Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-08-02
RUSTIC INCONVENIENCE.
Things One Has to Submit to in the
Country.

Kate Thorn in the New York Weekly
When you start out for your summer rusticat-
ing make up your mind to one thing-you are
not going to have the conveniences Of home
about you by any means. You have got to
submit to great many things that you don't
like. You cannot make even the people or the
place where you are going to suit your ideas.
You will fnd.them all ready made, like a suit
OF clothing at furnishing store, and You must
fit yourself to them and not expect them to fit
themselves to you.
If you go to the seaside, there will be fogs
and rainy days and mosquitoes, and the odor
of fish offal and dead lobster will come up to
your olfactories mingled with the briny smell
of the bounding ocean. The dining rooms will
swarm with flies and no amount of screens
will keep them out. Eternal vigilance is their
watchword, and the man does not live who has
made success of running a summer hotel
without flies. Indeed, We have all become so
used to them that the summer boarding place
without them would be desolate and forlorn.
We should feel as if we had landed on some
uninhabited island, with none OF the modern
conveniences.
You will be sunburnt, and your bathing snit
will not be becoming, and somebody will have
diamonds larger than yours, and there will be
no men worth talking to, and the bills will be
frightful. and the beds will be harder than the
neither milestone, and the springs will be a foot
higher on one side than they are on the other,
and the soap will smell of peppermint and you
will wonder who washed with it before you did,
and all the towels will be damp, and you can't
home and thereby avoided all these discom-
forts. Let this thought sustain you.
II you go to the country you will find that
even in the 'cool, well-shaded farm house, of
the advertisement which allured you life is not
all Paradisean dream. The chambers are
n a hnf n haf avn n0b
to be for any ordinary sinner, and the feather
beds smother you up bodily, and you can take
your choice between them and rye-straw
tick" Most Of the vegetables raised on the
farm go to the market. II you get up early
enough you can see the honest farmer
who runs the boarding house loading up
the best of them and rejecting the poor
ones and leaving them out for use at home.
Is you get into a place where there is one mail
day, think yourself lucky, and learn not to
make a fuss if the daily newspaper does get
left over at some other place. Papers designed
for the country have an unaccountable trick OF
getting cleft over" Don't bother about the
growing of the ROSTERS and the quacking OF
the ducks in the morning. What if these noises
do disturb your morning nap? The roosters
have got to crow and the ducks have got to
quack in spite of you. If you don't relish the
| sound you can 60 home. Be patient with the
tough steak and lenient with the fowl that
composes the chicken pie. Somebody must be
Iouhu able 10 eat up the aged ana venerable
oxen and hens-why not your
! Exercise charity toward the saleratus-
streaked biscuit. Sigh not for the refreshing
ice cream of the city palaces. Be content with
the skim milk Of existence and inhale all the
| air you think you can hold. Air is one of the
commodities on which there is no discount in
the country. 1t cannot be bottled up and sent
into the city and sold--consequently there is
enough of it. You can have all you want.
Take it and be glad. And when you go back
to your comfortable home you will regard the
man who penned Home, Sweet Home" as the
greatest poet that ever lived.