THE LITTLE KINGDOM OF HOME ^ i>-j?/K f. A THE LITTLE KINGDOM OF HOME BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER NEW YORK J. F. TAYLOR & COMPANY J 1 '^.^/IQRd FOREWORD This book Is not for the reference library. It is by no means encyclopaedic, and it has not been written with the view of imparting information. As I have thought of the little kingdom of home, and its ethical bearings, its relation to other homes, to society and the nation, I have had a vision and a dream of its significance and its possibilities. Woman's province, she cannot reign in it alone. Man and woman must unite in the true home. Every home, however unobtrusive, has its motive, its inspiration, and its inevitable effect on contiguous homes. No later institution has supplanted the family. From it all other human organizations take their rise, as flow( from seed, as stream from source. On the intei rity of the family, and the conservatism of home, depend the stability of our republic. Tj flag we love waves to-day in the Far East. S( of our homes have carried it thither. Our wealtl grows greater every year. SoagJ^k^air homesj carry our commerce around the^lSuKSEafen [v!i] .new countries, manage our mines, build our rail- roads. Our sons are the nation's hope. Our daughters are as corner-stones, polished after the similitude of palaces. Education is giving us a race of splendid women, fit to be the mothers of splendid men. But education is worthless, except as it sliall fit both men and women for the quiet life in the home, as well as for the life lived in the open, and before the world. My wish is that this little book may everywhere carry a message of peace and good-will, of uplift, cheer, and courage to the home-makers of Amer- ica, whom may God bless. And so I send it forth, " East or West, home is best." God keep the little kingdom of home. Margaret E. Sangster. [viil] PAGE I. Bride and Groom. The wedding. Found- ing a new home. Facing the future. Comradeship ...... 15 II. Relations-in-Law. Where misunderstand- ing may arise. Gentle breeding and its demands ....... 31 III. Where Shall the Home Be? In board- ing-house, or in a real home? How to determine this question and similar ones . IV. How Shall THE Home Be Furnished? A plea for comfort and simplicity, and for the real things that have real uses V. The Coming OF Children. The coronation of marriage. When joy-bells ring. The mother's happy hour .... VI. The Training of Children. Funda- mental principles most important. Chil- dren should be trained in obedience, truth, and honor. The home stamps them for life VII. Bricks without Straw. Financial policy of the home. Tlie wife's right to share the income. A common cause of trouble ; unwise domestic financiering VIII. The Earnings of Married Women. Pres- ent condition of the labor market. Desire of women to earn 49 53 77 IX X. XI. reasons against it as hampering the home- maker ....... High Lights of Happiness. Mutual confi- dence. Entire sympathy. A common aim. Going on together. Never a quarrel that is not at once made up ... . The Young People. Their rights and privileges. The good times they have. Sons and daughters ..... Red-Letter Days. Happy anniversaries. Mile-stones vphere we thank God and take courage. Merry Ckristmas, Happy New Tear The Sinister Influence of Worry. Evil effects of overanxiety. Futility of worry. Away with foolish melancholy . The H»use of Feasting. Home hospi- ty. Guests and what they bring us. Iferent sorts of entertainment House of Mourning. The dark angel 'the door. Sorrow. Lonely days. Fu- arrangements. Grief's meaning and SpnfH _ f • * ■ • • • • Quej^ncIf One's Own Kitchen. Just hopaely housework. Tlie independence of knowing how to do it. The comfort of it by one's self .... ih AND IfoiLERS. About the cess. Wrong concep- ^lem not yet solved. 141 157 173 189 205 221 237 Need of concession common sense ...... XVII. The Nobility of Service. Have we no occasion to reconstruct our ideas ? Are we right in regarding service as degrading ? XVIII. Home and Charity. The relation be- tween home and outside beneficence XIX. Home and the Flag. Some present-day problems, and the relation of the home to patriotism ...... XX. The Ideal Home for a Child. Essen- tials and non-essentials. The nest. The brooding of the mother's wing XXI. Early Religious Teaching. When should it begin? "What should we teach? Our children God's children . XXII. The Library. The place of books in the home. Their purchase and housing. The good they do. Their permanent value. ....... 337 XXIII. Two Friends of the Family. Physician and nurse. Their intimate and special connection with the home XXIV. The Fine Armor of Courtesy. Polite- ness as a defense against ill-temper and an armor of proof in social intercourse . XXV. A Little Music Now and Then. Home minstrelsy. Something to betjiadd for the amateur . XXVI. Second Marriage. Not tinged witli ear^ xi 2G7 27 !» 295 309 323 XXVII. XXVIII. 439 XXIX. XXX. liest romance but often successful. Hearts may have a second spring. The stepmother ...... 401 The Place of the Spinster. Her niche one that she fills acceptably. No reproach upon single women. Her value in the home and in society . 423 Prodigal Sons. The child who goes astray. The temptations that most easily assail the weak. What should be the family attitude toward the erring one ...... Of Broken Homes. Divorce and its menace to the stability and security of the republic. Its calamitous effect on children. Urgent reasons against its toleration and frequency . . .451 The Old Folk at Home. Grand- mother's home the children's earthly Paradise. Spending vacations in the home. Propriety of old folk retain- ing their home intact. How to treat the old. Home and Heaven . . 463 L'Envoi 481 xit Tie ^^^ Little Kingdom of Home CHAPTER I. Bride and Groom IT is a familiar pageant, that fair procession which passes between pews thronged with sympathizing and adoring friends, up the aisle to the chancel rail, down the aisle again to the wide world beyond the church doors. The solemn sweetness of the wedding march, the reverential cadences of the minister's voice, the terse brevity of the marriage ceremony, the beauty of the bride, the pride of the groom, the pleasurer^ and the splendor of it all, its innocent pomps ar vanities, the gaiety of the occasion, several contribute to form one of the most impress! spectacles of society. Wherever the wedding take place, with simple or elaborate ritual, wi accessories of costly display, orjwjth absolute limit of expense to actual necesj [15] The Little Kingdom of Home .own home where she has grown to womanhood, at the minister's house with a witness or two, in the grand cathedral, or in the village chapel, the two contracting parties are the centre of obser- vation. If the gazer's admiration is focussed on the maiden in her white garments and her shadowing veil, and if the whisper of interest be rather for her than for him who receives her as the prize for which he has longed and waited, that is as it should be. The wedding-day is the day of girlhood's coronation. The bride leaves behind her the morning land of school and play, the period of tutelage, the shelter of parental care, and enters, of her own accord, in love's sweetest surrender, into a bondage which, being love's, is by a strange paradox a dignified and noble emancipation. No longer under authority, she slips her hand in complete equality into the of her husband, and they two, no longer but one, in the independence which is born ipendence, mutual and serviceable, begin a life. le groom is not overlooked, though, on the lis role is that of courtier nearest >men observe him critically, won- [i6] dering, hoping, prophesying what sort of husband/j he will be. Men, married and single alike, give him their congratulations, silent or worded; he seems to them a lucky fellow to have won so charming a mate. A groom at once modest, manly, and happy, showing in countenance and manner that he is glad and grateful, boastful- ness of the victor toned with an underlying feeling of responsibility, a groom whose air is at once deferential and protecting, appeals to the friendly group in church and at the recep- tion. He carries their best wishes with him. I never attend a wedding without a new real- ization of its deep meaning, its immense possi- bilities for good or ill. I do not wonder that fathers and mothers, on both sides, have usually a little struggle to be cheerful, when their children so bravely set forth on the road, th trodden by comrades, will seem short thoirg- it lead from youth to gray hairs; that, trodden by the uncongenial, will be but a tedious prispp,; march with dragging ball and chain. The bri mother is living over again her far-off day//6f bliss, and she knows, though she may havo6Rad a well-nigh unclouded e '>S ^ '"%■ The Little Kmgdoiu of Home ^«^^Ler will not all at once find the rose of Eden/ im/ nor all at once, nor ever, find life without a shade or a thorn. A great tenderness floods her soul as she sits in the pew and hears the words that give her darling to the watch and ward of an- other. The mother of the groom, on her part, is often the victim of apprehension. She knows her son, she has anticipated his every want, from the day of kilts and curls to this day that takes him from her. As the old couplet runs : Tour son's your son till he marries a wife, four daughter's your daughter all the days of her life." the groom fights down a little f which she is ashamed, as she ad- he cannot now be first with her son, ife will hereafter reign beside him, ;Omes a dowager. oom, fortunately, in the preoc- d absQjpgtionof their peculiar delight ssing one an<5t1ifer, are supremely indif- ^nt of the mingjp^ fe^Jings of their families. -Their felicity as they^ start on the wedding-jour- ey is untouched l^^^^]:j^nchecked by caution, v^ ^f^r [i8] Bride and Groom unbroken by questioning thought. The weeks^^' and months of courtship have made them, they'"^' fancy, fully acquainted with one another, and the dominant purpose of each is to give the other joy. Setting out with a capital of health, confidence, hope, youth, and true love, they have no dread of the future, and their present shines in radiance, like nothing they will ever see again on earth. The torch of such love as theirs was kindled in heaven. They are about to begin the most important and far-reaching work given by God to human- ity. Theirs it will be to found a family, and to build a home. Themselves the product of fami- lies founded before them, heredity, training, education, environment, and social atmosphere have made them what they are. The home they make will partake of much they have^.,;^ learned and felt in their past lives, but it wj be essentially different, individual, and ne^ Every new family has its own characteristi^l just as every child w^ho comes into the wortdf is stamped with its own personality, though ^W;'^ 4? line and feature it may show a blending, or ^j repetition of ancestral lineaments:..Si^^iJistinctiv,i [■9] fiiytsA (ti§t^xases she^ ought, range herself on the side** [35] The Little Kingdom of Home ci Fathers-in-law are on the whole much less apt to bring clouds to the home sky than are mothers- in-law. Little things pass unnoticed by unob- sen^ant men. They take no heed of trifles. To women trifles are important. Of course, when parents are aged and feeble, and a marriage must be indefinitely postponed unless the pair shall begin their life in the home- stead, the best should be made of the situation. In many cases, the outcome is, on the whole, agreeable. In many others, it is distinctly and pitifully the reverse. If it is duty, it must be accepted and borne with. " Duty, stern daughter of the voice of God," must be obeyed at any cost. But let it be duty clearly defined, not mistaken sentiment. Marriage is the union of two individuals, and the ideal family starts with two individuals who her begin their home. Take a single exam- A young woman brought up in a city, with knowledge of conditions on a farm, and no uaintance with the drudgery that must be ac- d by women who do their own work in ^(iroU'R^j^^a^^^and in houses that have no modern coiwebi^iw^/RO hot and cold water on tap, no [36] gas or electricity, no furnace heat, none of the^^^ apparatus for domestic management that are commonly found in the houses of rich and poor in town. This girl, spending a summer vacation in the hills, meets a manly young fellow, who falls in love with her. She returns his love. In time, after much correspondence and one or two brief visits, they become engaged, and are duly married. The young farmer is an only son, and the farm is a good property. In the ample old house, so airy and cool in summer, so draughty and chill in winter, live the parents, who have spent forty years under that rooftree, live also two or three maiden sisters, who have no other home. Rooms are fitted up for the bride, her welcome is cordial, and the women of the family receive her into their circle with motherly and sisterly kindness. It does not take very lon| to demonstrate the fact that the city girl canH fit smoothly into the new niche. If she holds her- self aloof, keeps to her own apartment, and offi^^^^ no assistance in the household work, she se^^^^' plainly that she is an interloper, who adds to me family burdens instead of diminishinsf jfcfeeir weight. If she timidly The Little Kingdom of Home <5 in either case her lack of knowledge awakens surprise, and her awkwardness elicits unfavorable comment. She possibly has none of the deftness and skill which are as second nature to women who have been to the manner born. In circum- stances so unfavorable, with a husband who gen- erally cannot give her much help, the young wife fades and loses her bloom, her health, and her gay spirits. Sometimes she is obliged to assume t|ie office of nurse and caretaker to a selfish in- did. Sometimes she endures for weary years le fault-finding and caprice of uncongenial peo- fe, who always feel her to be an alien and outside^'^nd not of their clan. She is lold her own. It may easily happen emancipation shall never arrive until the cord that binds her, releasing her lome that had been almost a prison. je the old people themselves away, free. She has borne the hardest irrow injustice. When, i^ive^i people are uniformly rust. COTitentment will fold her there, bave her mother, nor can a man Invariably forsake the home of hi^ kith and kin. Where duty is relentless, there must be either an indefinite engagement, which is extremely trying, or accommodation to circum- stances. Who cannot think of homes that might have been utterly without a flaw, that had in them every prospect for the development of the finest and loveliest virtues, thrift, generosity, hospital- ity, affection, yet have never been other than dwarfed, stunted, and shadowed, because of the presence of uncongenial kindred who should have been sheltered elsewhere ? I have seen weary eyes closed, weary hands folded, and youth tired out in the race, laid under the daisies or the snow, when a little common sense, a sterner effort of protest, would have changed the condition and, made life beautiful and given it a longer term. : No statement can cover all phases of home or describe every possibility. Broadly speak] young people are better alone, in their eS; trials and triumphs, and may far better work^ their problems unaided. When this is imprr ticable, it is well for the young \^feto rememb that there cannot be two wd^ierihsi^^l^ hea ' ' house. One must take control. Suggestions and advice may be amiably given and taken, but responsibility cannot be shared. A great deal of friction will be avoided if, in the home life, there be no needless tyranny, no petty interference, if either the mother, who has the home already, maintain her sway, or abdicate, handing the sceptre to the wife, whose entrance should bring only joy. Apart from actual residence in the same house, much of the pleasure of life may result from a strong family feeling and frequent meetings of kith and kin. Aunts and cousins and brothers and sisters may be the greatest help where the circle is wide and gatherings of the clans are family festivals. It is not pleasant social inter- course, but the attrition that comes of being too ^continually together and too closely in contact, is to be dreaded. ''hy this very radical house-cleaning, this shing and furbishing and strenuous prepara- ? " I asked a young housewife. " Your home rwaYS,:,-m^^der ; why tire yourself by super- ' , 2i^ffl^l;^ation of this sort?" ^luint Kate is coming to spend a week," [40] ^as the brief reply, with a flicker of amusement in the brown eyes and a tightening of the Hps, that was succeeded by a ripple of low laughter. " You know," she said, " that John's people are notable, and my people are not. I wouldn't have a speck of dust or dirt in the house while Aunt Kate is here for half of my next quarter's allowance. She would be certain to see it and pity John." *' I wish," observed a well-meaning sister-in- law, " that poor Eugene were treated by his wife as he was always treated at home. Everybody and everything gave way to him there. Mother brought up her girls to wait on her boys. But Sally actually orders the poor fellow about, and makes fun of his little ways, until I feel like screaming, I am so annoyed." A visiting sister-in-law, in this mood, even i^ she have the grace to repress speech, is apt produce a sense of thunder in the atmosphere A man or woman who is aware of a subtle wit drawing from his or her relations-in-law, who sorry when the time comes for a visit from the and wears penitential s^i^cloth next the si consequence, while the^ f) )^y The Little Kingdom of Home ci i by marriage keep on being a discipline, shoulii^ exert every power of self-control to conceal and suppress the antagonism that hammers at the heart's gates. It is ill-bred and unkind to mani- fest a churl's ungraciousness when company must be invited or welcomed, and the husband who makes his wife uncomfortable when her people visit her is not wholly a man of gentle breeding, nor does his wife show herself that finest product ^of modern training, a lady, when she suffers her- self to reveal dislike or contempt toward her husband's people. Before the irrevocable choice las been made, it is wise to think whether or ^not theneW^relatives shall prove pleasant or the ^pposire/ Once the marriage vows are spoken, '^tck;^ late to canvass the matter. Relations taken as they are. A home is so sacred lat no pettiness of motive, no meanness, should be allowed to creep in and he little foxes that spoil ^ man of old. ufferii^s of life, its superfluous dlK^umerable small mosquito- 'darts of worry that beset the unshielded heart, art enough to awaken angeHc pity. " Meek souls there are who little dream Their daily life an angel's theme, Nor that the rod they bear so calm In heaven may be a martyr's palm." No finer example of impossibility of blending, where the types are distinct and there is little in either to attract the other, has been shown in recent literature than in " The Mettle of the Pasture." Pansy, Dent Meredith's affianced wife, makes her first call on the mother of her be- trothed. Mrs. Meredith, high-born, high-bred, a woman of quality the finest and the rarest, ac- cepts, as only such a woman may, the bride her son has chosen. She is clear-sighted. She is kind. She sits and thinks of Pansy, as Pansy is drive^ home in the stately Meredith family carriaj Poor mother, so honest and so disturbed ! " She makes mistakes, but she does not kt how to do wrong. Guile is not in her. SI so innocent that she does not realize sometimes peril of her own words. She is pi^i^d,,^ a grea^ deal prouder than Dent. To h'tSCilfiwylJ^ons [43] ^fi The Little Kingdom of Home and duty; more than that, it means love. She is ambitious, and ambition in her case would be indispensable. She did not claiyn Dent, I appre- ciate that. She is a perfectly brave girl, and it is cowardice that makes so many women hypo- crites. She will improve, she improved while she was here. But, oh ! Everything else ! No fig- ure, no beauty, no grace, no tact, no voice, no hands, no anything that is so much needed. And if she only would not so try to expose other peo- ple! If she had not so trampled upon me in my ignorance, and with such a sense of triumph. I was never so educated in my life by a visitor. The amount of information she imparted in half an hour, how many months it would have served the purpose of a well-bred woman. And her pride in her family, were there ever such little brothers and sisters outside of the royal family! her devotion to her father and remembrance er mother. I shall go to see her, and be ived, I suppose, somewhere between the grid- and the churn." bor Parjsy on her part went home and re- ct^/^-^^Oor, homespun child! if M the edge of her bed, and new [44] .fight brought new wretchedness. It was not, ^j.{^ after all, quantity of information that made the chief difference between herself and Dent's mother. The other things, all the other things, would she ever acquire them? Finally the pic- ture rose before her, of how the footman had looked as he held the carriage door open for her, and the ducks had sprawled all over his feet, and she threw herself on the bed, hat and all, and burst out crying with rage, grief, and mortifi- cation. " ' She will think I am common,' she moaned, ' and I am not common. Why did I say such things? It is not my way of talking. Why did I criticise the way the portrait was hung? And she will think this is what I really am, and it is not what I am. She will think I do not even know how to sit in a chair. She will tell Dent, and Dent will believe her, and what will of me?'" A better illustration of the sometime ciliability of relatives-in-law has seldom given. But what Dent said the next day " Pansy, you have won my mother's Happily for both wc w of her own kind, they did not have to spend their , hves together. When natures as incapable of minghng as oil and water are forced to abide between the same four walls, it takes almighty power and the grace of God continually bestowed to enable them to live decently and in peace. [47] 'HEY have come again to the apple-J Robin, and all the rest, When the world of the orchard is fair to In the snow of the blossoms dressed. W/Knd the prettiest thing in the land wil| The building of the nest. [48] Where Shall the Home Be? NOT if it can be avoided in hotel or board- ing-house, or any pubHc caravansary. The nomad stamp is on every such house of accommodation to travellers, and it is not best that a wedded pair should start in life as pilgrims and sojourners. A real home, though consisting only of two rooms, is to be preferred to a make- shift, and the finest inn in the world is but a makeshift masquerading as a home. Admirable for the road, inadequate as a place of residence. For one thing, the bride who begins her mar- ried life in a boarding-house has too much time on her hands. Her trousseau is so complete that she has no need to use her needle. Everyth in her own and her husband's wardrobe is new^ so she has no mending to do. The mistres the house is responsible for the household mal agement, and the bride has no sweeping, or d ing, or catering, or cooking to occupy her ei^tv day. She drifts into ""^^i contented gossip with her fellow boarders, finds <^^ recreation and diversion in purposeless engage- ments, gives too many hours to mere amusement, card-playing by daylight, endless novel-reading, or mere pastimes. In their place and time, noth- ing is to be said against agreeable recreations, but when they form the entire business, and fill the wasteful leisure of a woman's days, they are too frivolous, and too fruitless to be wholesome, esides the division of labor is manifestly unfair, n has slipped into harness at once. He works 1 day over his ledger, or behind his counter, rks to the point of drudgery, and comes home althfully^^t^^d at night. His wife, having layed jfi^butterfly during the same number of ts him in her dainty frock, her flower- plifted for his kiss, but they have no Mjtude in which to take their evening jcim^n which to talk over the incidents paration. In the costly hotel they dine waiters bringing deli- ;hing music in the boarding-house, their s^out against the preva- rounded by derelicts, with e ibod, and ground,^ thful brigh oum women whose garb of black, betokening widow- ^ hood and lonehness, or spinsterhood and slender means, being in the large majority. The tiniest city flat, the most diminutive suburban cottage, is to be preferred by the pair beginning married life to the most sumptuous quarters where they have little privacy and few duties. Blessed is the bride who goes directly to a home of her own and spends her honeymoon there. In selecting a locality, the means of the couple must be borne in mind. Provided the husband's business exacts from him long hours, beginning early and ending late, he must not be too far from his work. A home should be found within a distance that will tax neither his purse nor his strength too heavily. Tlie choice may be in an unfashionable region down-town, if the man work in a large city. There are side streets which w once fashionable, but which have lost their pre tige in the changing conditions of the town, here rooms may be obtained, or even a whc house, at a figure impossible in other neighbc hoods. Or, if a suburb, reached by electric cars oj a ferry, be chosen, the little home^mavbe begu in a pleasant environment, witl^p^f^^J||^js, [51] i-^^K The Little Kingdom of Home of garden, the quiet of the country and its fra-. grance and sunshine. The first consideration must be, what can be afforded, and the next, what de- cision will best serve the convenience of the man who earns the daily bread. These questions answered, it is next worth while to look at one or two other aspects of the case. Is the new home near a church of the de- nomination to which you belong, or near any which you would like to attend? As citizens and householders, you naturally wish a church home. Most Americans have been brought up in the sweet traditions of piety, their early homes built on that rock of righteousness, inscribed in the dim centuries of the past, by the prophet Micah, "To do justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly with thy God." Some there are who, having been overstrictly held in hand during Idish years, suffer from reaction when they are grown, and neglect religion and its obligations, but they are fortunately few. Most of those whose neglect of piety is open and defiant in this land of ours, are of foreign birth and upraising. AiTieriraOSQ^e it to their country as well as to ear God and keep his command- [52] ments, and so, in selecting a place for a home, they will not go too far from a church where they may worship. If they decide to build, and have a home ex- pressing their own wishes, and fulfilling their own intentions as a hired house cannot, they will look to situation, drainage, and the probable health of the surrounding country. To spend money on accessories and neglect essentials is exceedingly unwise. Ask yourselves, if you are young houseseekers, what you most want? One answer will be, a fireplace, another a veranda, another a view. The man will plead for a good dry cellar, the woman for plenty of closets, both, if they are sensible, will insist on the best avail- able sanitary plumbing. The parlor is of little consequence; in these days parlors are passing away, but a generous living-room, where ther may be window-seats and sunshine, and growin plants, and books, easy chairs, and a piano sho be in the architect's plan. A good-sized kitch with separate laundry, more than a single bat room, and hardwood floors are among the mod^n requisites. The sooner (g^punjg, cpuoje ^ build their own home, ' * ^^ ment in the soil, the surer is their outlook for- permanent settlement. Otice having established a home, the temptation to move for some slight fancied betterment of conditions should be resisted. People waste their substance by too many and too frequent removals. Occasionally it becomes a duty to pull up stakes and pitch the tent elsewhere. If a man's business engagements force him East, West, North or )uth, his household must follow his fortunes, it to move merely for caprice, to gratify a whim, to gain a doubtful advantage, is foolish and :travagant. Bewap^^f living beyond your means. A (ver living expenses is symbolic of md a pledge of independence. Mr. 's wretched policy of mortgaging the npating every penny, living forever idge of debt, and never accumulat- the^^rainy day, is one to be ize peace of mind and ^village blacksmith, in )em, wno could " look the whole )wed not any man," is )elted earl or gallant knight with a string of unpaid bills as long as the list of his titles. The home may be large or small, but let it be the home that suits the income. Simplicity is the key-note of happy living. Stri- ving for display, attempting to surpass one's neighbors, incurring obligations that cannot be immediately paid on the presentation of the accounts, are among the greatest blunders young people can make. " Mr. Micawber," said his patient wife, writing to David Copperfield, " is morose: he is severe." Why not, poor man, with creditors descending on him in battalions, and his roseate hopes of independence ever van- ishing in gray mist? Wherever the home is, let it be Kroadly based on uncompromising integrity. City or country, farmstead or hamlet, seashore or inland town, Florida or Maine, the rule must be the same, i. is the home one can afford that is really Ho Sweet Home. We should not forget that home is the m refuge and the woman's intimate domain. The English, who are especially a home-lovin race, say that a m&n's house is hi^^^tle. Ex- cept as he invites them, peo^fre'*93^'^t!