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For Woman’s Work.
HER POWER.
MBS. G. .
He looked upon her shapely hands,
And bending low, he kissed
The dimpled whiteness there displayed
And—“ Could not help it’’—lisped.
Once yet again he gazed upon.
Those hands in anguish raised
And flung them off, as scorpions fangs,
With scorn and passion dazed.
Again he looked upon those hands
Folded so cold—so still,
In death they cling with iron force,
And break both heart and will.
And to the end those hands will speak,
Though dust to dust returned,
Their clinging touch has now the power
For which she prayed and yearned.
For Woman’s Work.
DOMESTIC SCIENCE.
The nearest approach to the term in the
eighteenth century was Domestic Economy,
and the advance made is indicated by the
change, since the modern term concludes
the earlier, and pre-supposes much more.
Domestic Economy was limited to the
kitchen principally, and related to the
preparation, and conservation of food.
Domestic Science endeavors to trace the
connection of the kitchen with the larger
and higher life of the household,the effect of
food upon the physic, al system, and through
this, upon manners and morals.
It is now universally conceded, that the
first care of a reasonable man should be to
provide himself at the proper time with
healthful and agreeable food: meanwhile
it is, all things considered,*a duty, too often
neglected. It has been perfectly demon
strated by those who understand what is
termed the Science of Life, that it costs
more to live poorly than to live well. To
live well three things are requisite: to
know what choice of food to make, how to
proportion expenditure, and the best mode
of preparation. As one must eat to live,
it is a matter of the highest importance to
learn early, what kinds of food will furnish
healthy and palatable meals with the least
outlay.
To prepare food successfully, three things
also are necessary: to know how to choose,
how to vary, how to season.
Since the days when the Grand Dames
of the Faubourg St Germain regaled their
guests with delicate morceaux, prepared by
their own fair hands, and cooked in uten
sils of silver, there has been no such degree
of interest manifested by people of wealth
and consideration, with regard to affairs
de cuisine, as exists at present. Mrs.
Alma Tadema, herself a skillful artist, and
the wife of one enjoying a world wide rep
utation. is reported as saying, “Kitchen
first, studies next.” Ella Wheeler Wilcox
has devoted the year just past to a master
ing of culinary mysteries, and cooking
schools are springing up with the rapidity
of magic in all our large cities; and cooking,
as one of your contributors has happily re
marked, is becoming a fine art. Ladies
who have been the rulers of households for
thirty years, acknowledge they can still
learn much, and this assertion which
seems at first glance the statement of an
obvious truism, is the one fact more than
all others that redeems housework from
monotony and drudgery, and exalts the
doers of it to something more than mere
machines. The fascinations of chemistry
and botany, so potent that their votaries
feel threescore and ten years not half long
enough to spend in these pursuits, are fully
equalled by those of the kitchen, to those
who take a scientific view of it. By lec
ture and essay, one fact is being insisted
upon more and more—that the nature and
quality of food are the determining forces
in all, but rare cases, of health and cheer
fulness, and if this be so, no small degree
of responsibility, and dignity also, attaches
to the office of dictator, and purveyor, for
the family menu.
A wider field for experiment exists now
than ever before, since the products of all
lands are brought to our doors, and every
State has its paper or magazine devoted to
suggestions, hints or positive directions for
new culinary preparations. The literature
of Domestic Science, offspring of the nine
teenth century, has done, and is doing,
more for the improvement, entertainment,
and genuine ennobling of woman and her
work, than all other influences combined.
The ability to combine and resolve, is as
equally the province of the house keeper as
of the chemist. New combinations of com
mon material, evolving the toothsome from
the insipid; from the familiar, evoking the
piquant and varied —this is the privilege
and pleasure of the housewife of to-day.
