done add one teaspoon butter, one spoon brown sugar, one pinch soda. Try it by 
 dropping in water. 
 
 Pea-nut Candy. — Shell the pea-nuts and rub oflF the brown skins ; almost fill a 
 pan or plate with them ; pour on the molasses candy made as above, or sugar candy 
 as in the following recipe. 
 
 Sugar Candy. — Three cups dark-brown sugar, a little gum arabic or white of 
 egg ; stir in one-half cup of cold water, boil slowly, stirring constantly, skim the 
 dark foam oflF. Test it by a few drops thrown into a cup of cold water; when nearly 
 done, add a pinch of soda, and a teaspoon of butter. Beet sugar will not mak< 
 good candy. 
 
556 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Chocolate Candy. — Make as for butter scotch, using only one large teaspoon 
 of butter, and a cup of grated chocolate, or one chocolate cake broken into bits. 
 
 Candied Fruits. — Make as for sugar candy ; when almost done drop in figs, 
 sections of oranges or lemons, stoned prunes or dates, or wedges of citron ; dip out 
 separately in Ave minutes, taking up syrup with each, lay on a buttered dish. 
 
 GENERAL RECIPES FOR CLEANING. 
 
 Ants of all kinds, also roaches, can be expelled by using powdered borax. If 
 30ot gets on a carpet, sprinkle salt on it, and with a dustpan and stiff brush you can 
 remove all the soot; repeat, if necessary, three times. 
 
 For Cleaning Carpets. — To one gallon of water add two tablespoonfuls of 
 spirits of hartshorn. Wring out clean flannel cloths in this mixture, and rub the 
 carpet with the damp cloth. See that the cloth is not too wet, and dry the carpet 
 with a dry cloth. 
 
 To Clean a Nursery Carpet. — Have a pail of very warm water ; throw in a 
 tablespoonful of powdered borax ; then, with a clean scrubbing brush and very little 
 if any soap, scrub well the soiled places ; rinse with clean hot water, and rub very 
 dry with a clean, soft cloth. If possible, open the windows to dry quickly. 
 
 To Cleanse Glass Globes. — If the globes on gas fixtures are much stained on 
 (he outside by smoke, soak them in tolerably hot water in which a little washing 
 soda has been dissolved. Then put a teaspoonful of powdered ammonia in a pan 
 of lukewarm water, and with a hard brush scrub the globes until the smoke stains 
 disappear. Rinse in clean cold water. They will be as white as if new. 
 
 Washing Tidies. — I will tell you how to wash your tidies worked with worsted 
 and white Java canvas. Wash in cold water. Cistern water is preferable. Make 
 a little suds with hard soap, rinse thoroughly, and blue. Never put worsted in 
 warm water. 
 
 If those interested in blacking stoves will try greasing them with fresh grease before 
 blacking, they will find that it prevents them from rusting. Add a pinch of brown 
 sugar to blacking just before applying. This causes it to stick, and it polishes much 
 easier and with half the usual rubbing. 
 
 If a stove is well rubbed every day with a newspaper, the blacking will long 
 remain on. 
 
 New Kettles.— To remove the iron taste from new kettles, boil a handful of 
 fiay in them, and repeat the process, if necessary. Hay water is a great sweetener 
 of tin, wooden and iron ware. In Irish dairies everything used for milk is scalded 
 with hay water. 
 
 L.MBROIDERY. — Embroidery silks should be dipped in weak ammonia before 
 u^ing in order to set the color, and articles embroidered or knit in worsted should 
 never be washed in anything stronger than bran and water. A little ox gall mixed 
 ivitn the water will keep the colors from running, unless the work is rubbed or 
 wrung. 
 
 If Pictures .a.e hung by worsted cord, brush it often with the broom that is 
 kept for walls. Lambrequins, if of woollen fabric, ought to be brushed every few 
 Aays. 
 
 The Best Glove Cleaner. — Mix one-fourth ounce carbonate of ammonia, one- 
 fourth ounce fluid chloroform, one-fourth ounce sulphuric ether, one quart distilled 
 benzine. Pour out a small quantity in a saucer, put on gloves and wash as it 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 557 
 
 washing the hands, changing solution until gloves are clean ; take ofl, squeeze them, 
 replace on hands and with a clean cloth rub fingers, etc., until they are dry and per- 
 fectly fitted to the hand. This is also an excellent clothes, ribbon and silk cleaner ; 
 is perfectly harmless to the most delicate tints. Apply with a soft sponge, rubbing 
 gently until spots disappear. Care must be taken not to use it near fire, as the ben- 
 zine is very inflammable. 
 
 To Wash Silk. — Silk will wash as follows: Mix quarter of a pound of honey, 
 quarter of a pound of soft soap and a gill of gin ; lay each breadth of silk on wooden 
 table, scrub it well with a brush and this mixture, then dip it successively in two 
 pails of soft water; do not wring it, but hang it thus to dry, and iron between paper 
 when sufficiently dry. 
 
 To Clean White Fur. — Take a clean piece of flannel, and with some heated 
 bran nib the fur well, when it will be quite renewed. The bran should be heated 
 in a moderate oven, for a hot oven will scorch the bran and will brown the fur. 
 Oatmeal is preferable to bran, if procurable with no husks. Dried flour will also 
 answer the purpose. 
 
 To Wash Hair Brushes. — It is best to clean two at a time, in this way: First 
 comb them well, to remove the loose hair or dust ; then dip the bristles only in very 
 warm water, sprinkle each brush with plenty of powdered borax and rub the two 
 together ; after they are thoroughly cleansed have a pitcher af hot v^ater and pour it 
 over the bristles. Keep the back of the brush as dry as possible. Shake the 
 water well out and dry quickly in the sun. Brushes washed in this way will retain 
 their stiffness. 
 
 Combs and Brushes should be kept well cleaned. A very easy method is to 
 scour them in strong warnv ammonia water, shake well, and dry in the sun in the 
 open air. 
 
 Dish Washing. — I am truly sorry for those young housekeepers who hate to was> 
 greasy dishes. A few directions which I will give, simple as they seem, will, if fol- 
 lowed, help to lessen the disagreeableness of this dreaded duty. I would fill the 
 dish pan half full, or nearly so, with water as hot as you can bear the hands in. 
 Take enough soap to make a slight suds; put in the dishes, having a clean disb 
 cloth. Wash them and turn them into a pan, and pour hot water over them ; then 
 turn them into another pan to drain ; take another clean dish towel to wipe them 
 with, and they will wipe so quickly and easily you will be surprised. If you wil) 
 put water into the pots and kettles as soon as emptied, they will be soaked so that 
 they will wash easily by the time you are ready for them. 
 
 Smoke stained Walls. — Wash the walls with a common whitewash brush, 
 dipped in a solution of ten cents' worth of pulverized white vitriol dissolved in two 
 quarts of cold water. It may take more than that to wash over thoroughly the 
 smoke-stained walls ; but that is the right proportion (ten cents' worth of white 
 vitriol to two quarts of cold water). Let it dry over night, and the next day put on 
 a whitewash made as follows : Put a twenty-cent package of white rock lime into 
 a pail, then fill the pail with hot water. Cover up closely, and let it steam until the 
 lime is entirely dissolved, stirring occasionally. When dissolved add to the wash 
 five cents' worth of painter's blue. Stir all thoroughly together, and apply with a 
 common whitewash brush. It will not rub off, and is as clear and white as the 
 finest kalsomining. One twenty-cent package of white rock lime will make wash 
 enough to whiten three rooms 14 by 10.— Mrs. H. W. Beecher. 
 36 
 
558 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 To Clean Black Cloth or Silk. — Sponge with warm water, or coffee with 
 ammonia in it ; press on the wrong side. If the silk is thin, add a little sugar to 
 the cleaning water. 
 
 To Remove Grease Spots. — S^iturate with ammonia and press with a hot iron 
 over brown paper. 
 
 One ounce of borax, dissolved in a pint of boiling water, is also excellent for 
 removing grease spots. 
 
 Borax Water, as above, with the addition of a few drops of oil of myrrh, or 
 spirits of camphor, is far better for the teeth than any bought dentitrice ; it keeps 
 them clean and sound. 
 
 Remove white spots from furniture by rubbing with camphene. Scratches can 
 be taken from varnish by rubbing with kerosene. A bruise will yield to a hot iron 
 pressed over wet flannel. Unvarnished furniture can be polished with beeswax and 
 turpentfne. Clean glass with ammonia. Clean wall-paper with stale bread. The 
 most obdurate stains in white goods, as ink or fish-blood, can be removed by soak- 
 ing the article in sour milk for several days, rubbing well each morning and chang- 
 ing the milk ; keep it in the sun meanwhile. Salt and lemon rubbed on rust stains 
 will generally remove them ; half an ounce of oxalic acid in a pint of soft water, 
 kept well corked, is a good mixture for removing rust stains. It is very poisonous, 
 and should be well washed from the goods. This preparation is dangerous to keep 
 where there are servants or children, for fear of accidents. 
 
 Tar, pitch and turpentine can be removed by soaking in sweet oil, or melted 
 tallow, or lard. Paint can be removed by rubbing with spirits of turpentine. 
 
 Ink of any color can be entirely removed from the most delicate rug or carpet, 
 by the following process : sop the ink up gently with a soft cloth — donU rub it in. 
 Then, if in winter, heap snow on the place, and as fast as it blackens — don't let it 
 mell — brush it up and put on fresh snow. It will extract the ink. In summer, 
 instead of the snow, use ice. Lay a lump on the inked place, turn it, renew it, do 
 not let it melt and run into the carpet. • 
 
 Ribbons and Silk can be cleaned by sponging with lukewarm suds, rubbing both 
 :ides, and dry by winding very tight around a bottle. 
 
 White Clothes which have yellowed from lying should be wrung out of suds 
 find laid on the grass in the sun for several days. When washing, hang up all the 
 clothes wrong side out, the white ones in broad sunshine, the colored ones always 
 in the shade. Blankets are better dried on a windy, cloudy day. Calicoes should 
 be washed in a thin perfectly clean suds — not in the suds after white clothes ; rub no 
 soap on them, but rinse in one clear water and one bluing water. 
 
 When any kind of cotton or linen clothing is laid away for a few months, it 
 should neither be blued, starched nor ironed, but well washed and rinsed through 
 two clear waters and put away rough-dry and neatly folded ; this preserves the color 
 .and fibre of the goods so that they last much longer. 
 
 House Insects, etc. — No insect which usually infests the house and crawls 
 over the floors or wood work can live under the application of hot alum water. It 
 .will destroy red and black ants, cockroaches, spiders and chinchbugs. Take two 
 pounds of alum and dissolve it in three or four quarts of boiling water. Let it 
 -stand on the fire until the alum is all melted, then apply it with a brush (while 
 learly boiling hot) to every joint and crevice in your closets, bedsteads, pantry 
 shelves, etc. If, in whitewashing a ceiling, plenty of alum is added to the while- 
 .wash, it will keep off insects. — American Garden. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 559 
 
 Powdered Alum rubbed lightly upon the flesh, and then brushed off, will re- 
 move all that unpleasant odor of perspiration so troublesome to many persons. 
 
 To Restore Faded Writing.— When writing has faded, if the paper is moist- 
 ened with water and then brushed over with a solution of sulph.-hydric-ammonia, it 
 will be restored. This article can be obtained of any druggist. 
 
 Indigo. — Here is a good recipe for indigo : Two ounces oxalic acid, one ounce 
 Prussian blue pulverized, and add one quart of soft water; mix well and bottle 
 for use. 
 
 Coal Ashes. — The best purpose to which coal ashes can be applied, in town or 
 country, is in making garden-walks. If well laid down, no weeds or grass will 
 grow, and by use they become as solid and more durable than bricks. 
 
 Chamomile. — A decoction of the leaves of common chamomile will destroy 
 every species of insect, and nothing contributes so much to the health of a garden 
 as a number of chamomile plants dispersed through it. No green-house or hot- 
 house should ever be without it, in a green or dried state ; either the stalks or flowers 
 will answer. It is a singular fact that if a plant is drooping and apparently dying, 
 in nine cases out of ten it will recover if you plant chamomile near it. 
 