^ inva< Englishman's home nor intrude upon his privacy. Among us, there is possibly a little less appre- ciation of the blessedness of home privacy. This is the natural outcome of our living too much under the hammer of the auctioneer, being tenants at the will of the real estate owner, and moving from house to house so often and for pretexts so slight. Those who are what a clever author has denominated " van dwellers," can hardly taste the full sweetness of a home that hides itself under the trees that have guarded genera- tions, that hears the cawing of the rooks in ancient belfries, that nestles beneath immemorial elms, and hears the birds sing, as they sang hundreds of years ago. Some effect of perma- nency we may reach after, and some effect attain, ^garding our homes as ours, by making them of pleasant and dignified hospitality, and Irrounding them, when they are in the ^try, with gardens and trees. ]ey who have some interest in the soil, some jst t^^jfif^, some vineyard, some field to ^atch>Jp^flS§J^I5^ering of bulbs and hardy annuals [56] to await, some trees to love, will not too easily or too often change their places of residence. When first establishing a home, there is happi- ness in dwelling among people whose means and style of living approximate one's own. The clerk or travelling salesman, the rrian of modest though fixed income, is unwise to choose his home in a locality, however convenient, that is the stately camping-ground of wealth and fashion. Go to the hamlet farther on, by preference. In a provincial town where few people have wealth, and equally few have poverty, the conditions are peculiarly enviable. A college town, near a me- tropolis, furnishes an exceedingly pleasant back- ground for the quiet homes of refined people who desire " plain living and high thinking." Next to this comes a suburban village, where people of moderate means have homes of simila size and equipment. This affords opportunit for sociability, for neighborly kindness, and tli sort of agreeable acquaintance that grows wi the years, into stable and delightful friendship. The seamy side of city life is in the aloofne^ of neighbors. One may .be a tenant in a^fithe apartment-house, under the broad roof of which The Little Kingdom of Home •many families live, yet may scarcely know by sight others in the same building. The joys and sorrows of those about one are of small moment when one lives in a flat, and it is precisely the same thing whether it be a cheap five-room affair in a back street, or a palatial edifice in a fashion- able quarter. The spirit of good neighborhood flies from a flat. While one does not wish one's home to have open doors for the continual pro- ^sion of visitors, one does sometimes long for a lendly face ; in the crucial periods of family ex- frience or the occasional domestic crises, or times len little worries crowd, " better is a neighbor is ntzx^,,,^^n a brother that is far off." )t understand," said a bride, who had been a member of a large family, bringing up had been in a village j>le ran in to borrow a cup of milk teaspoonful of vanilla when they sufpplies short, where women took tsewlng aft^^^^^ and passed an hour ^oppos^^^^^^rs, exchanging good- ily gossip, " I cannot ^dure a great town." ^big apartment-house, where she was all day alone, told heavily upon, her health and spirits. She could not accustom herself to city isolation. A dear gentlewoman, whom many loved, solved the problem for herself. A child of the country, she brought to the city her rural friendliness, and kept it all her life. In her older years, when she was feeble, her sweetness was unabated, old and young sought her; she was the confidante of lovers, and the adviser of the perplexed. The maids who waited on her were adoring in their service. When, early one winter's morning, she heard God's call to come home, and slipped like a snowflake from this world into another, there was mourning everywhere, for a home lost to great and small, as a place of retreat, an ark for the storm-tossed, as well as for a beautiful soul gone hence. [59] [6.] /mV OT in the pomp of rich adorning, Nor in pride of heart's desire, Shall we sit around our fire ^In our dear home's earliest morning. )imple lives are happiest; jplendor is for palace halls. ^^Comfort be our chosen guest, '""Here within our sheltering walls. [62] CHAPTER IV. How Shall the Home Be Furnished? TO her new home the bride carries, as her special contribution to its furnishing, a well-chosen stock of household linen. This may be extensive or limited, according to her purse. Dainty linen in generous quantity is a source of great pride and much comfort to a womanly soul. The finest napery is not too ele- gant to please a fastidious housekeeper, yet there are times and seasons, and she who is forehanded and thrifty usually keeps something of the best in reserve in her linen-closet, so that, on occa- sions of moment, her table may be royally spread, and her guest-chamber delicately adorned. Goo^ linen is a treasure worth possessing, and a line chest, fully supplied with every requisite in ^ line, is a sumptuous gift to any bride, a gif bride always highly values. In other lands, Germany, Holland, France, and Austria, th bridal-chest of fine linen is thou^t of by the> mother when the little maiden iS^bom, ai^ wt [63] ^■M The Little Kingdom of Home ^ : she is still a babe in her cradle, the fond mother^ begins to spin and weave and lay away in fra- grant lavender the linen the girl will have as a part of her preparation for wifehood. From the flax-fields, or the cotton-fields, come the sheets and pillow-slips, that, whitening in the sun, hold the sweetness of outdoor air and the blessing of the open sky. From the wide acres where the wind fanned, and rains wet, and dews refreshed, and sunshine fed it, comes the cloth for the home table. Refined by the rough proc- esses of the machinery that separate and tear and finish and finally newly create it, with a sheen of silver on its face, and a pattern of snowdrop, lily, rose, diamond, scroll, or block inwoven cunningly, nothing is more fascinating to touch and handle, nothing so charms a woman's very soul, as fine linen. - -. ., The peasant mother and the queen, the gentle- an in her castle, and the tradeswoman behind counter, alike, in the old lands across the sea, rsonally superintend the wedding outfit of the ighter, and the beginning is made early, so that, b^.-^^r, the store is increased. Something like'^hift/'feiSxJa hoarding of sentiment that should [64] iHow Shall the Home be Furnished m s2/ be like perfume from a hundred sweet memo-, ries and associations, might well be done for the bride of the future by our American mothers. All the plenishing need not be of actual linen, for cotton sheets and pillow-slips are in very general use, and, when fine and of good quality, are as appropriate as are linen sheets, to which many object because they are colder, and, to a degree, smoother. Some prefer the surface of cotton cloth to that of linen. Every bride should have a few linen sheets for summer use and for state occasions, even if she seldom brings them forth in common days. It is better, if economy must be consulted before marriage, to have fewer gowns and wraps, a less ample ward- robe, and fewer changes of underclothing, with not so much elaboration of lace and embroidery, and to take to the new home an outfit of house- hold napery which shall last for a year or vc\ox-k and form a foundation for a well supplied linen- closet hereafter. The prudent housekeeper never allows her Hn( supply to become scanty. From year to year adds to it, now a dozen napkins or towels, aa?am a new table-cloth, or sevt¥h1 pairs d£>sfte5 >'r~*< f^. The Little Kingdom of Home ^ if she be a good manager, she uses her things^ ^^j according to system, the oldest first, and the rest in order. Old linen should be carefully preserved, as in emergencies it may be useful, particularly in case of illness or accident. The husband's share in the furnishing is to provide carpets and curtains, rugs, chairs, bed- steads, tables, crockery, and the whole parapher- nalia of household goods, including the pots, pans, ttles, and other utensils requisite in the kitchen, ilver and glass and china are so often given as ^edding presents, that it is as well to omit them om the list-^made out in anticipation of the appy e^^. Indeed, most young people find mselves provided with plenty of silver through generosity of their respective families, who 1 that this portion of the furnishing belongs them.v'^^^Che custom of giving presents at wed- mgs is^'*^^^5ncient, and is confined to no com- umty had#sbrt of equipm race. ^- Ij: would seem that the new ion from families preceding to4pok for the more ornate 't to those who have sent it out hose traditioj^itjvi^ carry on. [66] 3 f^r ow Shall the Home be Furnished? The properties of the home would better be^,; simple, and in furnishing the young people should ' build from the kitchen up. A well-furnished house has a kitchen supplied with every article used in the preparation of food and for the other work that belongs there. Next, the bedrooms should have whatever is for comfort and health. This part of the furnishing need never be elab- orate, nor, indeed, very costly. But here let money be expended, not for show, not in carved wood and elegant upholstery, but first, as indis- pensable, on the beds. A good bed has a soft, elastic mattress and an approved spring. Hard, lumpy beds, tightly stuffed pillows, and neglect of the ease and refreshment a bed should give, are, in these days, unpardonable mistakes, not to say inexcusable sins. The old fashion of sleeping in a billowy heap^, of feathers, rising mountain high when the bq was made by day, sinking valley deep when tl slumberer plunged into the couch at night, I shade of light gray. Yellow gives an effect of sunlight : a touch of yellow in a sunless room always brightens it. Flowers and scrolls and paper sprinkled with gilt and silver are never decorative. A plain cartridge-paper, with frieze and dado of strong contrast to relieve it, will make a hall or reception-room attractive. As a rule, red should be avoided in bedrooms. It is a good tint for a dining-room, or for a living-room that is situated on the exposed side of the house, where cold winds shake the panes. While a cheerful pattern of vines and roses, or pink poppies on a white background, or daisies scattered on a field of light green, may be pretty for a sleeping-room when one is in health, and, though the furniture and draperies may be chosen as to correspond with such a paper, it is more the trying when one is ill. Not without careful col sideration have physicians dispensed with pictuj and ornaments, and selected neutral colors for walls of hospital wards and private rooms, patient recovering from an operation, or conv; cing from fever, is great of gilt arabesques, or sei and meandering lines, while flowers may become" to such an one a deadly nightmare. A sleeping- room should have only essentials, and its furniture of every kind, beginning with the walls, should be of the simplest and least obtrusive kind. An invalid is sometimes almost frantic in a cluttered, over-ornamented room. Hardwood floors are to be preferred to any other, and rugs to carpets. A carpet nailed to floor was formerly supposed to be the acme desire, but most people now appreciate the vantages of rugs, which may be easily taken up d shaken, ^nd of a house which never requires e eartlrcjpake of the old-fashioned house-clean- «h-me passing of the parlor, once so sacred 'ro9m.J^hat its precincts were regarded with G^^^j^en, and its closed doors enshrined e hotrselS&i^ holy of holies, a different idea has ol stained swa:;^>4ii,,^r homes. The parlor l^as a place of d^nity; c«ten of literal chill and reezing isolati^fep^In-Saome families it was L6d,otlty~C)l£-inomentous occasions, as a wed- g or a funeral. ^^^^(^...smiltlike gloom and an almost sepulchral atmosphere invested some rural [70] parlors, and one stepped out of them, with their solemn photographs or portentous family por- traits on the walls, and their horsehair chairs and sofas, slippery and uncompromising, into the easy- going sitting-room, where people lived and worked and laughed and chatted, with the relief of persons released from prison. Blessed be shab- biness of a certain kind. Parlors in our grand- mother's days were never shabby. They were stiff, formal, majestic; they were places in which to reflect on the vicissitudes and the uncertainties and mutations of this mortal life. Fortunately, nobody now need have a drawing- room, a parlor, or a reception-room unless she very much prefers it. A great lady with a great establishment may have such rooms en suite. The majority of us, who prize space and study econ omy, are happy in a living-room which m combine the best features of library and drawin, room, yet be not too elegant, nor too ornate, too dainty for everybody's common use. Here there may be low bookcases filled with inviting volumes, easy chairs, and cushioned rockers, win- .^ dow-seats, where a child cuddles tip'^^er a beloved-^^^ book, or a maiden in the shadow of a curtain [71] " ^ '^ JiKvatches for the coming of her sweetheart, and whence, morning and evening, the wife waves her hand to speed her husband on his way to business or greet him on his return at night. A few pic- tures are here, well chosen, and with a story to tell ; there may be a piano, and there is always a table as a household centre, where the lamp burns brightly, books and papers lie about, and the tokens of feminine presence are evident in the work-basket with its implements, needles, thread, scissors, thimble, and delicate stuff in which stitches are set. A lady stamps her own individuality on her living-room. It grows to look like her. If she is a lover of flowers, she will have plants somewhere; if she has many friends, and is fond of corres- pondence, her desk and note-paper will reveal Juhat womanly taste. Her room will speak of her jr friends alike in her presence and absence, living-room where every nook and corner eloquent of home, had, as its centre, a great )lace, filled through summer with green mches of laurel, and in the early )ldenrod, except when morning or :cuse for the leaping flame. How [72] Ihe pine-knots blazed and the dancing, flickering, wavering tongues of fire played in shadow on the ceiling, when, at twilight, a merry band of people, young and old, gathered around the hearth. The floor-space of this generously pro- portioned room could be thrown into a single area, when it was desirable, but, ordinarily, screens divided it into dining-room, library, reception- room, and nursery. The screens were easily port- able, and secured privacy at any moment for those who wished to be apart from the throng. Another living-room, combining almost every admirable feature, is long and low-ceiled, with bookcases along one side, and a great table across the end. Flowers abound here the winter through, the mistress having the art of coaxing them into lavish bloom, no matter how fiercely the sleet dashes against the windows. The carpet is fadec and threadbare, the furniture has seen hard sei ice, but the room is perfumed with the fragran;j of roses, and its spirit is so sweet, that one fe that here, in one generation after another, has broken its vase of alabaster in tender off( at the feet of Him whosg, presence glorifie^he plainest home. tMy \\'hat does it matter, if we have love and love's capacity for self-effacement, and love's deep soul of sacrifice, and love's gentleness and long-suffer- ing, what the shell of our home life is? It may be a richly furnished house, or a house severe in its austerity ; this is a mere detail. Those who live in the home make its peace or mar its har- mony. The externals are valuable only as they are the revelations of a beautiful inner life, the ressions of a noble character. Around one sumptuous hearth are carved words blessing and welcome to all who come beneath roof. Whether or not such a legend is any- it should be inscribed in every heart me plenishing and furnishing be or- a view to that end. Blessings on old, child and guest, servant and the portals of the real home. - be forgotten that a home is not s v^rs drift silently by, the ome fruitions go on. ^wnere vi antj th ered \\^: youngs istran.c'cr. J|Tt sli, ^__ iftm^hed ill a day me\accumulat re and more M^^ome-igathers into itself, as ^ a sheaf, the things m6st to be desired, until k^ every room becomes a sanctuary. [74] [75] 'O^'; ij T'S welcome hame, my bairnie, Hame, to mither an' me; An' it's never may ye find less o' love, Than the love ye brought wi' ye! ^Cauld are the blasts o' the wild wind,^ And rough the warld may be, i^But warm's the hame o' the wee one, In the hearts o' mither an' me. [76] The Coming of Children BEAUTIFUL years are those when the chil- dren come, one by one, filHng the home with their gaiety and gladness, and bring- ing new interests into the lives of their parents. It is a curious phase of modern civilization that has brought on the part of parents a hesitating acceptance of the joy of offspring, born of reluc- tant motherhood and indifferent fatherhood. Women shrink, amid the absorbing occupations and enervating luxuries of the city, from the drain upon their time, and the interruption in their social duties, made by the bearing and rearing of children, while in the drudgery of farm life,^ often monotonous and beyond the housewife^ strength, unaided by competent help, women are^ averse to the care of large families. There wi need in this nation that some one should uttc aeainst race suicide, as Theodoi warnmg Roosevelt boldly did, and there is need cry should be emphasis ■f/^ 5> ^ The Little Khigdorn of Home mong the untaught, the very poor, in the vast^ tenement districts where ahen peoples throng, slowly assimilating what the republic has to give them, babies swarm. A family on the East Side, New York, the father sallow and stoop- shouldered, bending over a tailor's press-board or a cobbler's last, stitching hour after hour, day in and day out, the pallid mother pottering over her confused housekeeping, and the family squeezed and cramped into dark, ill-smelling, and dirty rooms, like cells, will often have ten or a dozen children, tumbling into the world, at the rate of one every twelvemonth, not rosy, sturdy, dim- pled specimens, such as with equal rapidity arrive in the cottage of the English farm-laborer, but hollow-eyed, gaunt, and scrawny little ones, who must battle hard for a foothold from the begin- ning of their lives. When these families of the eign-born population are so large, it is a pitiful ast that the avenue mansions, inhabited by own people, where wealth and beauty go ^d in hand, have so few children. Three is number apparently most in evidence in the narxi^^i^erican household of the ordinary coml^r'CTpie'appointment, where the ample means [78] are more than sufficient to provide good living-, ^1^S> with a wholesome environment. In these homes, if there are four, five, or six children, the mother is openly pitied by her friends, and commiseration rather than felicitation greets the youngest born of the group. The parents, indeed, are apt to be apologetic over their immense family, as if it were somehow a mistake. A childless lot, if God appoint it, must be taken from his hand and met with resignation. '■ Between the plague of their living and the dread of their dying," said a childless mother to the mother of a round half-dozen, " I cannot see that you are better off than I, who, at least, have the minimum of toil and anxiety." But she had not tasted the unfathomed sweetness of the cup of maternity. " I grieve sometimes," said a mother, whose latest born was a sturdy fellow ready to enter college, " that I shall nev^^'; again know the unspeakable delight of lookii^g for the first time into the wee face of my ne\^ baby. The depth of my bliss was as great wl^iif the seventh came as when I held the first bafeyj to my breast." Home, be it incomplete until a child has [79] The Little Kingdom of Home m When the young father and mother look into each other's eyes above the cradle of the first- born, an element of intense sacredness permeates their union. Well for them, if over that cradle the mother hear a voice from heaven, saying: " Take this child, and train it for me, and I will give thee thy wages." Hers is the sacred duty of watching the very earliest years. The father's opportunity comes later. In these days of scientific study, babies are taken very seriously by thoughtful mothers, and it almost seems as if they are less fully enjoyed than they once were. Every hour of the infant's life is planned: so much time allotted for sleep- ing, so much for outdoor air ; the food is weighed and sterilized, the temperature is taken, and the nursery is a room's width away from the parents' chamber. Child-culture classes attract the young ther. She is desperately afraid of making an arable blunder, of doing this or the other she should not, of lavishing caresses, of too h petting, of too much coddling. The little ous pucker on her forehead deepens; she s notk3ei4;Hlv the full sweetness of her baby's year, in her terror lest she shall [80] _ injure him by some error in management. A little J,*\ wholesome neglect did not formerly hurt infancy, and it is an open question whether it might not even yet be worth while not to force babyhood quite so far into the centre of the stage. The place for the baby, during baby days, is in the happy background. By the time that there are several golden heads in the nursery, the mother grows less anxious about her theories; she suffers discipline to take more care of itself; the children help to educate one another. It is marvellous how little trouble is taken about baby number eight, and yet the youngest born grows just as fast, and develops as many remarkable and lovable traits as any of his predecessors. Paul Hayne, the poet of the Southland, wrote a lovely lyric about the children growing up — " The children, ah ! the children, Your innocent, joyous ones. Your daughters with smiles of sunshine, Your buoyant and laughing sons. •* Look long in their happy faces, Drink love from their sparkling eyes, For the wonderful charm of childhood, How soon it withers and d^h " A few fast vanishing summers, A season or twain of frost, And you suddenly ask, bewildered, What is it my heart hath lost? " The children spring up so fast, that, before one realizes it, the little feet, pattering over the floor, are treading the gay measure of youth, or falling sober-paced into the activities of maturity. The first trousers and the first pockets mark an ra for the little lad; he is a baby no longer, a man in embryo. If one wants to read an yl of child-life, let him do it in the experience every mother, who sees the sharp shears cut her boy'^^'golden ringlets, and looks at the orn hegx^ear-blinded and with quivering lips. hetOT does not cry. It is his day of triumph : utqking is coming to his own. When the e Qiie^first go to school, which, in this happy pciio(J^^^^indergarten, with its gentle adapta- is to'^rawwwl requirements, the mother knows other pang. trative into an _^ ^r.~*^~^e has her little private quiet and orderly home, though this pain has \they can do wit r of mourning first >chi|^4?en are taking their ini- "" ndent existence, in which Its alleviation. ture, dwarfed in body or mind, to have them linger in childhood's land of enchantment beyond the term of childish years, is to know the one in- sufferable torture, that even faith can with difii- culty accept, that love can scarcely console. Our children are in process of imperceptible but swift change from one day to another. The amazing progress made by an infant in the first two years of life, when he learns to walk, to talk, to use feet and hands, to be polite, to do as he is told, is the most extraordinary achievement ever seen among men. At no future stage is so much compressed into so short a time. Whether or not mothers appreciate it, these baby days, when the trend is giveii for all the coming life, are of unsurpassed opportunity and importance. Im- ^ pressions, when made, are enduring. Good man-^^^ ners, good temper, a good conscience, the courtli ness of the gentleman, the serenity of the ladj are all in the germ stage, while the little one reaching up from babyland to the busy yea^ beyond. At seven, the child is formed for seven- teen, twenty-seven, and every comius: decade to seventy. Neglect nothing no^ [83] said a peerlessly beautiful young mother, " to my family ; to having my children, and bringing them up. Nothing else with me can take prece- dence of this work. It is my duty." "Do you include having them in the duty?" was asked, and the answer came, joyously, " Yes, indeed. I have set my heart on a houseful." "And you can resign society?" " Yes, for the time, I resign it with joy." The question of the larger or the smaller family has too many aspects to be dismissed in a para- graph or a chapter. Where the rapid increase of a family robs the mother of vitality and ages her prematurely, the price is too costly, and the sac- rifice too great. In other words, it is better that two or three children should have a mother whose health and strength are equal to their demands her, than that six or seven should be thrown the care of an invalid, fading away at the lent when they will need her most, and after lile taxing the love of a stepmother. As a the mother should have a sufficient interval ?rths of her children, to enable her Physical tone, and to insure to her [84] the power of entire recuperation. Unless children are born in too rapid succession, each little one renews the health and beauty of the mother. At forty-five, the wife who has brought up a large family often looks younger and handsomer than she who has had no children at all. Her babies have kept her beautiful. It is the due of children to have certain educa- tional advantages. A poor man, struggling with limited means, may well consider whether he has the right to have a large family, when he can with difficulty and encumbering hardship support a small one. Every father and mother must make the personal election, the personal decision, for children must have bread and butter, shoes and stockings, frocks and jackets, books and school- ing, and as they grow older, their needs grow more relentless. Observation shows, howev that where people trust God, and are not afr to have the children He sends them, the means generally adequate to the wants. The sweet story of the cruse of oil that was always repl ished. and the barrel of meal that was never hausted, is repeated in Iwmes where there is^ery little mon^, but a gre^dealoi-Joffi^aad wuere p f The Little Kingdom of Home children early learn self-denial and are not irr^ danger of being ruined by luxury. The young mother, at the outset, should not forget, that, though a mother, she is still a wife, a daughter, and a member of society. In her absorption, she sometimes lets the tiny dependent creature whose dimpled fingers so clasp her heart- strings, take larger privileges than belong to him. The father, spending lonely evenings in the sit- ig-room, while the mother lingers up-stairs with le baby, wonders that the little invader can so the entire landscape. Jenny never gives the more than half attention. She 'leisure. The baby has temporarily her perspective. She ceases to realize Dne else has the shadow of a claim upon )rt of intoxicating joy of possession fills ile, the conditions are reversed, e fathe^jwhogxceeds the mother in an nteres^ ^^^^^^ ildren, throwing other \) the fe^iPS^i^ no moment. " John -were nothing to him except as I am er," cQmpl^ii|ed a young wife, with She found ner conversation unap- [86] preciated, her wishes disregarded, and the on< consideration of paramount importance, her boy. " I take no risks with my son," exclaimed her lord, as he debated each point, and watched with eager, almost feverish solicitude, every variation of the child's health, every cadence of his voice, every hour of his little life, A man may occasionally be jealous of his wife's devotion even to his child : a mother's love admits no jealousy, yet it is not for a wife's happiness that she shall be treated as a mere adjunct to her son. The attitude is Oriental, and savors of the races with whom wifely dignity is trampled underfoot, and woman is regarded as the mere shadow of her husband ; his slave or his plaything, becoming of conse- quence only when she bears him sons. The ideal household is composed of father^,^^ mother, girls and boys, but the primitive noti, that the latter are to be preferred to the form is less frequently met than of old. The man should treat his wife with chill disapproval, refuse to cherish her, because she had borne several daughters in succession, \yhen his heai was set on a son to transmit 'Itrs^iii^ily may be found in Bombay or Calcutta. Tii been when he appeared in Boston and New York." The manifest and unspeakable injustice of con- demning a mother for the unwelcome sex of her child can be discovered, let us hope, at this day, in heathen lands only, not where Christ's love and His grace have forever exalted womanhood, and made girls the home's peculiar treasure. The mother of eight daughters said happily one day, " I thank God for them every one. I thank Him when I think of the home-makers I am training." Sons or daughters, our children should be received with gratitude in the spirit of the bard of Israel, who, centuries before Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea, sang: " Except the Lord build the house their labour is but lost that build it. Except the Lord keep the city the watchman aketh but in vain. It is but lost labour that ye haste to rise so and so late take rest, and eat the bread of efulness; for so He giveth His beloved sleep. Lo, children, and the fruit of the womb, are hexiissat^nd gift that cometh of the Lord. e arrows in the hand of a giant, young children. [88] Happy is the man that has his quiver full of- them. They shall not be ashamed when they speak with their enemies in the gate." In the morning world, in Palestine, Abyssinia, Greece and Rome, the lack of children was con- sidered a great misfortune, if not a dire calamity, and no woman w^as so pitied as was she who had no offspring. Gradually the point of view has changed, and it is an especially latter-day char- acteristic, and one to be deplored, that there are those who care more about the chairs and tables, the sofas and divans of the house, more for recre- ation and luxurious ease and social display, than for the melody of the little voices, and the clinging of the little arms, and the kisses of rosebud lips. One wishes that people had more leisure to enjoy their children. The pressure of business and professional engagements so hurries t father, that he has small chance to know his and girls, and the conscientious mother is so tent on discipline that she often misses the sw^ est relationship a mother can have, that of assured and unbroken confidence of her gro\^ng children .^W^U: .v-::Oi^, IZ/^^^C^ ■^^"l^S^ sacred At least one hour in i^^ery alysnbuld to the little children in every home ; for the father an hour of frolic and story-telling, for the mother, the precious before-bedtime hour, when she may hear the children's story of their day, listen to their prayers, and say good-night as she leaves them to the watching care of the angels. [91] \K ^^1 M I ^ A S our children see us, we are beings whosi "^^ word is law, whose knowledge is profoundT/^ whose power is unbounded. Do they see us, one day, with eyes opened with wonder, when we prove less than they had supposed, when we do not illustrate to them the nobility of parenthood? Precept is right in home-training. Example is, however, much more potential than precept. [92] The Training of Children THREE essentials are to be held before the mind, in the bringing up of children, and with these kept steadily in the fore- ground, almost everything else may be left to develop as a plant does in the air and sunshine without anxiety. Heredity strongly influences the children's unfolding, as they emerge from the earlier and dependent stage to the plane of re- sponsibility and self-management. Environment and atmosphere have even more influence than heredity in the making of a man or woman. Given a house where love is the fulfilling of the law, and children are encompassed with affection > from the outset, and there will be little dang^ of the home's subsequent disappointment in its children. The cardinal points in child-training are obc dience, truth, and honor. Many parents make tl fundamental mistake of insisting on obedie^fe, in an arbitrary and unji The Little Kingdom of Home ancy that their will must be supreme, and their^ authority unquestioned, without any reference to the child's personality. " Do this or do that because I say so," these despotic parents exclaim, and think they are in the right and cannot be gain- said. Injustice in the nursery is a greater crime than injustice elsewhere, because the victims are Lilliputians, lifting up arms in vain against those who are their superiors in size, strength, age, nd experience. oing back to the eighteenth century and the rlier part of the nineteenth, a rigid sternness ained in the home life of good people. Fred- ca Bremer^and her sisters were never allowed . sit in /fM^presence of their father and mother. riie chi|d/en of Jonathan Edwards and his wife ays rose when their parents entered a room, o(l until their elders were seated. Early 1 diaries of men eminent for worth and ic services^ and doubtless amiable in private contain such (fl^^<9r^»^s these : " I whipped nny thjs morning for misbehavior in prayer- " Punished^ary^lizabeth severely for )^dPj^. J^i was 4hen thought indispensable , tVie projxjr training of a child that there should [94] The Training of Children )e one or more mighty conflicts, when some trifle was squarely brought to an issue, and a worn-out parent contended with an equally worn-out child, perhaps for hours, till the latter yielded and obeyed from sheer exhaustion. This was called breaking the will. When one thinks of it, no more infamous injury can be done to a human being than to break its most regal endowment, the will, given it by God, not to be broken, but to be guided. A little chap, seven years old, refusing to obey some mandate of his parents, was alternately punished by each, the contest extending over half a day. When, at last, he had done the thing required, his father said : " Now, Eddie, do you not feel sorry you have been so naughty, and wish you had not made us so much trouble? " " No," said the honest little fellow, " I don't feel sorry, and I did not make the trouble. I think you an(l. ;• mother, who are so big and strong, are very mean to fie:ht with a little bov like me. Fifty years earlier, the child's frankness won have brought him another and severer chastise- ment, but the parents, to whom he^|poke, looked /^ at one another, and each read i\^X>^yi&%onghl];^ [95] •fp.