Woman's work. (Athens, Georgia) 1887-1???, October 01, 1888, Image 12

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THE GOOD TIMES AT HOME. O, the good times at home! how sweet to remember The Treasures and joys that surrounded us there, From December to June, and from June to December, When we were unburdened with sorrow or care. From garret to cellar, from cellar to garret, With happy abandon we frolicked and played. Invoking the spirits of music and laughter, And nobody frowned at the racket we made. O, the games and the gambols out doors, so inviting, With home very handy to run to, in ease Some lawless marauders, against us uniting Should press us too closely, compelling a race. All through the dear dwelling and every place near it, So fearlessly, freely, permitted to roam. What wonder that we should decide In our childhood There was naught to compare with the good times at home ! Then the games in the evening in which we would riot, The telling of stories, adventures, and all That had brightened the day! and then, later, the quiet, The peaceful home hours—how sweet to recall! ' There were books, there were pictures in endless profusion, The sick or the studious ones to beguile. And the dark winter days were made cheerful and pleasant, By the mother’s dear presence, her voice and her smile. O, blest were the ties of affection that bound-us! O, joyously sweet were the songs that we sung, When merry companions were gathered arotjnd us, And familiar the scenes that we frolicked among! Though many a banquet is spread for our pleasure, Though oft from the fireside tempted to roam, The heart will still cherish its fond recollections Os the days that are past and the good times at home. rt, Note.—Space frequently compels us to condense communications, but we feel as sured our friends will not condemn the necessity for the exercise of this liberty All are welcome —too many cannot come —and we note with pleasure every new arrival and every repeated visit. Let each add to tile value of this popular department by asking for and giving information, mat ters of interest, etc. Dear Woman's Work. Being a man, I am of course not expect ed to know anything about domestic affairs, and I acknowledge my ig-norance. Yet in spite of what my better half says, I believe, in one instance at least, I am correct, and , I now apply to some kind reader of Wo man’s Work for a decision. My wife con tends that in order to make yeast, you are compelled to get a little of that article from some one else, to start your own. I contend that there is certainly some way of making it independently of others, if one only knew the process, or how •would it ever have been started in the be ginning? I am of the impression that be cause she does not know, she thinks I know too much. Am I right? Please answer affirmatively and give the process. A Husband. Dear Sisters:— Thus I hope I may be permitted to address you, even if I have never asked permission of anyone to in trude. I have only been a subscriber two months, but even in that length of time I have learned to love each writer with a fondness that can never perish. Monnie Moore expressed my sentiments exactly when she wrote: “I want to de vour the contents of Woman’s Work all at once.” When it is received, 1 quickly put it out of’sight if I am too busy to stop, tor if it is where my eyes can light on it every time 1 look up, I generally have to yield to the temptation of putting aside my work. Woman’s Work is undoubtedly the purest, sweetest and best paper I ever read. Each page contains the choicest matter that ’twas ever my pleasure to read. The most refined can read its pages with profit; 1 believe each reader will heartily echo my expressions. Toprove 1 do sincere ly appreciate it; if the publishers will send me a half dozen copies or more—l could ,use a dozen to a great advantage—l will ■distribute them among my friends, and feel assured I will be rewarded by the thanks of each. I also send a list of names, and a sample copy to each will .doubtless result in several subscribers. Words are inadequate to express the pleasure with which I perused Maude Meredith’s sketch of Louisa May Alcott— the sweetest writer that ever lived. I’ve read several of her works, and from begin ning to end my interest was unabated. E. P. Roe, is another of my favorite writers. I am very fond of reading, and when my duties are over, I generally spend my time either in reading, writing, music or art. May be, I have intruded long enough, I especially, as this is my first call. If I see this in print, I’ll take it for granted, I’m j welcome, and try to write something more ! worthy of publication. With best wishes. Birdie. Dear Editress: I can’t tell you how much our household appreciates Woman’s Work; in fact we feel that it is almost in dispensable, containing as it does so much i useful information for housekeepers. I am not on the housekeeping list as yet, but hope to meet with a welcome, for no one I prizes Woman’s Work more highly than i myself. My mother, who has been a sub scriber to your magazine since its first issue, in trying to widen the circulation of your valuable paper, loaned all hers out among neighbors and friends, She is now anxious to learn through your columns if back numbers can be obtained, and at what price, hers being so badly worn that they are illegible. Will enclose a recipe for making a very cheap and delightful tea cake. Minnie Cox. Note.