 Economy. — A prudent and economical housewife will make a soup of bits of 
 cold meat and the broken bones of a fowl, flavored with an onion, a cairot, and a 
 bit of parsley, that will prove more savory than a soup of thrice the cost made by a 
 careless hand. From the toughest parts of a fat and well-flavored piece of beef or 
 mutton, she will compound stews and potted dishes that will make the eater forget 
 there are choicer bits to be had on any terms. 
 
 Cement for Glass. — Cement for glass to be used without heating the glass : 
 Boil isinglass in water to a creamy consistency, and add a little alcohol. Cement to 
 be warmed before using. 
 
 To Make Mats for the Table. — Take small sticks of black walnut and 
 pine; plane them down to one sixteenth of an inch in thickness and one-half inch 
 in width. Place them alternately and glue to a piece of heavy cloth. They can be 
 cut round, square, diamond-shaped or any other pretty way, and, when varnished, 
 make quite a pretty ornamental mat. 
 
 To Make Tough Beef Tender. — To those who have worn down their teeth 
 masticating poor, old, tough cow-beef, we will say that carbonate of soda will be 
 found a remedy for the evil. Cut your steaks the day before using into slices about 
 two inches thick ; rub them over with a small quantity of soda, wash off next morn- 
 ing, cut into su'table thicknesses and cook to notion. Thrf same process will answer 
 for fowls, legs of mutton, etc. Try it, all who love delicious, tender dishes of meat. 
 
 Lime Water and its Uses. — Place a piece of unslacked lime (size is imma- 
 terial, as the water will only take up a certain quantity) in a perfectly clean bottle 
 and fill with cold water; keep corked in a cellar or in a cool, dark place. It is 
 ready for use in a few minutes, and the clear lime-water may be used whenever it is 
 needed. When the water is poured off, add more ; this may be done three or four 
 times, after which some new lime must be used, as at first. A teaspoonful in a cup 
 of milk is a remedy for children's summer complaint; also for acidity of the 
 stomach. When added to milk it has no unpleasant taste, and when put into milk 
 that would otherwise curdle when heated, it prevents curdling, so that it can be 
 used for puddings and pies. A small quantity of it will prevent the "turning" of 
 cream and milk. It also sweetens and purifies bottles which have contained milk. 
 Some add a cupful to a sponge of bread to prevent it from souring. 
 
560 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Household Conveniences. — "A place for everything, and everything in its 
 place,'' is ratlier a hackneyed baying; but, after all, it perfectly describes the domain 
 of a good housekeeper. As much attention should be given to the kitchen as to 
 any other part of the house ; a busy housevi'ife spends a large amount of time in 
 that room, and she should strive to render it a pleasure, and not a dread, to enter it. 
 A great convenience in a kitchen is a roomy wall-pocket. It may be made very 
 nicely of common brown card-board, bound with scarlet braid, having three 
 pockets — a large one at the bottom and two smaller ones above. In the larger one 
 may be put dusters, towels, etc. ; in the others string, rag for cuts, and other small 
 articles. Another convenience is a bag for dirty towels and dusters, which may 
 hang in a closet in the kitchen. It saves much time and labor on a washing day. 
 Always have a match-safe and scraper in the kitclien. It saves much disfigurement 
 of the walls. Get your tinman to make you tin-boxes, with tight-fitting-lids, to 
 hold yeast-cakes, tea, coffee, and spices. They preserve the flavor. A large apron, 
 made of oil-cloth and bound with braid, is useful when washing clothes or dishes. 
 Squares of zinc or tin are useful in the kitchen for standing saucepans on. If you 
 are without ice in the summer, keep drinking water in unglazed earthenware jars 
 or pitchers. The evaporation and condensation on the outside of the jar will keep 
 its contents cold. 
 
 To Preserve Meat. — Boil together one quart good vinegar, two ounces of salt, 
 two ounces of sugar ; when cold wash the meat over with this mixture. 
 
 Oatmeal in the Household. — In Great Britain children of all ranks au 
 raised on an oatmeal diet alone, because it causes them to grow strong and healthful, 
 and no better food can possibly be found for them. It is also quite as desirable for 
 the student as the laborer, and for the delicate lady as for the hard-working 
 sister; indeed, all classes would be greatly benefited by its use, and dyspepsia, with 
 all its manifold annoyances, can be kept at a safe distance. Oatmeal is most sub- 
 stantial food; it is equal to beef or mutton, giving as much or more mental vigor, 
 while its great desideratum consists of one's not becoming weary of it, for it is ns 
 welcome for breakfast or tea as is wheat or Graham bread. It can be eaten with 
 syrup and butter, as hasty pudding, as with cream and sugar, like rice. It is 
 especially good for young mothers upon whose nervous forces too great a demand 
 has been made, when they lose the equilibrium of the system and become depressfcd 
 and dispirited. Oatmeal requires to be cooked slowly, and the water should b* 
 boiling hot when it is stirred in. 
 
 To Preserve Dead Game. — Take out the intestines, fill the inside witlt 
 unground wheat, and place the fowl in a heap or cask of the same grain in such a 
 manner as to insure its being covered. In this way fowls may be kept perfectly 
 sweet for months. The feathers should be removed. Or, fill the cavity with char- 
 coal and a little salt ; rub the exterior with salt, pin up in a linen towel and hang 
 in a dark, airy place. Wipe it dry before filling it. Any kind of meat will keep 
 longer in hot weather, if it is put in an earthen jar, sprinkled with charcoal, and 
 covered with netting to admit air and keep out flies. 
 
 An ordinary flour or apple barrel will smoke four or five moderate-sized hams o< 
 shoulders. Both heads are removed and a movable cover provided for the top. 
 This may be of boards, or an old oil-cloth or tight blanket will answer. A short 
 trench is dug in which is laid a length of old stovepipe. A larger excavation is then 
 made, in which a pan of burning cobs or chips can be placed. This is covered by a 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 561 
 
 t^htly fitting plank. One end of the stovepipe communicates with this excavation ; 
 over the other end the barrel is piaced, the earth banked up around the bottom of 
 the barrel, and over the stovepipe to keep all tight. The meat may be suspended 
 from a stick laid across the top of the barrel, and then all covered tight with an oil- 
 cloth or blanket. On placing a pan of smoking cobs or chips in the place provided, 
 the smoke passes through the stovepipe into the barrel, filling it with a dense, cool 
 smoke. Should the support of the hams, etc., break, the latter cannot be hurt by 
 coming in contact with the fire or ashes, as sometimes happens in the regular smoke- 
 house. 
 
 FOR HOUSE PLANTS. 
 
 The Calla Lily blooms at three years. Take an ordinary earthen jar, without 
 a hole in the bottom, put the lily in and fill the jar three-quarters full of rich earth ; 
 fill with warm water in which you have put a few drops of ammonia; keep it in a 
 warm room ; give as much light and sun as possible and plenty of water. 
 
 Slugs on Begonias. — Slugs are occasionally seen eating large holes or notche^ 
 Ih the leaves of all succulents and begonias. They usually feed during the night. 
 Cut potatoes, turnips or some other fleshy vegetable in halves, and place conven- 
 iently near the plants. The slugs will gather upon the vegetable, and are easily 
 destroyed. 
 
 Plant LiCE.^Take three and a half ounces of quassia chips, add five drachms 
 stavesacre seeds, in powder ; place in seven pints of water, and boil down to five 
 pints. When cold the strained liquid is ready for use, either by means of a 
 watering pot or syringe. 
 
 White Worms. — The white worms which infest occasionally all soils where 
 plants are kept in pots may be removed as follows : Sprinkle lime water over the 
 soil, or sprinkle a little slacked lime on the earth and in the saucer of the pot.. 
 Lime water may be easily made by slacking a large piece of lime in a pail of cold 
 water, letting this settle, and then bottling the clear water for use. Give each pot a 
 tablespoonful twice a week. 
 
 Oleander Bugs. — To destroy the little bugs on the oleander, take a piece of 
 lime the size of a hen's egg, and dissolve it in about two quarts of water. Wash 
 the stock and branches of the tree with this water. 
 
 When plants become weakly cut off the heads and bury the pot in earth exposed 
 only to morning sun. They will soon send out a new top. 
 
 House Plants should be repotted every year. Loosen the earth at the pot sides 
 with a knife, turn upside down and shake out, cut away all matted fibres, shake off 
 all the loose earth, take a ntew pot, set the plant in, settle fresh earth about it, soak 
 well, heap on fresh soil, and keep in the shade for two or three days. 
 
 Soil for Pot Plants. — One-quarter common soil, one-quarter well-rotted 
 manure, one-half chips or rich woods earth; mix and sift through a coarse wire- 
 sieve. If the common soil is clayey, use one-eighth sand and one-eighth soil. 
 
 HOME AMUSEMENTS. 
 Do not begrudge the family innocent amusements. Life brings 
 abundant sorrows and regrets ; let the Home be as nearly like Para- 
 dise as possible — a blessed oasis in memory. For small children, toys, 
 
§62 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 simple ones, or home-made, or those which they are helped to makfi 
 for themselves, are the very best. Let boys have some kind of a work- 
 shop, and give girls a work-basket, round-end scissors and a plenty 
 of material fo^ inventions or experiments. Let them have musipal 
 instruments, if possible, if there is musical taste; pencils, patterns, 
 drawing-paper and paints, if they like art. Give them a boat, if you 
 can, if they are by a pond or creek ; let them go fishing and pic- 
 nicing, when it is suitable. Croquet, ball and out-of-door games, 
 with a pole and bar for gymnastics, add much to the likelihood of 
 keeping active children peaceably at home. Puzzles, dissected maps, 
 checkers, chess, dominoes, the game of authors, fox and geese and 
 jackstraws all help, with useful and pleasant books, to pass evenings, 
 holidays and rainy days cheerfully; while they do their part in 
 developing self-sacrifice, courtesy, ingenuity and quickness of thought. 
 
 Let the children have an occasional "candy-pull," a time of nut- 
 cracking, corn-popping and apple-roasting : life will move more 
 smoothly for the whole family by the help of such occasions of mirth 
 and social pleasure. 
 
 In winter, skates and sleds should not be denied : they are good 
 for both boys and girls. Sleds can be of home manufacture if money 
 is scarce, and children will find means by self-denial and industry to 
 buy their own skates, if they are allowed reasonable, time to use them. 
 When a gun is permitted, a lad should not be allowed to keep it 
 J,oaded in the house, nor to clean it where the family are gathered, 
 nor to shoot indiscriminately at birds and harmless creatures; he 
 should be taught carefulness, humanity and explicit obedience in the 
 use of his gun. Encourage all children to pursue gardening. Lead 
 them on pleasantly in it, as says H. Ward Beecher, thus : 
 
 " If a boy should set out to raise flowers it is desirable that he should have flowers 
 that are easy to raise, and are profuse in their blossom. A boy that can bury a 
 chipmunk after he is dead can plant a gladiolus, and after they are once planted 
 there is nothing to be done but to keep the bed weeded ; and as soon as they blos- 
 som they are so gorgeous that the boy is sure to be very proud of them. You can 
 get them for a few cents apiece, and so can furnish, for a dollar or two, a bed of 
 glaJiolas that will blossom more than two months, and be pre-eminently gorgeous. 
 Then give him a little instruction, and let him try something else : a row of poppies, 
 perhaps — ttey sow themselves. Get the French poppy, which is single, but runs 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 563 
 
 through the most exquisite range of color — all combinations that you can imagme. 
 Also the perennial poppy, which soon become established roots, and, in their time, 
 they are so gorgeous that every one who comes near them has to put on smoked 
 glasses, as it were! They fill a child's eye. They are for him a magnificent suc- 
 cess. Every one admires them ; and this admiration excites his ambition. The 
 boy, who goes through that one summer, and finds every one spontaneously praising 
 what he has done, has generally got the horticultural fever ; and when he has once 
 caught it he never recovers \ " 
 
 HINTS ON SEWING AND MENDING. 
 Every woman, rich or poor, should know how to use a needle 
 neatly and swiftly. In these machine days many girls think they can 
 sew, because they can run over seams made ready by other people, 
 while they are themselves ignorant of how to make a button-hole, to 
 cut, fit, baste or finish an article. Seamstresses frequently injure 
 their popularity by an ignorance of all that cannot be done by a 
 machine. The needle has always been woman's legitimate weapon 
 and ally. By it she has brought forth out of her treasures things' new 
 and old ; she has warded off poverty from herself and family ; has 
 created much out of little ; has for a lifetime rendered herself respect- 
 ably independent. True, there have been many pitiful repetitions 
 of the '■' Song of the Shirt," but there is a brighter side to the needle- 
 woman question. What an autocrat was the elderly maiden who 
 went from house to house in our childhood, the tailoress or dress- 
 maker of the whole neighborhood, highest authority on both news 
 and fashions ! 
 