^vf^ :P The Little Kingdom of Home £' the child had right on his side. They had taken^ the wrong way to gain his obedience. Some one will ask, can obedience be taught and enforced without penalty, without friction, without the infliction of pain? Surely, if the parent's own state of mind and body be serene and well balanced, with every faculty in poise, and if the habitual tone of the parent's thought is submission of will to the Heavenly Father. Our children must obey, not because we say so, but because God says so. His commandment, "Honor thy father and mother," is binding on the race, and if we consciously live serving and obeying Him, we have the privilege of exacting similar obedience from our little ones to us as His repre- sentatives. In the first nebulous dawn of intelligence, when baby eyes begin to notice and know those around 'N^ them, when baby fingers learn to clasp and cling. when baby wilfulness begins to assert itself and %■: indicate individuality, the teaching of obedience ^Ijould also begin. Long before the first year ha^' passed away, the infant may learn that the tSIeU^jng^>c^^^e mother's gentle " No " is an in- -r^v^ flexitime i he child will obey from instinct. [96] i For very young creatures of every kind some sort of punishment may be necessary, as a rivet to attention, but this punishment need never be harsh. Small meddhng hands that have forgotten orders may be tied. Persistently naughty chil- dren may be put to bed in the daytime, or de- prived of a toy or a dainty. It is the absolute cer- tainty of a penalty, and not its severity, that acts as a deterrent from disobedience on the part of a little culprit. A child who is accustomed to implicit obe- dience is far safer at critical times than his little companion who has never had this fortunate training. For example, an obedient child, when ill, takes medicine without a struggle, while the one unused to doing as he is told refuses the pill or the potion, adds to his fever by the struggle, and possibly endangers his life. It is well that in the person of father or mother should vested that unfaltering power of control, wl will induce ready compliance in illness, as; health ; the presence of a decision that will not turned aside. Every young child should be tauj by gentleness to obey some one. The future 7^^]. r;^ T/ie Little Kingdom of Home 7^ and law-abiding citizen is in process of evolutionr^ in the nursery to-day. A little Scottish lad was very ill, and very fractious, and when the doctor left a nauseous but remedial draught, he fought against it so stubbornly that his mother sat down and wept. " Dinna greet, mither, dinna greet," piped up a little thin voice from the pillow. " Feyther'll be hame sune, and he'll gar me tak it." A fire broke out in a tall apartment-house in great city. Retreat from within was cut off all on the upper floors, and those who were the mercy of the dooming flames at the dizzy ight of the-fixth floor had to climb down, on wintej^^T^ay, through blinding snow, step by by tne perpendicular ladder which was the escape. Vj'Two little lads, of eight and five, whose blessed bit it was to obey their mother instantly and rthout parley, descended the fire-stairway with- t accident or tefttj_^^ an emergency of any nd, it is well 0r ^?m^ to lean on the judg- ment of parents and teaejifers, and to do as they are directed, not wasting time in argument or o^PJ-^^atio^jjsj^ Ajt_:^rtain times, a child [98] ay inquire, " Why must I do this, or not do' the other thing?" and the mother may appro-- priately answer, as a matter of courtesy, just as she would reply to any of her own age. But it should not be the rule of the household that the children should ask and the mother respond, when it is a question of obeying orders. The efficiency of an army corps depends on the quick response of each member to the officer in command, and the peace of a home depends on its complete organiza- tion, its smooth-working order, and the obedience of its members to its chief. Implicit obedience from children to parents is the ideal requirement, because it fulfills the divine law, and because it builds strong character on a firm foundation. " Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right." But control should not be secured by the exercise of arbitrary power, tyrannically^,^«^^^ displayed. The children of tyrants, when gra^ uated in the college of time, are rebels or we? lings. One is sometimes amazed to see families, wh< a rigid discipline has always prevailed, turn badly in manhood. Their home was so perfectly j^^ey wer^ [99] administered, their father was ser-^, ^ The Little Kingdom of Home so guarded and sheltered from evil, that it is an astonishment to find them wandering from the straight path, when they have the responsibility for their own actions in their hands. Is not the secret easily read, in the fact that harshness breeds cowardice, and that those who lean for- ever on the will of others learn no strength of moral resistance themselves? To meet the multitudinous temptations of the world, the home equipment should be so thor- ough that it fits the soldier with sword and shield. In childhood, the little soldier encounters the world in miniature. The schoolroom and the playground furnish the first arena. To so bring up a child that he is armed at every point of attack is a duty no parent may shirk. Principles must be planted, convictions rooted, beliefs taught while the mind is receptive. The custom conformity to law must be established then. e men go wrong in later life through lack parental oversight in the formative years, ey belong to the illiterate and poverty-crushed clhss, and neither they nor their parents have (^vS^ haekafe^blessing of rich opportunity. But, ^\i from|lt^w^Bfe of the well-taught and well-bred, [loo] 'men go wrong, because of over-training and mis- taken government in childhood. I have said enough to show that I, at least, dis- approve of all harshness in the home; that I would banish both the actual rod and the flail of unkind words; that I believe in love as the most potential influence in shaping character. Let me add that I do not believe in weakness, nor in foolish indulgence, nor in the sort of vacillating and unstable government which swings the pen- dulum first in one direction, then in another, until the child is bewildered. And I do believe in obedience as a foundation-stone in the building of strong characters. Next in order comes the quality of truth. Un- less one's veracity be unimpeachable, no trust can be placed in his word, and when one's word is a broken reed, one is untrustworthy all througl Children have a claim on us in this particular vir tue. It is their alienable right to be so treated a so taught that truth will be their natural impul and falsehood an impossibility. A child shoul, never know that there is a lie in the world. Unfortunately, in mostfepmes eye;"y imaginable device to make children^SlOTS^F^ttiuehi Jnto requisition except the right one. Living in a crystalhne atmosphere of sincerity, no child will have the impulse to deceive. Speak truth only, simply, and directly. Keep your word with ac- curacy to the last degree of literalness as to prom- ise, pledge, or threat, scorn in your daily practice and daily speech evasions and exaggerations, and believe what your children say. If a child ap- )roaches you with a startling statement, accept it detly and without remark. A child will neither nor prevaricate if neither frightened nor ;)ubted. Sensitive and timid children are often ished intolying as a sort of temporary breast- work a^iTist dreaded scolding or shaming. If fjreason to doubt the word of a child, that the word cannot be accepted, then Ion is serious, and the offender should ^>fi:Qm confidence until his or her con- a proc^of reformation. Let such a culprit ^e sho^^'n that society-^oukl not go on if men and ^men were unworthy of trust. Let the Bible, ^ich, in Christian homes, is the court of supreme 'e^l, be searched for texts to disclose God's :ipin:on of thi^^^ilw^4j«r-%s declarations on this ubject are imperative and straightforward. As W [102] one would relentlessly use the surgeon's knife to remove a spreading malady, not otherwise to be cured, so, with regret, if need be, the parent should in some way punish the child who wilfully or maliciously tells a lie. It is the only kindness possible. The soul must be cleansed of that plague, even at the cost of some pain, and the parent's pain should not be concealed. But be sure, before proceeding to extreme measures, that a lie has been told, that the child has not been misinformed or mistaken. More than mere cir- cumstantial evidence should be asked for, before a child is branded as a teller of falsehoods. The chief use of punishment is to gain and hold at- tention. Little children often relate wonderful fairy- stories which have not the slightest literal founda- ,. tion. The incidents simply never happened. Ye|' a blue-eyed darling, with innocence shining in her flowerlike face and candor stamped on her baby forehead, will tell you of people she has met, of dangers she has escaped, of gifts she has received, until you stare at her in surprise, knowing not what to think. For you have forgotten, in the prosaic realm of grown-up land, that " heaven [103] ies about us in our infancy," that " trailing clouds of glory do we come." Imagination, that Hans Andersen called " a leaf from the sky," has its magic sway over us in the days of childhood. Far be it from the judicious mother to curb or check the play of fancy which allows the little child to live in " a house of dreams." From this roseate glow, the step, alas! will be a short one to the table-land where the mists roll away, and the child sees things as they are. The little dramas and stories, which seem to be enacted on the mimic stage and seem to the child to be realities, will never so much as flaw his or her white ideal of truth in the years to come. But you and I may flaw it, by our hypocrisies, our social insincerities, our assumptions of cor- diality in the presence of those whom we criticize ^n^^heir absence, our brazen impositions that make ^ the recording angel sigh, ery important part of child-training is that •h has to do with honor. Naturally, this springs from truth, and may be considered truth's ^ finest efflpr^ej^ce. ^ In an age which is insistently commercial and [104] msely material, we a the essence of knightliness, the flower of courtesy, the perfume of a noble gallantry. In our ardor for gain we sometimes sacrifice that which is back of all financial profit, and so we find the anomaly of men who are honest, who pay their debts, but who are corroded through and through with the rust of greed. They flaunt the low motive, not seeing it as a badge of disgrace. " Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers." If we would have the home life ideally har- monious, we must cultivate in it a devotion to spiritual, as higher than material, ends. We must teach our children patience with the weak, for- bearance with the old, a delicate thoughtfulness toward the helpless and infirm, tenderness to the halt and the blind and the deaf, and an instinctiv deference to the opinions of those who are supe" rior by reason of age, position, or station. Re^ erence is fast becoming a lost quality in t American home. Boys and girls are self-assert ive and contradictory to the point of brutali the meek and the low- voiced ffo to the wall in the babel of emphatic tongues. All this directly assails honor, and stamps home life with degeneracy. Honor, too, needs to be instilled in the matter of property rights. Where children are carefully and punctiliously trained in reference to money, shown that borrowing is perilous, and that there must be a minute and fastidious care about pennies that are not one's own, there will not be much ganger of dishonest appropriation of others' funds >later life. A caution needed by some parents is not to be obviously educational in the presence of ac- laintances ^d friends. The conscientious is always disciplining and correcting 1 in public is an object of dread of those who are forced to witness lous endeavors. No child should be strangers, or in the midst of the ^of should be given in private. .do more for our chil- force or sternness. :hildren dwell is pleas- lelnhabited by ill-trained, j^en is a place to shun. life is the part into which outsiders do not enter, the mother must find her opportunity here, and so bring up her children that they will need no admonition in public. [107] [i09] 'HE pity of it, that in so brief a life ther^ should be so much of irksome bondage, that^ is wholly without occasion or defence. [no] Bricks without Straw MORE real misery is caused by a mis- taken and stupid theory of domestic finance than by any other occasion in the world. The ancient Egyptians, at the height of their oppression of their Hebrew slaves, fur- nished a pertinent phrase for modern literature. The Hebrews were hated aliens, and were made to build massive works, which stand in the desert to this day. And they were bidden to make bricks without straw. The fierce taskmasters, in their rigorous exac- tions, insisted that their workmen should do un- paid piece-work, but refused to supply them with the materials for the job. Despotism never hi a more extreme illustration, nor was cruelty mc refined. In thousands and tens of thousands of mod< homes a similar injustice is constantly perpetrat not on slaves, but on loved ones, and it is ne\^ every morning and fresh evepp^-^QMbMte". Ador^ [III] The Little Kingdom of Home ing husbands do not hesitate to inflict upon their beloved wives a needless humiliation, amounting, in the experience of supersensitive women, to suffering which is almost torture. The woman does not live who enjoys asking her hus- band for money, and rendering to him an account of the way in which she spends what he gives her, whether he pour it generously into her lap, or dole it grudgingly from his pocket, openly wonder- ing why her purse is so often empty, and openly discussing her economy or her lack of the same. Men seldom suspect how deeply ingrained in women's souls is the aversion to being simply licensed mendicants. If they did, they would, in the language of Scripture, abhor themselves and repent, if not in dust and ashes, at least in such wise that an entire change of conditions would speedily ensue. A good man means to just, if not magnanimous. 'here is no reason why, in the family firm, the )and should claim and maintain the sole right disburse the family income, while the wife tolerated pensioner on his bounty. Naturally, ^e^^^j administrator. His province is to be occupied with the world, and, by the sweat of his brow or the toil of his hands, to procure the means of subsistence. Her function is to receive what her husband earns and use it for the advantage of their united home. Where the right notion of home management has taken root, there will never be jarring or discord over money. It wall be regarded as the means of comfort, of honest in- dependence, and of provision for the rainy day and for old age. Only those who have studied the subject and observed its application in many homes, from that of the millionaire to the poorest day laborer, know how necessary is a reform in this one particular. Mistaken domestic finance wrecks home happiness. Women may live in palaces, wear rich raime and fare sumptuously, yet seldom have any rea( money, or the least liberty to spend or give awj or invest a dollar of their own, being treated their lives as if they were irresponsible childrer In the event of the death of the husband or fatl such women are often at the mercy of unscrt lous advisers, who find them an easy >t'-'3]. The Little Kingdom of Home of their inexperience. If, in the natural reactioiT that comes with freedom, they spend fooHshly in- stead of saving wisely, when once they have the control of the money, who can wonder? It is not an unheard-of thing for the wife of a rich man, permitted to have running accounts at stores and to accumulate bills which her husband examines and pays, to lack small change for car- fares and tips to the drivers of cabs and hansoms. [n reality, the women most favorably situated ^r their own ease and contentment are the wives [f mechanics and day laborers and factory opera- tes, to whom the week's wages are regularly rought miruiS the small sum the man keeps for lis owtf^^rposes. When these men are caught mieshes of the saloon, their wives are, of !rfe, the sufferers, and their children as well, it the custom of the class is based on a larger le other custom, which makes the idisputed lord of the exchequer. A artner Th busmess, not an unpaid hire- her married life, she yp this question of money of the honeymoon.. Certainly it seldom crops up in the romantic con-^^j versations of engaged people before marriage,' althought it would not be a bad plan if some dis- tinct understanding on the subject could be reached during betrothal days. Soon after marriage husband and wife should have a consultation about their joint resources and the proper amount of their outgo as pro- portioned to their income. Where the man is in receipt of a fixed salary, the matter is com- paratively simple, much more simple than where he is in business, or a profession, straining every nerve to increase his capital, and doing his best to build up something which may be a strong dependence for the future. No pair should marry without having some- thing settled and definite to live upon, and ap- proximately every man may know how much ho^^^ can probably afford to spend in the various din tions which the home requires. So much mori! must go, we will say, for rent or for taxes or* some way for the roof that shelters the famf A certain sum must be devoted to food and clot! ing. Something must be set asi^ doctors' bills and medicine, ["5] ^y The Little Kingdom of Home and life insurance, something for the education of children and for unforeseen emergencies. As a rule, the husband's part is to pay house and pew rent, buy fuel, and attend to all outside matters, while the wife supervises the catering and marketing, pays the maid, if there is one, and in every possible way looks after the indoor affairs of the home. It is quite simple to place in her hand every week a stipulated sum which she may devote to her share of the joint work, this sum being paid without fail or delay, as often as the man receives his salary. No account should be rendered, provided she does not incur debt. If her husband is in a position to have a bank- account, he may allow his wife a separate house- hold account in her own name, which she shall independently control, the understanding being that she shall always leave a small sum to the d, so that she may not overdraw. Either, as tter of courtesy, may tell the other where how the money goes. very collector for charity, for missionary pur- poses, and for the church knows full well how •., difficult^''.il('A^'''for married women to subscribe ^ without first consulting their husbands, and how 7^ [.i6] • hard it is for them to procure the money they wish to dispose of in charity. Tlie wife who either has a personal allowance, or her own share of the household money to do with as she pleases, need never ask Edward or John for the dollar or two which she wishes to give away. She is not likely to waste the money which her husband toils hard to earn, for she is trusted with her share of it. Besides this, women are naturally economical in small ways. All over this land married women are eagerly, wistfully, and insistently seeking ways by which they may make money at home, especially if they have been wage-earners before marriage, and as teachers, artists, writers, stenographers, clerks, or in any capacity have had their own incomes. Such women make comparisons, and they find it unspeakably disagreeable to be dependent upc^n\ even loving husbands for the money they requi to keep house and use in their daily lives. ^ ,, Very often women need money for little extc^-: of which they do not care to speak. Somet it is their wish to go on with a favorite stu or to save that they ma}- buy somethino^ f adornment of the home, or, perha^. \/M to lay something aside in the bank for future use. So they cast about to find what they can do in the fragments of their time, and in some way reHeve themselves of the irritating lack of funds, which is the modern equivalent of the old story of bricks without straw. Men would not impose on their wives this restriction that is so hateful if once they under- stood how irksome it becomes. Exceptional men lo are miserly and mean would not turn from ieir course on account of the feelings of their [ves. To such men it is nothing that the women names are discontented, or that "^are shadowed by a baleful cloud, ^r example an educated man whose so exceedingly narrow and grudging ^as warped all through. His wife, to ted out every meagre cent, took it head to bestow upon him a most Christ»Ra|4^^^^t. She saved enough rough ^«b^^^^)to buy him a pretty iof tlie clay, pat^tically taking to the Is and occasional dimes put aside. His re- le saw the present was, " I wish you had not wasted so much money on such a folderol as this. Do you think the man would take it back ? " Another example is patent. A man, living in much elegance in a beautiful home, never allowed his wife liberty to buy a pair of stockings for one of her children, or gloves for herself, for fear she might spend a few cents more on the purchase than he thought it was worth. Instances of this miserliness can be multiplied. They are outgrowths in extreme of the ordinary, absurd, and mediaeval narrowing of the purse-strings which obliges a wife to ask while the husband grants. The wife should have her personal allow- ance, or something which amounts to the same. The plan, once tried, will never be abandoned by any pair who prize the sweet tranquillity o a perfectly well-rounded home. Women are unjustly accused of extra vagan when the explanation is that they are enti ignorant of their husband's means, or the amon.rV" it is right for them to spend on housekeeping ai dress. Men like to see their wiv^s beautifully dressed, and are themselves it^^y^^gjjjnl c^ sidering the cost of materials and majcing. ^ ["9] other words, they are enacting, in this famiHar parable, the tale of bricks without straw. Oil the other hand, there are men who never notice how their wives look or what they wear, and who contentedly permit them to go on dressed shabbily and in contrast with other women, with- out a thought on the matter. A bride once left her father's house with a trousseau sufficient to carry her over many months. She had gowns, hats, wraps, and shoes, but, in the course of human events, even an extensive wardrobe wears out, and it never occurred to her negligent husband that his wife's might need replenishing, while she was much too proud to speak of that about which he was silent. Time passed, until finally she had neither shoes nor gloves with which to appear in public. It was only by accident that her mortified husband discovered that she was ,s a tender yearning in unsatisfied hearts long ter it has passed away. There is revelation of the habitual penury of Komen in tl-v&i makeshifts of which they are not hurch fairs and bazaars, where the eir fingers is sold to reluctant buyers, ppers, for which they despoil their purchase supplies which silently go on accounts, and, most of all, the ajolings by which new hats and usbands when they are bncession, are, each and all, mistaken dependence. the results are marked ss friction. [i23] IE husband's function is to earn, an port his family. His is the role of bread- winner. The wife's function is that of adminis tratrix. Her province is to save and to spend for the home's advantage. She is the lady of the loaf and cup. [1^4] CHAPTER VIII. The Earnings of Married Women FIFTY years ago the field of labor for fem- inine wage-earning was exceedingly re- stricted. Only the exceptional woman ven- tured forth from the seclusion of her home life to engage in paid labor and take a share in the world's work, and this when she had no mas- culine protector. Unmarried women who were self-supporting found employment as teachers, dressmakers, milliners, or servants, according to their education and social station. The widow left with children perhaps opened her home to lodgers, or boarders, but it was an almost un- heard-of thing for a wife with an able-bodiedN husband at her side to do anything whateve toward her own maintenance, or that of her fam- ily. Little by little the situation has wid< changed, and in the multiplied number of occupa^ tions now open to women, many wives find m-\ invitation personally to earn money, even th^Mjeh husbands are furnishing vSwsflfii^-fl^XQi come. They do this without exciting commeni or awaking criticism. In some cities stringent rules have been made against the continuance by married women of their work as teachers in the pubhc schools, on the ground that they have retained places needed by single woman. This has been opposed as an unfair discrimination, and the sentiment is by no means universal, so that many women are still ^ound teaching after they have changed their liden for a married name. Artists, journalists, stenographers, and book- jepers, indeed, professional women of every tkeep straight on with their work Teachers occasionally do the cores of wives look about them for fwhich they may earn a few dollars with- their homes, or resigning any of their js. A wife is no longer singular add to the family income by exer- ^is no stigma upon her to do this. Usage has are constantly opening The Earnings of Married JVonien ^ which permit women to bring their delicate taste and their talent for administration into play. Nevertheless, it is an open question whether or not home completeness is best conserved by the entrance of the wife upon regular wage-earn- ing. If it does not take her from home, it neces- sarily absorbs so much of her time and thought that she is unfitted to give her first attention, and her freshest energy to the legitimate requirements of the home. Her argument that she may earn her own and her children's wardrobe by pleasant work which she likes, thus relieving her husband of a certain strain, is a specious one often pre- sented, and at first sight has much to commend it to favor. The wife's plea that she prefers to be relieved of unwelcome domestic drudgery, and that she can afford to pay other women to do certain of her housework while she goes on with tl profession or the avocation she enjoys, is attractive. The answer to every line of spec pleading is that usually a simpler way of livfi would be better, so that the untired Avife an^ mother might give freely of her ciwii personalil to those nearest and dearest [127] The Little Kingdom of Home may be urged, that it is not invariably a good- thing for a husband to feel that he can in any way depend upon the exertions of his wife to supple- ment the income which should be the chief sup- port of the home so long as he is in the fulness of his powers. Broadly stated again, the man's function is to supply the means of living, and the woman's to administer and manage the income. Husband and wife should agree upon an adequate income, and to use a homely phrase, should then " cut the garment according to the cloth." Our common temptation in America is to emulate our neighbors by attempting to live in a style much beyond our means, simply because they have prettier things and more of them than we . _ can afford. ^ rv^ij^in the early days of the Colonies, the wife of i^^ squire, or the judge, or the minister, wore ja<;e, velvet, silk, and other rich, dainty fabrics ^d elaborate articles of apparel, while women betow her iji_ station were strictly limited to serv- iceable ;^tuffs of stout linen or woolen, and to respett^Ie and inexpensive homespun. Class ) [128] -^ kz o-*^' — .'.T J TJie Earnings of Married Women/ Mines in the republic are practically now obliter. ated, and every woman wears what she chooses, buys what she likes, and in a hundred possible ways, surrounds herself with that which is agree- able to her own sense of fitness. It has therefore come to pass that it takes a good deal of money to live in a pleasing style, and few people have the stern virtue to be entirely contented in doing without what they very much wish they might have. The burden of desire in homes without number is more money to spend, while in other and thriftier homes, the wish is to have money to save. In either case, the wufe, if she have a quick brain and deft fingers, and some ability to take the initiative, is strongly tempted to see what she can do. In most cases it is not best for her husband that she should take upon herself, his share of the task that lies upon both. Shou she be compelled to abandon her efforts, might then feel that an unfair burden was thro) upon him. Wisdom and self-denial should hand in hand. In many homes there are leakages which cc and should be stopped to^dvantage^ consider as we might The Little Kingdom of Home indulgences, which after all add little to our com- ■;. fort. A penny spent here, a nickel there, the man's tobacco, the woman's chiffons, the child's candy, continually deplete the exchequer. The wastefulness of our American living, and the heedless manner in which we part with dimes, forgetting that they make dollars, the car-fares which give us the chance to ride uncomfortably when we would better walk to the advantage of Jiealth and strength, all help to swell the debit xount, and diminish the credit. The wife who (s anxious to add her own exertions to the family icome, would in most cases do better to devote Jer attentioa^o a prudent saving, rather than to )re money in order that there may be ly to spend. An exact keeping of house- \.s would vastly increase her comfort, [the home asks from the mother, from money, but influence, not things Iiefsel?^^^;^^^hen the children come in from their first^il^^' Mother! " One hears r voic^^^^uting" her name as the boys tb^^^, a^ storm over the door- i'ttle girls \\ant her, that they may tell ^a44>-jvhat they must do for [130] The Earnings of Married IVonien c^ 'to-morrow, what the playmates and the neighbor" children have on foot for the afternoon. Then,"' a little later, the husband's key is in the latch ; he looks up expectant, and is not satisfied until he sees the brightening of his day in the dear face that makes the sunshine of his world. A weary wife meeting him on the train with a host of business interests, not unlike his own, the absorp- tion of the office in her bearing, and the dust of travel on her skirts, cannot be to him the com- forter, the refuge, the rest that his home-staying, home-keqDing wife is. They might sit together at a well-appointed meal, but it would lack the savor of the dinner which the housekeeping wife had supervised. Better a pot-roast with carrots and cabbage, if it be flavored with the essence of home cooking, than a dinner of courses in a restaurant with strange people coming and going:^^^-^ and a soft-footed waiter changing the plat^ Sometimes it happens that the wife who is a bi ness woman is obliged to resign the peace of mesticity and meet her husband, the business on a plane of equal pressure and haste: she to live with him in an inn, or in k^dgings, or m^ a haphazard fashion of one oj^^fSj^^gprt, t^ The Little Kingdom of Home makes meals in public imperative. Away flies the. dove of home peace. The two lose the invaluable protection of privacy. What the home seeks of the wife and mother is leisure to listen to its problems, discretion to guide its counsels, and serenity to bless its atmosphere. There are times in the life of every young girl when she needs her mother; not knowing which of two or three paths to choose, it is all-important that she shall turn to the woman nearest her on earth, and dearest, for advice and help. Perhaps a boy, at the transitional period between early youth and opening manhood, even more than a girl, needs some one at home, to whom he may carry his perplexities, some one untroubled by the whirl and rush of the hurrying tide of human- ity outside the door, some one who can be to a lad lis first hour of temptation, his earliest time •ial, just what a mother and only a mother be. The biographies of men who have been inent and successful, and have advanced the id's work, show with remarkable uniformity Ijhey have had mothers who were the strong for good in the background ; mothers who V^ [132] ■thought, and read, and wrought, and prayed, and who were not mere workers in the open mart for wages. The world wants good mothers. It can do without clever money-makers. These noble mothers may have had few educa- tional advantages in the conventional meaning of the phrase. They may have been homely women, with homely virtues, have been shy in society, clinging closely to the shelter of the fire- side. To read Thomas Carlyle's " Letters to His Mother," or J. M. Barrie's story of his, as related in " Margaret Ogilvie," is to find con- firmation of this. Plain little mothers with the instinct of the hovering wing, they brooded over their children and, little known beyond their doors, diffused heaven's blessing within them. Thank God, for pure, sweet, capable, gentle sympathizing, old-fashioned mothers! Ruskin says : " The best women are indeed tl most difficult to know. They are chiefly in the happiness of their husbands and nobleness of their children; they are only to divined, not discerned by the stranger, and soi times seem almost helple« For the prevalent tern its aroma of fragrance, its sense of proportion of what is owed to God and to one's fellow beings, we must look to the mother. Her communion with the unseen permeates the visible life of the household, and freshens its every-day air. The ideal wife and mother has higher and finer things to do than to be a breadwinner, unless, in the tempest of life, her husband has been swept away, and she is compelled to leave her natural sphere toil for her children. [When this condition confronts her, and obliges to fend for herself, the widow's situation is her different from that of the wife, wHo her door, and who does not so much volf's menacing growl in the remote distance. Should sickness prostrate so that during long intervals he can the material prosperity of his ^m again admits of but one solu- are grown, the wife oar. Here, when women cessity of a situation, ision. Truth to tell, they j, courage and invin- which are !3eyond praise. 