While summering in the mountains, I
discovered that the flavors that made
Thackeray’s famous Bouillibaisso sodelec
table, had a wonderful influence upon in
sipid canned meats also, and although the
discovery did not rank in importance with
the finding of a new orchid, or some new
feature in the landscape, it will be of
practical value if I should be com
pelled to live again where fresh meat could
only be procured semi-weekly. To make
the soul enjoy good in its labor, is for both
men and women the highest .wisdom; and
for women, it is becoming not so arduous
an undertaking as formerly, as the entire
drift of things at present is towards comfort
in the home, and success in business. An
agreeable materialism, the newspapers call
it. Since Eve stood perplexed in Paradise,
considering how to join tastes not inelegant,
when on hospitable thoughts intent,
much time meditation has been spent
in similar fashion, and the one enexhausti
ble charm of housework to-day is that to
every woman the world of fluids, and solids,
is all before her, what to choose, as full and
fresh, and free as Eve left it, and as obedi
ent to the manipulations of her flexible
fingers. All the trained intellect can sug
gest of improvement in method, or quality,
each day affords opportunity for testing
An exhaustive field for invention lies be
fore every woman, although she may be
imprisoned within the walls of a kitchen—
how to do things better than the old way
or some method to lighten labor, or a new
device in cooking common food, or a novel
ty in the more ornamental dishes. Now
a-days she will find whatever she has to say
or offer on domestic subjects will receive,
at least, a respectful hearing. A thousand
hands are extended in welcome to all who
have anything to contribute to the general
fund of information on household topics.
Goethe’s lines written originally for men,
“ My inheritance how broad and fair.
Life is my seed time, of time I’m heir—”
are now, fortunately, applicable to women.
When woman’s work acquired a literary
and commercial significance, a vast onward
stride in progress was taken. In uplifting
her occupation, the worker was inevitably
elevated. No longer “cabined, cribbed, con
fined,” a boundless continent of endeavor
lies abreast of every one of us; possibilities,
and facilities, undreamed of thirty years
ago, are within our grasp, and we can, like
the fabled possessor of Pere Benon’s tent,
keep it restricted in the hollow of our hand,
or magnify it into a tabernacle for a host.
Life is only a Kindergarten, in which we
are given so much clay, so much time, to
manufacture what we will, each according
to his ability
Not only has the literature of Domestic
Science given women a new interest in
occupations old as the world ; it has created
a community of interests, and will event
ually invest them with some degree of that
esprit de corps, the absence of which has
become a stereotyped taunt. Although
there are few departments in art and lit
erature, unadorned by the genius and skill
of women, we cannot all become celebrities,
and Nature, mindful of the small as well
as the great, has endowed every woman
with some special gift or aptitude in the
performance of household duties; and not
only has she thus equipped them, she has
also in many ways helped to bring near,
the time when this specialty need not be
limited to her own family and neighbor
hood, but may become the property of the
world if she so will. If a Massachusetts
woman can acquire a national reputation
for making custard pies, of unapproachable
excellence, why cannot some one achieve
similar results elsewhere? The fact is
stimulating at least, and prompts to effort.
It may be that the traditional cakes and
pies that mother made, and no one else
can imitate, are in some way a recompense
for years of unregarded toil, a method
Nature takes to keep the memory green
long after the active brain and busy fin
gers have relapsed to their original dust.
When women feel the permanent and
abiding interest in their labor, that a man
does in his art, or craft, human happiness
and usefulness will be materially advanced
—and to this end and purpose, nothing has,
.or is, contributing so surely as the Domes
tic Literature of the nineteenth century.
Emelie Harris.
For Woman’s Work.
LEISURE THOUGHTS.
If you have any talent for either the
useful or beautiful, use it with judgment;
not to the neglect of regular duty, but as
an absorbent to keep you from drifting
into vice and extravagance.
Many are saved from indulging a ruling
passion or destructive habit, by spending
their leisure in cultivating an accomplish
ment, whereby others may be elevated and
themselves entertained.
Happiness does not consist of earthly
possessions or in distinguished positions,
for both are perishable, but in the con
sciousness of having done an act that gives
happiness to others.
It is the bright smile, and hearty laugh
that warm and gladden ; it is coldness and
neglect that wither and destroy.
The virtue of prosperity is temperance:
the virtue of adversity is fortitude.— Lord
Bacon.
For Woman’s Work.
DEALING DEATH BLOWS.
BY MRS. 8. C. HAZLETT.