 Darning is an important part of sewing. Table-linen, napkins, 
 towels, sheets, pillow-cases, handkerchiefs, laces, and small fractures 
 in clothing should be neatly darned: this kind of mending looks well, 
 and lasts long. 
 
 Patching is another important art. A patch should run the way 
 of the cloth mended ; it should be set evenly without a drawing. 
 When it is on white muslin, have the patch of a thinner quality than 
 the original material, or it may tear out. Each week all clothing 
 from the wash should be carefully examined and repaired; a rent 
 should be mended at once, before the edges stretch or ravel. Every 
 spring the house-wife should examine .her whole stock of household 
 linen, napery and bedding. Bed-quilts, which have rents, or arc 
 
564 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 frayed at the edges, should be mended and re-bound; blankets, 
 where broken, should be darned, and the edges bound or hemmed. 
 Sheets with small breaks can be darned ; a patch sometimes avails for 
 a long time ; a double sheet can be made to double its existence by 
 overhanding the selvedge edges together, tearing down the centre of 
 the sheet, and hemming it to become the outer edge. 
 
 A Worn-out Double Sheet will often cut over to advantage for a 
 single bed or crib, or its good portions will make a pillow-case for 
 servants' beds, and the worst portions make good hemmed cloths for 
 use in covering articles in pantry and store-closet, or, doubled and 
 run together, make good dusters. A small sheet descends also honor- 
 ably to these uses. 
 
 Worn-out Table-Cloths, which have prolonged their existence 
 by virtue of neat darns, can become common napkins, or make — the 
 edges being fringed — very soft towels for infants and invalids, and 
 fringed or hemmed are valuable for covering meats, cakes and pies in 
 the store-closet. 
 
 Old Towels, when darning them has ceased to be a virtue, can 
 be doubled and run together for dusters, or the best parts can be cut 
 out and made up double for wash-cloths for the toilette. 
 
 Old Woollen and Flannel Clothes have not only their 
 ordinary use as sewed into carpet-rags, but they can be cut in strips 
 and crocheted or braided into mats, or can be made into dusting, 
 floor and cleaning-cloths. 
 
 Worn-out Stockings can be neatly made over by cutting off the 
 heels and soles, taking as much length from the toe as you cut off at 
 the heel, and making new soles. One pair can be taken for making 
 soles to three or four other pair. 
 
 Flannels, worn out for winter use, can sometimes be reconstructed 
 for summer or night use by cutting out the necks, removing the 
 sleeves, binding them with bias muslin, and darning the thin places. 
 
 Dresses, which look very shabby and worn out, can be rejuve- 
 nated by ripping, brushing, sponging, pressing, adding new facing 
 and braid, putting on fresh buttons and some other trimming, and 
 re-working the button-holes. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 565 
 
 Shirts, given new neck and wristbands and possibly bosoms, will 
 bold out an extra year. 
 
 The buttons and strings should never be allowed to remain off 
 SHOES, as the shoes are thus ruined by twisting and treading down. 
 The clothes, as dresses, coats and skirts, of elder persons can be 
 usefully made over for younger ones. Old white or lawn dresses 
 will make up neatly into aprons, or serve to trim up toilette tables, 
 or make ruffled bed-room lambrequins. Indeed, people would, as a 
 general thing, be much better dressed and have their homes more 
 tastefully decorated, if they would use up material from half-worn 
 things which are now thrown away. 
 
 Gloves should be mended with silk of their own color as soon as 
 the least break appears. 
 
 Every girl and woman should know how to make shirts, under- 
 clothes, children's clothes, their own dresses and coats, and also how 
 to retrim a hat for at least common wear. Many ladies have far 
 better taste in bonnet-making than is possessed by the generality of 
 milliners, and are likely to make a hat that will become their own 
 faces, and have less of sameness than the productions of the milliner's 
 shop, besides saving in the construction fully half the price of the 
 article. A lady, who knows how to cut, fit and trim her dress, can 
 call in an ordinary seamstress, and, by her help on the machine, 
 make in a week several dresses for which her mantua-maker would 
 have charged her from five to fifteen dollars each. 
 
 If ladies were, content with a becoming, tasteful simplicity in 
 children's clothing, not only, by themselves making the garments by 
 this rule, would they save a large yearly 'sum from their expenses, 
 but they would save also in material, while the children would 
 be more comfortably and reasonably clothed in garments suitable 
 to their active and playful habits. In making children's clothes 
 always secure them with buttons, not with pins, and have the clothes 
 supported by the shoulders, not by the hips : this rule should be 
 regarded especially in girls' and women's clothes, where a pressure 
 •r weight at the waist is most dangerous. 
 
566 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 DRESS REFORM. 
 
 The subject of " Dress Reform " is hastily supposed by many to mean advocacy 
 of the largely unpopular " Bloomer Costume." It is, however, nothing of the 
 kind; it is merely the advocacy of four cardinal principles in dre-iS, and plain in- 
 struction how to carry these simple principles into facts of clothing. We might 
 call these four principles the fundamental axioms of dress. They are — 
 
 1. The cluthinij should be so arranged as to give all the body as nearly as pos 
 sible an equal temperature. 
 
 2. Clothing should be so constructed as not to impede a proper exercise of all the 
 muscles. 
 
 3. Clothing should be made as light as possible, that one need not go weighted 
 into the ordinary avocations of life. 
 
 4. Clothing should be supported, not merely by one set of muscles, and these a 
 set that, in the ordering of nature, have constant and arduous duties to perform, 
 but it should be so adjusted as to be upheld by the strong bony framework. 
 
 One has only 10 look at a skeleton attentively to see that the shoulders, reinforced 
 as they are by backbone and breastbone, by ribs and shouklei- lailts, were meant 
 to carry strongly and comfortably the burden of human dress. Now " Dress Re- 
 form" merely elucid.ites these four points, and explains how one's garments can be 
 warm, evenly dis'.iilmted, light, strong, and safe. 
 
 The old fashion of dress for women and children has been — passing by the 
 gauze or flannel undcrvtst, which it is to be hoped all wear — to put on fir.-.t a long, 
 full, cumlier^ume garment of cotton, gathered or tuclted into a yoke. This leaves 
 the arms and shoulders bare, and is in full folds about the waist, thus unevenly 
 heating the surface, and creating the greatest warmth about the waist, stomach, and 
 lower portion of the back. The excess uf heat in these parts impnirs di^^estion, 
 weakens the spine, and encourages nervous disorders. Above this cotton garment, 
 drawing it, as has been seen, closely about the waist and hips, the majoiity of de- 
 luded womankind wear a corset — two or three thicknesses more of heavy cotton 
 cloth — which not only is injurious, as creating too much heat where there is too 
 much already, but which impedes, by its tight fit, the motion of the muscles of the 
 diaphragm, restricls the proper filling of the lui'^s, incommodes the action of the 
 heart, and presses downward upon the bowels. This corset is by many supposed to 
 support the skirts ; but, as it is itself su|iported entirely by its close clasp of the 
 merely muscular portions of the body, and is in no wise dependent from the 
 boulders, it is no true support. The skirts usually worn are too numerous and 
 licavy, and their weight is thrown upon the hips. Dress reform proposes to do 
 a ,vay with these errors in dressing. The propositions of dress reform are — I. Let 
 t' e flannel shirt be high-necked and long-sleeved. 2. Do away with the folds, and 
 masses of cotton, and the corset, and in place of the two have a cotton cloth basque, 
 neatly fitted like an easy dress waist, with high neck and long or short sleeves, as 
 may be preferred. Let this strong basque have two rows of buttons, upon which to 
 button all the clothing of the lower portion of the body. 3. Let the hose come up 
 over the knee, and be upheld by an elastic strap, buttoned to the top of the hose 
 and to a side button on the basque. 4. Let the dress skirt, when not sewn to the 
 dress waist, have four buttons, and be held up by the shoulders by means of a pair 
 of "boy's suspenders." 5. Let the underskirts be of all woo! flannel, as that ma- 
 terial gives most warmth for least weight ; and the upper skirt of cotton, silk, wool, 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 567 
 
 or any fabric most desirable. 6. Let none of these garments press closely on any 
 part of the person, impeding free muscular action. 7. Let the shoes fit the foot, 
 have fairly thick soles, and a low heel set in proper place. 8. Many of those wear- 
 ing this reasonable style of dress, instead of multiplying skirts in Cold weather, as 
 skirts blowing in the wind are cumbersome to walk in, use the same skirts as in 
 summer, but add to the clothing an extra pair of drawers, made of flannel, lined, 
 and buttoned to the cotton basque. Others put over the cotton undersuit, made as 
 above, a similarly cut suit of red opera flannel or cashmere. This style of dress is 
 much more comfortable and healthful than the long prevailing older fashion ; it is 
 cheaper, more easily made, is more simple to laundry, and far more likely than the 
 " corset-fashion " to secure an erei.t, supp'e, vigorous, graceful, well-carried figure. 
 A generation of women dressed in this manner would send hysteria, weak spines, 
 and most nervous troul)les to the " lost arts." 
 
 A BRIDAL TROUSSEAU. 
 
 Among the papers laid between the leaves of Aunt Sophronia's Scrap-Book was 
 a copy of a letter sent to Mary Smalley, a few months before her marriage. Mary 
 seems to have asked Aunt Sophronia to suggest to her the items of a suitable trous- 
 seau. The paper is thus prefaced : 
 
 " Every bridal outfit should be limited and arranged to accord with the bride's 
 means, the station which she expects to occupy in life, and the place where she is 
 to live. You write me that you cannot afford a large outlay, that you are to marry 
 a young farmer, and live in the country. Let me hint first a few plain rules. Do 
 not get so miich clothing that it will lie in your bureau for years, turning yellow and 
 getting out of fashion. Do not trim so delicately that the trimming will soon wear 
 out, nor so elaborately that it will be troublesome to get your clothing prbperly 
 laundried. For dresses, if you choose shades, and patterns, and materials, that are 
 not striking or " novelties," your clothing will have really much more " style," and, 
 also, will not nearly so soon become unusably out of fashion. For trimming white 
 goods tucks are always in correct taste, and do up nicely. You can now buy tucked 
 muslin of any kind for trimming. Lace is a frail trimming, and needs very nice 
 ironing ; puffs are very hard to iron ; ruffles are neat, durable, and not difficult. 
 Embroidery is pretty and in good taste, but wears out with painful promptitude. 
 Eight is a good number for all undergarments, if you seek a golden mean of neither 
 too much nor too little. If you like unbleached wear, three sets round might be of 
 that muslin. ■ For style of making you might have two suits quite simply made, one 
 quite richly, and five between these extremes. Have eight pair of assorted hose ; 
 one dozen handkerchiefs, four very nice, four common, and four medium. As you 
 are going to housekeeping, have one dozen of aprons of all styles, sewing aprons 
 with^wide pockets, baking aprons, large sweeping aprons, fancy aprons, white morn- 
 ing aprons: you can soon arrange your dozen. Have one pair of fine shoes, one 
 ' pair of slippers, and two pair of boots for house and walking. Do not forget gos- 
 samer cloak, overshoes, and umbrella. Of gloves at least six pair, light kid, dark 
 kid, silk, and the other three as you prefer. Have a best bonnet, a travelling hat, 
 a se'cond best, and something fit for running /u.. ^n the field or garden, or to see a 
 neighbor. Remember that a toilette has no more valuable accessories than collars, 
 cuffs, neck-ribbons, neckwear generally. Half the eff-ect of a toilette is in dressing 
 int neck. Have a warm, loose, double gown, of flannel or other woollen goods. 
 