1 he Earnings of Married Women A widow, in poverty and desolation, will some- times bring up a half-dozen children with credit, wash for them, cook for them, sew for them, and at the same time wash or cook or sew for the wages that earn their bread, while a widower, left in the same distressful state, proves as help- less as a boat without a rudder. The question ceases to be puzzling when it is illuminated by the clear shining of a plain duty. Speaking of married women as wage-earners, the conclusion is that, on the whole, it is not for the good of the home that they should be persuaded to leave it and its engrossing round of tasks, for any place, office, factory, shop, mill, studio, or whatever it may be, simply that the exchequer may be replenished. But when they must toil, and the question ceases to be one of choice, when there is no longer a husband in need of a comrade, Oj when only the mother stands between the ho and adversity, there is then no escape, and in dut assumed and fulfilled there is no detriment. Some years ago in a little New England to\\Tr/^ a sturdy Scotch woman found herself strande on the lee shore of want. Her yoiJfcg'liusban died suddenly. She had a child, a rosy-faced boy [135] >f three. The only thing the mother understood was housework, and she bravely took a servant's place in a rich man's home. She stayed there for successive years, till her laddie grew tall and strong, and, going to school, showed the promise of rare intellectual power. The mother gave up her place, and took for herself a small tenement, where she made a living by doing laundry work for a hotel. She was what the French call blanchisseuse de ftn. Years passed as years do. To-day the Scottish callant is a splendidly success- ful surgeon, and his mother, grown old, rides in her carriage, and wears a silk gown, and is waited on by others, as she has earned the right to be, by her long career of persevering toil. When all is said, and whatever the circum- stances, the best a woman can give her home and ler^children is herself. Any other thing is merely best. And whoever so lives that a strong. Fast, unwavering personality stamps its ball- on her family, will be remembered by " what j^as done," long after the money that looms view has become of no value in ^ch we go. [er's strong box, and the million- [136] 'The Earnings of Married PVomen lire's securities, and the gewgaws for which men and women barter their souls, will be but as rubbish for the dust heap. For in that land are enduring values, and a crown that shall never lose its lustre, a crown of life. Great men as a rule have had great mothers. Yet we are mistaken if we limit the influence of mothers by the few examples that have come to us from history. In a generation, here and there, one man or one woman is conspicuous, forced to the front by opportunity, or by a talent for leadership. The mass of men do their work and fill their places in comparative obscurity, and worthily or unworthily, often, according to their early training. Mothers have their innings be- fore the world's chance comes. It cannot be too often repeated, and mothers should not be ham- pered by wage-earning, if it can be helped. ■) [^s?! V N these days of quiet beauty, when the silver^ haze of morn Like a mystic veil uplifteth, and afar to space is borne, Come the hours, Hke radiant angels, bringing gifts from One we love. And our rapture of thanksgiving rises to His throne above. [140] High Lights of Happiness WE are a nomadic people, and in these days of luxurious travelling we think little of going to Europe or California, or to the East. With less trepidation than a man once felt when bidding good-by to his family on starting from New York to Albany, we set out on trips by land or sea, which may involve an absence of long months or years, during which the famil- iar hearth-side will glow star-like in the vista of memory, never forgotten, never ceasing to cast its hallowed reflection over the new scenes and sights. A man always carries his home with him, go where he may. We sit in the train, and, as night comes on, the cars glide through unknoA villages where the household lamps twinkle behim the shining window-panes, and we know that^ those homes supper is ready, the husband retun from -AVork to be greeted by the wife's smile, golden heads cluster around the table, and^he children are telling the The Little Kingdom of Home flash past, and we never shall meet one of th( inmates of those happy homes, yet our hearts are' blither because we have had that flitting glimpse. The quiet, obscure, unnoticed homes of our re- public are its bulwark of defence from the dangers that menace its safety, dangers, let us remember, from within; never from without. So, when we walk the streets of a foreign city, and hear people talking in a dialect strange to ^ur ears, we are aware of a thrill of responsive idness when the father lifts his chubby child his shoulder or tucks his wife's hand under IS arm as they saunter along some crowded iulevard. in the large view, not our own, nec- it the portion of others, somehow adds fore of courage, strength, and hope. its silver strands are inwrought into of our lives, glinting with white jh the darker stuffs, softening the seamy places, making ^fe's garment beautiful we can conquer every iiiess are twins, never to are they who are en- sphered in happiness, whose days go on trium- phantly, because they are not thorny with needless friction. " There are briers besetting every path Which call for constant dare, There is a crook in every lot, And a need for earnest prayer. But a lowly heart that leans on Thee Is happy anywhere," sings Miss Waring in a tender lyric. She has caught the secret. A home can never touch the high-water mark of perfect peace unless there is acknowledgment of God and conscious resting upon Him there. The only homes that are absolutely fortified against the encroachments of misery, of envy, of disturbance, are those which honor God. Some may dispute this statement, but it is deliberately made. We are not to live forever, and the element of permanence ent( into our homes only when we regard them"^ vestibules to the homes where there shall be* more sorrow and no more pain. The earthly piness should be the prelude to the heavenfl harmonies. Complete reciprocity of sej^MniMtBakes [143 TJie Little Kingdom of Home enduring happiness. We must have spontaneous^ sympathy, a quick comprehension of the mood of those around us, and unfailing courtesy of man- ner. There are people who would die for each other were it needful, but whose politeness gives out at the slightest provocation, who are prone to misunderstandings which might easily be avoided by the exercise of a little gentleness and tactful consideration. Good manners have more to do with daily happiness than some of us think. When we are visiting friends, we wear our best manners as we do our best raiment, and, in con- sequence, we make and receive charming impres- sions. At home, we are off guard, and, it may be, boorish, brusque, meagre in our thanks, curt in our phrases, undemonstrative to the freezing- point, or vehement to the boiling-point. Any lack of courtesy in the household flaws the household )piness for the time, and frequent flaws inflict mds. A wound may be healed, but the scar lains. ^Simple goodness counts for much in the home d. Where the heads of the house are uniformly Hhe old rule of noblesse oblige, the yoaifflgQjDflsa©^ will follow their lead. Excessive [144] irritability, or unreasonable self-will, egotism ^^ which measures everything by its own standard, altruism which spills over in generosity to the outside world, and is grudging and churlish at home, all alike blight the completeness of house- hold joy. The truth is that we must have freedom to expand in the home atmosphere, and this we can never hope for, unless the home allow in- dividual liberty of choice and action. This is the outgrowth of every home where the habitual expression of the life is restrained and controlled by a fine courtesy. A frequent cause of heartache is explained by the word misunderstood. The cry of human nature is for complete understanding. In order that one may really understand another, there must be congeniality, attraction of temperament, and entire confidence. An undue reticence is blame for a good deal of misunderstandi " Ware shoal " might prudently be written o-^ this quality. Even good people are someti so secretive that an actual furtiveness charac izes their behavior. They dislike being tioned, and they surrou deeds with mystery, n w5 The Little Kingdom of Home If. of them, but because their impulse is always to stalk under cover. A man or woman hampered by this innate reserve, this unfortunate reticence, will almost certainly, sooner or later, awaken unjust suspicions in those around him, and, if the home people be jealous or sensitive, there will be cobwebs of wretched misunderstanding and barriers of foolish anger, which will drive love out of the door. Alas ! for the utterly absurd id needless troubles that vex home love. Confidence should be unbroken, not merely jetween married people, but through the whole Hisehold. Miserable makeshifts and subter- >orted to by parents who keep their the dark about family affairs, and by lughters who either do not dare or do fe to explain a precise situation to their [f, for instance, there is poverty and >nomy, let all in the house be in- subject, and all share in the stren- iavor tW'^^^^Sp home into an easier vShoul^^^^^^ughter make a blunder tl^e shouPff never be the fear of ►mmg^^^ii^sn reproach to keep con- ! tne fea^i^rbtfnST/ Should son or daugh- ter have a request to make, it should be pre- ferred openly and bravely, in the conviction that parental love will grant it, if possible. In the matchless story of Nathaniel Hawthorne and his wife, a classic in biography, one is con- tinually delighted by the completeness of the family union. Together or apart, they understood each other, and sacrifices were as nothing in their eyes, if they could contribute to each other's suc- cess or enjoyment. Julian Hawthorne's last memory of his father, when, a youth at college, he came home with some wish to present, was of his father's attenuated but glowing face, and the smile with which the wish was granted. Avoid pettiness. We need to cultivate in our- selves the habit of looking at everything as a whole, and of turning from the trifling details to the larger ends. An illustration comes to mil in the experience of a woman whose eyes hi been tired and strained by a long period of lal in the painting of miniatures. She consulted oculist, who told her that she must put her w^ aside and spend a summer under the open sk^ " Take longer looks," he said, out, and get breadth of vision. [>47] In our home world we need breadth of vision. How small and insignificant are most of our occasions of dispute ! How we spend our strength and waste our force over issues of infinitesimal importance! In the great crises, when the mighty calamities sweep across our homes, we are amazed and ashamed that we ever were an- noyed or troubled by things too tiny to be reck- oned up in the great total. " Much ado about nothing " might be inscribed over most family quarrels. A petty nature will nag, find fault, take the opposite side through perversity, and kill happiness as frost kills plants. Appreciation does much for home happiness, particularly when it is unstinted and seasonable. Old-fashioned people used to fear that praise would hurt their children, so they very carefully refrained from giving unqualified approval to ^^^^hing the children did. " Until I was a an grown," said a lady, whose home was the austerest Puritan sternness, " I supposed t my mother did not love me. I was always er ceiisu;"e. In later life, looking back, I saw at^lwSjas^really taken pride in me, but that entiously repressed praise, lest I [148] inight become vain." Blessed are the people who. dare to be natural, who are not incessantly afraid that they will make mistakes, and who in home life are as spontaneous and lavish as God's sun- light is when it flashes in swift pulsations from the morning sky. " Shall we be happy? " a girl asked, anxiously, when her lover pressed her to say yes to his earnest pleading. " It would be so dreadful if it were a mistake, if we missed happiness." She hesitated, shy at the thought of how much she must surrender, timid lest she should not have enough to give in return for a man's great love. " It is not the question, shall we be happy, that we must chiefly consider," said the suitor. " It is, can we help one another? Shall we be of more use together than apart ? Shall we reach a higher level, if we are married, than if each plods qi alone?" The marriage in which the man is the compj ment of the woman, and she, in return, his G{ chosen mate, will be sure to mean both happi and usefulness to the home the partners fo^ and maintain, and to There are misfits in love with a rose-leaf complexion and violet eyes, and straightway he fancies that every womanly charm he has ever enshrined in his ideal is resi- dent there. A muddy skin and dull eyes might be the mask for a fairer soul, but nothing could convince him of that. A girl, wooed by an ath- letic fellow who carries his head high, has a deb- onair bearing, and dresses well, a detail, that last, which counts for more than it ought in womanly timation, agrees to marry him. She may have iosen unwisely, and so may the man who fell love with physical beauty alone. Both, having fosen, shouldsecure what spoil of good fortune ike the best of things, and not repine Lbove all, let them not weakly and dis- 'k for pity from outsiders. To seek from a third person, no matter how long for it, is an unpardonable sin le. irageously undertaken, subsequently happiness it people. ient,'not exactly shallow, yet certain gallantry of to fickleness though loyal at the base of things, a certain craving for- admiration and a sort of instinctive leaning to coquetry, all of it undignified and regrettable, make perilous work for the home. Happiness can be built only on fidelity to the spoken vow, and allegiance to the covenant. Those who are in any way disloyal to the pledge imperil the home and insensibly but surely lower the moral tone of all within its sphere. The pessimist cries out that there is not much real domestic peace in the twentieth century. He is wrong. We are not tending downward. Ours is an ascending path. By thousands and tens of thousands everywhere homes rejoice in purity, in blessedness, in honesty. Men and women lead clean lives. Households are sweet and safe. Har- mony is the rule, not the exception. On the coastSy^^ of life, like beacons, shine, ever serenely, the hi| lights of happiness. The reefs and shoals malice, deceit, hypocrisy, ill-temper, and unwor iness exist, but dominating them are the cz skies, where love and content move on like stars in their courses, Adelaide Anne Procter's be omizes the story of most home? [151] " Who is the Angel that cometh ? Life! Let us not question what he brings, Peace or Strife, Under the shade of his mighty wings, One by one, Are his secrets told ; One by one, Lit by the rays of each morning sun, Shall a new flower its petals unfold, With the mystery hid in its heart of gold. We will arise and go forth to greet him. Singing gladly with one accord : — ' Blessed is he that cometh In the name of the Lord ! ' Who is the Angel that cometh ? Joy! Look at his glittering rainbow wings — No alloy Lies in the radiant gifts he brings ; Tender and sweet, He is come to-day, Tender and sweet : While the chains of love on his silver feet Will hold him in lingering fond delay, t him quickly, he will not stay, 1 leave us ; but though for others is brightest treasures are stored : — [152] " Who is the Angel that cometh ? Pain! Let us arise and go forth to greet him ; Not in vain Is the summons come for us to meet him ; He will stay And darken our sun; He will stay A desolate night, a weary day, Since in that shadow our work is done, And in that shadow our crowns are won, Let us say still, while his bitter chalice Slowly into our hearts is poured, — ' Blessed is he that cometh In the name of the Lord ! ' " Who is the Angel that cometh ? Death ! But do not shudder and do not fear ; Hold your breath, For a kingly presence is drawing near, Cold and bright Is his flashing steel, Cold and ^g^t The smile that comes Tik To calm the terror and grief we feel ; He comes to help and to save and heal : Then let us, baring our hearts and kneeling, Sing, while we wait the Angel's sword, — • Blessed is he that cometh In the name of the Lord ! ' " Home life, in its progress, has both lights and shadows; high lights to-day, deep shadows to- morrow, but there may be unspeakable and un- roken gladness through and under every human cperience, if God's will be continually accepted good and right. [155] ['56] The Young People BEFORE we realize it, the children of yes- terday are in the full, swift current of ado- lescence. They are young people, snatching eagerly at every joy, fond of excitement, reckless of danger, drinking deeply of life's most sparkling cup. A household of young people is full of gaiety. Good times abound. There is a sense of something pleasant happening. Anticipation gilds the most commonplace incidents. Nobody knows what may be announced next, concerning Ted at college, or Jean in society. The family history ceases to be uneventful. Buoyant animal spirits are the accompaniment of high health anc undashed hopes. Older people, enjoying the slij pers and dressing-gown of ease after a busy daj wonder at the feet that can dance till dawn, then go untired to bed, ready for another dr when another evening comes. The skating, ing, riding, driving, love-makinsf of vouth^he whole tremendous pace; The Little Kingdom of Home blood, are alien to the more even pulses, the more^- sluggish tide, of middle and old age. In a period of greater strictness than ours, parents were foolishly rigid in their treatment of the young. They had no patience with the flow- ing sail. They girded at the innocent mirth appropriate to boys and girls, who are frivolous and light-hearted, and not yet confronted with the more strenuous obligations of life. An elderly idy, speaking of her youth, when New York was * village, and everybody knew everybody else, lid, " We were a large family, and our friends klonged to large families, too, so there was a larmingf cy^e of young people, all about the My father, however, was very rigid, •on-clad niles, and expected us to ob- in our teens and twenties, exactly when mere children. So we never pany at home, except on the rare he went on a journey, and we or a concert or supper ed with our predica- ch as she could. We , and then slip calico or ary wear, over our pretty toilets, walking past father and his book or paper as if going down-stairs on an errand. The deceit and hypocrisy of it all fruited in con- flicts between our desire for perfectly innocent enjoyment and our father's mistaken ideal of what was right." A young married lady, spending her first winter away from her father's house, was asked why she and her husband absented themselves from church. " Simply," she replied, " because both Will and I have had churchgoing enough to last us a life- time. We have been compelled to go twice every Sunday, whether we wished it or not, and now we are taking a vacation." The case was one of reaction, and it was a pity that it took this form, but there was nothing extraordinary about it, as further inquiry developed the fact that both^^^^j-^ young people had been brought up in househol^*^ -'*^-** where religion was so grim as to be almc ghastly. To mothers and sisters there is a time wl the boy, not yet a man, and beyond the sweetn^;'^ of childhood, is a trial to their patience. He headstrong, and perhaps dispQse^^.tjQ ^challenge authority, is set upon his o^#fWTO'^^ts ['59] The Little Kingdom of Home k scrapes through sheer impulsiveness, and carries everything too far. His boyish nature finds an outlet in sports and games, and it is well for him that football, baseball, and other forms of ac- tivity in the open field afford him a chance to expend some of his superfluous energy. Indoors, the lad is sometimes clumsy and awkward, con- scious of his hands and feet, slow to speech, and apt to be in the way. The next few months and years are of immense importance to this young fellow, and the girls, graceful and poised by nature, should not be too critical of him, while his mother ought to stand by him, his steadfast champion and constant confidante. The society of other young people is invaluable to a boy at the turning-point, when manhood beckons. Now, the home evenings should be so interesting that he will not have the wish to rush as soon as the lamps are lighted. The chief th of a home is its children, and it is worth ile, for their sake, to have music and warmth cheer in the evenings, whether or not the ily fortunes are prosperous. Even very small ■^■^V-nrfestas:' of a little provision for household off expenditures somewhere else, [1 60] evenings De nappy, witn a fire in the winter on the hearth where one can see it, and a lamp aglow on the centre-table. The boy who has friends among the other sex, girls whom he visits openly, their mothers and sisters in the parlor, or forming the background for his call, is, on the whole, safer and more likely to choose the right sort of associates later, than the boy who is shy and distant with girls, and numbers none of them among his intimates. In a village, the neighborhood groups naturally include the young people who have grown up together, and they form a very valuable part of the community. To them a few years hence will be entrusted the management of the schools, the churches, the households, that now are in the hands of their elders. It is, therefore, an en- , couraging sign when they are not wholly occupied with pleasure, and when they show some tenden to accept responsibility. A young man shoy]^ not be indifferent to the honor of his first vfl It is a good thing that a household, as a unit vast meaning in the State, though only a u^it among: millions, should care intenselv and vi^lly about politics, in a r« ^ 'v^-? ..>..»> government of individual voters. On the coming man will be laid the duty, as well as the privilege, of the ballot. The boys and young men in the home should have intelli- gent preparation for this public service, and it argues well for the State when they are so trained that they are enthusiastic lovers of their country, and also strong partisans. Training in patriotism is as essential in the ioulding and shaping of young people as any )ther training. The girl will probably not vote. |he will not need suffrage, her province in life ioors, not, as the man's must be, in conflict. Not because young women for the vote, not because they do not and understand important issues, but iuence rather than action is their func- le-making rather than State-pilot- 'appropriate work. The overwhelming of opm^^^i^this country as yet re- lay up^ ^^^^ ^e great burden of the !l come to pass that a American women, wives, hearts, earnestly desire [162] to vote, American men will not deny them their_^,- request. As yet the occasion has not arisen, and the request has been made by a courteous and intelligent, but not persistent or absolutely dis~ contented minority. Our young women, in the formative period, have hardly given suffrage a passing thought. But our noblest young men are beginning, in this country as in older lands, to look forward to political life as an opening career of most inviting promise and of magnificent possibilities of ad- vancement. Leagues, societies, associations, and circles of many kinds call for the cooperation of our young people. The Young Men's and Young Women's Christian Associations, around the globe, are en- rolling the finest flower of our civilization, the most splendid products of our homes and college The educated young people of this generati(j must presently be the ruling class, the leade in every enterprise, in benevolent and civic w( in efforts for the uplifting of the world. Our problems in America are multiform anj puzzling. What shall we do with^a^Y. shall we> cope with, the mighty mass [163] ^v The Little Kingdom of Home stitioiis and downtrodden immigrants, who pour, in upon us from Europe and Asia by millions? Hopefully they come, as to a world-haven where they shall find room to grow, room to better their conditions, room to bring up their children as they could not in the old homes. Pallid Jewish operatives, with the shameful injustice of centu- ries of oppression bowing their shoulders and touching the hesitancy of their manner, but with the keen intellect and marvellous shrewdness of their race in abeyance, and needing only oppor- tunity, throng to our cities and stay there. In our free schools and normal colleges no young people are so clever, so responsive, and so quick to prize learning as the Hebrews. What has a free land to give them besides schooling? Are we forever to repeat the old war-cries and for- ever to push aside and shut out of friendly com- [ionship the children of Abraham? fhat of the blue-eyed peoples from the North, Swedes, Danes, Finns, Norwegians, with their hair and their blonde complexions and my strength? What of the dark-eyed sons ^ of the South, Italian, Spanish, 'ian people, who come confidently [164] ■fo our seaports, thronging in day by day, a host who are to be sheltered, taught, assimilated, a host who, in our schools, shall daily salute our flag, and learn to love and serve it loyally? These tasks are not for us; they are the tasks before our young people, and, in an incredibly short time, they will be in the thick of the fight, undertaking what has been kept in store for them, since the hour when the Pilgrim Fathers, and the Pilgrim mothers, too, landed on the Massachu- setts coast; since the gallant cavaliers first came as gentlemen adventurers or as fearless men-at- arms to the shores of the James. Young people are restless in these days, and the home cannot long keep them within its charmed area. In country places, where the scope for a career is limited, the young men leave for towns, or for the ranch, or the mining-camp, or tl newer State, with its newer chances, as soon they are their own masters. The mining-engi;;, neer is wanted the world over, and our boys finding work in South Africa, Russia, Chin Japan, South America, and our immense West territory. The scholar, J;he business man^De soldier, the sailor, is WMKftJMteH^ij his home. Over hundreds of abandoned farms -^ in New England this legend might be written : " The old people have all died off." Nobody left in the old county, so the pushing foreigner is coming there, to found a new community of his own. Our cities are cosmopolitan. Our young man must know how to be a citizen of the world. The restlessness of the young man is not his alone. His sister expresses the same feeling in ess ways. Only the exceptional girl is ntented to settle down and be just a home ughter, though no situation on earth is more iable and no sphere more desirable than hers. Our yAt«*g girls, partaking of the practical period, long to try their mettle. They fortably depend on father or brother; housekeeping flat and savorless, and xdrudgery of catering and cooking, precates this general protest against home d hripcs that it maybe a transient symptom, vvholesome^(r^^^i»may follow it. ere is the s^^^^^ of what we call the er educa^o^^f^wonran. When books and Sichers atid/^^l^^wftT^^uJture and mental dis- iplitie have f upoif a girl of giving her detachment from the every-day round, of making, her dissatisfied with home hfe and incapable of contentment therein, for her they have been a mistake. That, in some instances, a college grad- uate has been spoiled for domesticity, argues noth- ing against a liberal education, the fault being with the student, not with the college. It is she who does not sufficiently estimate values. College women make a success of home management when they devote their talents to it as a legitimate sphere for their powers. And we need our young women in the numerous niches which only the cultured can acceptably fill, need and must have them. Our only objection should be that, in the restlessness that has smitten the age, a girl chooses second best when she might have the best. For young people, the appropriate and heaven- ^^^ sent coronation of their years is love. If th( miss love, they miss the greatest gift God cl bestow. Friendship, social reciprocity, learnij beneficence, travel, wealth, accomplishments, but the ministers in the outer court. Love is king on the throne. In the exceeding ease of tl bachelor's days, when money pays-for much com^ fort; in the excessive independence of me [i67]c The Little Kingdom of Home m laiden's days, when her own earnings supply her with an artistic and convenient stopping-place, almost a home, but not quite, she and he are alike reluctant to be fettered. Our young people smile in a superior fashion, and dare love to find a weak spot in their armor. The old, old story of hearts courageous, invincible against the assaults of destiny, because true to one another through weal or woe, seems to have lost some of its fascination. Nevertheless, love is the magi- cian who reconciles opposites, and works mira- cles, and under whose spells the world moves onward evermore. While the world stands, let us hope that young people will fall in love. ST. VALENTINE With other saints thou standest, Our sweet Saint Valentine, But which in all the calendar Hath air of grace like thine, So merry and so tender And courtier-like and fine? For thee no robe of sackcloth, Ivet rich and soft, ustere, no down-dropped glance ; ravely shining, oft [1 68] As thou dost carry treasure To palace and to croft. Thy work is not with toilers, Except to bring them ease, Swift thoughts from thee go flying fast O'er deserts and o'er seas ; Love waits on whom thou choosest With happy ministries. Thy smile is for the maiden Who on life's threshold stands, And trustfully and fearlessly Holds out her empty hands For thee to pour within them The largesse of all lands. Sweet saint of love, unending Is thy long rule on earth, Love dowered thee with blessedness At thine immortal birth, And evermore thy day is kept With festival and mirth. ['71] PRING hath the morning gladness, The sheen of budding leaves, And Summer, in her queenly lap, The wealth of noon relieves, Lnd Autumn hath the richest crown. The joy of garnered sheaves. [172] CHAPTER XL Red-Letter Days ANNIVERSARY days are the mile-stones of the home. They Hft their faces cheer- ily marking the halting-places in life's journey. Here at such a point we had a piece of rare good fortune. There we met a friend who became our alter ego. On such a day, sud- denly, out of space, as a ship looms up in the off- ing, an expected word was spoken in our ears, and the answer to it changed our life for. the rest of the way. As mountains diversify the landscape, our red- letter days break the level monotony of the road. The day of betrothal, the wedding-day, the births days, and holidays, each and all arrive wearii an air of festival, and robed, so to speak, in whke raiment. Tliey are chief in the procession of year, and not to be overlooked by any who the poetry of life, and are not to be satisfied its plain prose. In the familiar stanzc The king was in the parlor, Counting out his money. The queen was in the kitchen, Eating bread and honey." On the red-letter days the king may pause, if he will, for a little while in his delving, his plough- ing, his reaping, his sowing, his buying, and his selling. At least he may come home an hour earlier at night, and bring with him a mood of anticipation. And the queen, she who sews d cooks and mends and darns and makes the ildren's clothes, and hears their lessons, may p for a little while, and both may eat their daily ead withb^ey that will sweeten its flavor. A (ender ^OT^nient should invest our red-letter days. Id because we are so reluctant to take e fof^lay. We grow old because we forget lat romawce is the world's great rejuvenator. fanc^i^se^e growing rich when we are being de ready for the poorhouse, so tattered are the rnients of our gladness, so unready are our for song, s^^ripty are our purses of the €!n|^BHkjp|^rompliment and courtesy, e red-le ttg^ ^ife^ce reminders of our real cst^le p|_j|)^^^V*^^wfTT^ possess broad acres, or pack our harvests in byre and bin, yet we, may be numbered by the angel who keeps the records as among the multi-miUionaires of earth. Wonderful is the luck of the light-hearted. " A merry heart," says the best of Books, " is a con- tinual feast." " A merry heart goes all the way. The sad heart tires in a mile." How the hours creep, when griefs get the upper hand ! What a dead weight is depression ! They who keep blithely their red-letter days, cheat melancholy and drive gloom from the door. It is hard work to climb a hill with the mist in one's face, but mists fly before the sunlight, and from rests on the hillside, as we ascend, we see fair reaches of plain and valley, and rejoice that we are so far on the safe upward-tending path. Those who bravely and buoyantly keep the red-letter days need never fear the ravages time. Browning's is the cheerful philosophy life well-spent. «' Grow old along with me ! