youth some time during the early years of the Pliocene period; and, she adds, "the experience of wives gives no reason to hope that a sinful and unworthy world can ever hope for his reappearance."

So that, according to her view, our quest for the model husband is a hopeless one. But I do not accept her view. Good husbands are not so rare as they are popularly supposed to be. A few such husbands I have known personally, and I do not doubt that there are women present who are blessed with such husbands.

True as the needle to the pole are these menveritable heroes in the effort they make to keep the dear wife in comfort, and the next thing to angels in the tenderness with which they minister to her. Blessings on such husbands! Some of them have wives who are invalids; and, to the credit of humanity be it said, the strong man bends over the couch of the delicate little woman, and smoothes her pillow, and soothes that aching head, as no other person on earth ever did, or ever could do-save one only. That was the poor woman's own mother; and she isn't on earth any longer; she's in Heaven. Blessings on such husbands!

When the wife weeps, a man of this kind doesn't chide nor fret. He has a few whispered words for such occasions, and then he takes that manly hand of his-never so strong as when used for such a service -and brushes away these tears. When she suffers, he suffers. His happiness is in making his wife happy. The smile of that wife is his sunshine; her virtue; the principle by which he would swear and abide, though moral purity departed from all other women; her love, the center of gravity to all his thoughts, and the full satisfaction of all his earthly aspirations. Blessings on such husbands!

The woman, we will suppose, is a Christian; and the man, we may hope, is following in her saintly footsteps. Probably, in their happy pilgrimage together toward that better Eden of the skies, she will leave him behind some day. Should this so fall out, and should he then raise a stone over her grave, and declare upon it, "Here rests an affectionate wife," the angels, we may well believe, will be near by, and will trace on the same shining memorial a heavenly tribute, which, if mortal eyes could read it, would declare: "And the man she has left to mourn was a good husband." And finally the good husband and the blessed wife will clasp hands in eternal reunion, and enter upon the felicities of an endless honeymoon, ushered in by the marriage supper of the Lamb. Blessings on such husbands! May their kind multiply!

Oh, how many hearts are breaking!
Oh, how many hearts are aching
For a loving touch and token,

For the word you might have spoken !
Say not in the time of sorrow,
"I will soothe their grief to-morrow."
Prove your friendship, lest they doubt it;
Go at once; be quick about it!

-Josephine Pollard.

Original in GoOD HOUSEKEEPING.

THE OLD HOME PLACE. I've been to the old home place, Nell, our nest of youthful days; With tearful eyes I viewed the stage where we played our little plays.

And memories came thronging, Nell, and fancies light as air, Like the autumn tinted woodbine running riot everywhere.

The worn path leading round the house is now o'ergrown with. grasses,

Where once we ran so merrily when we were little lassies. The maple trees are tall and straight outside the broken paling,

Where we swung our bright-hued hammock when we fancied we were ailing.

The dear old home is gray with age the roof o'ergrown with mosses,

As if to cover the decay with soft and downy flosses.
The window panes are minus glass the porch has lost a pillar,
You would not know it as the same when you were Nellie
Miller.

I softly trod the broken floor and when within the portal

I thought of the changes time had wrought leaving me a lonely mortal.

I entered each deserted room my footsteps echoed lightly,
But startled from its fitful nap, a bat that blinked there nightly.

The cobwebs draped the window's ledge and to and fro were trailing.

Like banners in the fitful gloom. Outside the wind was wailing.

I passed into another room that I remembered as so cheery, We always called it "mother's room;" 'twas lonesome now and dreary.

And as I stood within that room a flood of thoughts swept o'er me;

I fancied all was as of yore, my dim eyes seemed to see thee. And then I fancied that the wind was sound of childish

laughter,

That used to make the old house ring from cellar unto rafter.

And I could see your childish face in all its winsome beauty,
And mother in her quiet way engaged in household duty,
And though busy from dawn to night our fun with us was

sharing,

Or telling tales of frontier life when all was new and stirring.