568 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 fit to slip on quickly, if illness or any emergency in your household calls you up at 
 night; also have a pretty dressing gown, if you should be half ill or sitting up con- 
 valescent. Have two dressing sacks, one of chintz, trimmed with a plain edge, 
 one of flannel or canton flannel. Have two white and two gray oi scar'ct flannel 
 petticoats, four or five long white skirls; a dark long skirt for winter wear, a 
 stripped ditto for warmer weather, and a sateen or nankeen skirt for wearing while 
 at housework. Of dresses have one good black silk, one nice merino or cashmere, 
 one nicely made lawn or linen. Have two dark ginghams or calicoes for working 
 dresses, and something in medium color, of alpaca or other worsted goods, for 
 spring and fall. If you are married in a dark wine, brown, or blue silk, you will 
 then be pretty well furnished with dresses, and can add, as you are able, son.e 
 others for afternoons or an evening dress, to suit your tastes and the lime of year. 
 A good shawl is a valuable part of a wardrobe; and you will have other outsidd 
 wraps, as your purse, and the fashion, and season dictate. If I have made my list, 
 while not too large for convenience, too large for your means, reduce the sets of 
 underclothing and hose to six, leave out two pair of gloves, four handkerchiefs, one 
 or two of the skirts, one hat, and one pair of boots, and have only one silk dress. 
 If you must study economy in your dresses, do not get plaid, checked, striped, or 
 brocaded goods — they soon are out of style." 
 
 This paper seems to' have been sent to Hester, in answer to a similar request, and 
 has these remarks : 
 
 "As your means are not limited, and as the laundry work will not be a particular 
 item ill your calculations, you should have your undersuits all of fine white, trimmed 
 with edgings, tucks, and ruffles, and make the number a dozen of each kind. Of 
 gloves, one dozen; of hose, two dozen; of handkerchiefs, two dozen; of assorted 
 boots and shoes, six pair. You will want a handsome evening hat, a wrap suitable 
 for concerts and lectures. You are to live in the city ; you need two handsome 
 walking suits, at least two evening dresses ; you can exercise your taste more freely 
 in getting dre^s goods that are ihe prevailing fashion, for as you go out more and 
 have more company than if you were in the country, you will use up your gowns 
 before they are outri. You need a rich and simple travelling costume ; one or two 
 waists of velvet or salin to vary your toilettes. You need several lace articles for 
 neck and shoulilers, according lo the fashion, and two or three fans. It is not your 
 disposition to be extravagant, and culture has taught you to be tasteful, so you may 
 safely guide yourself without suggestion in the matter of the make, number, and 
 material of your dresses." 
 
 AN INFANT'S WARDROBE. 
 
 Another paper laid in Aunt Sophronia's Scrap-Book is a copy of a list sent either 
 to Helen or Miriam, who asked advice as to the garments to be made ready for a 
 babe. The paper begins : 
 
 In preparing this clothing have regard to certain important principles: I. Do 
 not get more clothing than you need. You wear yourself out in providing superfluities, 
 and that at a period when you need rest. 2. Do not have the clothes heavy and 
 cumbersome, either from too great length, unduly thick material, or excess in trim- 
 ming; free pby nl' the muscles will do your child more good than yards of muslin, 
 lace, and embroidery on its skirts. 3, Have as few pins about these clothes as pos- 
 sible. 4. Make no arrangements for leaving your babe's neck and arms bare; it is 
 often a fatal error. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 5g9 
 
 The following is a list of needed articles. The number can be reduced if ex- 
 treme economy must be used. It can also be increased conveniently, for the list is 
 not on a large scale. Some of the last articles can be omitted entirely, or made 
 only when the child is a few weeks old. 
 
 LIST. 
 
 Four bands of fine flannel, eight inches wide, twenty-four long, the edges turned 
 down and tent-stitched. 
 
 Six shirts of fine linen, the neck and sleeves may be finished in a narrow lace, 
 have nothing to irritate the skin. 
 
 Three flannel shirts, twenty-seven or thirty ^nches long, for night wear, open in 
 , front, hemmed in tent-stitch or coral-stitch of silk or wool. 
 
 Six night dresses, high neck and long sleeves, thirty-two inches from neck to 
 hem ; some make these of thin flannel, others of fine shirting muslin. 
 
 Four wrappers of spotted chintz, or of white canton flannel. 
 
 Four sacks of fine opera flannel, or of crochet work in delicate colors, for day 
 wear. 
 
 Two night blankets, one yard square, of flannel, hemmed in tent or coral-stitch. 
 
 Two blankets for day use, of fine flannel, emliroidered, or otherwise trimmed to 
 t.iste. 
 
 Four dozen of diapers ; diaper linen twenty-seven inches wide is best, but many 
 u^e canton flannel. 
 
 Six bibs, double, to tie or button about the neck. 
 
 Three or four fine flannel skirts twenty-seven inches long, for day wear. 
 
 Four white muslin skirts, thirty inches long. 
 
 [One flannel and one white skirt can be made each one yard long if preferred, 
 but one yard long is too cumbersome to be snfe for ordinary wear.] 
 
 Six white slips, trimmed to taste, one yard from neck to hem. 
 
 Mothers who need to economize washing, make these slips very prettily of small- 
 figured light print. The white petticoats for day wear are not indispensable, and 
 the ordinary day blanket can be in blue or pink. One handsome slip can be added, 
 longer than the others. Socks can be used or omitted according to taste. They 
 are safe to use, if they can be kept on without impeding circulation at the ankles. 
 
 One hood or cap for out-of-door wear. 
 
 One cloak. 
 
 One Baby Dressing-Basket.— 'Vms is a basket of wicker or pasteboard, lined and 
 trimmed to suit the taste;' it has a powder-box — which should never have anything 
 but pure pulverized corn starch in it — a brush and comb, six soft towels, two soft 
 wash cloths, or a very soft surgical sponge ; a pincushion, a china box for fine soap — 
 tnr soap, or brown Windsor, or old Castile will be the best; a small bottle of vas- 
 aline or of glycerine, prepared by a druggist, with rose-water and carbolic acid, for 
 use in chapped or aljraded places. This basket, if kept in order, is very convenient 
 for making the baby's toilette, and saves a daily gathering up and carrying about 
 of dressing articles. 
 
 It is a real unkindness to a baby to make it so fine that it cannot kick, and roll, 
 and be jolly in its own style, and grow, thereby. To put on the soft little stranger 
 corals, shoulder-clasps, knots of colored ribbon — with which it poisons itself by 
 sucking — may be good taste, but not especially good judgment. 
 
570 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 A FEW SIMPLE REMEDIES. . 
 
 Toothache may be speedily and delightfully ended by the application if a 
 small bit of cotton, saturated in a strong solution of ammonia, to the defective tooth. 
 
 For Faceache, or Swollen Face, administer six drops of ammonia ji a 
 tablespoonful of water; make a poultice of hops and flour, or meal, or simply of 
 boiled hops, and put it on the face, covering with flannel. A quiet, dark room and 
 a sleep will complete a cure. 
 
 For Acute Neitralgia of the Eye or Head, bathe the part in warm water 
 strongly impregnated with laudanum ; keep cloths wrung out from this mixture lying 
 covered with flannel on the painful place, and administer ammonia as above every 
 half hour, or one tablespoon of ammoniated valerian every four hours. 
 
 For Hysterics, or Hysteric Convulsions, rub the spine with a coarse 
 towel, put hot water to the feet, bind poultices of mustard and flour on the wrists 
 and ankles, and administer the ammoniated valerian as above. Remove all corsets 
 or compressing clothing. In these cases perfectly calm common-sense is needed 
 to control the patient ; the nurse should be firm and not too sympathetic. 
 
 For Croup, administer a teaspoonful of strong alum water; repeat the dose 
 every fifteen minutes until free vomiting occurs. Put the legs in hot water and 
 then wrap up in flannel ; place on the chest a poultice of corn meal sprinkled with 
 mustard. Beware of cold draughts. As the attack departs, administer a dose of 
 magnesia, rhubarb or of castor oil. Where children are liable to croup, alwayf 
 keep the alum water solution ready on the wash-stand. 
 
 For Severe Vomiting, after the stomach seems to have been relieved of any 
 irritating substance, put at the feet a bottle of hot water, and apply to the stomach 
 cloths wrung out of hot vinegar and mustard ; keep the patient in bed, with the 
 head comfortably elevated, apply a cloth wet in cold water to the forehead, and keep 
 a handkerchief wet in bay rum, cologne or champhor, near the face. Have the 
 air pure ; the room partially darkened. 
 
 Eruptions on the face in spring, or occasioned by heated blood, may be cured 
 by washing the face each night with a mild solution of epsom salts, letting it dry 
 on. Take one ounce cream tartar, one ounce epsom salts, mix in one pint cold 
 water, keep in a cold place, and take a dessertspoonful three times daily : this 
 cleanses the blood gradually, and purifies the complexion. 
 
 For Diphtheria. — Strip from a well-smoked uncooked ham a portion of the skin, 
 tearing it off so that the fat grains will adhere. Cut this to fit the throat, hollowing 
 it for the front, and allowing a portion to rise high up to each ear. Bind this on 
 the throat — the grgasy side next the flesh — and renew it every four hours. Admin- 
 ister twenty drops of muriated tincture of iron three times daily, reducing the dose 
 if the child is less than seven years old. Gargle the throat with flowers of sulphur 
 water, or blow flowers of sulphur gently into the throat through a quill, or burn a 
 minute portion of sulphur on a shovel and let the patient inhale the fumes. Repeat 
 the sulphur treatment three times daily. Keep the patient in bed ; the feet warm ; the 
 head cool; the xoorawell aired — foul air is death in diphtheria. Let the food be ice 
 cream, or dessertspoonfuls of cream, or pure calves' foot jelly, or raw egg and loaf 
 sugar well beaten and administered half an egg at a time four times daily. This 
 treatment we believe to be infallible in diphtheria : it has cured the most obstinate 
 cases. And if the house where the disease appears is at once well whitewashed, 
 fttraigated'zcf// with sulphur three days in succession, and the drains, arain pipes 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 571 
 
 and sewage are at once attended to, we believe there is no probability of the disease 
 proving fatal or spreading: diphtheria is a disease of drain origin. The sulphur in 
 this treatment kills the poison spores rooted in the throat; the iron strengthens tlie 
 blood to resist them, and to give them no root-hold. 
 
 Sore Throat.— For common sore throat a gargle of salt and vinegar and a little 
 pepper is efficacious. Also to boil a little cayenne pepper in Vinegar and inhale the 
 fumes. Sulphur fumes or gargle as above also. Burn sulphur in tiny particles. 
 
 To Cure Hoarseness. — It may be useful to know that hoarseness is relieved by 
 using the white of an egg, thoroughly beaten, mixed with lemon juice and sugar. 
 A teaspoonful taken occasionally is the dose. 
 
 Remedy for Earache.— There is scarcely an ache to which children are subject 
 so hard to bear and so difficult to cure as the earache. But there is a remedy never 
 known to fail. Take a bit of cotton batting, put upon it a. pinch of black pepper, 
 gather it up and tie it, dip in sweet oil and insert into the ear. Put a flannel band- 
 age over the head to keep it warm. It will give immediate relief. 
 
 When a child has earache, keep it warm and quiet, soothe it by 
 songs, by stories, and by rocking it gently ; give no opiates, but ad- 
 minister a few drops of ammonia in water. Let it drink a cupful of 
 corn meal gruel ; give it a gentle cathartic, as rhubarb or magnesia, 
 and if the attack is violent, bind a hop-poultice over the ear. Syring- 
 ing the ear. with warm Castile soap suds and sweet oil is good, but be 
 careful what you put in so delicate an organ as the ear. Do not ignore 
 or undervalue an attack of earache ; it is a terrible pain, very exhaust- 
 ing to the nerves, and might produce serious results. A child subject 
 to it should have its ears protected from cold and draughts, and its 
 feet kept dry and warm. 
 
 Frost Bites. — The following is a simple remedy for frost bites. Extract the 
 frost by the application of ice water till the frozen part is pliable, but let no artificial 
 heat touch it ; then apply a salve made of equal parts of hog's lard and gunpowder, 
 rubbed together until it forms a paste, and in less than four hours the frozen parts 
 will be well. 
 
 A Remedy for Chilblains. — Take a piece of lime the size of your double fist, 
 put it in warm water and soak your feet in it, as warm as you can bear, for half an 
 hour. 
 