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first Our times are in His hand ['75] " Rejoice we are allied To that which doth provide And not partake, effect and not receive ! A spark disturbs our clod ; Nearer we hold of God Who gives, than of his tribes that take, I must believe. " Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go ! Be our joys three-parts pain ! Strive, and hold cheap the strain ; Learn, nor account the pang ; dare, never grudge the throe. " For thence, — a paradox Which comforts while it mocks, — Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be, nd was not, comforts me : rute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale. herefore I summon age grant youth's heritage, 's struggle having so far reached its term: nee jSbaHi^oass approved A maD} fwuMk^funoved ed brute ; a God though in the germ. ^ [176] Fancies that broke through language and escaped ; All I could never be, All, men ignored in me, This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped " Look not thou down, but up ! To uses of a cup. The festal board, lamp's flash and trumpet's peal, The new wine's foaming flow, The Master's lips aglow ! Thou, heaven's consummate cup, what needest thou with earth's wheel ? " Some one once asked a very beautiful old lady, Mrs. Duncan Stewart, "Is life worth living?" "Ah," she answered, "to the very dregs." None feel this who suffer life to drift into the commonplace, who never catch a glimpse of some- thing in it, worth holding fast and deeply treastt ing. Among the heroes who won their laurels life's battle-field by steadfast courage and indor itable fortitude, who made their darkest dj red-letter days by pluck and splendid cheer, relentless will, none r^^K^iiifflfeto:^^^.; Louis Stevenson. 1893: " For fourteen years I have not had a day's real health; I have wakened sick and gone to bed weary, and I have done my work unflinch- ingly. I have written in bed and written out of it, written in hemorrhages, written in sickness; and for so long, it seems to me I have won my wage and recovered my glove. I am better now, ave been, rightly speaking, since first I came to e Pacific : and still, few are the days when I am ot in some physical distress. And the battle s on, — ill or well is a trifle, so it goes. I was for a cdfttest, and the Powers have so willed hat m^^^ttle-field shall be this dingy, inglorious bed and the physic bottle." test of the true greatness of a human buld hardly be found than in a statement his, f61')-«i Stevenson's memoirs, the domi- it note is*m cheer. There were red-letter days Samoa, when Inen crNlifferent races made the st of life in common, where all loved the man fciUeJji death so stubbornly and bore himself quiet street in a coast town has for its mistress and guiding spirit/;; a woman who, for a score of years, has been Hter- ally chained to a couch of pain, often a couch of torture. She has hidden her poor knotted hands under the coverlet, and smiled brightly when friends entered her oom. Anguish has beaded her brow, but has wrung no moan from her lips. Directing, controlling, influencing, arranging every process and every detail of her household economy, she has ordained red-letter days for husband and children, though she could not per- sonally share them. Music and gaiety have never been absent ; her boys have had their mother for their friend and counsellor, and have learned gentleness beside her bed. Their young com- panions have not been exiled from the house, nor obliged to restrain their mirth when in it, except that sometimes they have been cautione to tread softly when passing " Mother's " d( Though suffering and incurable invalidism h? been this mother's portion, the household annil saries have never known omission, and each bil day dinner, to the cake and the candles, have planned as though the mother m^^tjierself pre^ side at the table. [179 The Little Kingdom of Home There are red-letter days of which we never speak, but for which reverently and gratefully we thank God. Have we not had hours of tempta- tion when the struggle was long and severe, but when the better nature triumphed ? " For right is right, since God is God, And right the day must win. To doubt would be disloyalty ; To falter would be sin." For victories that only the angels witnessed we must raise our stones of memory. After repeated defeats and the trial of faith that follows hope deferred, we have had the joy of success. When Cyrus Field was laying the first Atlantic cable, the world looked on, doubt- ful that so strange and bold an undertaking could be carried forward, and the first failure was pted by most people on both sides of the ocean ly what might have been predicted. But Field had vision and had courage. He rose ulj^aunted and tried again. When final success and the message " What hath God s flashed beneath the waves from rid to the other, the nations had [iSo] a red-letter day, the glow of which has neve faded. After all, the children are to be first considered. Their right to a cloudless childhood should be respected by older people, and every little man and woman should have a birthday fete. Bless- ings on them, they are always going on, never standing still. They are grasping the future with their rosy fingers ; they tell you they are in their seventh year when, a week ago, they were only six. Let them have a party and a cake, and some beautiful surprise as often as a birthday dawns for them. Into their happy fairy-land, their innocent realm of make-believe, you and I may not pene- trate, having lost the key somewhere in the rub- bish heaps of experience and disillusion, but we will not try to draw them from it. Down green avenues, through its groves and dells, may wander, hand in hand, and, quite with our understanding, they may be princes princesses there. Childhood's realm has its o red-letter days. The most glorious ot^^f the whoje^yei children of every age |^mMm^^^^ eighfvT^s P C'8 Hiristmas Day. The angels sang its dawning, over the sleeping fields of Bethlehem, centuries ago, when " shepherds watched their flocks by night." A great white star, flaming in the sky, guarded the caravan of the three Eastern kings, Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar, until they came to the place where they found the young Child and His mother, and kneeling in the stable door, they ^red Him their gifts, gold and frankincense myrrh, [^rom that day till this we have been subjects the beautiful kingdom of the Child. And the ourselves like little children, simple md easily pleased, the more we love as f, and learn as children learn, the more ^nter that Kingdom of Heaven, which of the pure in heart. The Star rains its fire, ''" And WeC^sisSS^l sing, ^ethlehem > le that has a child in ^n^he globe, there is also the -thought of the Child who was the Son of God, J\^ but who slept in the arms of the sweet mother, Mary of Judea, who gave Him birth. Christmas is the red-letter day of every kindred, tribe, and nation. Wherever the sun now rises, it rises on some, hitherto in the darkness of heathendom, who are finding out the significance of the true light. We bring holly and cedar, pine and fir, mistle- toe and every green bough and spicy branch we can find in forest or thicket, and garland our houses and our churches in the Yule-tide. The shops glitter with the year's most bewildering variety of toys and stuflfs, jewels and furniture. One might do worse than travel leagues over land and sea, to mingle in the Christmas throngs. The streets are crowded with good-humored people intent on making somebody happy. When Christmas eve arrives, the twinklin tapers shine on millions of Christmas-trees, thq branches laden with presents, for old and youn On Christmas morning there are stir and bust- everywhere, for the stockings hang in the chim ney, and Santa Claus came downtn the night and filled them. Some of us dream that we h« [183] prancing hoofs of the reindeer on the house- tops, and some of us catch a ghmpse of his dear old face, as he looks with a laugh in his eye at the beds where the children sleep. It is only the churl who does not believe in the charming myth of Santa Claus. Only Mr. Gradgrind, clamoring for facts, and losing realities in the search for dry-as-dust statistics, is afraid to^ let the children pin their faith to the sweetest sa«int in the calendar. Gold and frankincense and myrrh! We bring them, too, the gold of penitence, the frankincense of devotion, the myrrh of love, and lay them at the feet of the Kingly Child. We, too, listen, and hear the clashing of the golden harps. Hark ! through earth's clangor falls the sweetness of a melody such as earth has never heard! The an- j;els sing ! Their song has never ceased. •» Still through the cloven skies they come With peaceful wings unfurled, And still celestial music floats O'er all the weary world. Above its sad and lonely plains, end on heavenly wing r o'er its Babel sounds essed angels sing ! " [184] " Christmas is the world's red-letter Close following it, the New Year enters. A purely- arbitrary division of time, yet with a feeling of relief we let the old year go, and welcome the new year in. «« Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky ! " We have made mistakes in the past ; we mean to rectify them. The New Year is the time for turning over new leaves. Welcome the white page! With care let us write on its stainless surface. Welcome the new number on our letters, the new date, the new chance to make amends for past failures and start on a new course of in- dustry, kindness, and the perseverance in well- doing that wins divine approval. In every home there is a thrill of hope, a^ breath of uplift at the sound of " A Happy Ne^ Year!" So it is Home's red-letter day I THE SINISTER INFLUENCE OF WORRY [187] 'ir.i?:>5tZ P ^OD keep us through the common di The level stretches white with dust, ^^hen thought is tired, and hands upraise ^ir burdens feebly, since they must, lays of slowly fretting care, ■n, most, we need the strength of praye [1 88] The Sinister Influence of Worry TO worry is the inevitable habit of the man or woman who has not learned the great lesson of living one day at a time. " Take short views ! " said Sydney Smith. Noth- ing so eats up the very fabric of the soul, wearing out courage and patience, and destroying good cheer, as does the disposition that worries. To- morrow, gaunt and spectral, threatening of aspect, foreboding disaster, blots out the sunshine of to-day for the one who worries. Usually we can bear the ills and troubles we have. Somehow we struggle through them, even against odds. When we lie awake at night or at two o'clock in the morning, fancying the possibj calamities that await us with the rising of sun, all our strength goes. We have no buoyat left, no fortitude, no vigor to resist, and we a! prostrate at the feet of our enemy. Worry is fruitful source of ill-health, low spirits, and^ sanity. The one who wc over a single misfortune, or overcrowding dis^ appointments and vexations, till the will is par- alyzed and the heart itself turns traitor, and the battle is lost. Women at home are tempted to the sin of worry by many little things which in the total make a large amount. They worry because they fear the husband and father is breaking in health. When he comes home, at nightfall, weary, per- laps cross, they note that his shoulders are round- and his hair that was black as the raven's 'ing is turning gray, and his temper is less jeery than it used to be. To his worry they imediatelyiflild their own, and the atmosphere trows h^^, and the home is dull. No wonder ie young people fly from it. The wife may have 'reason to look after her husband's health id s^58jfgth, but there are better ways than the to do this. Worry never yet cured in ill, it never soothed an ache or irksome load, or easier ills is in greater sim- d to this, as inestimable, serene faith. «' Look up and not down, Look out and not in, Look forward and not back, And lend a hand ! " Mothers worry because their sons are drifting into dangerous associations. Worrying first, they nag next, and nothing so kills filial confidence and accelerates a young man's downward fall as nag- ging and faultfinding. If you want people to be good you must make them happy. Girls worry lest they did not say the right thing, lest they made a wrong impression. The oversensitive nature is sure that it blundered, and worries lest it did some harm in deed or word. People who are in comfortable circum- stances worry lest they shall end in poverty. Rich people worry because they are not richer. Poor people worry about the rent and the coal bill a to-morrow's loaf. Deep lines are graven on h gard faces by worry. The anxious pucker tween the eyes, the crow's-feet, the drawn, tressed expression, indicative of a sleepless w for a coming ill, tell the sad life-story of ma a soul that has never been abl^^^o^se the pressure of carking care [191 The Little Kingdom of Home c^ § Ages before " Don't Worry " clubs were or- ganized for the help of women beleaguered on every side by timid and baleful thoughts, by sus- picions of lurking foes ready to pounce upon them, there was One in old Judea, who said, " Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, or yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? " Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature? And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin. And yet, I say unto you, that even Solo- in all h?6 glory was not arrayed like one ese. Wherefore if God so clothed the grass of the *d which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into yen, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye leTai^.^ , take no thought, saying what shall [192] The biaiitcr IiiJIueitce of J'Vorry 7^ We eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewithal^ shall we be clothed ? " For after all these things do the Gentiles seek, for your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. " But seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you. " Take, therefore, no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." This sublime passage from the Sermon on the Mount is the chart by which, if we sail, we shall not worry. The constant thought that we are in God's care, that his benignant love is over us, the realization that if we follow a noble ideal, God will aid us in the daily needs, will enabl us to walk valiantly and joyously on the ro not cringingly and servilely, as those who fe^ an attack they cannot foil. To live victoriously we must live in communio; with an unseen but present God ; to reign o whatever may oppose its^f to our tranquil posure, we must derive prayer. If you are tempted to worry, seel strength from above yourself. Tell the Father about the heartache, And tell Him the longings, too, Tell Him the baffled purpose, When we scarce know what to do: Then leaving all our weakness With the One divinely strong, Forget that we bore the burden, And carry away the song. MacDonald has said, " You have a dis- jreeable duty to do at twelve o'clock. Do not lacken nin^fand ten, and eleven, and all between ith tl:^xo\oT of twelve. Do the work of each, your reward of peace. So, when the loment in the future becomes the pres- lall meet it walking in the light, and overcome its darkness. The best iTls^ the present well seen to, the last keep the eye so clear ht that the right action , the right words will the lips, and the man, because he cares for [194] The Sinister Influence of Worry ■nothing but the will of God, will trample on the^ evil thing in love, and be sent, it may be, in a chariot of fire to the presence of his Father, or stand unmoved amid the cruel mockings of the men he loves." Our minds are very apt to run into ruts. We may establish a custom of fretting and forebod- ing from which we cannot easily escape. Yet how often have we found that the very things we most dreaded have melted away when we reached them. Grasp the nettle firmly and it will not hurt you. It is the hesitating, purposeless hand that is wounded. Anxiety about ways and means is natural enough, and the only remedy for it is a super- natural one, or, rather, a vital belief in that supernatural force which easily overcomes what is beyond our strength. The little child, walkirj with his father, fears nothing. It was Dav the shepherd boy, scarcely beyond his childho^ who vanquished the giant Goliath, and who to the great king, " Thy servant kept his fathj sheep, and there came both a lion and a bear ai took a lamb out of the flock. TlaaCiSetyant both the lion and the bear," [■95] The Little Kingdom of Home In childhood and youth we do not worry. It is the besetting sin of maturity, when we have lost the beautiful heart of childhood somewhere on the path, strewn with our needless defects and our broken resolves. Solicitude on our own ac- count is less wearing than undue anxiety about others. The woman who lives as some, alas ! do, under the menace of an ill that only the surgeon's knife can cure, is braver, more sanguine, more heroic, than her friends, who die a hundred deaths in fearing hers. Yet this worry only decreases our courage and saps our strength. We are not able to be at our best when with the invalid. Our faces darken her sky. Here, too, we can only " rest in the Lord and wait patiently for him." The only elevation high enough to feel no breath of earthly worry, is the table-land of faith ur divine helper. good deal of our worry has its root in im- ence. We are like children who plant f^mvers and pull them up to see them grow. Hurry and worry are twin fiends, who lay waste "Gtif '^rd ened by long campaign M'$x. vV a stoicism not to be found in the brilliant but untrained volunteer. Life does little for us, if it do not so mould us that we may be sovereigns over our original temperament, that we may over- come the handicaps of heredity, that we may be strong, though when we started out we were weak. A characteristic of all malarious germs is to spread subtly and undermine treacherously, wher- IT they obtain a foothold. One worrying per- ^n in a household lowers the tone of all. One 10 worries, where others are cheerful and brave, [roduces co^i^rdice and the temptation to desert orry, in its malignant forms, is a plague, and may lead to almost ul end. The despair that eventuates ate dread was born of a small worry, ain ground in the garden of the how may it be over- given : in recourse It may spring from iiitense absorption in a erwork. The man ^rs at his desk in the The Sinister Influence of PVorry office when he ought to leave it and go home the woman who spends her vitahty recklessly in the elaborate clothing she makes for her children, the householder who mortgages his property that he may live in a style befitting his wealthier neighbor, the citizen who runs for an office and breaks his heart over a defeat, the student ambitious to excel and yet fond of pleasure, who therefore burns his candle at both ends, all invite worry by the unwise preoccupation of their lives, and the burdens too heavy for their strength. A business man who never takes a vacation, a devoted mother who never leaves her children for so much as a night, a slave of any sort, whose tasks become compulsory and is driven by his or her work, is in peril of worry by reason of that work. The ethical value of rest is not appreciated it should be in a complex and relentless civili tion like ours. Primitive peoples do not wor< Where the artificial wants are few, and the sires are quickly satisfied, brain-fag is unknov Wherefore it has come to pass that nerve specia ists amass fortunes, that sanitarlun'is are crowde that nervous exhaustion and other fonns of [199] nervous malady are multiplied, and, in the midst of their years and activities, people are laid aside, and sent for rehabilitation to a rest-cure. Why should not every home be a rest-cure ? For the overworked woman, daily rest of the whole of her, mind and body alike, is important. Her half-hour before or after luncheon, in which she lies down, thinks of nothing, sleeps if she can, and fully relaxes, will add years to her life. Women often fret because they are far too weary. The voice is a good barometer. If its tones begin to sharpen and its cadences are too jerky, its inflections too emphatic, the signal is for stormy weather. Stop, rest, be silent. Never let the day pass that has not its blessedness of silent time, morning, noon, or night. Ah ! cries the busy housemother, where am I find my pause for rest? If, literally, you can- ifind it in your own house, run away from ind hire a room next door. That will cost than a voyage across the Atlantic, or three >nths in a sanitarium. Should death slip in, ^ould get on without you. Indis- are to their comfort, they would [200] j^ The Sinister Influence of Worry somehow manage to live should you be sent to- the insane asylum. To dominate the tendency to worry is the manifest and present duty of every woman, and every man who loves his home and longs to serve the Lord and humanity. [201] [203] [204] CHAPTER XIII. The House of Feasting FROM remote antiquity the impulse of the liost has been to offer entertainment to the guest in the breaking of bread. The wayfarer appeahng to the desert tent is made free of loaf and cup. A king in his palace can do no more for a princely visitor than to give him bed and board. The true essence of hospitality is in the spirit, and not in the letter. Soon after our Civil War I was invited to share a meal in a Virginia home, which, liter- ally, had been swept by fire and sword until little remained of it but the empty shell of what was once an ample mansion equipped with ever^ luxury. There was nothing to eat that day ej cept corn bread baked on the coals, and a cu| of coffee, but the gracious air with which plain refreshment was served has lingered memory ever since. Not what we give, but heart behind the gift, makes true hospitc " Tlie gift without the; The Little Kingdojn of Home In new countries, where the elemental virtues^ prevail, there is seldom hesitation in asking any one, friend or stranger, to partake of what one has, the family cheerfully consenting to sit closer, or resign their sleeping-places, if needed, that the welcome guest may be accommodated under the roof. Most of us recall, with a shade of surprise at its contrast between present conditions, the open-handed, large-hearted hospitality of the old ^ome on the farm, or of the village in which we children. Gradually, in the more complex Jrdering of American life, a change has crept '^er household economy, as well as our house- In cities where thousands of obliged to live in apartments, and in ry inch of room is valuable, it is no custom to have company as freely as some cases, where the bonds of kin- I firmly, or where old friends cling Eions, people do not mind turning encampments, though logy or a half-whimsi- 'mjuryP I have known more lye given up life in the >f quarters at a hotel, in order that they might rid themselves of the, incursions of superfluous friends and relatives, whom they did not wish any longer to entertain. The passing of the guest-chamber is a feature of our time. Yet, in the true home, there should be, if possible, a provision made for the housing, and otherwise accommodating, the transient or the permanent friend of the family, who comes with acclaim, and brings joy. The outsider brings in a breath of something different and an- imating, breaks the rigidity of the routine, en- livens the home group, induces the practice of courtesy, and assists in more ways than one in educating the children. The home is twice a home if it allow a margin for real hospitality. Shall we glance at the guest-chamber as it should be, granting that one can spare a place to^ be thus set aside? It may be large or small, cording to the house to which it appertains, think of one guest-chamber, called in the beaut} mansion, where I have enjoyed its privileges, Chamber of Peace. In the morning it is flooc with sunshine, and all day long the trees wa^ their branches outside its w^^^^^^ Nothii has been omitted in this state! [207]' The Little Kingdom of Home minister to the comfort and convenience of any- guest, yet it is not more perfect, in its way, than a Httle corner room, a third its size, in a smaller house, where also a gracious hospitality is fre- quently exercised. The first necessity of the guest-chamber is a good bed, on which a tired body may find re- freshing sleep and a tired mind lose itself in happy dreams. Lace coverlets and embroidered pillow- shams may be done without, but mattress, springs, sheets, and pillows should all be excellent of their kind. The guest should have needful toilet ar- rangements in this room, including every little thing that refined people expect in their dressing and undressing. A table with a book or two, note-paper and envelopes, pens and ink, a calen- dar, sewing materials, a hand-mirror, pins, in short, whatever a person away from home may jsibly be in want of, should belong to the fur- ing of the guest-room, [t is not wise to greatly vary the ordinary- table for the guest who is staying indefi- ly, or whose visit extends over a week or jests who are specially invited for iould have special attentions in the [208] 'way of a dainty or elaborate menu, and more thar ordinary elegance in the table appointments. The successful hostess does not, however, put her- self out so that she neglects her usual engage- ments when guests are staying in her house. It is much better that their mornings, at least, should be left to their own discretion, so that they may write their letters, read, go out if they please, and regulate their time to suit their own wishes. Until the hour of luncheon, the hostess should leave her guests comparatively free, and herself feel free to be occupied with her accustomed duties. Plans for the later day, invitations to friends who are to meet the guest, excursions, rides, drives, theatre parties, or whatever else may be on foot, are purposely arranged before- hand, so that there may be no lack of enjoyable occasions while the guest remains under the cat of the hostess. It is well, in sending an invif tion, to indicate the expected or desired len^ of a visit, and also to state by what train or h( the guest would better travel. If she is to be m( at the station, information on that point not be omitted. Tlie rule applied^ guest is not at all alterf ^ party. People who live in large country houses j-^ often give themselves the great pleasure of en- tertaining a company of friends at one time, and they simply do for a number what they would do were they merely entertaining a single friend. When one is admitted as a guest to a house of feasting, one should be careful to bring to it the best that is in his or her power. An unre- sponsive guest, who receives everything as a mat- of course, and carelessly disregards the usages the family, is late at prayers or at meals, who rgets the obligation of deference due to the id members of the household, if such there \, may be^^ieJr^ventionally gently bred, but lacks le real/sl^'mp of good training and refinement. Is, through thoughtlessness, are some- attrioying to punctilious hostesses. For instap^^a college girl may invite two or three i of her friends to spend the Christmas or Easter holidays at her home. These girls may or may not commend the^^j^^o the mother of their classmate. They, may satoknow it, but they are ey^ in the home where approval or disapproval o the home training [210] they have had. io a cdiciui uusicas n is nut // quite agreeable to have her pretty guest-chamber look as if it had been struck by a cyclone, when a careless young woman flings her shoes in one direction, her wrap in another, and her things in general all over the place. A thrifty house- keeper is not pleasantly impressed by the guest who is conspicuously w^asteful in the matter of gas or electric light, leaving the lights turned on at full pressure for hours, when they are not needed at all. The man of the house seldom likes to have young people late at meals. A little thought about little things makes all the differ- ence in the world between an agreeable and a disagreeable guest. Visitors should at certain times efface them- selves, as every family likes at certain seasons to be alone. A visitor should have individuaj^^^*^^'- resources, and not be a dead-weight on tl hands of the hostess. Guests should be care! not to make unnecessary work for servants, wl they should also not officiously take the work' the servants upon their own hands. The fact 15 that, in all human relations, common sense is a commodity which greatly eas< [211] The Little Kingdom of Home & .helps along the ordinary cares of the day. A saint without common sense may be an extremely trying companion; a sinner with it may possess that which enables one to condone many offences. To our house of feasting, from time to time, come angels unexpected. If there happen to be a convention in our town, or a conference, or a meeting of the Synod, something that calls to- gether a number of strangers, who must be en- tertained in hospitable homes, friendships are often formed with those who come to us for a day or two, or perhaps for a week, and these friendships add greatly to the outlook and breadth of our lives. In the finest hospitality there is always an element of something beyond the grosser forms, of something that has to do with mind and heart and soul. The very effort that is made to be in sympathy with one who jes from any environment other than our own itself an opportunity, and tends to make us, narrow and provincial, but citizens of the rid. Oman is, of course, the presiding genius of in a sense, the author and finisher !es. The habitual manner of the [212] home, the habitual bearing toward guests, never rises higher than the character and breeding of the mother. One may be able to entertain sump- tuously, or may have but a crust to offer; in either case, it is, as has been said before, the spirit, and not the letter that is important. " You are getting to be a society woman," said an underbred person to a little lady who had come from a backwoods town to live in Wash- ington. " I have always been a society woman," was the quiet reply, and it was true, for, in the little home under the shoulder of the hill, she had not scrupled to give the finest entertainment within her power to all who crossed her threshold. Emerson says, " The worth of the thing signi- fied must vindicate our taste for the emblem. Everything that is called fashion and courtesy humbles itself before the cause and fountain honor, creator of titles and dignities, namely, t heart of love. This is the royal blood, this fire which, in all countries and contingencies, v work after its kind and conquer and expand that approaches it. This gives new meanin every fact. This impov^ijghes the pch,,,suffeHng no grandeur but its you rich enough to help anybody? to succor th( unfashionable and the eccentric? rich enough to make the Canadian in his wagon, the itinerant with his consul's paper, which commends him " to the charitable," the swarthy Italian with his few broken words of English, the lame pauper hunted by overseers from town to town, even the poor insane or besotted wreck of man or woman, feel Jhe noble exception of your presence and your ^use from the general bleakness