I thought of other childhood days, when our hearts were swelled with pride,

When you hitched up the horse and sleigh to take a moonlight ride.

And then the neighbor children formed part of the picture bright,

And the spelling school that was always held on every Friday night.

Ah, fleeting years, such changes bring, first one and then the other,

We left the old home place and drifted from each other, But life, with its checkered changes cannot dim these pictures. bright

With a sigh I left the doorway and went out into the night. -Clara B. Miller.

Original in GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.

NEW YEAR BELLS.

The moon is bright in the starlit sky,

The night is still and cold;

The bells ring deep from church towers nigh,
As they did in days of old;
They set me sweetly dreaming,

Yes, sweetly and sadly, too,

For the light through my window streaming, Falls fair, on a past loved view.

My locks are white as the moonbeams,

Like drift's of the old year's snow;

Yet hers I know has golden gleams,

As they did long years ago.

It seems, I feel the curls of gold,

But no, she long is dead:

I heard the knells in the church tower old
Greet New Year's as she fled.

Ring, glad sweet bells, not sad sweet bells,
The year new-born to-night,

Scores one more step with chiming knell,
To where I would see the light
Stream softly from her love-lit eyes,
From some sweet niche beyond the skies,
And then when New Year bells ring gay,
Her hand in mine again I'll lay.

*

HIS volume, which is quite neatly gotten up and creditable in appearance, is dedicated "to the millions of thinkers who think in new directions, and to other millions who do not stop to think whether they should 'live to eat' or 'eat to live,'" and is called a practical cook and text-book for general use." But it is more than this. It is a conscientious, earnest plea for the vegetarian diet, for mercy and consideration, for "all that live "-of the lower orders of sentient life, as well as for the human. Not all may agree with the premises and deductions of this author; but so candid a writer should have an equally candid hearing, and to that end GOOD HOUSEKEEPING samples freely both the arguments and the recipes with which the work abounds.

In the Preface, the author says: "To be a health and dietetic reformer in the early days of this movement meant much sacrifice and often personal abuse. We were all pioneers then, mostly enrolled on the chronic invalid list, many of us with one foot in the grave. Correct living lengthened out the days to years. A few of the early laborers still survive, and

*THE FAT OF THE LAND; AND HOW TO LIVE ON IT. Special Chapters on Nuts and Vegetable Oils, and How to Use them in Cooking; Milk; Bakeries; Feeding Infants, and Various Other Subjects Relating to the Food Problem. By Ellen Goodell Smith, M. D., Pansy Park, Dwight, Mass. Cloth, 12mo, 251 pages; $1.50. Published by the Author.

rejoice that the better way is no longer a hard, circumscribed path-hardly respectable-but a broad, beautiful avenue, prolific to overflowing with every desirable, delicious and healthful edible, readily obtainable and easily prepared to properly nourish the entire body; thus rendering it a perfect home for the manifestation of the possibilities of the real individual."

Premising that "facts are stubborn things," she continues: "As a race we have 'been weighed in the balance and found wanting'-deficient in health, morals and longevity. Monuments of granite and marble rise unnumbered above the ashes of immatured and unripened humanity that has been hastened into another world by the errors of this, far in advance of nature's harvest time. Over against these are arrayed the victims of vice, crime, war, disease and intemperance, which constitute the larger proportion of the human race.

"For the protection and conservation of these unfortunates, the humane portion of the world have erected and supported monuments all over the land, and are still constructing them on a broader and more magnificent scale than ever before. These monuments are known as Hospitals, Homes, Jails, Asylums, Reformatories, and Prisons. To build and sustain these monuments filled with living victims, requires not only millions of dollars and heavy taxation, but the still costlier sacrifice of talented men and women, to officer them. In addition there are thousands of other true and useful men and women immured within those walls, who earn a competency by administering to the daily necessities of these un

fortunates.