 To Insure Sleep. — If troubled with wakefulness, follow these rules : Eat noth- 
 ing hearty after sunset ; calm your mind before retiring ; go to bed at a regular houi ; 
 when you awake, rise and dress at once, no matter how early in the morning; never 
 sleep in the day. These five rules observed will insure sleep. 
 
 Dog Bite. — An aged forester has published the following in a Leipzig journal ; 
 " I do not wish to carry to my grave my much-proved cure for the bites of mad 
 dogs, but will publish the same as the last service which I can offer to the world. 
 Wash the wound perfectly clean with wine-vinegar and tepid water ; then dry it. 
 
572 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 Afteiivard pour into the wound a few drops of muriatic acid, for mineral acids 
 destroy the poison of the dog's saliva." 
 
 The best remedy for bleeding at the nose, as given by Dr. Gleason, is the 
 vigorous motion of the jaws, as if in the act of mastication. In the case of a child 
 a small wad of paper should be put ifi the mouth, and the child instructed to chew 
 it hard. It is the motion of the jaws that stops the flow of blood. This remedy it 
 simple, but it has never been known to fail. 
 
 Another certain method of stopping nose-bleeding is to fold or roll up a piece 
 of paper about one and a half inches long, and press it closely between the upper 
 lip and gum, as hiL;h upas it will go; this at once checks the bleeding: loss of 
 blood from the nose is sometimes nature's safe remedy, and should not be checked 
 too quickly. 
 
 No accidents are more common than strains, and no remedy is better than liol 
 water. Bathe the strained part for ten or fifteen minutes, then rub with vinegar, 
 camphor water, or some liniment (warmed), and rest the injured portion as long as 
 may be needful. 
 
 For colds on the breast, rheumatic pains, or incipient pneumonia, or congestion 
 of the lungs, no remedy is more effectual than a plaster made of two tablespoonfiils 
 of lard, and one of mustard, rubbed to a smooth paste, spread on flannel, and ap- 
 plied immediaiely to the skin. Do not have a cloth between the skin and the paste ; 
 the lard entirely prevents blistering or unpleasant irritation. Lay upon this plaster 
 a large piece of cotton batting, and then a cloth, as the lard is so penetrating thnt 
 it is apt to soil the clothing. This remedy applied on the temple has cured severe 
 and dangerous cases of rheumatism of the eye. 
 
 Many diseases are induced in summer, and sudden deaths occui-, 
 
 from people drinking freely of cold water while they are over-heated 
 
 or exhausted from work. Dr. Parker gives the following advice as to — 
 
 The Best Drink for Laborers. — " When you have any heavy work to do, do 
 npt take either beer, cider or spirits. By far the best drink is thin oatmeal, and 
 water with a little sugar. The proportions are a quarter of a pound of oatmeal to 
 two or three quarts of water, according to the heat of the day, and your work, and 
 thirst. It should be well boiled, and then an ounce and a half of brown sugar added. 
 If you find it thicker than you like, add three quarts of water. Before you drink it 
 shake up the oatmeal well through the liquid. In summer drink this cold; in 
 winter hot. You will find it not only quenches thirst, but will give you more 
 strength and endurance than any other drink. If you cannot boil it, you can take a 
 little oatmeal mixed with cold water and sugar, but this is not so good. Always 
 boil it if you can. If at any time you have to make a long day, as in harvest, and 
 cannot stop for meals, increase the oatmeal to half a pound, or even three-quarters, 
 and the water to three quarts, if you are likely to be very thirsty. If you cannot get 
 oatmeal, wheat flour will do, but not quite so well." 
 
 We would add that while it is an enormous cruelty and dangerous to 
 life to force a horse or other beast to labor in the heat without drink, 
 which it craves as much as a man, it will suffer as much as a man from 
 a sudden cold drink. Give the working beast a pailful of water in 
 which a tablespoonful of salt and a quart of bran are stirred. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 573 
 
 For a Wound.— The most severe wounds can be treated as follows: ragged 
 wounds, or those produced by a nail, or blunt rusty iron, thus treated will be sure to 
 heal, while otherwise they would be almost certain to produce lockjaw ; soak the 
 wound in moderately strong lye— about half good wood-ash lye, and half soft water 
 —until all stiffness departs and the swelling is reduced ; then cover it with the lees of 
 laudanum (laudanum sediment procurable from a druggist), and above that place a 
 poultice made of corn meal. It is well to anoint the edges of the wound witk 
 castor oil. 
 
 For a Boil, or Gathering, an excellent poultice is made by pounding the 
 leaves of the common garden-pulse— which children pinch and blow to make bags 
 of — with clean lard ; add a few drops of laudanum. 
 
 For a Burn, a good poultice is made by poundiag smooth the well-washed roots 
 •f the swamp cat-tail; it gives almost instant relief. 
 
 Poultices are usually better for the addition of a little iweet or castor oil, and a 
 few drops of laudanum. 
 
 Glycerine is valuable for rough or chapped hands ; it is excellent in earache, 
 and if this arises from the hardening of wax in the ear, glycerine will soften it and 
 bring it away sooner than anything else. It is perfectly safe. It is good also fo>r 
 cuts and burns. 
 
 Chapped Hands should be well soaked each night in warm Castile soap suds, 
 then shake out from the sudsf rub in glycerine for six or ten minutes, put on a pair 
 of old kid or leather gloves to sleep in. If the glycerine and gloves are not obtain- 
 able, soak well in Castile suds, dry with a soft towel, then rub in near a fire cleail 
 mutton tallow, and bind up the hands in linen cloths for the night. If hands givec 
 to chapping were always rubbed in corn meal after being put in water, from early ia 
 the cold season, they would remain smooth and healthful. 
 
 A Felon can be cured by putting on it in its early stage a small blister of Spanish 
 ■ flies, as big as a silver five-certt piece : this draws the felon to the surface ; pierce 
 it with a large needle, poultice in bread and milk for three hours and then dress 
 with castor oil. 
 
 Before a felon begins to gather, a poultice of pounded poke root will often cure it 
 completely. 
 
 For Cough. — Make a pint of strong sage tea ; add one-half tfeaspoonful of alum, 
 two tablespoonfuls honey, one tablespoonful gum arable. 
 
 For Cough. — Make one pint strong flaxseed tea ; squeeze in the juice of two 
 lemons ; add quarter pound lump sugar. 
 
 For Cough. — Almost a sure cure, especially for a dry cough of long standing, 
 is, five cents worth of bi-carbonate of potash, and one-half cup loaf sugar in three- 
 quarter pint of cold water; take a tablespoonful every hour or two. 
 
 For Fainting. — Lay the patient down; give plenty of air, allow no crowding; 
 loosen the clothing ; rub the hands, sprinkle' the head and face, and apply hartshorn 
 to the nostrils ; when consciousness begins to return raise the head a little, or half- 
 sitting, and fan. Do not seem excited, nor speak loudly. 
 
 For a Fit. — Extend the patient with the head elevated; give plenty of air; apply 
 ice or cold water to the head, and heat to the feet; apply ammonia or sal volatile, 
 rub the feet and hands. 
 
 For Hemorrhage. — Lay the patient down, apply cold cloths to the chest, and 
 administer table salt at short intervals ; send for a physician. 
 37 
 
574 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 For a sudden seizure of indigestion, with dangerous symptoms, administer a tea- 
 spoonful of table salt, put: a mustard plaster on the stomach, hot brick to the feet, 
 and give a gentle cathartic. 
 
 For a Person FROZEN.^Keep them away from the fire, rub violently with snow 
 or ice-cold water; when recovering roll up in a blanket, put in bed, cover well, and 
 give warm tea or hot beef-soup. 
 
 For a Person Struck by Lightning, dash water on them and strip and lay in 
 a trench of newly opened earth ; rub vigorously. 
 
 For Suffocation by Drowning or HANGiNG.^First get them out of the water 
 or rope promptly, apply heat to the feet, rub the whole body vigorously. Press the 
 chest regularly to imitate the breathing motion ; using an oxygen gas pipe and a 
 pair of bellows to fill the lungs is good ; wrap in hot blankets ; apply to the nose 
 ammonia, give six drops of ammonia in a tablespoonful of water; as soon as life re 
 appears give hot tea in spoonfuls, or hot milk or soup. Heat, friction, inhaling of 
 strong stimulants, and artificial breathing, are what is needed. 
 
 Antidotes for Poison. — Soda, salt, vinegar, chalk, raw eggs, mustard, sweet oil, 
 Boap, and milk, are powerful remedies for poisons, and are in every house. Send for a 
 aoctor, but do not wait for doctor or druggist : go to work. If the poison is an 
 ilkali, vinegar is a remedy. Freely drinking of new milk, continuing to drink even 
 when the stomach returns the milk, will destroy even arsenic poisoning. 
 
 \{ sulphuric or oxalic acid has been taken, swallow a quantity of chalk; the 
 -jrhites of raw eggs stirred up and swallowed, taking six, eight or more successively 
 as fast as possible, will destroy poisons, as corrosive sublimate ; mustard, stirred in 
 spft water and freely drunk, will cause vomiting and destroy poison. Any kind of 
 oil, as olive, linseed or common lard oil, will also destroy poison. 
 
 Phosphorus, as when children suck matches, give a tablespoonful of magnesia 
 and then freely gum arable water; less magnesia if only a little phosphorus is taken. 
 
 Opium, as laudanum poisoning, needs a strong emetic ; a tablespoonful of mustard 
 in a glass of warm water, or a half teaspoonful of powdered alum in as little watet 
 or coflTee as will carry it down, and repeat the dose. 
 
 Strychnine also demands very quick emetic, as above, or a heavy dose of ipecac. 
 Opium poison needs also friction, fanning, shaking, cold water on the head, jind all 
 efforts to arouse the patient. 
 
 Nitrate of Silver needs warm salt water until a free vomit. 
 
 Ammonia taken raw by accident : give new milk, olive oil, ice in bits, bind ice 
 on the throat. 
 
 Sugar of Lead needs lemon juice, vinegar, raw tomatoes, and finally a good dose 
 of Epsom salts. 
 
 Prussic acid, or fruit-stone poisoning, demands a. good emetic, and administer 
 freely ammonia and water. 
 
 Antimony is corrected by very strong green tea, and alum water. 
 
 After all these remedies, empty the stomach by a clear, warm water emetic, and 
 keep the patient in bed on a raw-egg diet for thirty hours. 
 
 A WORD ON SEWERS. 
 Sewers are our most dangerous conveniences. They breed diph- 
 theria, fevers and eruptive diseases. Typhoid, and typhus, and 
 yellow fever are the children of defective sewage. Sewers are, as 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 575 
 
 yet, never absolutely well constructed; they are never in perfect 
 order. If our own sewers are not dealing us out death, we may be 
 sure that our neighbors' are bestowing ruin upon us ; and even when 
 we fancy all is right, before the sentinels of nose and palate give a 
 warning of poison, our atmosphere is loaded with spores of disease. 
 What shall we do with our sewers? Oh, trap the pipes? Welli the 
 traps are in nine cases out of ten defective or out of order, and while 
 the one set of pipes are trapped, the overflow pipe is not trapped, 
 and who has given gas an injunction not to rise up through the over- 
 fiow pipe ? Lie awake some night and listen, and a whistle like the 
 low hiss of a springing snake warns you that sewer-gas is ignoring the 
 traps, or is arriving through the overflow pipe. The danger of sewers 
 may be thus stated : Many of our worst diseases arise from Hood 
 poisoning. ®ur blood is poisoned by our inhaling poisonous spores. 
 These spores come from decaying animal or vegetable matter, and 
 are in their complete state contained in the bath and clothing-wash- 
 water, and the chamber refuse of persons suffering from these diseases. 
 Our sewers are constantly filled with animal and vegetable decay, 
 and with these refuse spores of disease. On the gas, or light air 
 generated in sewers, these " spores of poison rise to permeate our 
 dwellings. Our sewers are not ventilated ; therefore there is no 
 escape for this poison-burdened air except into the houses by our own 
 house-pipes. If the entire system of town sewers could be ventilated 
 by means of tall chimneys connected with furnaces and factories, the 
 dangers of our sewers would be greatly lessened , but these spores 
 would still fall or light somewhere, therefore the ventilating chimneys 
 should be provided mid-way with some apparatus which would 
 chemically destroy the spores. Not only are sewers unventilated, but 
 they are subject to back or tide water, rising up along them and 
 crowding back the volume of gas and foul air, which retreats upon 
 the houses. The device for preventing the re-arising of sewage gas 
 through the pipes has been a trap; that is, a portion of the pipe which 
 holds water from half an inch to several inches depth, through which 
 it is supposed that gas will not rise. But from these traps the water 
 evaporates, or it is blown out by the force from below, or the rush of 
 
576 THE COMPLETE HOME. 
 
 water downward is so great that it sucks out the trap, or the trap may 
 be "siphoned," as is betokened by a roaring sound in the dis- 
 appearing water. 
 