and stoniness; make such feel that they were greeted with a )ice which made them both remember and hope ? rar but to refuse the claim on acute reasons? What is gentle but to md give their heart and yours one the national caution? Without the f, wealth is an ugly beggar. The King juld not afford to be so bountiful as who dwelt at his gate. Osman nd deep that, although free with the Koran vishes, yet there was eccentric, or insane man, lis beard, or who had , or had a pet madness in his brain, but fled at once to him; that great, heart lay there so sunny and hospitable in the centre of the country that it seemed as if the instinct of all sufferers drew them to his side. And the madness which he harbored he did not share. Is not this to be rich? this only to be rightly rich? " The bane of the diffident and retiring among us, is a hampering self-consciousness. All their days, some excellent souls shrink, like the sensitive plant, from contact with their fellows. They dread to meet strangers. " How shall I behave, what shall I do," if placed in this or that situation, is asked with urgency by those unused to society. Much of this altogether gratuitous misery could be saved, could indeed be rendered impossible, if a frank and simple hospitality were practised in the home. Ministers' families, accustomed the ebbing and flowing tides of gtiests in t parsonage, from the grave and stately person distinction, to the man of low estate, learn bey others the grace of the cordial welcome. I told of a noted evangelist that in the season of revival, a man with a drawn ajPid haggard coun tenance rang the door-bell. A little girl of, [215] The Little Kingdom of Home fl opened the door. When the stranger asked for her father she repHed that he was not at home, but added, " If you are a poor sinner, come in, and mother will talk to you." No self -consciousness burdened this dear child, who knew that people sought her parents for comfort in their soul- straits. Another pretty story is related of our Revolu- tionary War. When in its darkest period of stress and gloom, General Washington was once enter- tained in the home of a friend ; as he was taking leave, a little daughter of the house stood at the door, to close it after him. " I could wish you a better office, my dear," said the courtly general. Yes," she answered with a low courtesy, " To open it for you again." Grace of manner and charm of speech are imable aids to success in this world of emula- id competition. Southern men and women, ing, deferential, considerate, with that touch autocrat in their bearing which comes from inherited association with an irry all before them. Especially ig in address, and at ease in all [216] :ompany. They have Hved in the constant habit of hospitahty, the latch-string always loose for their friends, the roof always broad enough to afford shelter to kindred and acquaintance. If they win their way more easily than others, it is because back of them has been the home train- ing of centuries in the gentle amenities of life. Sweet are the rose perfumes that float ever- more from the house of feasting. [217] [219] From the limited sphere to the infinite space; We are mistaken, who deem they are dead ; They Hve and they love in the light of God's face. [220] The House of Mourning " There is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there ; There is no household howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair." SWIFTLY glide the charmed hours in the house of feasting. Slowly they creep in the house of mourning. Immune we may be from a thousand perils, but none of us is immune from death, and on the day that marks our birth, in some book of the recording angel, by an unerr- ing law of destiny the day of our death is entered. Lx)ng years of labor that we love, of enthusiasm in friendship, of amassing stores material or spiritual ; then comes an interval of weakness, it may be a sudden breaking of the silver cor7 and the end of all, for this life. Thank God, this only ! " Sunset and evening star And one clear call for me, And may there be nc^oanmg When I put out to some people, one can never associate death. They are so vital, so magnetic, so full of plans and enterprises, they mean so much to those around them, that it seems as if death must stand aside, nor dare to in- terrupt them in mid-career. The young wife, the mother, the man in his prime, how can their world spare them; what could we do without them? Alas, there dawns a day when we are face with the terrible blank, that their made ; we learn that, shorn of gladness, ling hearts, with senses dulled, with tear- eyes, we must go on. We have still The work of the dear ones us, the only thing is to gather :nts that remain, to occupy ourselves the well-being of the living, not grief for the dead wholly to sap make us unjust to those who en tjjie man <5$>^ii^Muse is taken, and with hlrn ceases the fs^mUx income, much real suffer- is entailed, and^^Tts'^i^e is so sharp as to iteness of the wound to of sorrow is not as- ,«uaged, but it cannot be indulged. Said a woman who came to a great house week by week, to do the family washing of another, who, in widow's weeds, trailed down the marble staircase and through the wide halls, going day by day, in storm and shine, to weep beside the grave of the husband she had adored : " If Mrs. had six children to feed and the rent to pay, she'd be better off than she is. I'm broken-hearted for Johnny, but I've Johnny's children to care for, and I can't be crying into my wash-tubs." One's pity deepens when one remembers the women who have been love-shielded from every rough wind, watched over in sickness and in health, most gently and unremittingly cared for, who are obliged, often with little preparation, to find something to do, some means of earning their own support. They prove how amazing is elasticity of woman, and how great is her couraj when they rise to the need of the hour, and brave hands to whatever work comes first. One hardly sees how it is to be brought aboi unless for the sake of those who cannot ai ford inordinate display, the richifjnaY consent. [223] to greater simplicity in the matter of funeral, customs. Among our friends in the Shaker commun- ities, the expense of burial is minimized to an extreme bareness. The coffin, of plain pine, is covered with a cheap muslin. Asceticism, having been the law of life for these good people, ex- tends its iron hand over them as they lie in the last sleep, and forbids anything beyond actually necessary outlay upon their caskets and their graves. Here the pendulum swings too far in the direction of simplicity. Yet we may receive from them a useful hint. The actual and immediate pressure that falls upon family resources when a death occurs, is exceedingly trying to all except the very wealthy. Funerals are beset with expenses. It is not too much to say that the inexperienced, ^se who for the first time go through the iLtrending ordeal of the death and burial of le one who is as their own flesh and blood, aghast at the costliness of every detail. The cet of oak, or rosewood, or mahogany, with ^of silver, and its lining of satin, irniture which has a fancy price [224] swallows up a sum that would have supported its tenant many months during life. The flowers, the carriages, the hymns sung, the whole order of the most modest funeral, must be paid for in solid cash. The grave itself is a bit of real estate that has a commercial appraisement amazing when one thinks of it as six feet of earth. At the moment, the mourners do not stop to count the cost, but the undertaker's bills come to them, if they are people of moderate means, as an unexpected and woeful weight fastened to them when grief is already dragging them down. Cremation is less expensive than burial, but to many it is in its details so harrowing, and the thought of burning the precious dead is so terrible, that they cannot entertain the idea this sort of mortuary disposition. Among t very poor, who have an unconquerable aversi to thrift in matters where the dead are o cerned, and a pride in the pomp and pageant of the scene, the funeral often almost swall the little life insurance Jhat has been lefti-^or a rainy day. '^^ conducting the last rites paid to those who have gone, we may show our hope in the hereafter, our behef in immor- tahty, and our confidence in the promises of God. We may do this, as we may, quite unin- tentionally, do precisely the reverse. Why should the obsequies of the Christian be altogether gloomy? If we are sure that death is but tran- sition, but a stepping from one room in God's liverse to another, but a going on to fuller, :her development, can we not have something )mforting, something triumphant in the prayers, Scripture lesson, and the singing, which are 5sociated with our memory of the '^eulogy of the dead is not to be de- rose whose hearts are stricken in the do not need to hear an epitome of le's virtues, and indeed, unless the ^man be a man of great tact and he will either say too much or md, at meSacfeS hour of deepest grief, shoulduiBjt be asked to listen to the a life^^' Whatever is possible graphical sketch would always better be published in a newspaper, or in a memorial leaflet that may be sent to friends. No one is expected to reply immediately to the letters of condolence that come from far and near upon tidings of the death. The wound is too poignant, the heart too lacerated for this effort, and often the hand is too tired. If a long and severe illness has preceded a death, the care- takers are often at the end of their strength when the last rites are over. Excitement and the need for action kept them up and helped them not to break down, but when there is no longer the occasion for ministry, they sink down exhausted and almost lifeless. Thev do not wish to seem ungrateful or insensible, but they cannot summon resolution to answer the friends whose letters have brought them a real solace and a ^^ real cheer. Never should we hesitate to se ''•-'^- a word of sympathy to one in bereavement, we have the impulse and our acquaintance j fies our entering with the friend into the val of the shadow. But we must not demand answer. A sufficient acknowledgment is mad« if a visiting-card be sent with " pathy " inscribed thereon. A [227] The Little Kingdo?n of Ho7ne .not likely to be generally adopted, on account of its expense, is to send an engraved card, in black letters on white ground with black edge, stating that the family of the one gone, de- sire to express gratitude to those who have sent assurances of sympathy. In this formal ex- pression of acknowledgment a blank may or may not be left for the individual name, and the third person is to be used. One should not be hampered by conventions in the hour of affliction. Then, if ever, there should be patience, and the bruised nature given a chance to recover its tone, and once more take up the duties that death interrupts for the living, but does not wholly remove. Looking back a few years, we are appalled at the invasions death has made in the ranks of our friends. The whole landscape changes, so often familiar figures removed, and new adjust- t:s are forever taking place, because those *care most for and lean most upon are taken us. irable loss seems to be that of little -edged is the sword that cuts the child's opening life. So much [228] 'promise, so much anticipation, so much gladness and elation are in the heart which holds the treasure of children, that the little casket throws a shadow long enough to blot the whole earth. Those who fancy that it is a small thing to fold baby hands and shut baby beauty away under a daisied coverlet, do not know of what they speak. The plummet has never been found that can measure the fathomless depths of a mother's love for a tiny infant that she carried under her heart ere it saw the light, and in her arms for a blissful space, only to have it snatched out of her sight. The child's constant depend- ence on the mother leaves the latter with empty hands as well as aching breast when there is nothing more to do; only tears to shed over the little worn shoes, and the frocks laid away in a drawer by themselves. Does God send trouble ? The question has b asked ten thousand times in the last hour, those who have seen the desire of their he removed. Too often those who attempt th hard task of consolation say piously : " It is iiie will of God, you must n^t complain. It isx^^m His hand the blow hstSJ^Q^i^^kEKf^JYOf^WSBBit God doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve tht children of men. He knoweth our frame. He remembereth that we are dust." God allows trouble; He does not always send it. When children die of some disease engendered by neglect of sanitary precautions, or when diph- theria, typhoid fever, or smallpox lays waste a township, and the new graves in the cemetery are like the ridges in a ploughed field, we must )t blame the Almighty. Nor does devotion re- fiiire that in our hour of anguish, when the Is lie thick on the house of mourning, we id feel that a divine interposition fs asunder, and darkened our sun at arles Cuthbert Hall, D. D., writing bject, says : " God hates death. Death ; much as ours. Death is a cat- blot on creation. God's procla- ainst death is explicit and oft repeated. cTent prophecy of Hosea : m the power of the em from death. Oh, ues. Oh, Grave! I ruction.' 'Death is not the out- come of God's will. Death is the outcome oi/t natural law, the effect of natural causes, in a created order perverted and spoiled by sin. ' By- man, sin entered into the world, and death by sin.' Scarlet fever smites the temple of the dear child's body and leaves it a ruin. We torture our hearts to make them say this fearful para- dox : 'God's will has done this ; therefore, I turn to God to comfort me.' How many hearts have bled, blasphemed, and broken, in the ex- cruciating effort to ask comfort from Him who killed the child? We try to train ourselves to believe that this is ' kissing the rod.' We are wrong. 'What took this child away?' Shall we say the will of God? No, let us say the truth : bad drainage and germ-infection. And God sorrows with us as much as any earthlyj^ friends, for He no more did it than did th ' ^^^ What does it mean then : * The Lord gave the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the na of the Lord ? ' The Hebrew is clear : ' Lord gave and the Lord hath received, ble be His name.' Who could bless the Lord i taking away our beloved? But w^'Can* bless H that, since the sad and broken natural orde: •disease and death has conquered our loved one, the Lord has received to His eternal paradise the spirit we loved. Once only in the Bible, so far as I know, is it said of a human being : * God took him away,' and that man was Enoch — who did not die. God, for some reason, made him an exception to the natural order." There is deep consolation in believing that " There is no death, what seems so is transition." Beyond the confines of this earthly life, there is a life that will go on forever. In that life, in the home " where there is neither sickness, nor parting, nor sorrow, nor crying," we shall find again and keep to all eternity the dear ones we lose here. Those who study the Book of God, must see how full of comfort it is, in the glimpses so given of a world of activity, delight, love, when we have left this world behind The rustle of angelic wings, the music of l^elic songs, fill the Bible from Genesis to jvelation. In the place where emancipated |there will be such life, such glad- pledge, such progress as here we Iream of, much less comprehend. [232] " Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, the, thing God hath laid up for them that love Him." " In my father's house," says our blessed Lord, " are many mansions. If it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. I will come again and receive you unto myself." All the analogies of Nature are full of con- solation to those who tarry awhile in the house of mourning. The daisies come every June. The roses never fail us. The leaves drop in the autumnal gale, but new leaves will bourgeon with the spring. In the coldest sleet and wildest snow, we are sure that a morning will break when the robins shall sing and the flowers appear on the earth, and Nature call to us in her silver tones, *' The winter is past. The rain is over and gone. Rise up, my beloved, my fair one, and cor away." [235] [STRESS of all she surveys, her right there is none to dispute. They who envy the lady with a train of servants, know little of her cares. The true autocrat does her own work. [236] CHAPTER XV. Queen of One's Own Kitchen NOTWITHSTANDING the incessant discussion of the servant problem, a problem rapidly taking rank with others that rear their threatening heads against the peace of the nation, menacing its security from within, there are fortunate beings whom it never troubles. In complete immunity from the fric- tion, the fuss and the agitation that accompany vexed and disturbed relations with domestics, the gentlewoman, who is in her own kitchen queen and mistress, pursues the even tenor of her way. There is not a corner of the land in which she may not be found, this competent, quiet, an accomplished person who habitually does h work with her own hands, asking little outsij, assistance, her family, as a matter of coui rendering help according to their ability, reigns in her blissful independence in the pact city flat, where a superfluous, but would; The Little Kingdom of Home ,to the living rooms where the household desire privacy. She is undisputed sovereign in thou- sands of charming village homes, and as on the farm north or south, she is exceptional who can secure and retain good hired help, the farmer's wife is, as a rule, the efficient manager and worker who finds her kitchen a pleasant realm. A kitchen where there is no servant is apt to be a much more home-like place than that presided (er by Norah, or Selma, or Phyllis, or Gretchen. 51ack or white, German, Swedish, Irish, or Jsiatic, the servant, however skilful, diligent, devoted, does not impart to the scene of his ist the air of radiant domesticity the touch of the mistress, home kitchen, that for convenience [:he family dining-room as well, is ■ful, and clean. It has plants in the they bloom as if they love to re- tend them. A cat basks beside lakes himself at home ler of the hearth. No home thal^ias not these friendly animals, as part of its They do not speak 'Otir language, but their eyes, their voices, their responsive affection, speak plainly as articulate v^'ords to those whom they love. Suspect and beware of those whom they do not love. A cat's aversions are more subtle and capricious than the honest dislikes of a dog, but the mys- terious little being with the emerald eyes and the electric fur does not put herself out to hate anybody who has not a soul malevolent toward her and hers. The man w^hom a dog distrusts, is not a safe man to meet on a dark road in a lonesome w^ood. Animals have keen percep- tions, and I am not sure that they have not a strangely familiar acquaintance at times with beings who hover near us, undetected by our dull vision. One need not believe in ghosts and goblins, to feel that sometimes the supernatural approaches the natural so closely that the separat^^ ing gulf is hardly more than a narrow three of silent stream. Whether or not dogs and c? speak, there are fathomless depths that they km at times. And they are aristocrats in their o^ degree, and shun the kitchens where maids beaj sway, while they are at home in^ the family. [239] The Little Kingdom of Home ci ^ ~ 1 Father and the boys bring in the wood, bring- up the coal, go on errands to the cellar, and va- riously lend a hand, indoors and out, when the mother does the work. If they refuse or shirk their proper share, they are not of the stuff of which good Americans are made. I have known a husband to do the family washing, wringing, and hanging out on the clothes-line included, rather than permit his delicate wife to undertake so hard a task. This was in a part of the country where hired help was not to be had for love or money. I have eaten bread mixed and kneaded during winter by the hands of the man of the house, his wife not being strong and being encumbered with the care of her little children. A manly young fellow in New England, leading his class alike in study and sport, does not ob- ject in vacations to giving his mother and sisters ft with the ironing. There is no reason why and boys, who, as soldiers and sailors, neers, and frontiersmen, do excellent work lines of cooking and keeping everything neat shipshape^ should not, at need, help their dear e. They object to helping a paid [240] Momestic, but they find it delightful to help wife mother, or sister. A man said the other day, speaking of his childhood, that among his most treasured remi- niscences were the recollections he had of child- hood, when on winter mornings he took turns with his brothers in baking griddle-cakes for breakfast. " Somehow," he added, " homes were more intimate places then than now. Fam- ilies were knitted together more closely." The woman who does her own work brings to bear upon it intelligence, order, and pains- taking. She does not work all day long. Her mornings may be busy, but if she have daugh- ters to help her, they make a frolic of the hardest tasks. Little snatches of song, ripples of laugh- ter, a flowing stream of conversation, diversify the work. They forget that to some it wou be drudgery. Nothing is drudgery that o likes, and thoroughly understands. The elemental necessity of good housekeepi is a fire. The Indian woman in her tepee cari not cook without her fire on the hearth, am her highly civilized white sister, in the Gfibst approved modern kitchwE^iiiCSBi^^^ scientific i/T-y, The Little Kingdom of Home appliance, must have her fire, in stove or range. If she have gas or electricity to heat her ovens and boil her kettles and simmer her saucepans, her task is the easier. The majority of house- wives burn wood or burn coal in a range. If the latter, the fire may be kept burning in- definitely by a judicious use of dampers, and care in feeding the flame. Constant domestic work is hard upon the hands, but the woman (ho chooses to do so may protect hers by the of mops, and by rubber gloves, so that her mds are not reddened and roughened by hot Is, nor blistered by the broom and scrubbing- ish. Inordthate vanity about white and soft found in women who do their ;rson ; they have not time for such |considerations, and if they think of they reflect that the really beautiful 'fend that toils for others' well-being. t>reakfast is over and the children are IS her day before her, break her fine china, o^ the floor, or scorch ler towels for stove-lift- reckless touch, may sit down in her rocking-chair and rest, may read her Bible or the morning- paper. She may write a letter to her mother in Kansas, or her brother in the Philippines. True, there are beds to be made, and a meal to be prepared for the midday coming of some of the family, but there will be plenty of time. When one does her own work, there is never any lack of time. Hurry and flurry and fuming and fidgeting are unknown quantities. If there is a baby, now is the time for his morning bath. If there is an invalid, now she is made comfortable for another day. If the lady's husband be a doctor or a minister, or a storekeeper with his work near home, a man, in short, who is by way of stopping in at home for a chat at odd moments of the day, he finds his wife at leisure to hear about . the patient who needs broth and beef tea, or^-^s^J;' the people who are bringing some new ben( fits to the parish, or the investment that he considering. The wife who has leisure to list to her husband when he feels that he has leisi to talk, and who is interested in his topics, Ts the wife who remains young and,„ beautiful in his eyes to the latest day of h4 [243] The Little Kingdom of Home ■V/ V Arcady is not invariably reached by the woman who does her own work. She is often far too weary; often she is worn out by the bondage of routine. To rise every morning at dawn, or soon after, to prepare breakfast, dinner, and supper for hungry people, day in and day out, year after year, to sweep, dust, clean house, make beds, sew, mend, darn stockings, and attend to the numerous little and large duties that be- long to the simplest household, in time becomes burdensome. It is said that in hospitals for the insane there are many women who have lost their mental balance through the monotony of lonely lives, depressed by never-ending, still beginning toil, unbroken by recreation, or whole- some diversion. The woman who does her own work should so manage it, that it shall never leave her exhausted in body and brain. When often happens, nature is showing a danger- il, and the warning must not go unheeded. have known a farmer's wife in a sparsely tied community, whose sole opportunity for ting and talking with other women in a )orly fashion came once a year lltural fair was held in the shire [244] town some miles away. There were no religions" services near enough for her regular attendance, and there were no homes adjacent to hers. An- other woman, splendidly loyal and faithful, did her work without repining, nursing her babies, cheerfully toiling beyond her strength, and never giving a thought to the luxuries of her girlhood's home, until, after some weeks of suffering, her little daughter died. When she sat at the win- dow, with another little one in her arms, fever- flushed and drawing painful breaths, and saw her husband carrying on his shoulder the coffin he had made, and going alone over snowy fields to bury their darling, her courage and health alike gave out. The tragedies of women's hearts in the desolation of the pioneer-life are pathetic in the intensity of despair. When the home tasks grow so heavy th< nervous prostration or the relief of death up in the fast approaching future, a sensijj woman will, at any cost, make a break for fi dom. No doubt it will be inconvenient for to leave John and the children, while she Oflfys a visit to her mother, Oj^iSn old sqhoolmat^^^t should that angel whc step over her door-sill, and slip his hand intO' hers, she would go, not for a week or a month, but forever from the home where she seems in- dispensable. The value of a little break, a little holiday, a little play-spell, is not to be computed in a column of figures : it belongs to the intan- gible assets that are of greater worth than diamonds or gold. Queen of her kitchen realm, if the tired woman do nothing else, she can, on occasion, let tr work go. In the twentieth century home lere should be labor-saving appliances, so that, need be, a child could, to some extent, relieve motheji.<^ the turn of a faucet or the touch The pantry may be supplied with foods, so that a cereal may be shaken paper box, and a meal m'ay emerge j:an, and the mother, too worn to and mix and mingle, may serve with delicious viands that jthe price of a doctor's visits. ^omanr?3^iOuld know how to fold her w^en she is nearing the rces. Then it is that iarpened,''and the tension is so great that the weakest place may snap. A sud- den stroke is not always sudden. Long ago it might have been prevented, had plain warn- ings been noted. A daily rest early In the afternoon, or just before supper, is imperative, if women would keep well and strong. Unless this is a matter of principle, most women neglect it, and pay the penalty. We do not understand how much is gained by loosening all tight clothing, and lying down for a half-hour, or by sitting still in an easy chair, the feet on a hassock, and the mind enlivened by an entertaining book. Simplicity is the open secret of wholesome living for the housekeeper, and most of all, it is her salvation if she can carry on her home duties unaided. The heavier work in some places can be taken by women who go out by the daj where no help can be obtained, there shouj be care taken that the clothing of the famj has little elaboration, and the laundry work shot, be abbreviated. Instead of fine linen tat cloths that must be laundered with care, use white oilcloth that may be wiped off after meal, and serve every purpose of cleanllni^ss^ [247] refinement. Simplify everywhere. Make no pies or rich cake. Pastry has given dyspepsia and melancholy born of it, to generations of men and women who would have thriven and been cheerful on ripe fruit and stale bread. Simplify in the number of rooms heated and used. Sim- plify in all non-essentials Most of our wants are artificial; when we get down to the must- haves they are few. Dr. John Brown has told us a story of a painter, to whose studio came a young artist inquiring and investigating. " With what do you mix your colors? " quoth the latter. " With brains, sir," was the quick reply. Tlie successful housekeeper, queen of her kitchen, must manage her work, not with hands only, but with brains. [248] [249] ^I^TpHEY to whom we owe most for commoni/-^it place comfort are those who work out of "sight, in lowly places. They rise early, sit up late, and have burdens to bear little dreamed of by those who employ them. Every home should consider its faithful servants as friends. [250] CHAPTER XVI Domestic Toil and Toilers SIDE by side with other difficult problems that concern the security and peace of the nation, not less insistent and baffling, though of more restricted scope than the others, is the problem of domestic service. It may not rise to the gravity of the race problem, which is assuming proportions so formidable, nor may it be men- tioned in the same hour with the vital issues of the problem of labor and capital, yet it comes home with equal importance to every hearth. Endlessly is it agitated wherever women meet. It forms the staple argument in women's clubs, and disturbs the smooth ripple of conversation at dinners a social functions. Largely this question belongs to the twenti century and to the years which have follov the Civil War and the period of reconstructi Although thousands of American women ar happily independent of servants anutnelfvri^ai because they do their own work, there are L^ts The Little Kingdom of Home f^ 13 .of other women who can afford to pay good wages, and accordingly much prefer to have the routine work of the home done for them by hired helpers. As the nation grows in wealth, and luxuries are multiplied, the standard of domestic service has been gradually raised. Families whose mothers and grandmothers did their own work, and found it no burden, in these days employ one, two or three maids. As yet it is unusual for us, except when we are very rich, to have so large an establishment as people of rather moderate incomes find agreeable in England and on the continent. There, however, wages are much lower than with us, and duties for each servant are more clearly defined. The scale of wages here has been steadily rising in the last few decades, and whereas just before the Civil War wages for housemaids were from five ight dollars per month ; for cooks, from eight ^elve dollars, and for other servants in like [o, at present the untried, untaught novice, ''iving from a peasant home in the old world, and receives a generous wage, while there somtely^io limit to the demands made by inS^' capable. A good cook commands [252] almost any price. In certain parts of any large city, all the servants are more highly paid than they are in certain other parts of the same place. As there is no altruistic standard which thus far has prevailed among employers, a house- keeper who for any reason chooses to give her maids two or three dollars more weekly or monthly than her neighbors are giving causes a feeling of dissatisfaction through the neigh- borhood, and immediately a storm brews which is not in proportion to fitness or amount of labor and upsets the peace of the entire street. Wages are unequal. They are arbitrary, are frequently determined by accident or caprice, while the same care is not exercised in reengaging servants as in the employment of other wage-earners. In sheer desperation many employers take whoever comes first, relying upon that wisp of straw, a recom mendation from an intelligence office. They fi themselves too often at the mercy of ignorant and unscrupulous women, who may either dri; or steal, or, if honest and sober, may still not ha the slightest practical preparation for the wo, they undertake. These persons, too, fly of$i^at a tangent, are independj^lfcr'nt^iatbfi/^^^irtt^ reason, bitterly resent criticism or suggestions," and flaunt in the face of their nominal mistress the fact that if she dismiss them, twenty-five other places are ready to receive them with acclaim. This is one aspect of the perplexing situation. Another phase is caused by the marvellous in- crease of factories, and the fact that they offer opportunites to young women to work in various pacities, at liberal rates of payment, with reg- hours, and entirely free evenings as well as ndays wholly at their own disposal. These ustrial openings enlist hundreds of girls who wer^'engaged in domestic work. iry operative, in reality, works much longer hours and receives a lower 'On than the woman who works in the The latter has, as part of her re- tioi1^>;^mfortable lodging and as good as the fttpenly who employ her have for them- veS. With itenrt^>§i_^^rd and lodging added, e„ hoXJ^hold set^ja^^^^^^ financially better off w Jra^ wh/^v^fki^f actories or in shops, r weekly stipend. The he greater independ- ence of the operative or the saleswoman, and the common impression that there is something lower- ing to a person's dignity in accepting the work of a domestic. The very term " servant " is to many an offence. American girls feel that they cannot afford to lose caste by working in any one's kitchen. They refuse to take meals apart from the family. They prefer any other work to this. The home employer must therefore depend on the foreign contingent, on the women who come from Ireland, Sweden, Norway, Den- mark, Finland, France, Germany, or Italy for recruits in the kitchen department. Latterly these women have found numerous rivals in the colored people who come as an advancing host from our Southern States. Negro women have a natural gift for cooking, and are soft-voiced and pleasant, though untrained and frequentl conspicuously irresponsible and inefficient inordinate love of gayety and sociability belon to their race. In this generation they have riot been inured to steady work, and considering hmv recently the race has emerged from slavery, it i^^, wonderful that they voluntarily take so well as they do to steady labor. By^those M^iQ. kn [255] .