How many of us ever think that a word
of ours, may be the immediate cause of the
death of another?
A feeling of horror creeps over one at the
very thought, for few would wittingly
do or say, with intent to kill; but it is
nevertheless true. A something that hap
pens every day, to some one.
It may be some word said hastily, per
haps angrily, under the impulse of the mo
ment; words that no doubt the one who
utters them would give his good right
hand to recall, but it is too late; the arrow
has sped, and a heart has been pierced to
its very center; a little germ of decay or
disease has been planted, and in time will
kill. The inflicted one may forgive, and
try to forget, but there will be times, in
spite of all to the contrary, when the old
pain will assert itself, the wound will ran
kle and fester.
Perhaps words telling of sudden losses
or gains, sudden joy, or words of advice,
all to have certain effects upon certain in
dividuals, will eventually kill in a different
way. but it is the unkind, cruel, thought
less, oft-times bitter and apparently heart
less words, that usually tell.
Suddenly spoken words, cruel words,
give one a terrible shock at times, not only
poisoning the life blood of the one who
utters them, but so permeating the inner
most recesses of the recipient, that for a
moment he is blinded, bewildered, dazed,
catches his . breath with difficulty, and
even staggers and reels when attempting
to walk. This maybe only momentary,
but it is death inflicting, and at any time
in after life when, try as he will to forget,
the memory of these words come back
to him, there is a recurrence too of the old
hurt, showing that something deeper than
a scar has remained.
Words, words, such little things, but
what may they not do? What do they
not do?
How many times unkind words are
spoken to the very ones who love us best,
and whom we most love, all because we
have not sufficient self-control; because for
the instant we are so blinded by passion
that we do not care, and yet there will live
with us always the memory of sad, tear
filled eyes, a pale woe stricken face, droop
ing, quivering lips, and hands clasped in
anguish.
Oh, let us realize just how much this all
means— Murder!
A frightful word, full of untold horror,
but many a wan face lies within the shadow
of a coffin lid, because of a few unkind
words. Death blows, terrible words, bet
ter to read of them, than to utter them ;
better still, to firmly resolve never to utter
them, and to keep that promise under God.
For Woman’s Work.
A CURIOUS CATALOGUE OF
DICKENS’ WORKS.
‘Oliver Twist’, who had some very
“Hard Times” in the “Battle Os Life,” has
been saved from “The Wreck Os The Gold
en Mary” by “Our Mutual Friend.” “Nic
eholas Nickleby” had just finished reading
•‘A Tale Os Two Cities” to “Martin Chuz
zlewit,” during which time “The Cricket On
The Hearth” had been chirping merrily,
while “The Chimes,” from the adjacent
churches were heard, when "Seven Poor
Travellers” commenced singing “A Christ
mas Card.” “Barnaby Budge” then arrived
from “The Old Curiosity Shop,” with some
“Pictures From Italy” and “Sketches by
Boz,” to show “ Little Dorrit,” —who was
busy with “Pickwick Papers,’’-when “David
Copperfield,” who had been taking “Ameri
can Notes,” entered and informed the com
pany that the “Great Expectations” of
"Dombey and Son,” regarding “Mrs Larri
pee’s Legacy,” had not been realized, and
that he had seen “Boots at the Holly-tree
Inn,” taking “Somebody’s Luggage” to
“Mrs Lirriper’s Lodgings,” in a street that
has “No Thoroughfare,” opposite “Bleak
House,” where “The Haunted Man,” who
had just given ®ne ot “Dr. Marigold’s” pre
scriptions to an “Uncommercial Traveller,”
was brooding over “The Mystery of Edwin
Drood.”
C. B. G.
Sunshine, sleep, and fresh air are the
three great restorers and vitalizers of the
human frame; as such, they are necessities
to existence; yet many persons tax their
brains in close rooms both night and day,
and then wonder why they become victims
to nervous prostration, paralysis, St. Vitus’
dance, hysteria and kindred disorders.
Exercise ranks almost equal in importance
to these three restorers; with a due amount
of these four, almost any human being, born
| «f healthy parents, may enjoy good health.
