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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.