^#s?. The Little Kingdom of Home we are told that one-tenth of the population^ of black folk who were made their own masters by emancipation are now working with praise- worthy industry, are educated, are amassing money and are equal in most particulars to people with white skins. The other nine-tenths are in process of emerging. Some of them will make admirable servants. Others, with their slipshod ways, tax the patience of the notable housekeeper, and yet, especially in suburban places, they are her hope, as, the moment winter comes, the young white women from town seek it again. They wish to be close by their relatives and their church, A glimmer of hope comes to the horizon from Asia. Many persons are employing the silent, mysterious, deft-handed, swift-footed Oriental, who does his work so neatly and so thoroughly, learns so rapidly, and who easily fits into 'place hitherto filled by clumsy Bridget or )born Gretchen. Cooperative housekeeping is Insisted upon by faithful students of sociology as the solu- ^\ exing problem. In some towns 'koUfiJs are at present heated and lighted [256] from a central plant, and it is proposed to have-^^s^ the cooking for the group done in a designated common kitchen, the laundry work of a given number of families done at a common laundry, and the several details of housekeeping taken from the hands of the individual housewife and transferred to those of a competent su- perintendent. It is hardly probable that this sort of housekeeping will become general very soon. Deeply rooted in our thoughts and feelings is the desire for the individual home, with the isolation and aloofness that this home im- plies. Most of us would rather have a mutton- chop, broiled on our own range, to the finest dish sent in from a near-by restaurant. Annoying as are the lapses in the service of the different Marys or Norahs who have held the sceptre in , a our kitchen, we remain sanguine, expecting th^ ' in due time the perfect maid will come to relief. Nor should we heap useless abuse on the mc It is always an axiom that a competent mistrej makes a competent maid. A woman who bri^s to her profession of hor^making iijeither l^iqjDg nor knowledge must d^artJ^t^^ja'iU have TJie Little Kingdoin of Home • more or less difficulty before she finds the right assistant to relieve her from drudgery. There is danger of forgetting that women servants are made of flesh and blood, that they are liable to headache and backache, that they, as well as those for whom they toil, must have time for l)hysical rest. Also, they have their circle of loved ones, near at hand or far away. Considera- tion of them from' the standpoint of humanity, ^■eal affection for them as friends, not hirelings, ids them to the home as with hooks of steel. I acknowledge my debt to a succession of ex- llent women who have lifted from me the irdens ot^misewifery, and made it possible, by less and efficiency, for me to devote id strength to congenial tasks beyond of the home. As one by one these married and gone to homes of their :es have been taken by others, ;warm-hearted and competent, the women who serve and unmarried. They ing for youthful com- rs have, and that other It is perfectly legiti- .rtiate. If there is a hard and fast rule in the ^ri household, forbidding their young men friends to call upon them in the evening, they have a right to feel aggrieved. No young woman should be compelled to do without company of the other sex if she desires it, nor should she be tempted to flirt with the butcher, the baker, and the candle- stick maker, to carry on anything furtive, or drop into ways detrimental to good morals and good manners. She should openly receive her friends under the roof of her mistress, that roof covering to all practical purposes her home. She is most of the time away from her parents, brothers, and sisters, or their home may afford no convenient place in which young men may visit her. Unless all maids shall be vowed to celibacy ^^^rjs and take the veil as nuns do, there can be neither '"'* ^'*' sense nor propriety in forbidding them to s( company when their work is done. The freedoi of their evenings may not always be possible, it is hardly pleasant for a grown woman to obliged every time she wishes to go out tc come and ask permission. Some rrrtStr^^^ises insist^ that their maids shall never leave ihe iKBi^b£xci [259] ^v The Little Kingdom of Home 71 •on the stipulated days out. It is, of course, wise in making a contract to let it be as business-like as possible, and it should be very definitely stated for what one is paying and for what one is paid. But work in the home cannot be reduced to the same terms as work in a factory. Few houses are so regulated that meals can always be served at the same moment ; some member of the family may wish an early breakfast or come home to a late dinner. There are various little details and interruptions which come into the progress of the ordinary day, and to these a maid must accommo- date herself. We are told that very recently a Housemaids' League has been formed in which the members declare that their hours of work must be certain allotted ones, between, for instance, six in the morning and one in the afternoon ; that the hours ^een one and five must be at their own dis- that all their evenings shall be their own; any work they may do outside their particu- realm is to be paid for at a fixed rate per this league ever become popular it would have to be met by a corre- le in which employers should also [260] ictate their own terms, be to the fore, and would rage until one or other party became triumphant. God forbid that such a state of things arise to the shame of the American home. We need, as woman to woman, to meet and overcome the difficulties of the servant problem. Tliere must be forbearance and common sense on both sides. There must be Christian charity. Balancing the fact that operatives have their evenings, is the other fact that in household labor there are many opportunities for little rests dur- ing the day's work, and that the maid, as an inte- gral part of the home, has a right to all the home privileges. If there is a feast she shares it ; on holiday occasions, she, with the rest of the family, probably receives a substantial gift; she has a right to read, or at least has the privilege pi reading whatever newspapers and books are the home; her hours for churchgoing are nqt^ only considered, but jealously guarded by mistress, who knows well that the devout, co: scientious woman, whether or not her creed that of her mistress, is -vvorth far more tflfthe home's happiness, than she who the claims upon her of rehgion. The charges particularly brought against a maid are usually charges of carelessness in the use of fuel, of reckless breakage, and of waste- fulness in the materials she uses and the food in her charge, and of impatience and intolerance with what she considers interference. All these faults and defects may be remedied by judicious and ictful management on the part of the mistress, he relations between mistress and maid should ^e respectful if not intimate. The latter neces- irily knows the affairs of the family. They Cannot jj^Hkept from her. She is aware of the family perplexities, and by de- Fns to know the family friends and ac- les, understands who is welcome and 1, and, in a way, becomes the fam- ive to the outsider. The manner le hospitable home you visit lile in the home where there to which few guests ced by indifference or fine china, or destroy cherished heirlooms, but why hand over one', fragile china, one's precious possessions, to the care of a woman who never in her hfe saw such things before she came into your home? Women who habitually wash their own fine china, keep and hand it down intact from mother to daughter. If unwilling to take this trouble, one must be philosophical, if occasionally a valu- able piece is broken. Time spent in the training of servants when they first enter the home is well spent. A mistress w^ho is impatient of training, w^ho would rather let things go or do them herself than show her maid how to do them aright, can- not expect good results. I have seen, with pain and pity, the deterioration of young women who might have made excellent helpers, but who be- came discouraged, who went from one house to an^^^ other, and at last became useless and incompete and like Ishmael had their hand against man, and every man's hand against them. It is noticeable that one seldom sees a wo^ grown old in service. What becomes of tl rosy-cheeked young girls who come to us frc distant shores and take up wo;^-J^^3^i kitchen? Some of them, of course, mSi [263 The Little Kingdom of Home •die, and it is a comment on the life we give them and the life they might have, that in hospitals one finds many maid servants who are slowly dying because they have lost the red corpuscles from their blood; they grow anaemic because they do not take regular meals, because they stand too much on their feet, because they have not sufficient fresh air and exercise, and last of all, because they eternally drink tea which they keep standing upon the range. They are really slowly poisoned. A mistress should not only advise her servant to take her meals regularly, but should see that she does so. As an older and better taught woman, the employer is re- sponsible for the health, comfort, and respect- ability of the woman she employs. When we recognize this and act upon it, we shall have more comfort and less complaint in the average Ameri- ihome. [264] [265] m jB I® fe'''T'HE seal of nobility was forever stamped "^M"^^ service by the Christ, who came not to iM^ ministered unto, but to minister, and who said, is " I am among you as he that serveth." [266] CHAPTER XVII. •The Nobility of Service WHILE human nature remains what it is, a thing- of shreds and patches, incon- sistent, fallible and full of contradic- tions, it is unlikely that we shall ever appreciate as we ought the true nobility of service. Our blessed Lord, when he came into the world, took to him- self no higher distinction than this, in his declara- tion to his disciples, " I am among you as he that serveth." By example and precept, Jesus put the emphasis of his approval upon humility, and if ever society shall model itself upon the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount, and shall take Jesus Christ as its great inspiration ^ndV \)(l^ example, there will be an end of pride in rtm^, Z^y^y worldly honor. Visionary enthusiasts have ms.de^'^---^ the attempt to obliterate class lines, and Ys^^a, tried to show that people should all mingle ^^^ gether on precisely the same plane. On thc/^ce of it, this must ever be , impossible. If socJ4tly as a w^hole to-day were g^iveh tfip^^^: aJi/itlyiwts The Little Khigdom of Home the same privileges, the same homes, and ad- vantages, and if the wealth of the world were equally divided among high and low, it would not be long before things would resolve them- selves again into their component elements. Like would seek like; the learned and refined would inevitably drift together, and there would be no good or permanent results from the ex- periment. That service is inherently noble and digni- fied, is an axiom which we accept without contra- diction, but when it comes to the statement that the service of our particular Maggie or Mary in the kitchen, the service of the man who comes for the ashes and that of the man who digs up the garden are as honorable as any other form of day labor that is faithfully and bravely per- formed, we hesitate. AVe do not give the assent h means conviction. In reality, and in s sight, one working woman or man is ood as another and no better. Painting sun- and mixing puddings are equally honor- ■^ason. He who manages an army, ds in the thoroughfare and keeps carriages in order so that pedes- [268] .frians may pass on safely, are equally serving the state, and fulfilling their duty to the age. After all, the chief thing is, that each in his or her place shall perform faithfully whatever duty be undertaken, heartily as to the Lord, and not to men. To this end, it would be an improvement if every woman at home thoroughly understood every-day service, and knew the demand made upon muscles and nerves in ordinary labor. Every mother owes it to her daughter that she shall practically understand the meaning of labor; understand it by performance. Let the young girl personally undertake her own wash- ing and ironing for a week or two, and she will have sympathy with Katy and Norah. She will know what work means. Let a woman rise in the early hours between darkness and da\\Ti, ligh a fire in the stove, make the coffee and the b cuits, and prepare breakfast for a half-dozen hungry people, and she will understand bet than she hitherto has, what the cook does ever morning of her life. Some time ago, a young lady, who had^^^n graduated from a New The Little Kmgdom of Home .took for herself to discover just what was ex- pected from a woman in a small family, so far as the ordinary work was concerned. She accepted the position of housemaid. She speedily found that while her early training stood her in stead, while she knew how to bake and to brew and to broil, while every process was familiar to her, yet the work was arduous and wearisome to the last degree. Her employer had no idea whatever the time it took to do any special thing; she no thought that housework may be made istic; that it is not always necessary that it )uld move as the stars move in their course, Wording tg^y^ established order. Though the never so clean, the weekly sweeping could never be omitted. If visitors |e house, the lady was anxious to im- >with her own dignity, and was an- |iey commented on the niceness and of" the maid, whom she seemed to .fter a '^ew vv©eks spent in this dis- ^servico^this masquerading student lew w% young women, simi- lent and intelligence. scorned domestic service and took up any other line of work in preference. From time to time endeavors are made to secure better service in our homes through the medium of training-schools. Domestic science is taught as never before, cooking-schools abound, experts impart everything that can be supposed essential to the fitting out of the perfect servant. I am not sanguine that in a republican country where everything social is in a ferment, such schools will do more than temporarily to help along. They will, undoubtedly, enable the working woman to command a higher rate of wages, but unless they also teach her, and some- how teach her employer, too, that domestic serv- ice is not in itself ignoble, and that one who enters upon it loses no one's esteem, they will fail of their aim. Years ago, I knew a woman who came t^ this country from a foreign land, bringing wit her two little sons. Her husband had precedj her by some months, that he might make a promising to send for her. In England, she ha( had every comfort and convenieiie^l^iBvjtier little^ cottage, though luxuries were iew^ She ^\ [271] neat, fairly intelligent, and a frugal house- keeper. Arriving here, she discovered that her perfidious husband had taken to himself another wife, who honestly supposed herself to be mar- ried to him. The heart-broken woman went to the home, satisfied herself that she was forsaken, with wonderful self-restraint did not disclose her identity, and turned her back on the man who had deceived her. She took her little boys to a relative, who gave them shelter, and she herself found employment in the only capacity for which she was fitted, that of housekeeper in a wealthy family. She held this position for some years, respected by her employers, equal to the demands the position made, never asking to be admitted into the circle of her employers' friends, nor desiring it. In time, her boys grew up, did well in business, and were able to make a home their brave mother. She had illustrated the ty and dignity of a life of service as few men had done, and in the home where she t her old age, and from which, a year or two she passed away, she was venerated as good efect in the education of boys and [272] ^ girls brought up outside of country homes is? that they learn little of practical work, and have to do little with their hands. The mind receives its full share of training, but the hands do little task work. A country boy has any number of things to do for his father and mother : errands, work on the farm, animals to feed, mail to carry, a dozen things every day. He grows up an all- around man, and, going away from home to a city, often outstrips the keener-witted and more clever boys who had the advantage at the start in city life. If mothers in town have nothing for their boys to do, they should create something. Neither boys nor girls should be permitted to treat servants, or people employed about their homes, with anything except entire respect and civility. It is a wrong to children, as well as to those whom they seem to think beneath the if they do not recognize the right of every to courtesy. We lose immensely by failing to remember fact that every one we meet may teach us somj thing worth our knowing. The engineer, \wio safely conducts the great train across the ooriti nent, is fitly thanked byJ^i^f'dffllfiwK^Df .the The Little Kingdom of Home m republic, who has been one of the passengers^ on the train, for he has done a great service. His knowledge, not that of those he has carried, has in that sphere its preeminent value. Every day of our lives we owe more than we dream to the fidelity, courage, and resource of the average man who merely does his plain duty without any fuss. Society could not get on ; the community would fall to pieces if we did not [^1 depend upon one another for kindnesses, ike, for instance, the milk-supply of a great Ity. Which of us thinks very much about the mds that, very early in the morning, load the -cans aji^ crates on the trains that come Prom th^^reat farming districts; or about the who take the cans and crates from !it the terminal, convey them to wagons, ^ the bottles of cream and milk from «otise? If one is awake very early in ij^gy-iie may hear the quiet, even steps who FeaVes at the door the supply of ^Jjreakfast-table, the food Lwhil^Jji^ma^Pahon^ the baby depends for ^re the milk-supply of a ^enty-four hours, in- [274] calculable suffering and multiplied deaths wouk result among infants, invalids, and convalescents, to whom this one commodity is the means of life. Think again of those splendid heroes, seldom rewarded with civic honors, or written on the scroll of fame, who fight fire in our cities. Among heroes none should rank much higher than the firemen, who risk life and limb, and scorn danger, so long as they may save life and property. Wherever we go, we jostle on the streets men and women of rare courage and real heroism, who yet do not suspect that they are heroic or courageous. We do not think very much about the family doctor as a hero, yet from time to time he takes his life in his hand, and many a noble physician has fallen in the service of science and humanity. " I am among you," said Jesus, " as he that ' eth." lady visiting this country for the first time d what impressed her most unfavorably here the slight respect we had for service, and the seemed to imply. She said very e going forward in a great man}.- [275] iS". The Little Kingdom of Home m ways, but you seem to have retrograded in much that belongs to the comfort, economy, and good- management of the home." Where everybody is trying to chmb a peg higher, and nobody seems to understand that it is honorable for one to wait upon another, there must be something radically wrong. Reforms of every kind begin with the intelli- gent, and the far-seeing. They must start with the aristocracy. When those who have had most by way of endowment act upon what they know, service will rise to its true plane. [276] 1^771 [2781 ^Home and Charity it T HE p(X)r ye have always with you," said our Lord, when here among men. We cannot shut our hearts against the appeal of suffering, nor decline to help those who, for one reason or another, ask us to give them a lift. " If Jesus came to earth again And walked and talked in field and street, Who would not lay his human pain Low at those heavenly feet?" If Jesus came to New York or Chicago, Bos- ton or St. Louis, meeting twentieth-century^^ conditions, as he met those which surround^ him so long ago in Galilee, he would not ti away from the world's poor. As he had cc passion on the multitudes and fed them, would feed them now. As he had healing the blind and the lame, he would have healing now. As crowds sought him t seek him now. [279] rj' TJie Little Kingdom of Home The blessed spirit of the Christ is in our forms of organized charity, as it is in every individual effort we make to save, to redeem, to comfort the outcast, the criminal, and the discouraged. For the depraved and delinquent classes among us, we must have increasing pity, if we realize that they are the inevitable debris of our civiliza- tion. Nor can we evade our responsibility for those who go astray. Somehow, somewhere they took a wrong turning. It is the part of every one who has sons and daughters, to care for the sons and daughters of others, who have gone aside, through temptation, from the straight and narrow path. It is the part of every one who sits in a snug house, beside a bright fire, to think of the wanderer, ill-clad, shivering, tossed like a waif on the rough sea of the world. Ah, friends, the home must not bolt and bar £)ors, nor the heart barricade its fortress agaHist the forlorn outsider, who stands at the .gate, knocking, knocking. Nor with grudging reluctant hand must heart and home dole has no interest in the world's rk is a dwarfed and abortive [280] i6me. Those who dwell in it will become shriv- elled and soul-warped. A perfunctory interest is not enough; The sort of charitable giving that now and then spares a dime or a dollar in re- sponse to an eloquent oratorical appeal, is as a drop to the ocean, when compared with the mighty need that is on every side, that must be met by those who give one by one, yet whose gifts flow into broad and deep channels, are spon- taneous, intelligent, and above all, systematic. For practical purposes, it is much better that a home should contribute its annual proportion to a hospital, a settlement, an endeavor for prison reform, a work for men released from prison, a work of rescue or relief, than that a single large donation should be made and the matter dismissed. There are generous givers, who, out of their abundance, endow and sustain magnifi; cent charities ; there are givers, as generous, wh( out of their poverty, regularly pay the fees which^ make them associates in the support of charitat institutions. Tlie last are not less useful, less indispensable than the first. To receive in the home itself the full swjfi ness and blessedness that 1^ The Little Kingdom of Home 'I B with charity, there must needs be sacrifice and-^ knowledge. One may not be able to draw a large check, and endow a hospital bed, one may not be able to furnish a hospital room, yet there are people of limited means, who might, if they chose, ab- breviate some of their superfluities, and help on the good work of a hospital, here or abroad. Hospitals, for the cure of disease, are as swift their cry to the compassionate heart if they md in a Syrian or Chinese city, as in our own ^ar home land. Commerce and conquest and )us effort are fast sweeping away boundary- corner of the globe seems remote merican fireside in this time of con- and rapid geographical and political r a friend, knq very essenc 6t spend amulets to bring smi dear one be taken away, there is no keeping the cherished memory by doing some kind deed, regularly, nown, who is in want. is friendliness. We ime in this brief life, Our tears should be d faces, for the sake [282] of a happy past, and of myriad withered hopes. Tombstones where elaborate devices are carved have their place beside the grave, but they should be simple, not costly. The money they might cost would better go to uplift some lowliness, to re- lieve some heartache, to enable some crippled child to walk, or blind child to see. From a home, most beautiful in every appoint- ment, most exquisite in its culture and refine- ment, a young girl was called higher. Her going made a wide swath of desolation. But soon her parents, for Elsie's sake, found another girl, in the sunny dawn of seventeen, with ambitions, talents, needs, with an unfolding life. " We will spend on her," they said, " for Elsie's sake, what we would have spent for Elsie. She shall have books, teachers, a college course, everything Elsie would have had, and thus, day by day, yej by year, we will remember our darling." A scholarship in a college, either for wo or men, unites a home with a wonderfully end ing means of doing good. The rich cannot a nobler use for wealth than in extending t privileges of education to thos^^MjB hunger a: thirst for culture and learning,^»B£are deba [283]' The Little Kmgdom of Home by penury. One need not be rich to take some small share in furthering the ends of those col- leges and universities, or those special schools which educate young people and prepare them for life. A few years hence and the control of every- thing governmental will be vested in the educated young men and women who are to come from the colleges. It is less charity than an impulse to self-preservation which leads to their being generously supported by the homes of the land. Most homes have their personal pensioners, whose claim on them is of blood, or of age and debility, or of old acquaintance. These friends, if aided, must be aided delicately, not with conde- scension and patronage, but with sincere joy. An old servant, perhaps, laid aside from life's activities, has found asylum in a Home for the Indigent; she is not to be overlooked, nor is uty done when her expenses are paid, her 'eiitf'a'nce-fee settled, her little flat purse supplied ;b" change. Somebody must visit her now and She must have a glimpse of the bigger V(^ld. Her little fads and fancies must be pro- vided^c^lrt^/^^y back in the hill country, where "'■^one^s ojiildlioo^was spent, there may be an old [284] ^couple, too feeble to wrest subsistence from the stony soil that once yielded them a living. They would not be happy in the spacious town-house, where some of their kin have every possible com- fort. Nevertheless, they are to be looked after, loved, boxes are to be sent them, and letters often written. They are a part of the home's oppor- tunity to do good, and thereby enrich itself spiritually and mentally. To adopt orphan children into one's own family, treating them in every way as if they were indeed one's own, is a form of char- ity that seldom fails to bring a benediction in its wake. True, the adopted child does not always fulfil every expectation. For that matter, the children of one's family line are often disappoint- ments. True, heredity is a factor that cannot be ignored. But as George MacDonald has sai( '* every child is God's child," and with right hoi training, the child, handicapped at the start, eventually surmount every obstacle, and into useful maturity. A home is the gainer for having in it a whose claim on its love, care, and pati( not the claim of birth The Little Kingdom of Home a .