"We shall not find these unfortunates in the ranks of dietetic and health reformers. Neither from vegetarian homes are they launched into the world of helplessness that taxes our energies to the utmost. Vice begins in half-starved bodies. Crimes owe their parentage to starvation of brain and stimulation of mind and body in the wrong direction; these with unbalanced morals manifested in a multitude of ways, result in crime, war and intemperance. From a vegetarian standpoint, these unhealthful conditions of mind and body are largely propagated, nourished and developed from the never-ending supply of slaughtered meat and its stimulating-not nourishing -accompaniments. The moral and physical health of millions is thus undermined, and from such material is created generation after generation of imperfect human beings, irresponsible for their individual composition, and for which they suffer and transgress in various ways."

The author does not hesitate to arraign those social features with which she is not in sympathy. "Conventional exactions and restrictions," she says, "are the legitimate accompaniments of myriads of fanciful dishes. One or at most two courses at the table have been reinforced by three, five or more at a single meal, with an ever increasing service of table appointments. Laces, ribbons, chiffons, etc., are ob

served in strange company, assisting in the decoration of tables supplied with various fanciful productions of the caterer's art, which usually have a tendency toward hastening us out of this world. instead of preparing us to live in it. The gustatory wants of the race have multiplied far in excess of the needs, which are few and easily supplied. These modern methods have proven disastrous to mistress and maid in thousands of homes, and have caused an unlimited amount of worry and soul degrading, health-destroying labor."

These sentences must impress the thoughtful reader as having a flavoring of common sense, as does the deduction which follows: "A perverted taste has become so universal that we have lost the exquisite, delicate office of the palate, and the flavors of pure food are not appreciated by the masses. To cater to this perverted taste, we take the various foods of nature, spice, season, pickle and otherwise doctor them, never thinking that a momentary gratification in the mouth may lead to disaster in the vital domain. When the effects become apparent in headaches of various kinds, in rheumatic, neuralgic and gouty twinges of nerves and muscles, in 'biliousness,' colic and dyspepsia, we appeal to the potion, powder or dinner pill for a panacea that will rout the supposed enemy, and prepare us for similar indulgence at succeeding meals. If these fail, we call in the family doctor. . . . Curing diseases is worth millions to physicians; curing patients would prove disastrous to the profession."

"The modern cook," says the author in another place, "seems to work upon the plan that the more ingredients she can get into a given article of food the more skillful she is; and the greater variety of made dishes, the more acceptable are her services. There is a proverb that 'it takes a skilled workman to work without tools,' and may not those be the best cooks who can prepare the most wholesome and delicious dishes with few ingredients and the least expense in time, labor, and money? That this may be successfully done, the cook should refuse inferior articles, because in the hygienic processes of preparing food there are no means at hand to disguise the taste or remedy anything which is half spoiled in cooking."

In her strong argument against the use of animal food, after calling attention to the fact that carnivorous beasts are themselves fierce, blood-thirsty, short-lived and untamable for the service of mankind; that meats are very expensive; that millions of dollars are annually spent for the detection and destruction of diseased meat food and food animals, the author turns to the humane side. "Man would seem," she says, "to be the natural protector of the beautiful lower creations, not the unnecessary slayer. The arts and sciences are rapidly developing substitutes for every portion of the animal used for the commercial benefit of man.

"The capture of animals teaches injustice; enslaving them inculcates disregard of inherent rights, and

the feeding and caring for them, the giving and receiving of the natural affection developed by this care-taking association, but emphasizes the duplicity of their later betrayal into the hands of the slayer, and can mean nothing less than moral deterioration, spiritual obtuseness, and an unconscious growing into habits of deception and unfaith. From the smallest insect to the most gigantic beast, from the tiniest bird to the noble eagle, each and all of these so-called lower organizations are endowed with what we are pleased to term instinct as something below our reason. That it often surpasses the intelligence of man, none who have observed the habits of this lower world will deny."

Mrs. Smith carries her "gentle warfare" against. animal food far enough to include all "animal products"-milk, cream, butter, cheese, lard, tallow, and the like; though admitting that it may be desirable to gradually make the change from milk and cream. In most of her recipes, these articles, as well as salt and sugar, are not included; but salt may always be added to taste, and milk may be substituted for water, when preferred. Where fats are necessary, she believes that the vegetable world furnishes those which are infinitely preferable to the animal products; and this belief she supports by candid reasoning and the indorsement of actual test.