 Great storms, heavy rainfall, high tides, all press immense volumes 
 of foul, death-dealing gas back on our dwellings, and our sole 
 defence is a poor weak little trap of perhaps an inch depth, and 
 subject to a dozen disasters. At sea one says with solemnity, 
 "There is but a plank between me and death;" but one sits and 
 eats his dinner contentedly wheji there is but one inch of water 
 between his whole household and death. Traps are also placed in 
 the street inlets. These, when deep and strong, offer resistance in 
 such fashion, that the gas will run up into the houses with their weak 
 traps before getting into the open air of the streets. Another trouble 
 is, that terra-cotta sewer-pipes are laid without beirJg cemented 
 together, and that builders, to save expense, put in very small, weak 
 traps, and leave out the water-closet traps into the sewer in spite of 
 the ordinance of prohibition. When you hear pipes and vents 
 bubbling, know that death is abroad. Let it rouse you like a tocsin, 
 for you have a worse than material enemy to fight. 
 
 1. Use for your basins and tubs frequently a strong solution of "lye 
 or caustic soda to cleanse pipes and traps. 
 
 2. Keep the window in the bath-closet open two inches at top and 
 . bottom, and the door closed. See that the door fits tightly and has 
 : the cracks covered with strips of felt. 
 
 3. Morning and night run clear water into the basins to fill the 
 : trap. 
 
 4. Put the plug in the basin and half fill it when leaving it. 
 
 5. Make a plaster of four-double wet paper, and stop over the 
 -joverflow holes. Be careful to do this every night. 
 
 In villages and in the country people having an out-of-door water- 
 ' closet should be sure to have — 
 
 1. A deep well-bricked vault. 
 
 2. A wooden pipe or chimney three by four inches in diameter, 
 .reaching from the vault through the roof of the closet, and high 
 -enough to carry gas away from the house. 
 
VALUABLE HOME KNOWLEDGE. 577 
 
 3. Take heed that this pipe is not near or level with your bed- 
 room windows. 
 
 4. Have well-fitted covers to the closet seats ; a window in each 
 side made of slats, not glass ; and a weight on the door so that it will 
 keep shut. 
 
 Remember that a drain where wash-water and bath-water are 
 thrown is dangerous, being full of decaying animal matter. Cleanse 
 it with lye and ashes or potash, and have it incline well and empty far 
 from the house. 
 
 Remember that the draii)-pipe from your dish-water sink is very 
 dangerous, as holding decaying animal and vegetable matter. Let it 
 carry off its water from the house and cleanse it daily; weekly 
 using lye or strong potash water. 
 
 Here ended the collections from her journals and various papers, 
 made at our earnest request, by oiu: Town and Family Oracle. We 
 have given them with little alteration as a thinking woman's views of 
 that which is woman's widest kingdom and her highest sphere. 
 
 Tkt Editor— Imu-k McNair Wright. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. PAGB 
 
 Accidents, how to meet 217 
 
 " not to be punished 100 
 
 Accounts, how to keep 397 
 
 Affection, in family 382 
 
 Agur's Prayer - 388 
 
 Ammonia, uses of 85 
 
 Apples, how to bake 145 
 
 Architects, of the future 286 
 
 , " Jewish 499 
 
 Art, study of 33 
 
 Aunts, maiden 374 
 
 Aunt Sophronia 1 1 
 
 Atoms, of disease 126, 127 
 
 Attics, care of. 123 
 
 B. 
 
 Babes, food for 94, 132 
 
 " toys for 133 
 
 " first training 94 
 
 " " Cross on Monday " 356 
 
 Baby-carts, dangers of 92 
 
 Baths 136 
 
 Beauty, a gift of God 112 
 
 " how to create 112 
 
 " in the family 112 
 
 " cash value of. 155 
 
 " in dress 432 
 
 Beautifying a window 168 
 
 Bed-rooms, Norman 506 
 
 " location 517 
 
 Beds, care of 135 
 
 Beef, how not to cook 421 
 
 " best way to roast 147 
 
 Bible religion 243 
 
 " how to interest in 197 
 
 B:rth-days, how to keep 379 
 
 Blood-vessel, cutting a 222 
 
 (578) 
 
 Books 171 
 
 " where to have zo6, 208 
 
 " for children 197 
 
 " and criminals 216 
 
 Boys, in the street 283 
 
 " playmates 289 
 
 " tools 115 
 
 " work 180 
 
 Bread, for breakfast 67 
 
 " sauce 67 
 
 Brooms, how to take care of. 455 
 
 Burns, magic cure for 225 
 
 Butter and milk, to keep 82 
 
 Building a house 516 
 
 Botanical knowledge 28 
 
 C. 
 
 Cake, cream 359 
 
 Calico, dare to wear 59 
 
 Capital on which to marry 16, 20 
 
 Carpets, care of 354 
 
 " buying 463 
 
 Celibacy, when a virtue 23 
 
 Cellars 124 
 
 Celtic Homes 496 
 
 Celts, habits of 497 
 
 " character of 495 
 
 Centre-piece, for table 159 
 
 Chair, how to make 464 
 
 Charity, payment of. 73 
 
 " to gain time for 48 
 
 Cheese and parsley 66 
 
 Choking, a remedy 234 
 
 Children, overwork 93 
 
 " and company..... 3^^ 
 
 " mischlevousness 188 
 
 " in the family '..362,87 
 
 •' manners 323. 97i 45''. 37* 
 
INDEX. 
 
 579 
 
 thickens buying papers .' 194 
 
 Chimneys, how to build 518 
 
 Christian home 299 
 
 Christmas, keeping 484 
 
 Cicero's precept as to money 389 
 
 Cisterns, with filter 127, 518 
 
 Civility .* 310 
 
 Closets 518 
 
 Clothes, old 70 
 
 washing 43.356 
 
 " to prepare for wash 43 
 
 Coal oil, care of. 226 
 
 Coffee, making 74 
 
 Coloi, in dress 434 
 
 Comfort, an aim 165 
 
 Conversation, manners in. .312, 483, 311 
 
 Cooking for sick 147 
 
 " utensils of the Romans . . . 493 
 
 Croup, to prevent 163 
 
 " to cure 142 
 
 Crimes and errors 98 
 
 D. 
 
 daughters, cares of eldest 93 
 
 " in-law 368 
 
 Debts 25, 389, 399 
 
 Drowning in a well 223 
 
 Decision, with servants 454 
 
 Dickens' first love 196 
 
 Thinner-table ornaments 159 
 
 " party.., 474 
 
 jf)inners without wines 477 
 
 Discouraging a man 467 
 
 Disease, taken in time 141 
 
 " of house-plants 479 
 
 " result of carelessness 118 
 
 Diseases, causes of nervous 90 
 
 Disorder 37. 4°. 46 
 
 Dog-bite, remedy for 281 
 
 Drainage and ventilation 125 
 
 Dress, rules for 434 
 
 - " and heahh .417, 426 
 
 " " honesty ^24 
 
 " of Romans 491 
 
 " for large and small people.. . 434 
 
 " hints on 41 
 
 Dressing the hair 413, 419 
 
 Bi* PAGH 
 
 Earnings and Savings 186 
 
 Ear-rings 417 
 
 Economy 63, 65, 390 
 
 " and young couples 28 
 
 " in the old world 74 
 
 Education, as cowards 236 
 
 " among Saxons 50* 
 
 Egg. liow to poach 145 
 
 Emergencies, how to meet 53 
 
 Emerson on good manners 308 
 
 Engagements, length of. 21 
 
 Etiquette, books on 306 
 
 Evening reading 208 
 
 " rest 183 
 
 Evil reading 215 
 
 Example, force of 287 
 
 Exercise 135 
 
 Extravagance 365, 395 
 
 " portrait of. 396 
 
 Eyes, care of 162 
 
 F. 
 
 Falls, accidents by 231 
 
 Family book-fund 216 
 
 " book-keeping 397 
 
 Farmers and newspapers 193 
 
 Farm-house, order in 52 
 
 " meals in 321 
 
 Farm-lands, more productive 152 
 
 Fashion and common-sense 417 
 
 " for children 427 
 
 Feet, care of. ; 426, 134 
 
 Filter, how to make a 456 
 
 Fire, accidents by 226 
 
 " fighting a 23O 
 
 Fires, guarding against 518 
 
 Fire-places, value of 138 
 
 Fire-screens, handsome 16^ 
 
 Fish, how to serve 476 
 
 Flannel, use of 120 
 
 Food and sleep 345 
 
 " for invalids 144 
 
 " for young children 132 
 
 " in patriarchal times 488 
 
 Foreign housekeeping 7.5 
 
 Foresight in housekeeping 472 
 
 French coffee 75 
 
580 
 
 lATDSX. 
 
 Fretting 182 
 
 Friendship in home 283 
 
 " of men and women. 301, 310 
 
 Frizzes for the hair 418 
 
 Fruit, how to frost for dessert 359 
 
 Fuel, saving in 78 
 
 Furnaces 519 
 
 Furniture, early English 509 
 
 " how to buy 165 
 
 " for a sick-room 138 
 
 " harmony in 463 
 
 " making one's own 464 
 
 " Tfustic 521 
 
 G. 
 
 Gardens and arranging them 521 
 
 Garrets, how to care for 123 
 
 Germs of disease 125 
 
 Glass in the eye, remedy for 231 
 
 " paper for polishing 349 
 
 Gowns, to make over 65 
 
 liuthrie. Dr., on Manners 313 
 
 " " " Book of Proverbs. 213 
 
 H. 
 
 Hair-dressing 418, 419 
 
 Ham, ornamenting a 160 
 
 Hanging-lamp, novel use of. 159 
 
 Hard times, how to meet 58 
 
 Head, needs a screen 426 
 
 Health, before carpets 121 
 
 " in children 129 
 
 " essential to happiness in home 23 
 
 Holidays 184 
 
 " among Romans 494 
 
 Home, a centre of activity 176 
 
 " decorations for 1 70 
 
 " manners 328 
 
 " festivals , 379 
 
 " its cash basis 389 
 
 " making, capacity for 30 
 
 " books 192 
 
 " its corner-stone 20 
 
 " and servants 498 
 
 " made happy 192 
 
 " " hateful 29 
 
 Honesty, in 4ress 417 
 
 " in children 104 
 
 Honesty, and eye service 449 
 
 " varieties in 40 
 
 Hospitality, a duty 269 
 
 " in the home 262 
 
 " Biblical instances of. . . 269 
 
 " varieties in 262, 268 
 
 " remarkable case of.275j a7J 
 
 " among the Afghans . - . 28* 
 
 " " " poor . . .273, 276 
 
 Hour-glass stand, how to make .... 464 
 
 House-cleaning, how to do 31 
 
 Housekeeping, a fine art 26 
 
 " every girl's trade..,. 190 
 
 " and scholarship 27 
 
 " value of knowledge of 26 
 
 House-plants, care of. 479 
 
 House- work, how to make easy. ... 38 
 " how to systematize ... 53 
 
 Houses, to make healthful 128 
 
 Hugh Miller's first library 196 
 
 Icelanders' love of books 214 
 
 Idea, people of one 33 
 
 Ideal of a home 257 
 
 Immortality of the home 513 
 
 Income, how to meet a reduced. ... 61 
 
 Industry at home , . 171 
 
 " made to pay 178 
 
 Indian wigwams 510 
 
 Infection, to escape 138 
 
 Indolence, a cause of disease 185 
 
 Insanity, its causes 332 
 
 Iron utensils, how to clean 350 
 
 Jean Ingelow on Unity 380 
 
 Joubert's precept on Money 389 
 
 " Jumping in a bucket " 73 
 
 K. 
 