—We could not charge for dupli cate copies where the originals were de stroyed in so good a cause as trying to extend our circulation, but our supply fre quently runs short and we cannot promise second copies. Patrons’ friends who ap preciate the paper sufficiently to read it so thoroughly, we hope will subscribe them selves in justice to all concerned. Dear Woman's Work:—l cannot resist the temptation, of writing to one who has been such a help and comfort to me. You have helped me to plant my. garden and work my flowers. Told me when to prune my geraniums and where to place my brightest ones that I may muke home sweeter for my husband and children. You have told me how to raise my fowls and how to prepare nice meals. How to orna ment my rooms with my own hands. How to speak kindly to my children and point them to God. You have come at twilight, when 1 was tired down' from the day’s work with your soft, sweet words, and given me renewed strength and a deter mination to be a better wife.and a better mother. I may be accused of neglecting to read many things, but you, Woman’s Work. Never! I am here reminded of a piece in the September number entitled ‘ Some Hearts” that put me to thinking, for the cap fit me, in one respect at least, in that I have sadly neglected reading, and my music too, for some time. lam glad the piece is entitled “ Some Hearts.” Some sounds like « few to me, and I hope such hearts are scarce. I truly thank you, Woman’s Work, for such articles. If 1 can warm my hus band’s heart up and make him the “sweet, jolly boy of old ” by simply reading, I am determined to do more of it. Yours, Lucile. Dear Woman's Work:— “l am a stranger in a strange place. I cannot go about and make new friends and I long for a chat with my old ones.”. The above sentence touched a tender chord in my heart. Who is more forlorn than a stranger in town ? Especially if said stranger be a woman with young children or some member of her family sick. In a new town the inhabitants have a kindred feeling for each other and visit without formality. The citizens of an old town seem sufficient unto themselves. A man’s business throws him in contact with other men; but few realize how much a woman longs for the old home and how a friendly call, a few pleasant words would cheer her. The further away from home she-isthe more she needs the assurance that she is welcome and new friends await her. Should a stranger move into your neighborhood don’t wait to “find out all about her” or a suitable time to call fash ionably attired in silks, etc, but at an early day don your bonnet and spend a few hours or minutes with her. Subse quent calls should be governed by circum stances attending the first. “This world’s a land of grief,” sings Father Ryan, and it is our duty to lessen the oppressing cares of others. Last winter I beard a Michigan lady re mark, “I have spent two years in S and L with my sick husband. In 8 1 taught in the Sabbath school; still there isn’t a lady in either place I would feel at liberty to call upon. If I ever get home I’ll know how to sympathize with tourists.” Could she have said the same had she visited your town ? M. N. Moody. ; Editor Woman's Work. By the merest chance I came across your valuable paper, and I like it better than any of the other papers of the same price that I have ever seen, and my hus band reads the paper and says the same thing. Now I presume other husbands read it. too, and I am going to tell them about our neighbors. We are all farmers here, but live pretty near each other so we tome to know a good many things about each others lives. I*wont sign my name, so no one will know me, ard then I shall not be gossiping about my neighbors, a thing I despise to do. ‘ Here is the first picture. Neighbor A. on the east of us owns a large farm and works hard. So does his wife, but you could not sit within hearing of Mr. A. for two hours without hearing him laugh. He laughs over his work, jokes over any mis hap, tries and tries hard sometimes to cov er up all the gloomy places, and see only the pleasant side of things. After he has been gone from home, he brings back every item that he thinks will interest Mrs. A. or the children, and I have heard Mrs. A. say, “I’d about as soon stay at home and have Dick tell me all about it as to go my self. ” Still Dick, as she calls him, does not go alone when he can avoid it. He says “ A woman’s work is so monotonous that she needs more recreation than a man does.” When he comes into the house he always has a smile.and cheery word. He says "if a man can’t come home at night with a pleasant word for bis wife, what can be expected of a woman who has been shut up in the house away from fresh air, going over and over the same old round of work day after day. ” Well, Mrs. A. is rosy and dimpled and happy as you might expect, . and they have one of the happiest homes that I know. Now we will look into neighbor B’s home. He has no larger farm, ifnd no more children, but he does not make as much money as Mr. A. does, though he drives his help, drives his wife and children, and drives hard bargains with his neighbors. But he loses his horses by hard driving and lack of blankets and care, lets cattle ruin his corn by having broken fences, runs his children <ill thev are sick and have big doctor bills; never comes home with a smile; never takes his I wife out with him, but begins to scold about something that has not been done, even before he has got q.ut of the wagon after being away half a day. Well, Mrs. B. is thin and wrinkled and so subdued she scarcely even speaks, and has that look of “I’m-afraid-my-soul-is’nt-my-own” that so many brow beaten women fake on, the children are cross, and from being so often scolded and punished, cowardly and false- Altogether it is one of the most unhappy, unpleasant homes that I ever saw. Now don’t you believe there ought to be a little literature advising husbands to -‘meet your wives with a smile” and “always dress as neatly as you did in your courting days?” Ot course it does not make any difference what your work is; even if the most humble labor, you should remember how you used to “spruce up” when you went courting, and never appear more careless before her now. You know wives are advised, and advised, to dress always as neatly as they did when entertaining . their “beaux.” But, nonsense aside, as the home now is. the man has the balance of power, and the home, is to a great extent is what he makes it. Os course, I know, there are cross, sel