The complete and comprehensive way in which her instructions are given leaves nothing to be desired, as witness this formula for the preparation of bread, in which a bread kneader is used:

To Make Yeast Bread.

First be sure the water used is pure, freshly drawn and heated, the utensils clean, and flour or meal of the best quality. In cold weather warm the flour and utensils. Put one fresh yeast cake or its equivalent in a little tepid water to soften. Sift a large quart of any sort of flour which it is desired to use into the mixing bowl; prepare nearly a quart of warm (not hot) water. Now dissolve the yeast; pour half the warm water into the flour, add the yeast, and begin to stir the mixture with a strong spoon, adding water until the dough is about as stiff as you can stir it. She who has a kneader will be the gainer in every way; otherwise, continue the stirring until the dough is a firm, smooth mass, and about as stiff as it would have been if kneaded with the hands. This will make two medium sized loaves.

Turn the dough at once into two small, lightly oiled baking pans. Smooth the loaves with a spoon dipped in oil or water, leaving them a trifle higher in the center than at the ends,‚—or if preferred, turn it upon a slightly floured molding board and deftly form into shapely loaves. Set the bread in a warm place to rise. A small table or shelf, near the range, and on a level with it, is a suitable place; protect it with a clean bread towel, and shield it from drafts by covering with a bread blanket, which may be two or three thicknesses of woolen blanket, that should be often washed and never used for any other purpose.

In about an hour, remove the blanket, carefully turn the pans around and cover with the towel. When sufficiently light, which it should be in an hour and a half or two hours from the time of mixing, if "conditions are right," put at once into the oven, which should be of such heat that the

bread will rise a little more before browning. Bake from forty-five minutes to one hour, and if not a rich brown all over, turn upon the sides and brown; if inclined to burn upon the top, cover with pieces of clean, brown paper. Be sure to bake until done to the center, so that when cut, no odor of fermentation, no soft spot indicating uncooked germs, that will destroy the loaf, are evident to taste or smell. When done, set on end in a cool, airy place; and, as soon as cold, put in a clean bread jar or tin box, and do not cut until at least twelve hours old, but twice that age will be better. This rapid making of yeast bread may be new to many, and some will hesitate to risk it with only once raising, but yeast bread so sweet and odorless can be made by no other method.

A few recipes, formulas, and bits of instruction, taken almost at random, will illustrate some of the valuable characteristics of the work.

Soda and Cream of Tartar.

In using these chemicals, observe the exact rule; one level teaspoonful of soda, and twice that quantity of cream of tartar, which should be thoroughly mixed or sifted in the dry flour. The soda should be dissolved in a little warm water, and added to the mixing liquid. To get a level teaspoonful, fill the spoon and draw a knife across it, thus leaving the bowl of the spoon exactly level full; if one-half a spoonful is desired, divide the level spoonful lengthwise with a knife.

Accuracy in Measuring.

A level spoonful, a rounding spoonful, and a heaping spoonful are different measures, and should not be confused. The level spoonful is secured as heretofore stated; the rounded spoonful rounds above the rim of the spoon as much as it dips below; while the heaping spoonful means as much as will lie on the spoon. Most baking powders give their own measure; but to aid those who deSire smaller quantities of flour. . the baking powder may be proportioned, one level teaspoonful to one level cupful of flour.

Dumplings.

One pint of sifted flour, white or entire wheat, or equal parts of each, and one rounding teaspoonful of baking powder; sift or mix thoroughly together, add sufficient cold water to make a soft dough-like biscuit; drop from a spoon with the aid of a knife-closely together on an ordinary deep pie plate-and set at once in a steamer or steam cooker. Be sure the water boils, and keep it boiling until they are done, which should be in thirty-five or forty minutes. If these are to be eaten with a rich stew of any kind they do not require shortening; if they are to be served with stewed or fresh fruit, shorten with one tablespoonful of vegetable butter. These dumplings should be very light; do not cut, but split them open.

