The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1908-06-05


men who have organized the antl-tu-
berculosis movement have come out
with the following public announce
ment about sweeping and busting:
when you sweep a room, raise
as little dust as possible, because this
dust, when breathed, irritates the
nose and throat and may set up ca
tarrh. Some of the dust breathed in
dusty air reaches the lungs, making
parts of them black and hard and
useless.
IF the dust in the air you breathe
contains the germs of consumption
tubercle bacilli - which have come
from consumptives splitting on the
floors, you run the risk of getting
consumption yourself.
ITO prevent making a great dust
in sweeping, use moist sawdust on
bare floors. When the room is car
peted, moisten a newspaper and tear
it into small scraps and scatter upon
the carpet when you begin sweeping.
AS you sweep, brush the papers along
by the broom, and they will catch
most of the dust and hold it fast,
Just as the sawdust does on bare
floors. Do not have either the paper
or the sawdust dripping wet-only
moist.
I'm busting a room do not use a
feather buster, because this does not
remove the dust from the room, but
only brushes it into the air so that
you breathe it in, or it settles down,
and then you have to do the work
over again.
Use soft, dry cloths to dust with
and shake them frequently out Of the
window, or use slightly moistened
cloths and rinse them out in water
when you have finished. In this way
you get the dust out of the room >"
The House Beautiful.
WHAT BECOMES OF NEW IDEALS
Anne O'Hagan is writing a series
of papers in Harper's Bazaar which
deserves the thoughtful attention of
every intelligent woman. This month
Miss O'Hagan discusses feminine
ideals, concerning which she is quite
optimistic, as the following extract
shows:
Even ], even you-are not our
ideals compounded with us at last?
Do we not hear the riot of the chill
dren more leniently, more tenderly,
because we, too, were once adventure
ers? Are we not little kinder to
O
we, too, were serious and prosy once?
Can we not discern noble, shy pur-
pose in what looks to unenlightened
eyes like mere pomposity? is not
the workable, everyday honesty,
which is all that we can claim now,
the remnant of that old dream of ours
that dream of utter truth in words
and thoughts and deeds? Was not
all that vast, impossible ideal neces-
sary to give us just this little bit of
ordinary, companionable decency-as
earth and air and April rain and sun
shine and all the vast chemistry of
nature are needed to give you finally
your serviceable vegetable pot?
What becomes of our ideals? Our
ideals are the food that makes us
what we are, that is transmitted into
the very fabric of our being. To the
making of an ordinarily decent man
or woman-5ust an ordinarily, hon
est, kind, unselfish human being-so
many glorious aspirations, golden
dreams, noble intentions, must go, as
to the makingof an ordinarily healthy
person so many proteids, so much al
bumen-so much beef and egg and
butter, in short-must go. After a
certain age a conspicuously idealistic
attitude on the part of the average
human being merely denotes maldi-
gestion, malnutrition. And, on the
other hand, after certain age to be
hard, insincere, vehemently self-seek-
ing, means that youth was nourished
upon no proper diet of ideals. was
starved of what is the chief ingre-
dient of mature character. That is
what our ideals are = the spiritual
food of our youth, and what has be-
come of them is witnessed by the
fibre of our elder natures"