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cate sprigged china. A teacher at the head of each
table sees that every child is carefully attended to
by the young governesses in charge and that each
has the food best suited to its needs. In some in
stances the children do not chew their food, and
each article that is eaten has to be shredded with
a fork. The mental training is wonderfully exact
and careful. The lesson periods are arranged in
half hours, beginning with the assembling of the
school at nine o’clock for the opening exercises,
which are made most attractive to the pupils. Work
. is then begun in the several classrooms, the chil
dren being divided into such classes as kinder
garten, primary, articulation, gymnasium, etc. If
any child seems dull or depressed in spirit, it is
taken out for a walk or a ride to brighten it up by a
change of scene and fresh air, for the value of fresh
air as a tonic is thoroughly appreciated by those
in charge. Few, if any, private houses are as or
derly, joyous and bright as this institutional home.
In the evening the older children, who do not go
to bed until nine o’clock, assemble around a table
in the library where they have games and an excep
tionally merry time. The handiwork done by these
Children is varied and admirable. The (physical
culture and manual training classes are the best
• I have seen in any school. The instruction is thor
ough, yet so gently given that no child seems ag
grieved or ill at ease. In the advanced class the
work is remarkable. S. M.
4
THOSE TENNESSEE GIRLS ARE EXCEPTIONAL.
Again I appear in the Household’s Open Congress,
being summoned by Miss Eugenia, of Tennessee,
who arraigns me for advocating the stay-at-home
policy for girls. She says that being a bachelor,
I am ignorant of how matters are managed in the
home. I plead guilty to the bachelor accusation. Is
bachelorhood a crime, fair Eugenia? and I may not
be able to tell a rolling pin from a stove lifter? But
these facts do not prevent my making use of my
eyes and my understanding. Through observing
things and thinking over them, I have come into
the knowledge that the girl at home is sweeter,
safer, for in her womans’ sphere, and in the long
run, happier than the young woman who is employed
in an office or a store.
Eugenia enumerates the duties of the home-keep
ing girl—to keep house, sew, raise chickens, churn
the milk, work in the garden. Now, all that sounds
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For twenty-three years
g the standard of the South.
fl Fish scrap is used in every ton of Farmer’s Bone.
Properly balanced and carefully mixed, insuring
I bigger yields with less acreage.
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The Golden Age for December 12, 1907.
very sweet and “homey” to me, brings up lots of
pleasant thoughts. Seems to me a girl should be
proud that she is capable of doing so many useful
things. As to parents treating girls unjustly, failing
to appreciate their work or to give them a little
money to spend in order to keep themselves look
ing neat and reasonably stylish, why, I think those
Tennessee parents whom she cites as being so stingy
to their girls are not representative of country pari
ents as a class. They are isolated instances. The
work of girls in the home is generally appreciated
and compensated to the extent of papa’s purse. I
suspect that the girl’s real grievance is she is lonely
and her life seems narrow. She wants a little pleas
ure and recreation. I heard a lady say recently
that most of the girls in the town where she lived
who took positions in shops and stores, did this
that they might “have a good time.” Os course this
does not apply in all, or even nearly all, instances,
and it applies to young men as well as girls. I
wonder that Eugenia and some of her sisters have
not sharpened their pens to retort upon Julia Co
man Tait, for her assertion that women are more
selfish and narrow than men. Girls, was there so
much truth in Julia’s finely-expressed and interest
ing arraignment of your sex, that you think it wise
to keep silent? Going back to my original proposi
tion, I’ll close with a rhyme:
Blow the wind east or blow the wind west,
The young bird is safest that stays in the nest —
To stay at home, girlies, is best, is best.
B. J. IVY.
K
LAUGHS I HAVE ENJOYED.
I have no patience with the chronic giggler, but I
do think a hearty laugh now and then is the best
clearer-up of the mental system of any prescription
I know of. Sometimes the laughing fit comes on
one and it is the hardest matter in the world not
to yield to it. Several times in my life it has seized
me on serious occasions and inopportune times,
and I have nearly burst a blood vessel trying to
keep a straight face. The very simplest thing ex
cites one’s risibles when the laugh is near the sur
face. Once when I was about sixteen, we were
going on a picnic. A kind of old-young girl, who
was very fond cf dress and of beaus and loved to
put on airs, had carried along in her pocket a hand
kerchief with her cosmetics tied up in it —face pow-
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der in one corner and carmine in the other. When
we were eating lunch (seated around a cloth spread
on the grass under a tree with the good things
on it) a little spider dropped from the tree on the
young lady’s face, and she screamed and jerked out
her handkerchief to get it off. It was the wrong
handkerchief she got hold of in the hurry, and
when she dabbed it over the spider on her nose,
the carmine left a big red splotch, right on the tip
of her “snub.” She was wholly unconscious of it
and kept on talking to her escort and putting on
airs and graces with that flaming, red blotch on
her nose. We girls laughed until we had to leave
the lunch-spread and go behind the trees where we
fairly rolled over in the grass.
Often I have enjoyed a hearty laugh over some
of the jokes in the papers and magazines. On one
occasion, I had been feeling out of sorts for days
(liver sluggish, I suppose), when a friend who was
visiting me read aloud a string of “funnygraphs.'’
One of them was about a girl who was learning
music and was taking her lesson on the piano, while
in the next room her father was trying to go to
sleep over his paper. At last, he said to his wife:
“Maria, what in the mischief is Jane doin’?”
“She’s practicing first steps in music,” replied Ma
ria.
“Well,” said the father, I wish you’d tell her
to take the steps in her stockin’ feet.”
That reply just struck the right place on my risi
ble nerve, and I laughed, as the children say, “fit to
kill.”
The laugh that did me most good, however, was
when I went off to school, forty miles from home.
I had never left home for more than a night before,
and I was so blue and homesick, I could not eat
or sleep. One evening, after I had been crying up
stairs and had no appetite for supper, the kind
lady I was boarding with asked me into her pleas
ant, pretty bedroom. Her children —three boys—
were having a great rough-and-tumble romp over and
under the bed and across the floor, thrashing each
other with pillows, turning somersaults and doing
all kinds of stunts. I laughed over their pranks
until I cried and that hearty laugh cleared away
the blue clouds of homesickness and made me feel
so much better and brighter. Will some more of
you tell us about the laughs that have done you
good? MARION.
Cedartown, Ga.
11