Graham Gems.

First, have a good fire, and if of wood do not let it get low about the time you are ready to put the gems in the oven. Very lightly oil the gem pan and heat it in the oven or on the stove, but do not let it burn. If the oven bakes very quick on the bottom, do not heat the pan too hot, although the rule is "hissing hot," but there are differences in ovens that must be learned. Put two and a half cupfuls of cold water in the mixing bowl, and with the left hand stir into it three level cupfuls of meal; stir the batter with a strong spoon as the meal is added-a shallow wooden spoon is best-then beat briskly for two or three minutes,

standing near an open door or window if possible, in order to incorporate as much fresh air as possible. Drop them by large spoonfuls into the hot pan and put them in a hot oven. Watch them and carefully move them if necessary. If a good deal of crust is wanted, do not fill the pans full, and bake them about twenty minutes. If the pans are full, they will rise from one-fourth to one-half inch above the top, and in from twenty-five to thirty minutes should be well baked. Remove them carefully to a plate, and let them stand a few moments before serving. Never cut unleavened bread when new, but break it carefully apart; if too moist inside, let it stand until nearly cool. Crackers and Wafers.

Into two cupfuls of cold water stir sufficient Graham meal to make a dough quite stiff. Turn out upon the molding board and knead, sifting flour over the dough as kneaded, as it must be very stiff. Roll out one-fourth inch thick or less; cut very small, round, square, or in narrow strips three inches long; prick, and lay on the grate to bake. The heat should be even, baking them through to a delicate crispness.

Wafers are made in the same way, only roll them thin as a knife blade. They will bake in a few moments, and will also burn if not closely watched. These forms of unleavened bread of wheat furnish variety in taste and quality, containing all the elements, the flavor and richness of the grain without adulteration.

Combination Graham Gems.

Graham meal and entire wheat flour in equal parts make very superior gems and rolls. Equal parts of rye or corn meal may also be added to Graham, which should be beaten to a cream. Dried sweet fruits cut fine may be added by way of variety, a half teacupful to a pan of gems, or in any proportion to suit the taste; a dessert spoonful of liquid vegetable butter may be used in a pan of gems made with water, and also a heaping tablespoonful of any kind of finely crushed nuts will shorten a pan of gems.

Nut Gems.

Measure three level teacupfuls of entire wheat flour, and mix with it one heaping tablespoonful of finely crushed nuts-pecan, walnut, Brazil nut, pegnolia, or any kind preferred; add two cupfuls of cold water, beat or stir to a smooth batter; then add one-half cupful or more of cold water to make the batter like sponge cake. Incorporate all the fresh air possible in two or three minutes' beating and stirring, or until it is full of air bubbles; fill the hot gem pans and put at once into a hot oven.

Banana Gems.

Peel and beat to a cream one ripe banana and one tablespoonful of liquid vegetable butter; add to this three level cupfuls of sifted entire wheat flour, and two teacupfuls of cold water; beat and stir until smooth, then add water to make it a little thicker than sponge cake, and incorporate all the fresh air possible in two or three minutes' vigorous beating and stirring. Fill the hot gem pans and bake half an hour. Treat as other gems, but let them cool for ten minutes before serving. Entire Wheat Rolls.

Put a quart of sifted entire wheat flour into the mixing bowl, and add cold water enough to make a stiff dough, but not too stiff or the bread will be hard. A kneader may be used where much kneading is required, as in rolls and crackers, and a superior bread will be the result. If you must knead by hand, dust the molding board with

flour, and turn the dough out clean from the bowl; knead and manipulate the dough as in the hard Graham rolls, cut and bake in the same manner.

Peanut Biscuit.

Warm the mixing bowl, and put into it three teacupfuls of boiling water, one-half cupful crushed peanuts, and three teacupfuls of entire wheat flour; stir into a dough as quickly as possible, and turn clean from the bowl on a well-floured molding board; sift a little flour over it, knead slightly, roll three-fourths of an inch thick, cut and bake on a perforated grate, in a quick oven, half an hour. The nuts can be easily crushed with the rolling pin. All varieties of nuts may be used this way, and circumstances and individual taste will suggest experiments.