 Kettles, removing iron taste of. ... . 556 
 
 Kitchen, made beautiful 166 
 
 ' ' conveniences in 450 
 
 " furniture of 462 
 
 " economizing in 49 
 
 Kindling-wood 227 
 
 Knives, to clean 347 
 
INDEX. 
 
 581 
 
 L. PAGE 
 
 i^bor, change of, a rest 184 
 
 Lace and embroidery, to wash 45 
 
 Lace curtains, to do up 357 
 
 Late suppers 474 
 
 Laying up money 3P3 
 
 Legs, crookedness of, in children. . 136 
 
 Liberality pays well 402 
 
 Life, how shortened 119 
 
 Lightness in dress 427 
 
 Literature in the home 192 
 
 " creating a taste for 198 
 
 " of impudence ... . 318 
 
 Longevity 129 
 
 Lord Bacon's precept as to money. . 389 
 
 Lounge, how to make a 464 
 
 Love of money 386 
 
 " in the home 20 
 
 Love-story, a little 442 
 
 Luncheon, how to prepare 472 
 
 Lye-water, its use 127 
 
 M. 
 
 Macaroni, mock 68 
 
 Mad-dog, escape from 233 
 
 Maiden aunts 374 
 
 Making-over dresses 65 
 
 Mammon- worship, us meanness.. . . 403 
 
 Man and wife, unity of. , . 361 
 
 Management, good 460 
 
 Manners, at meals 321 
 
 " cultivate cnildren's. . .97, 323 
 
 " of young people 317 
 
 " to servants and children . 314 
 
 " Emerson on 308 
 
 " advice to a boy on 310 
 
 " boyish attacks oi bad. . . . 309 
 
 " books on 306 
 
 Marriage engagements 21 
 
 " among Saxons 509 
 
 " suitable age for 32 
 
 " of widowers 373 
 
 " impediments to 23, 24 
 
 " wrong motives for 24 
 
 " without money 25 
 
 " a girl's best portion for. .26, 55 
 Masters and employes, rights of. . . . 60 
 
 Matches, careless use of 229 
 
 Matting, for bed-rooms 122 | 
 
 Meals, give time for 32? 
 
 Meat, salad of. 147 
 
 " to preserve 81 
 
 " a dressing for cold 359 
 
 Mentor's advice 224 
 
 Medicine 141 
 
 Method of work 332 
 
 " " religious training 251 
 
 " Micawber's, of financiering 25 
 
 Mistakes of parents 87 
 
 Mistresses and maids 436 
 
 " over-particular 446 
 
 Poof 453 
 
 Model, for farmer's wife, 52 
 
 " " young girl 330 
 
 " " nurse 189 
 
 Modesty, in dress 423 
 
 " " manners 330 
 
 Money, a means, not an end 386 
 
 " its abuse 404 
 
 " " value 387 
 
 " three precepts on 389 
 
 " how to obtain 392 
 
 " " " save 390, 391, 394 
 
 " " " waste 396 
 
 " " " spend 402 
 
 " a home-builder 406 
 
 " should be ear.ned 407 
 
 " advice to a boy on 409 
 
 Morals and religion 238 
 
 Morning, reading in 208 
 
 Mothers' care for children 94 
 
 Mothers-in-law 368 
 
 Mothers' meeting 73 
 
 " their need of reading. . . . 155 
 
 " controlling power of. ... . 99 
 
 " their worth 336 
 
 step 372.374.375 
 
 " old age of 37°. 37i 
 
 Music in home 480 
 
 " study of 33 
 
 Mortgages 404 
 
 N. 
 
 Napkins, how to make pretty i6i 
 
 Nation, its wealth 152 
 
 Natural history, love of 1 14 
 
 Natural objects in a home • 163 
 
582 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Need and pride 62 
 
 Newspapers 114 
 
 " value of 192 
 
 Normans, customs of 507 
 
 " houses of 505 
 
 Nurses, duties of 140 
 
 " dress of 1 40 
 
 " English 96 
 
 Nurse-maids 91 
 
 " " what to require of . . ... 94 
 
 " model for 1 89 
 
 Obedience, of children 98 
 
 " a foundation stone 117 
 
 Occupation, of patriarchs 487 
 
 " danger of changing. . . . 398 
 
 Offers of marriage 12 
 
 Oil-cloth, how to clean 347 
 
 Old clothes 518 
 
 Old-fashioned courtesies 323 
 
 Order, in individuals , 51 
 
 " " Home 32 
 
 " " farm-house 52 
 
 " " a great time-saver 36 
 
 Ornament, for centre of table 159 
 
 Ornaments, for country home 151 
 
 Oriental fashions 420 
 
 " hospitality 488 
 
 Outlays, how to govern 59 
 
 P. 
 
 Painted-glass 169 
 
 Pantries, neatness in 82 
 
 Paper carpets, to make. . , . .■ 465 
 
 (Paper, for cleaning 349 
 
 .Parents, mistakes of 87 
 
 " responsibility of 381 
 
 " cares of 286 
 
 " vigilance of 259 
 
 Parlor. 162, 124 
 
 . '* its origin 5^6 
 
 Patience, how to teach 89 
 
 Patriarchal life 485 
 
 Penuriousness '. 390 
 
 Physical culture 119 
 
 Piety and pauperism. 247 
 
 Plan, how to work 40 
 
 PAGk 
 
 Plato 5,12 
 
 Playthings, improper 467, 468 
 
 Poisons, in cloth dyes 235 
 
 " and antidotes 235 
 
 Politeness, to mothers 324 
 
 " French 313 
 
 " to servants 450 
 
 " life's small change 314 
 
 Potatoes, how to cook 476 
 
 Pot-closets 127 
 
 Pots, shells for cleaning 348 
 
 Pounds and pence 56 
 
 Poverty and extravagance 388 
 
 Power, of beauty 168 
 
 Praise, an incentive 453 
 
 Prejudice, against step-mothers 377 
 
 Presence of mind 217 
 
 " " " in a chilli 221 
 
 " " " how 10 culiivate. , 237 
 
 " " " Dr. John Brown on. 218 
 
 Preserving clean speech loi 
 
 Pride, a master 62 
 
 Princesses as cooks 488 
 
 Progress, to Heaven 366 
 
 Prudence 393 
 
 Property, four rules for getting 392 
 
 Punctuality 468 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quail, broiled 557 
 
 Queen's toast 542 
 
 Quiet, to cultivate 89 
 
 " for children 90 
 
 ft. 
 
 Rags, in kitcnen 127 
 
 ■' uses of 518 
 
 Reading aloud • 481 
 
 '• of novels 201 
 
 '• its advantages 207 
 
 " for Sabbath . . , 204 
 
 ketid, how to 210, 213 
 
 " when to... . , . . .205, 207 
 
 " what to. 199, 201 
 
 V eading, how to procure 1 94 
 
 " for children 197, 198 
 
 Reading, improper. 203, 205 
 
 Reason, in dress 416 
 
INDEX. 
 
 583 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Reason in work 341 
 
 Refrigerator, a home-made 83 
 
 Regularity 53 
 
 Religion and crime 244 
 
 " thrift 248 
 
 " in the home 238, 249 
 
 " a basis of laws 241 
 
 Religious insanity 332 
 
 " principle 20 
 
 Remedy for choking 234 
 
 " for dulness 328 
 
 Ribbons and jewelry 435 
 
 Responsibility of mothers 286 
 
 Rest, obtained by change 343 
 
 Roasting meat, a new way of 147 
 
 Roman dinners 492 
 
 " slavery 49 1 
 
 " homes 489 
 
 Rooms to sweep 353 
 
 " " paper 519,520 
 
 '' " furnish 521 
 
 " " beautify 162 
 
 " for servants 449 
 
 R udeness, in small things 328 
 
 Rules, for money making 398 
 
 " " reading 210 
 
 " " dressing well 434 
 
 Rust, to remove 347 
 
 Rustic furniture 521 
 
 Reverence 316 
 
 S. 
 
 Sabbath, how to secure rest 1 83 
 
 Salad, how to make 147 
 
 " dressing for 146 
 
 " for fish 476 
 
 Sauvestre oa the Home 513 
 
 Saving of resting 335 
 
 " aimlessly 7 ' 
 
 " and spending 406 
 
 " cents 390 
 
 " time 337. 305 
 
 Saxon babies 502 
 
 " cooks ., ,501 
 
 " food 5°' 
 
 " houses 499 
 
 " tonMs 498 
 
 Science, cultivate love for 198 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Scrap-books 202, 195 
 
 Scrapel, to make 358 
 
 Screaming, evil of 236 
 
 Secret, of hard times 151 
 
 " of home happiness 461 
 
 " of success in housekeeping.. 478 
 
 " between man and wife 361 
 
 " a bride's fatal 366 
 
 " purchases 367 
 
 " of a criminal 364 
 
 " in the family 362, 65 
 
 Seamstress, wages of 186 
 
 " views of 58 
 
 " every woman should be. 29 
 
 Selfishn&s, in children 103 
 
 " in hospitality 262 
 
 Self-forgetting 'i'ld 
 
 Seneca on education 214 
 
 Servants 59 
 
 " their friends 445 
 
 " change of 439 
 
 " in patriarchal days > 485 
 
 " how many to keep 454 
 
 « wages ; . . . 57 
 
 " breakages ■ 64 
 
 Shoes, thickness of 120 
 
 Sewing, family 50 
 
 Sick, to visit the 167 
 
 Sickness in the family 1 18 
 
 Sick-room 138, 140 
 
 " " note-book 145 
 
 Silk dress, its cost 61 
 
 Silver, care of 350 
 
 Sinks, care of l85 
 
 Sisters, politeness to 3^4 
 
 Situation for a house 516 
 
 Sleep, a restorer 344 
 
 " of children , 131 
 
 Sleeplessness, cure of 148 
 
 Social culture 327 
 
 Soup relish 66 
 
 Sports, for boys and girls. 136 
 
 Sl.ite and religion 239 
 
 Step-mother's position 374 
 
 Study, for a young wife 34 
 
 " for Saturday evening 208 
 
 " of music and art 33 
 
581 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Study, what we should 311, 32 
 
 Sugar, how to save '457 
 
 Summer, diseases of 92 
 
 Sumptuary laws 431 
 
 Sunshine, a health-keeper 121 
 
 Sunstroke, remedy for 232 
 
 Sympathy for infirmity 326, 379 
 
 System in reading 207 
 
 T. 
 
 Table cloths, to take care of 160 
 
 " " how to iron 160,475 
 
 Table, how to arrange 160 
 
 " set for a parly 475 
 
 " how to clear off 351 
 
 Teasing by children .*... 106 
 
 Telling a story well 482 
 
 Tent life 485 
 
 Terror, how to overcome 95 
 
 Time, how to make 36 
 
 Thumb cut off 224 
 
 Toilette table, to make a 464 
 
 Training of servants 439 
 
 ** of boys 315 
 
 " children 87 
 
 Travelling and religion 256 
 
 Trimming dishes 160 
 
 Trusting servants 440 
 
 Truth in childhood 98, 102 
 
 Trains on dresses 423 
 
 Tins, how to clean 349 
 
 u. 
 
 Unbelief 238 
 
 Underclothes 426 
 
 " for day and night 131 
 
 Unity in the home 360 
 
 Untidiness 425 
 
 Use of money 385 
 
 " " cold meat 471 
 
 " " paper 349 
 
 " " sal-soda 125 
 
 " " a pan of bread sponge 358 
 
 V. 
 
 Ventilation and drainage 125 
 
 Vigor, rises from labor 185 
 
 Virtue, of reverence 316 
 
 Virtues, for the home 522, 532 
 
 " queen of social 262 
 
 W. TAG. 
 
 Wages 59 
 
 Walking-dresses 423 
 
 Wall-papers 520 
 
 Walls, color of 519 
 
 " smoke-stained 557 
 
 Washing clothes 355 
 
 " red table linen 358 
 
 " lace and embroidery 45 
 
 " lace curtains 358 
 
 " dishes 351 
 
 Water pipes 519 
 
 Wedding gift, a 36 
 
 Welsh Eisteddfodds 214 
 
 Western cabins 510 
 
 " settlers 274 
 
 Wealth 392 
 
 " Astor's 392 
 
 Wife, a model 52 
 
 ignorance of 361 
 
 " deceit of 367 
 
 " endowment of 365 
 
 Window, to beautify a 168 
 
 " curtains, to make 465 
 
 " gardening 48 
 
 " trimming 169 
 
 Winter, its ornaments 158 
 
 Woman, a helpmeet 364 
 
 " her extravagance 364 
 
 " her friendships 301 
 
 " as lecturers 14 
 
 " overworked 338 
 
 " wearing out vitality of. . . .. 344 
 
 Work, a blessing 334 
 
 " when injurious 181 
 
 " a duty 172 
 
 " how to do it 335 
 
 " for one day 40 
 
 " not an end 181 
 
 Working people 58 
 
 Work without system 183 
 
 Worldliness 253 
 
 Y. 
 
