Year: 1873

MURMURING. Il was tired of washing
dishes was tired of drudgery. 1t had
always been so, and / was dissatisfied. /
never sat down moment to read that Jamie
didn't want a cake, or a piece of paper to
scribble on, or bit of soap to make bub-
bles. I'D rather be in prison." said one
day, "than have my life teased out So" as
Jamie knocked my elbow, when was writ
ing to friend.


But q morning came when had one plate
less to wash, one chair less to set away in
the dining room; when James little crib
was put away in the garret, and it has never
come down since. / had been unusually
fretful and discontinued with him that damp
May morning that he took the Group.
Gloomy weather gave me the headache,
and had less patience than at any other
time. By-and-by, he was singing in another
room, C want to be an angel; +" and pres
emily rang out that metallic Group. never
hear that hymn since that it don't cut me to
the heart; for the Group cough rings ont
with it. He grew worse toward night, and
when my husband came home he went for
the doctor. At first he seemed to help
him, but it merged into infammatory Group,
and was soon over.


I" | ought to have been called in sooner"
said the doctor.


| have servant to wash the dishes now;
and when a visitor comes, can sit down
and entertain her, without having to work
all the time. There is no little boy worry
ing me to open his jack knife, and there are
no shavings. The magazines are not soiled
with looking at the pictures, but stand prim
and neat on the reading table just as I leave
them.


"Your carpet never looks dirty" say
wearyworn mothers to me.


"Oh, no" | mutter to myself, there are
no muddy little boots to dirty it now"


But my face is as weary as theirs-weary
of sitting in my lonesome parlor at twilight,
weary of watching for the little arms that
used to twine around my neck /; for the curls
that brushed against my cheeks; for the
young laugh that rang out with mine, as we
watched the blazing coal-fre, or made rab-
bits with the shadow on the wall, waiting
merrily together for papa to come home. /
have the wealth and ease / longed for, but
at what price? And when | see other
mothers with grown-up sons driving to town
or church, and my gray hair / think what
might have been, had I murmured less at
the providence of God.


Reader-youDg mother you may be-had
you heard this mother tell her story, you
would have felt disposed with the writer to
say: will be more patient with my little
ones-I will murmur less"


DR.. Philip Karel physician to the EN-
peror of Russia, has record of 200 cases,
treated by himself and others, in which milk
was the chief and often the sole remedy.
He claims that in impoverishment of the
| blood, in all dropsies, asthma, pulmonary
catarrh, neuralgia arising from disorders of
intestinal canal, and in certain diseases of
the liver, milk is the surest and best rem
edy. He gives three or four times day
from two to six ounces OF SKINNED milk,
forbidding all other nourishment.
MoTHs.-The simplest and best way of
preserving woolens through the summer
from the destruction of moths, is to wrap
them well up, after brushing and beating
them, in cotton or linen cloths. The moths
can pass neither. Two covers. well wrapped
around, and secured from the air, will be
sufficient. An old sheet will answer.
Cold SLAw.-Cut the cabbage rather
fine into basin or large bowl; sprinkle
little salt over; then with a potato -masher
thoroughly bruise the cabbage; then take
three tablespoonfuls sugar half pint best
sweet cream four tablespoonfuls vinegar
stir well together and mix through the cab
bage. The cabbage should not be too green.
Many persons do not know the value of
cream in cooking it is far preferable to
butter in great many things. ...,.
A NICE CAKE.- Take two and one-half
pounds flour, one and one-fourth pounds
pulverized white sugar, ten ounces fresh
butter, five eggs well beaten, one-eighth
ounce carbonate of ammonia. one pint of
water. Milk is better, if you have it. Roll
out, cut in cakes and bake. While yet hot,
dredge over with coarse sugar.