For Woman’s Work.
FLOWERS FOR BUSY HOUSE
WIVES.
BY KITTIE CARROLL.
When Ted ahd I moved to the farm I
searched eagerly for a spot where I might
plant some flowers. Ever since our marriage
we had lived ®n a busy village street with not
an inch of room for flowers. I was so anx
ious for a few blossoms that I could hardly
wait for the ground to dry, but thought of
planting some seeds in the house, to grow
until it was warm enough to allow us to
cultivate the garden. So you can judge of
my disappointment when a diligent search
revealed no spot which could be utilized
as a flower garden.
What was Ito do? I was determined to
have flowers and the greater the difficulties to
be overcome, the higher my spirits rose to
conquer them. In sheer desperation I
trudged away to the garden reserved for
vegetables. It was a forlorn hope. The lot
was enclosed by three wires and we would
need it all for vegetables. But “e’en as I
gazed upon it” there popped a bright idea
into my brain and I immediately hurried
off to find my “other half,” and with his
help put it into instant execution.
Well, the long and short of it was,we put
two rows of slender poles around the lot,
nailed to the posts beneath the wires, to
protect it from the depredations of sundry
small porkers that ambled round the premis
es. Ted plowed the ground and harrowed
it twice and I went to work. I never hill
up a bed for either flowers or vegetables as
it dries out more rapidly than when left
level with the surrounding. I hoed
and raked the ground thoroughly and mark
ed with the hoe, beds for peas, radishes, let
tuce and other early garden truck, leaving
a twelve inch path between the beds.
After the seeds were planted I marked a
shallow groove clear around each bed and
proceeded to plant hardy flowers. A small
space was left on one side to allow entrance
to the more substantial contents of the bed,
and the arrangement has proven more than
satisfactory. I planted vegetables and
flowers too, at intervals of two or three
weeks,and thus had a splendid succession of
both.
You cannot imagine how much easier it
was to hoe and weed the commonplace
rows of vegetables with all those lovely
companions looking joyously into my face.
I never missed the time taken in planting
and caring for them, as it was done along
with the vegetables. And the great comfort
of them! When, late in the summer, a
tiny bud of humanity was placed in my
keeping,the long, sultry hours were robbed
of half their weariness by the fresh flowers
that stood beside me. Besides, my babe
developed a tender love for flowers by the
time she was a few months old, and I at
tribute it to my own love and care for God’s
pure blossoms.
When Jack Frost sent out his advance
agent, I had a box eight inches deep, made
to fit in my deep south window. There is
a stone basement to the house and the sun
ny window is at least twenty inches deep
and thirty wide —almost a bay window.
The bottom of the box was covered with
broken crockery and the box filled with
rich soil. Pinks in bloom were carefully
dug up and a small round bed of them set
in the center of the box. Around these,
pansies, with their almost human faces,
were set thinly, as too close setting gives
small flowers. That box was the joy of the
house all winter. The lovely flowers filled
the air with faint perfume and a weekly
watering was all the care they required.
Oh, mothers, plant flowers for your chil
dren. You have no idea of the delight they
will take in them. It is very little trouble
to teach them care in handling the blossoms;
but don’t prohibit their picking a few every
day, as you will secure a greater wealth of
bloom by cutting the oldest blossoms. Try
my method for one year and if you do not
I ke it, write to me and see if I cannot ex
plain your cause of failure.
For Woman’s Work.
INDEPENDENCE.
A life ofindependence is generally a life
of virtue. It is that which fits the soul for
every generous flight of humanity, freedom
and friendship. To give should be our
pleasure, but to be a servile recipient should
be our shame. Serenity, health, and afflu
ence attend the desire for rising by labor;
misery, repentance, and disrespect that of
succeeding by extorted benevolence. The
man who can thank himself alone for the
happiness he enjoys,is truly blest; and lovely
—iar more lovely, is the sturdy gloom of
laborious indigence,than the fawning simper
of thriving adulation.
Every star above shines by itself : and
each individual heart of ours,goes on bright
ening with its own hopes, burning with its
own desires, quivering with its own pain,—
Thackeray.