 Yearly holidays 380 
 
 Youth, their companions 290 
 
 " its duties „ . . . . 333 
 
 Young women's work 40 
 
 Youth, love of beauty in 153 
 
INDEX. 
 
 685 
 
 SUPPLEMENTAL INDEX 
 
 To Chapter on " Valuable Home Knowledge." 
 
 A. PAGE 
 
 Acid, oxalic. 574 
 
 " sulphuric 574 
 
 " Prussia 574 
 
 Alum, powdered 559 
 
 Afnmonia 574 
 
 Antimony. 574 
 
 Ants 556 
 
 Apple custard 549 
 
 " Jonathan 547 
 
 " meringue 548 
 
 " pot-pie 546 
 
 " pudding 548 
 
 " short cake 543 
 
 Apples and bacon 542 
 
 " in batter 548 
 
 Ashes, best use for coal 559 
 
 Astor House rolls 542 
 
 B. 
 
 Barley and its uses 540 
 
 " gruel 554 
 
 " sugar 555 
 
 Beans, common white 540 
 
 Beef loaf 534 
 
 " stealc grilled 534 
 
 " " stewed. Miss Dods' .... 543 
 
 " tea, how to prepare 553 
 
 ■• stuffed corned 535 
 
 " to make tough, tender 559 
 
 Begonias, slugs on 561 
 
 Blankets, how to dry 558 
 
 Bleeding at the nose, to stop 572 
 
 Blood-poisoning 575 
 
 Bloomer costume 566 
 
 Boils and burns, poultices for 573 
 
 Bread, how to make excellent 551 
 
 " brown 553 
 
 " pudding 549 
 
 Breakfast, a dish for 542 
 
 Bridal trousseau 567 
 
 Brushes, to wash hair 557 
 
 Butter sauce 551 
 
 Butter scotch. ....... , 555 
 
 C. PAGE 
 
 Cabbage, cooking 539 
 
 Cakes, apple short 543 
 
 black fruit. 546 
 
 clove , 544 
 
 chocolate marble 545 
 
 fruit 544. S4S 
 
 feather 544 
 
 gingerbread, thin 545 
 
 ginger crackers 546 
 
 gold 544 
 
 hickory nut 544 
 
 ice-cream 545 
 
 Jenny Lind 545 
 
 matrimonies 545 
 
 molasses doughouts 545 
 
 measure 544 
 
 Mrs. Holmes' liberty 544 
 
 pork 544 
 
 pound cake 544 
 
 puff 544 
 
 puffs, Chicago 546 
 
 German 548 
 
 queen's 545 
 
 Shrewsbury 544 
 
 sponge 544 
 
 sweet crackers 546 
 
 silver 544 
 
 tout fait 545 
 
 white fruit S45 
 
 wafers 546 
 
 Widow's 544 
 
 Calicoes, washing 558 
 
 Calla lily, culture of 561 
 
 Candy, how to make 555, 556 
 
 " caramels 555 
 
 " chocolate 556 
 
 " cocoanut 555 
 
 balls 555 
 
 " fruit, a delicious .^ 555 
 
 " molasses 555 
 
 " peamit 555 
 
 " sugar 555 
 
586 
 
 IXDEX. 
 
 TAGE 
 
 Candied fruits 556 
 
 Carrots for dinner 539 
 
 Chamomile, value of 559 
 
 Chapped hands 573 
 
 Chicken dressed as terrapin 535 
 
 panada 553 
 
 " pudding 536 
 
 Chilblains, remedy for 571 
 
 Chocolate, preparation of 542 
 
 " marble cake 545 
 
 Cleaning, general recipes for 55^ 
 
 Cloth, to clean black 558 
 
 Clothes, to restore color to white. . 558 
 
 Clothing, preserving color of 558 
 
 Coffee, how to make 552 
 
 Corset 566 
 
 Cough remedies 573 
 
 Crackers, sweet and ginger 546 
 
 Cream of tartar drink 554 
 
 CrSme 548 
 
 Croquettes 543 
 
 Croup 570 
 
 Cucumbers, treatment of 541 
 
 Curry S35 
 
 D. 
 
 Diphtheria, treatment of 570 
 
 Dish-washing, directions for .... 557 
 
 Dog-bite, mad, treatment of 571 
 
 Drawn butter 550 
 
 Dress reform 566 
 
 Dried beef gravy 550 
 
 Drowning, suffcjcation by.. 574 
 
 Duck, salmi of wild 537 
 
 Dumplings, marrow 543 
 
 Dyspepsia, raw eggs for 554 
 
 E. 
 
 Earache, remedy for 571 
 
 Egg cream 553 
 
 " plant, squash, spinach, to cook. 540 
 
 Eggs au gratin 54^ 
 
 " baked 543 
 
 " scalloped 54^ 
 
 " scrambled 543 
 
 Embroidery, setting the color of.. . 556 
 
 Eruptions 570 
 
 Excellent cakes 544, 545 
 
 Eye, neuralgia of. 57° 
 
 F. PAGE 
 
 Face, eruptions on the 570 
 
 Fainting, treatment of. 573 
 
 Felon, cure for 573 
 
 Fish-balls, Boston 538 
 
 " cod, roasted. 537 
 
 " trout, boiled 537 
 
 " Miss Dods' way of boiling. . 535 
 
 " sauce 551 
 
 Fit, remedy for 573 
 
 Flummery 548 
 
 Fowl, boiling 536 
 
 Fur, to clean white 557 
 
 Furniture, to remove .spots from. ., 558 
 
 Frost-bites, simple remedy for 571 
 
 Frozen person, care of 574 
 
 Frying and roasting 538 
 
 G. 
 
 Game, broiled quail 537 
 
 '* salmi of wild duck 537 
 
 " to preserve dead 560 
 
 Glass globes, cleaning 556 
 
 " cement for 559 
 
 Gloves, best cleaner of 556 
 
 Glycerine, uses of 573 
 
 Grease spots, to remove 558 
 
 Gruel, how to make 553 
 
 H. 
 
 Ham balls 535 
 
 Hash, Scotch 535 
 
 Hemorrhage 573 
 
 Hoarseness, to cure ' 571 
 
 Home amusements 561, 563 
 
 House plants, care of 561 
 
 Household conveniences 560 
 
 Hysterics, remedy for 570 
 
 I. 
 
 Important recipes 551 
 
 Indigestion, seizure of 574 
 
 Indigo, recipe for 559 
 
 Infants, dried flour for 554 
 
 Infant's wardrobe 568 
 
 Ink-stains to erase 558 
 
 Insects, to dctroy 558 
 
 Invalids, articles suggested for. 553, 554 
 
 K. 
 
 Kettles, removing iron taste of . . . . 556, 
 
INDEX. 
 
 587 
 
 L. PAGE 
 
 Laborers, best drink for 572 
 
 Lambrequins 556 
 
 Lemonade, how to make 553 
 
 Lettuce 541 
 
 Lightning, person struck by 574 
 
 Lime water and its us s 559 
 
 Linen clothing, preserving color of. 558 
 
 M. 
 
 Macaroni, steweii 542 
 
 " ar Italienne 542 
 
 Mats for the taMe, to make 559 
 
 Meat, to preserve 560 
 
 Meats, fish and game 534 
 
 Mustard, French 550 
 
 N. 
 
 Nitrate of silver 574 
 
 Nose, remedy for bleeding at the. . 572 
 
 o. 
 
 Oatmeal, the value and uses of . . . . 560 
 
 "' gruel 554 
 
 " preparation 541 
 
 Oleander bugs 561 
 
 Omelet 548 
 
 Onions, cooking 539 
 
 Opium 574 
 
 Oysters, fried and stewed 538. 
 
 " macaroni and patties 538 
 
 P. 
 
 Pain perdu 543 
 
 Paint, to remove 558 
 
 Panada 554 
 
 Pandowdies 541 
 
 Partridge, broiled 536 
 
 Pies and puddings 546 
 
 " crumb 549 
 
 " lemon, and raisin 547 
 
 " mince, extra 549 
 
 " parsnip 548 
 
 " perfect 549 
 
 Plants, treatment of weakly 561 
 
 " care of house 561 
 
 t" soil for pot 561 
 
 -" lice, to destroy 561 
 
 Poisons, antidotes for 574 
 
 Pone, hotel 539 
 
 Pop-corn 555 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Pork, boiled salt 535 
 
 Potatoes 538 
 
 Poultices 573 
 
 Prune whip 550 
 
 Puddings, apple ,. . 548 
 
 " bread 548 
 
 " carrot 547 
 
 " cheap 548 
 
 " cottage, b.iked 548 
 
 " Dorchester 547 
 
 " dessert . . . . ; 549 
 
 " dark steamed 549 
 
 " plum 546 
 
 " snow 547 
 
 " sauce 550 
 
 " Yorkshire 543 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quails, broiled 537 
 
 R. 
 
 Relish for breakfast 542 
 
 Remedies, a few simple 570 
 
 Rice cream 553 
 
 " boiled properly 540 
 
 Ribbons and silk, cleaning of 558 
 
 Rust stains, removing. 558 
 
 S. 
 
 Salad dressing without oil 55" 
 
 Sauce, bread 551 
 
 " butter 551 
 
 " fruitjuice 551 
 
 " carrot 55° 
 
 " for roast beef. 550 
 
 " favorite 550 
 
 " fish 551 
 
 " foaming 550 
 
 " lobster 549 
 
 " soyer 55° 
 
 " Stewards' 551 
 
 Sewing and mending, hints on. 563, 565 
 Sewers, how to guard against dangers 
 
 of 574 
 
 Silk, to clean black 55^ 
 
 " how to wash 557 
 
 Silver, nitrate of. 574 
 
 Sleep, to insure 57' 
 
 Smoking meat, arrangement for. . . . 560 
 
588 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Soups, calPs-head 533 
 
 celery 534 
 
 Ff«"ch 533 
 
 Murphy 533 
 
 Mr. Gomez's pea 533 
 
 Scotch broth 534 
 
 veal, economical 533 
 
 Stains in white goods, to remove . . 558 
 
 Stoves, blacking 556 
 
 Strychnine 574 
 
 Suffocation by drowning or hanging. 574 
 
 Sugar of lead 574 
 
 T. 
 
 Table-cloths, worn out 564 
 
 Tar 558 
 
 Tarts, open 547 
 
 Tea, how to make 552 
 
 Teeth, preparation for the 558 
 
 Throat, cure of sore 571 
 
 Tidies, washing 556 
 
 Tomatoes 540, 541 
 
 Tongue, toast 543 
 
 Toothache 570 
 
 Tout fait 545 
 
 Turkey, ragout of. 536 
 
 " stewed 536 
 
 V. PAGE 
 
 Vegetables, barley 540 
 
 " bean polenta 540 
 
 " cabbage 539 
 
 " carrols 539 
 
 " corn, hulled 539 
 
 " cucumbers 541 
 
 " egg-plant 540 
 
 " onions 539 
 
 " potatoes for breakfast... 540 
 
 " " au cr6me 540 
 
 " " fried sweet. . . . 540 
 
 " rice, to boil properly . . 540 
 
 '* tomatoes 540 
 
 Vomiting, treatment of severe 570 
 
 W. 
 
 Walls, smoke-stained 557 
 
 Wardrobe, infant's 568 
 
 Wheat, frumity 554 
 
 White worms in soil '. 561 
 
 Wounds, treatment of. 573 
 
 Writing, to restore faded 559 
 
 Y. 
 
 Yeast, hop 552 
 
 Yorkshire pudding 543 
 
OM PLETE 
 
 ^