Corn Meal and Squash Biscuit.

Take two cupfuls of boiling hot winter squash, mash very smooth, and stir into it sufficient fine yellow corn meal to make a dough stiff enough to handle easily; turn on the floured board and mold into shape; roll an inch thick, cut and bake in a hot oven thirty minutes.

NIGHT WORK FOR TIRED EYES. DREAD the long evenings coming, because I cannot see to either read or sew," is such a common complaint. There has never been a time when glasses have been as universally worn as at the present day. Every one seems to need them, and even with them, many are at a loss what to do to occupy their evenings. Many cannot afford to spend this valuable time in what seems to them a wasteful way, and the suggestions given below are for those.

In our grandmother's time the everlasting knitting, that could be done even in the dark, occupied all the spare moments, and in our mother's time it was the endless carpet rags, but the need of both of these has so diminished as to leave us practically without any work for the "blind man's holiday," and yet if we stop to think during the day, there are many pieces of work which might be left till evening. If there are any old chairs which might be fixed for the bedroom, but for which time would not be found, bring them out some cold night and sandpaper them ready for the work. If done according to almost any of the numerous directions which have been given in GOOD HOUSEKEEPING from time to time, there is scarcely anything that cannot be done by lamplight.

Is there a shelf that needs a lambrequin? Gather up the odds and ends of coarse packing twine about the house and, choosing an open pattern, crochet, with a very coarse hook, enough lace to make a lambrequin about a foot wide. If you have no hook coarse enough, one may be easily fashioned with a sharp knife from a meat skewer or any piece of wood of the proper thickness. When it is finished buy a

package of gold paint, mix very thin and apply with a brush to the lace, covering it as nearly as possible. For those who do plain knitting, there is no reason why they should be idle. From common coarse knitting cotton, wash cloths can be made which are superior to any which can be bought. Cast on a coarse needle as many stitches as can be conveniently held, say eighty, knit back and forth till there are sixty ribs on each side, bind off, and crochet a scallop around. An initial in red may be worked in the corner. By very little practice one can do this work without looking at the stitches, and by the time three or four have been made for each bedroom, and half a dozen for the kitchen wash stand, you will have an array of which to be proud. This work is nice even for pick-up work in the day time, because it is not spoiled if soiled, and can be laid down at a moment's notice. Almost any coarse, plain crocheting or knitting, such as table mats, skirts, bands, etc., can be done at night without any serious strain on the eyes.

If you have any bright scraps of silk or satin, or even woolen, piece them up simply into strips five feet long and two and one-half wide. Wad them thicker than an ordinary comforter, line and tie and you will find it a very comfortable article to throw across the foot of the bed on cold nights. Are you anything of a designer? Conventional patterns for embroidery are easily drawn, and endless suggestions for combinations will be found in the wall paper, book covers, etc.

Try making your own pattern the next time one is needed, and see how much better it can be done than was expected.

Original in GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.

TRY, TRY AGAIN.

-Deldee Croft.

483. For the complexion, flowers of sulphur mixed with milk, and, after standing an hour or two, the milk poured off for use.

484. For warts, lunar caustic. 485. Or, saltpeter rubbed on.

486. Clipping the split ends of the eyelashes once a month.

487. For freckles, one ounce of lemon juice, onefourth of a drachm of borax, one-half of a drachm of sugar, after standing a few days, bottled.

488. Twelve grains of iodine to one-half ounce of lard, for bunions.

489. Acetic acid, applied with a brush, for corns. 490. Muriatic tincture of iron, for soft corns. 491. For a sprain, the white of one egg, stirred to a jelly with alum.

492.

For a cramp in the leg, stretching out the heel as far as possible and drawing up the toes. 493. For a burn, alum water.

494
Or, linseed oil and limewater.
Try again next month.

-Ruth Hall.