fish wives, and they always make unhappy homes, and they seem always to get meek, pleasant husbands, but there are many wives that are not cross, nor selfish, who are brow-beaten and found fault with and. what seems a lesser sin, but is far more common, are neglected, never cheered or praised, or invited to little pleasant hours of recreation, and whe can not make happy homes no matter how much they try. So here is the substance of my letter in a sen tence-Husbands help and praise and cheer, and above all, love your wives. Jane Homespun. Dear Woman's Work:— Though quite a number of my neighbors read and appre ciate Woman’s Work, none have yet •contributed to its pages. I’d like to write something, in order to have my name enrolled alongside of those whose letters I enjoy so much; but as I’m not accustomed to writing for publication, I don’t know how to go about it. I’m sure Woman’s Work is not enjoyed more by any of her subscribers than by myself. I think the poetry is ever as sweet as can be. I often memorize gems from the paper, and repeat over and over to myself as I go about my housework, or write them on the black board and let my pupils learn them. Yes, Mrs. Oscar Bryant, J, too, am teaching and housekeeping. I teach in a part of my I dwelling; so, you see, it is very convenient for me. Ihis is the first year I’ve taught since I married. Have taught eight months, and have enrolled over 90 pupils. I’m busy from morning till night, but I love work. I, also, am anxious to read Louisa Talcott’s book, entitled “Work.” I find time to read a little sometimes. I’ve just finished “Napoleon and his Marshals,” by Headly. I think it the best thing I ever read, except Pollock’s “Course of Time.” Will Mrs. W. A. Allen, ot Marietta, Wis., write me? I’d like to be agent for ■ her patterns. * This is Saturday, and I’m to cook dinner to-day. I’m going now to the kitchen, and take Woman’s Work with me, and try some recipes. I’ll roast my meat the way it says is "best.'' I like to cook. Goodbye. Mrs. Maynie Deadwyler. Elberton, Ga. Dear" Woman's Work. When Horace came home last night he brought a letter, his weekly paper, and a, couple of sample copies of your good paper, sent from Kit Clover. I had asked the sis ters in a paper that Kit writes for to send me something to read. I can’t tell you how much I like your paper, and I hope never to be without it again. I see so many bright helpful things in it, and it occurred to me that some of the bright sisters might be able to help me. I am no worse off than two-thirds of the wo men that I know, but I am dissatisfied with things as they are, and I dont know how to help myself. I have no complaint to make against my husband; he is as good as as other men, but he is what 1 call “land crazed.” He puts every cent into more land, more land—cramps the family, and does not givethe children anychance at schooling— ail to put dimes or dollars into more acres. I can not have a cent of money from the butter that I make, and all the eggs and poultry I can raise go to pay the store bill. Some years I do not have twenty-five cents in money during the entire year. 1 work hard, but have no right to any thing except the plain foojl I am able to cook, and the fewest clothes that I can possibly get along with, yet he bought fifty acres of land last year—mostly woodland that does not seem to pay back much; only a few saw logs, the pay lor which will go into more land. Now I want to ask the sisters if they can tell me any way in which I can earn a little money each year, that will be my own, and that cannot be taken away from me. 1 am willing to work hard—just as hard as my husband does— but it does not seem quite right to me, that after I have done this I can not have ten cents that I get for a dozer, eggs I sell. I think of a thousand different schemes, but I don’t like to do anything that will reflect on my husband,(the neighbors think I do notspend money from choice, and call me-tight”) but sometimes, when I want a clean new dress—when the old ones begin to look like patch-work—or a new bonnet, once in five or six years, then it seems to me that I can not go on all my days in this way, and know 1 shall never get any thing but a very cheap coffin after I have worn myself out. I don’t believe life was intended to be such a hard steady grind, with no liberty’, no freedom, and no sym pathy. Can some of the sisters suggest a remedy? Wearily Yours, Hope Mayfield. i Dear Editress: I saw Woman’s Work mentioned in a Georgia paper and subscribed for it. Am delighted with every issue. Georgia was my home for 40 years. I eagerly seek for fa miliar names, and dearly love to read ev ery line. My life is very different here in California to what it was in Georgia, even in house keeping. California is a beauti ful and wonderful State. On 150 by 90 feet of ground we have a good six room house, 40 fruit trees, 18 grape vines, all kinds of vegetables—and rare flowers the year round. When they need rain we have only to turn a faucet hid among flowers, and have a sparkling shower in the bright sunshine, forming the rain-bow so near that you could almost touch it. With many good wishes for Woman’s Work. Sallie Manley. Gilroy, Cal. Straw bottles covered, painted brown and tied at top and bottom with bright ribbon, with a glass' for flowers inside, are prettily hung in groups of three against the wall or in odd corners. ’ Household ammonia is agood fertilizer tor house roses. Use in the proportion of a tablespoonful to a quart of water. The ammonia prepared for household use is di luted, and consequently is preferable to any other. Its use will not only better the growth of the plants, but will beautify the foliage, making it a richer dark green. Miss Francis E. Willard says: “lam more than ever convinced that our w men ought to give legislatures no rest until they make generous appropriations for girls’ in dustrial schools. No'olher single effort will do more to solve the problem of social purity.