- m g: Ni» The Little Kingdom of Home tp! -money. The higher charity gives of its own soul, Jl\ its own days and nights, its experience and its faith. Bread cast upon the waters may come back after many days, A good man, in the period of his affluence, poured out lavishly on friends, kindred, and the poor his bounty, considering himself God's almoner. A sequence of untoward events, for none of which he was responsible, left him )r, and he moved from his home-town to a If^t city, where in an obscure clerkship he died. /'[On the day of the funeral, the widow and ighters had neither loaf nor purse in the ley sat together in the gathering (•hbor tapped at the door, you would be too tired to prepare a le said, " so I ventured to bring you ►set down a dainty tray and departed said the mother, " we have nothing, rust youl^^^^s God." ne nejg^S^Sfwf a messenger left a father's fellow clerks letter of regret and dollars. " We send .it instead of flowers, which we did not send yesterday, thinking they would soon fade." The first mail brought a letter from an old friend, enclosing a check for two hundred dollars. " Once," said the writer, " when I was in straits, Ralph helped me." In three days six hundred dollars came to the widow, every dollar a surprise, and e\'ery one a testimony to the radiance of the life-torch that had lighted others in dark hours. No home is the poorer for wide, sweet, and wholesome charities. Too often we set before children as their guid- ing star, the saving of money. Our ethical standards are low. Honesty is the best policy. But money saved for savings' sake and honesty from politic motives are alike mean, and savor of the dust. Be honest. Be thrifty. Be that you may have an unstained character, thi you may have something to give when calk upon, that you may be a blessing to your tii This is the lesson we need to impress on q^ homes from coast to coast, from Maine to Ore^ gon. [291] [293] given, 1 dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven." [294] CHAPTER XIX. Home and the Flag IN this wide country of ours, no problem gives us greater anxiety than that of im- migration. From every corner of the globe, from every tribe and nation, seeking our shores in the hope of finding a home under our flag, come the poor, the ignorant, the discouraged, and the irreligious. Not every immigrant who finds a haven here belongs to those classes, but the majority of our foreign-born residents are in some sort of those who have been beaten and baffled thus far in the hard strifes of the world. Paupers and criminals are indeed excluded b)j^,^^^^ statutory enactment, and those who land mj have a clean record and the means for a bej ning, at least, of a support ; they must not c^ absolutely penniless to the new land. But w( not shut out honest poverty, and God grant-* never may. Our territory is sufficient for, of resources are equal to, our opfx^rttmities aL;^. meant for whatever responsibility God ^Jlt^s [295; •upon us for the peoples of the globe. Once here, though the first generation may not climb beyond the point of forgetting its homesickness and accommodating itself to the novel environment, the second, trained in our public schools, will become itself a product of the soil, and make fine material for good citizenship, while the third will attain to civic eminence, and very likely assume the reins of government. It is idle for patriotic Americans to sit in the seat of the scornful with regard to the foreign element who are bringing to us brawn and sinev/, and assimi- lating with speed the best that a free country' has to give. Here they are, the fair-haired chil- dren of Northern Europe, the keen-eyed men of Syria, the olive-skinned mountaineers of Italy, the impassive folk from the coasts of China, the [ick-witted sons of the Hebrew race, from rever Gentile intolerance has set on them -uel foot, [n our schools, morning after morning, the )ils rise, and in concert salute the Stars and ?, the children of many lands," they >ur country's flag." No better in the class-room than the lesson [296] of loyalty to the land that shelters and the flag that protects the children growing up to be good Arnericans. The school does its part, and the homes from which the children of the tailor, the cobbler, and the day-laborer come, in their way and as they can, do theirs. Having known want and pri- vation, the foreigner, pushing toward the goal of plenty and learning, thrift and prudence, ap- preciates what the new land has to offer him. Limited in vocabulary, alien in language, unused to the situations which confront him, the domi- nant sentiment in the mind of the immigrant is almost universally that of gratitude allied to hope, hope less for himself than for his children. Our plain American homes are the main- stay and the corner-stone of the great republic. Whether or not we acknowledge it, the stabilit;^' and the fair fame of every community rest the individual homes that compose it. So, t. nation's security, the nation's good name r on the myriad homes that make up its immenp sity, and in no uncertain tone give their verd^fct on public questions at tl\e, ballot-box, ^;^ When the dry-rot of degenefacv attaacS^^^ homes of the country, the country itself wil suffer from the gangrene of corruption. When a democracy degenerates, it degenerates in the circumference, because there is disease at the centre. Our homes are the throbbing heart of the nation. Wealth, learning, luxury, culture, travel, refinement, will avail us nothing to ar- rest decay, if there be an insidious poison eating into the core of vitality. Therefore, with pain and fear we note a grow- ing indifference to politics in our households, and springing from this, a growing reluctance on the )art of our educated men to engage in them. ''oung.jBgn, the fine product of our best uni- the pride of our most exclusive homes, for, and prize little, the power that every American should estimate as the coro- manhood, the vote. Home con- ;rests itself too much in small tqqjittle agitated, enriched, affairs of the nation, itain, the educated men Duntry and of the town convictions, strongly asserted; they know phs.tinaitely hel [298] the complexion and the involutions and compli- cations of their politics, and are familiar with their leaders and their party tactics. Here we have little deference for our greatest men, small concern, till a gigantic infamy precipitates a sporadic reform, as to the management or mis- management of our common heritage. Ameri- cans are proverbially easy-going and long-suffer- ing, enduring much of wrong that should be resisted, before they make a protest at the polls. The country is still young; its progress has been by magic strides; out of the ground, yielding its magnificent harvests, out of the depths of the earth, where coal and oil and gold and copper and silver have made men rich beyond the dreams of antiquity, from our vast rivers and inland seas, from such wealth as Nature is prodigal ^i^^^-^r- on this great continent, our material affluence increased, furthered by the achievements modern science. We have suffered deteriorat in that gradually ethical standards have lowered, and to accumulate a fortune has becc the most eagerly coveted goal of ambition. TfiJ multi-millionaire, the man and perhaps of that unscrupul( [299j^ The Little Kingdom of Home keeping to the letter of integrity, violates its^ spirit, has been held up before boys as the finest ideal they can have. In the craze for money- making, patriotism has had secondary place and consideration. We are urgently in need of a reaction which shall take the nation by storm. If such a re- action shall come, it will begin in the home and at the fireside. The home talk will centre not on business ventures nor on domestic savings so much as on larger questions, on national is- sues, on national probity, on national pride. Men will be no longer colorless and fluid as to their political preferences. They will take sides and discuss them and attend primaries and give their best attention to the nominations and the cam- paigns, be they of the city, the country, the State, nation. ng men will anticipate with eager yearn- d keen zest the year when first they may Good men will not stand aloof, white- Pharisaic mien, from the polls. ?^at is a unit in its desire for good ^7^ its love for the country and its ^current history, the world-history [300] that the newspapers daily chronicle, is worth as much to the nation at large as a battalion of soldiers. Indifference and reluctance should not set their disfiguring mark on the character of our young men. As they emerge annually from colleges and high schools, as they enter trade, commerce, and professional activity, they should not be listless in their attitude toward life. With everything that the finest intellectual train- ing can give its coming men, with bodies splen- didly developed, so that we have a race of young athletes, our boys should not shun the conflicts of the arena where opposing parties clash, where righteousness should prevail over greed, and honor ennoble the nation. We must not drift into pessimism over what may be a transient phase, what is not necessaril an everlasting condition. The life of a sin generation is brief, but a nation's life is Ion Tliinking of historic duration one comprehe the meaning of the Scriptural text that with G one day is as a thousand years, and a thous years as one day. " In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me." The nation will never lose its Sir Galahads, who will not falter in their search for the Holy Grail. As " freedom slowly broadens down, from precedent to precedent," we agree more and more with England's greatest laureate, — " That man's the best cosmopolite Who loves his native country best." fot only should we cherish the sentiment and courage tji^/^pression of love for the flag, but little ways open to the home we ^laim and glory in this love. A flag. is only a bit of bunting, strips of and blue stitched together, stars, )n an azure field. Fling it from let it wave from the church. id peak, fort and fleet colors on occasion. havK its own flag, which sjvhen we celebrate the anniversary, which .should droop at half - mast when our heroes die. Mothers should teach their little children beau- tiful odes and hymns and songs which have a patriotic ring. There are seasons when the nation, profoundly stirred, shakes off its dumb torpor, wakes from its apathy, and knows the divine enthusiasm that only love of country kindles. Should a foe from the outside train his guns against our great sea- wall, what thunder of indignation would roll from Atlantic to Pacific, what tremendous up- rising would there be, of men, young and old, offering themselves for the nation's defence. No call to action has ever found Americans dere- lict, from the hour when the " embattled farm- ers " of Massachusetts " fired the shot heard round the world." to the latest demand to " Re: member the Maine." Neither money, nor volui teers, nor love are wanting when the nation thrill to the tocsin that summons its sons to a gre« opportunity and a valiant fight. We are aj thetic in the commonplace days that are so many< but we are thoroughly energetic in tperitical hour. > Not so long ago, our martyr^ presiderit Wj [303] '^ ■ 3^^- '^< (t<« ^^sb*^ iam McKinley, true patriot, great statesman, true gentleman, died by the hand of an assassin. The foolish, half-crazed youth, whose bullet laid low one who was the flower of American knightly manhood, was the very antithesis of all that President McKinley represented. As Lincoln and Garfield before him, they, too, martyrs for liberty as he was, McKinley was the son of a plain home, a man brought up precisely as the rank and file of our common people are. He was of the people. Never did rrtan exemplify more nobly than he, the best traits of the good man in his home, tender and chivalrous to an invalid wife more than ordi- narily dependent on his loving thoughtfulness ; a good son, a good brother, a good friend, a good citizen. As his lips, damp with the dews of death, repeated, " Not my will, but thine done," as with his last breath he murmured, fearer my God to Thee," a wave of mingled rrow and patriotic exultation swept over the Every village, every frontier settlement, and town sang " Nearer, my God, to le day of McKinley's obsequies. led, and in his death he revealed [304] ^o his countrymen the height and splendor of* true manhood and true patriotism. From such homes as nurtured Wilham McKinley, James A. Garfield, and Abraham Lincoln, from such homes as have given us our statesmen, our commanders, our scholars and divines, our Phillips Brooks among clergymen, our Wendell Phillips among orators, our Whittier and Longfellow among poets, from such unostentatious, frugal, self-respecting homes, the nation's hope must evermore spring. We need not fear for a country which has such homes, and in. the future as in the past, for her it shall be true that " Grod fulfils himself in many ways." [307] f not hurried too soon of childhood's garden of dehght, w tnose about him keq) the child-heart amic daily burdens, there we see the child's ideal home. [308] CHAPTER XX. The Ideal Home for a Child I WONDER what our grandmothers would have said had they dreamed that a day was fast hurrying on, in which children should be treated as if they were crowned heads, and child-training achieve the distinction of a cult. The swing of the twentieth century pendu- lum has reached the precise opposite of all that was held sacred in old-fashioned tradition. " Children should be seen and not heard." Chil- dren should be often reproved and judiciously snubbed. Children should be submissive to tu- tors and governors. They had no rights and few privileges, were treated with austerity and spoiled by overmuch coddling and petting an elder day than ours. In spite of injustice severity, they seem to have grown up into fai respectable men and women, the pity being they had to bear so much that was unnecess^ Read Rudyard Kipling'' "The Black Sheep" "much wretchedness a hard and unsympathetic woman could inflict on a child, without per- manent injury to body and brain. Read the strangely frank narrative which Augustus J. C. Hare has called " The Story of My Life " to dis- cover how pitiless and cruel good people could be to a small child whom they persisted in thwarting at every turn, true to their mistaken theory that he was always to be refused whatever he de- ?d. " Go out and see what Jack is doing, Jd tell him to stop," was the comment auto- itically issued in the early nineteenth centur}% I nine out of ten households where they were a boy, and this not once, but a a day. 'no means sure that we are not over- mother direction our devotion to the jn the old days children were be- le now. Love was at the root of ^ed on idolatry as it igh fashions change, |entially the same in len, as now, was love, and they will not ifluence/' The greatest thing ■^^ V The Ideal Home for a Child m earth, the greatest thing in heaven, love is the redemption of the world, as potential in the child's life as in that of the grown np man and woman. We do not love too much or too tenderly now, but we do set the child too visibly and too continually in the foreground. The child is a bright little creature, shrewd, wide-awake. Very early in life the child learns that its faintest wish is as the nod of a king. Darling little tyrants they may be, but tyrants there are in homes without number, where they are not only first in affection, but first considered, first thought of, first consulted; their preferences as to food, as to playtime, as to clothing, as to the church or Sunday school they elect to attend, sedulously studied, and indulged even at inconvenience on the part of the parents. Child-culture clubs are not to bear the blar for this state of things. Eager groups of co; scientious mothers, meeting weekly and produf ing with puckered brow their reports of w« Jane and wee Tommy, comparing notes over in- fantile squabbles, do evolve frgjrj^^^^ pains- taking processes some beneficiMljesuIti [311] The Little Kingdo7n of Home c^ fl hlldren of to-day are well-fed, well-shod, well- housed, and from kindergarten to college are carefully put through the successive stages of an elaborate education. Each child is, so to speak, classified, and pinned, and labelled, and fastened, where he or she belongs. Mothers meet in con- ventions and congresses, and famous pedagogues and apostles of the latest philanthropy and teachers of great distinction lecture in their presence. I once attended a Mothers' Congress and listened with a notable company of representative mothers to discourses grave and gay, profound and shallow ; nothing in the legitimate field of maternal care was slurred over or ignored. A specially admirable address from an eminent physician, an authority on the subject, had to do with the proper method of feeding children. le, wholesome food was recommended. ts and bonbons were altogether condemned. efore me sat a mother, young, soulful, en- siastic, who listened with rapt attention and ed aDOroval, and looked about her for he warmly applauded at the end. Aib-Mu^;fttei>'she hurried breathlessly into the [312] The Ideal Home for a Child • ^rain where I sat, explaining volubly that the reason she so nearly missed it was that she did not dare to go home without candy for the chil- dren. She had a liberal supply of it in her hands. The ideal home for a child is a home where the child has room to develop naturally. It is a home that does not bristle with don'ts. A mother was appalled one day when a visiting sister said, " I have jotted down the don'ts you have uttered to Emily to-day. You have said, ' Don't do that, Emily ' eighty times since breakfast." Never is a home ideal when so full of ornamental bric-a-brac and fragile chairs and tables, and delicate china and costly furniture that childish freedom therein is forever being curtailed, restrained, and restricted. If possible, the child's ideal home should in the country. Out-of-doors in the air a sunlight, with stout shoes, with simple clothin with plenty of space, children grow rosy-chee and sturdy. A brook where he may fish, meadow where he may dream, a tree into wh^ he may climb, furnishes for the healthy Chilean earthly paradise. A park is a quotation from the country and affords to city children their best substitute for country freedom. Unhappily the ubiquitous bluecoated policeman is apt to be on the spot when they are happiest, warning- them away from the grass, as though it were not meant for children's feet to touch, warning them from this and the other delight, so that a city park is an Eden watched over by a sort of dragon of forbidding I. ''hen children have no playground except the [vement near their own home, they are not illy situated for pleasure or health. Exercise exercise pleasing to the mind as rblesome for the body, is a requisite le to happy childhood. il home for the child is one where his jithin call. Therefore, children who [s only now and then, as some- with the children of wealth and teachers are ever so recious things. helps mother, where and basins, and little 'al. Dearly do chil- "dren enjoy being in the midst of things and being of use. Among recent writers, none excels J. M. Barrie in a sympathetic insight, which reveals the inner heart and life of childhood. Grizel, the little heroine in " Sentimental Tommy," had anything but an ideal home, yet the apology for a home that she had, gave her what many children lack, the chance to develop the mother-instinct that lies hidden deep in the soul of every young girl. She watched over her poor mother " The Painted Lady," with more than maternal tenderness and with a sweetness that was half angelic, half pure womanly. The child's home, to be ideal, must have in it some grown person who is companion, confidante, and friend, but who possesses no vested authority. This person may be a grandmother, may be ai aunt, or merely a family friend. The fact detachment from the family, so that she com< and goes, appears and disappears and reappeai at intervals, is interesting to the child. I remember a certain lady, who, as my mother's* intimate friend, often spent lo^t^jfifi^f:. at home when I was a child of nn [315] The Little Kingdom of Home "she was a woman with no immediate ties. She" had prim ways, wore her hair in waves, had dainty clothes, mostly of dove color; I recall a changeable silk the color of a dove's wing. Our friend made wonderful pincushions and needle- books, knew how to knit and embroider, and when she was with us, kept the house merry with her gay repartees and droll stories. We children gleefully shouted when she came, and cried when she went away. She had a funny little mincing step and walked as if she were a mechanical toy just wound up. But among the memories of my own ideally serene childhood's home, her figure looms up, still dear. Shall I know her, when next we meet, on the shore of the crystal river in the home where they go no more out? There are rules in the child's ideal home, but are few, and sensible, and easily understood. re are lessons in it, and duties, and things lo. The child in it is fearless and frank. He never been cowed and oppressed by arbitrary despotic control ; he has been treated as if ^l^e to be right and brave, as indeed, )JT^has. [3 "6] The Ideal Home for a Child It can hardly be ideal if in it there are no playmates. One advantage our grandparents had that our children rarely have. They were mem- bers of large families. Ten, twelve, and four- teen children were common in the old days. Read any genealogy of a Puritan or Cavalier family, and observe how exceptional was a small family. A boisterous, clamorous, mirthful, cheerful family of a round dozen made life inter- esting for every one. Our one child, or our two or three children in the modern American home, may suffer from a lack of suitable play- mates. It is not good for a child to be solitary. If there are no other playmates near, go out into the highways and hedges and compel the poor children to come in. They wiM often be found quite free from glaring faults, and not in the least objectionable. Children should have live pets as well as to and puppets. The friendly dog, comrade, plai^ mate, and chum, is an inseparable part of little master's life, once the boy has known th" joy of owning him. To refrain from cruelty animals is the lowest step in the scale of finement and humanity. something of the goodness that springs frot genuine love and understanding of domestic' animals. A dog for the frohc and the road, a cat for the fireside, other pets if possible, and the home approaches more nearly to complete- ness than without these pleasant companions. Those to whom a dog is merely a dog, and a cat only a cat, who look upon a horse as a creature to draw carts and carry burdens, have never en- tered into the mysteries and the joys that come )m sharing one's cup and loaf with our animal riends. A little garden is an adjunct to the child's >me; that i^ if it be his, and if he may plant, , and work in it, having flowers as In the narrow borders around a which make gardens for citizens, there ch room for a child's pleasure, yet a may be spared where pansies and in their season. I have seen a eed over a window-box gar- do with as he pleased. e child invites, as he His mother docs not ittle dirt. His room ^s his castle where he entertains his guests, often with a picnic hmcheon of biscuits or cookies, that have a more deHcate taste than viands served at the epicure's table. Here let me say that the normal child is always hungry, and that while theoretically food should not be taken between meals, practically, the boy or girl who comes in half-famished from school should have the freedom of pantry and bin, to a reasonable extent. A stone crock filled with fragrant doughnuts, a jar of spice cakes or cookies, a barrel of apples, leave to feast without asking, then a romp out-of-doors and liberty to stay there till supper-time, and the child thus provided for will lead an ideal life. [32i] l-c^^ ^ C AVIOR who the flock art feeding4 With the shepherd's kindest care, All the feeble gently leading, While the lambs thy bosom share, Never from thy pasture roving Let them be the lion's prey. Let thy tenderness so loving Keep them all life's dangerous way.** [322] CHAPTER XXI. Early Religious Teaching << W HEN shall I begin to tell my little child about God? When shall I let her know that there is a spiritual life?" The question is repeated in one form or another by anxious mothers, longing to do right, yet hesitating to unveil before their children's eyes what seem to them the incomprehensible mys- teries. The trend of your child's life God-ward, dear mother, should begin before its birth, in the sacred time when you are in sanctuary, awaiting^ the babe's first inarticulate movement bene^ your heart. During the beautiful months pregnancy, when maternity invests you with culiar dignity, you should reverently keep soul in touch with the divine, with the infii When the babe is in your arms, the atmosphe around it should be fragrant^^jj^^tr^fue pi( Your faith, a vital reality, wil [323: -communicated to your child with the nourishment -^ it draws from your breast. Long before a child can speak, in the earliest delicate unfolding of its being, a mother should pray over its cradle. Soon she miay clasp the tiny hands and repeat a prayer as she does so. As the baby life with amazing, al- most incredible, rapidity assumes new forms and phases, with the first step, the first speech, the first assertion of individuality should come the first prayer. There are no lovelier forms at first than the time-honored petitions for night and morning : Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep ; If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take." " Now I wake and see the light, 'Tis God has kept me through the night. To Him I lift my voice and pray That He will keep me through the day." onclude both these, and every ith the words, " For Jesus' sake, [324] " Our Father who art in heaven " is to l>e taught the child a Httle later, and then the Ten Commandments, the Apostles' Creed, the Beati- tudes, and some of the tender and majestic psalms of David may be learned, verse by verse, until the child knows them by heart. In every Scottish nursery, the little ones learn the metrical version of the Twenty-third Psalm, almost, but not quite, as beautiful as it is in the Bible itself. This is it : "The Lord's my Shepherd I'll not want. He makes me down to lie In pastures green ; He leadeth me The quiet waters by. My soul He doth restore again And me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness E'en for His own name's sake. " Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, Yet will I fear no ill ; For Thou art with me ; and Thy rod And staff me comfort still. My table Thou hast furnished In presence of my foes, My head Thou dos^jyith oil anoint, And my cup over " Goodness and mercy all my life Shall surely follow me ; And in God's house forevermore My dwelling-place shall be." A custom in devout households is to let the youngest child often say grace at the table. Any child in the home should be ready to ask the blessing if requested to do so, and the daily bread should thus be directly connected in the child's )ught with Him who gives it as His children id to be supplied. Father in heaven is so loving, so gracious, :ompassionate, the Elder Brother is so ready to lid we not let our dear children into the thought of God, not I'who beholds them in wrath, and who [to punish them, but as One who has ^with an everlasting love. Bays Phillips Brooks, " becomes le understands what it is to love irist. * I know that train me,' the good isciousness makes the Christlike." to come unto me, and forbid them not," said the Saviour, " for of such is the kingdom of heaven." Many of us think that as the child of a king is by right of his royal birth a prince from the beginning, so every little child born into a Chris- tian home, consecrated from the cradle, is by right of birth a Christian child. A little child of God ! While still very young, it is this child's right to be admitted to the close care and guard- ianship of the Church, and received into its communion. Mothers should not only pray for their children, but at times should pray with them. Prayer should be as simple and direct as talk with a friend who is waiting to bless by a swift answer, and who never turns any one empty away. Familiarity with that well of pure and noble English, the Bible, cannot be attained perfect] after the golden age of childhood has passed In a home where family prayers are daily cc ducted, the children hear large portions of Gc Word, and acquire texts and phrases, and to their stock of language beautiful and fitting quaint and poetical, rich and they can in no other way evel [327] The Little Kingdom of Home V' ■ authors as Shakespeare, Dickens, Thackeray,, Carlyle, and other masters in the past, show a knowledge of the Bible, and a facility in using it, that could only be the result of early reading and study. John Bunyan was saturated with the Bible, and it is the color of that inspired book which has made immortal his radiant " Pilgrim's Progress." John Ruskin, whose style in " Modern Painters," " Sesame and Lilies," " Stones of Venice," and other most suggestive and satisfy- ing books, is the delight of the cultured reader, as a child was drilled in the Bible, reading it over and over at his mother's knee, and memorizing many chapters. Frederick W. Robertson, whose influence over two generations of English-speak- ing people has been profound, knew the whole New Testament by heart. Rudyard Kipling, the most interesting and virile among our living men [etters, so knows the Bible that allusions drawn it crop up in almost every page, lat the early religious training of children in home is now neglected cannot be denied, students as a mass have but slight a^^ith it as literature, and but slight ll'it^binding authority. The epidemic [328] of crime and the wide-spread corruption which the newspapers chronicle; and which is generally- deplored, may be traced to a decline in the old fear of God which made men straightforward, and kept them honest and clean. If again the home shall instil in its little children a love for the Bible, and a reverence for its precepts, society will draw a deeper breath of security, and our penitentiaries will not be recruited from what we call the better classes. The Bible is a big, beautiful story-book, and children never tire of hearing the stories of the Garden of Eden, of Enoch, who walked with God, " walked so far one day," said a child " that he went into God's house, and stayed there," of Noah, Samuel, Samson, David, Daniel, the Children in the Fiery Furnace, of Ruth and Esther, of Vashti, of Mary the mother of Jesus and of Jesus Himself. Sunday evening should be for a child a ve happy time, when there may be singing and st telling, beautiful story-telling from the Book God. That which is implanted in the mind w is most receptive, most p!Skic, -ajfeeo it i receive and marble to retain," is never lost. To. old ag-e, the mind treasures the truths taught in early childhood. As we do not leave to the careless option of childhood the education in other directions, which it must have to be ready for the future, as, whether or not it enjoys school, to school it is sent, as arithmetic and grammar are made obliga- tory so, equally, with a sense of duty to the Ringer life, we should early impart religious lowledge. The first seven years tinge the entire fe. On the white page of babyhood write what and mother have the first chance, 'unbelief or heedlessness away from to train your little one for ''ou may so mould him, that no later tan undo your work. " My mother," lent minister of the Gospel, " brought icdom, one by one, a large family, fidelity andjier example." to obtain an instant's ightenment is that re- to teach a child any- is to cloud his mom- ness. From those •who have entered into and dwelt in the sweet, pure sunHght of God's love, no such folly can come. It is the impression only of those who stand outside. Others fancy that good morals, and good man- ners, and amiable traits may be inculcated and fostered, while religious training is omitted. There are homes where families love one another and do not seek to please God, it is true, but they are homes of ingratitude, and they cannot hope that their contentment and gladness will be permanent. When the storm of sorrow breaks, on whom shall they call? In the Christian training of a little child, re- spect and love for the Sabbath should have a large share. But the best day of the week should not be forbidding in its aspect, nor hedged about \vith, " Thou shalt not." " Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy," is the never repeak commandment of God. If holy, it must be hapi Of course, little people cannot sit the livelong dj straight up in their chairs, and keep perfect still ; they must play. Tlie lambs play and the birds sing on Sunday as on otheY^ little girl should not be oblige3^^ [331] The Little Kingdom of Home doll, any more than the mother should lock up her baby, because God has sent his beautiful day of rest. The doll to the little child is her baby. She may be taught to play less riotously than on other days, and her enjoyment may be quieter. A mother who cares to make the Sabbath pleasant may have a store of Sunday playthings, or boxes of blocks, put away through the week and brought out only on the Sabbath. Early in childhood the habit of church-going must be established, if it is to be the dominant habit of the life. Little heads in the pew are like flowers in the field ; and though the children do not comprehend all that is said, they do very heartily enjoy being in the congregation, sitting with grown people, and taking part in a cere- monial of which the music, the responses, the prayers, and even the sermon are impressive to them. What if a drowsy fair-haired child falls asleep in the arc of a father's arm, or another makes pictures on a pad with a pencil? The chief thing is that the home has brought its x^si cys^^-^p the church, and the children are earnln^r.^fe^'a^iarship God, and they are with Him, ^lace. [332] " The light of the Indian summer Fell soft on bright Broadway, Where the ebb and flow of commerce Throbbed swift and strong all day ; And men with anxious thoughts oppressed Passed on the crowded way. " In the surging throngs were people With weary, care-dimmed eyes, Who had half forgotten the story Of a heavenly Paradise — And, bent with earthly burdens, walked Unconscious of the skies : " Ah ! music softly pealing Through that sun-sifted air, Your strains brought gifts of healing To many a heartache there ; And men a moment stopped to praise. Who had no time for prayer." [335] [336] CHAPTER XXII. The Library THANKS to the enormous increase of our population and the commensurate multiphcation of schools, a vast deal of attention has recently been given to the endow- ment and maintenance of libraries in America. There is hardly a village cross-roads that has not its small lending library accessible to the people for miles around, on the payment of a moderate fee. In the large cities, libraries spring up every- where, so that it is possible for the poorest, who desires to be in touch with the great minds of all ages, to attain his end at the cost of a little per- sonal trouble. Notwithstanding the fact that the best bof are thus within the reach of the reading each home should possess on its own accour library as a permanent part of the home oi^ fit. Books stamp the home with a fine charac A dear old woman, hViner all by herself^ a New England hamlet, The Little Kingdom of Home B which her husband and children had gone on tq^J the better land, showed me with pride, one day, a superb encyclopaedia in many volumes, which she had lately purchased. As she was not partic- ularly devoted to reading and study, her own choice in literature being somewhat limited and almost confined to the Bible, the cook-book, and her weekly church paper, I expressed some sur- prise at the outlay. " Oh," she eagerly said, " this is a good in- istment. Here is something about everything has ever happened since the world began. There are pages in these books about all the historical ev^ts, from Adam down, the battles \t^ of the world, the crowned heads of le palaces of Asia, the great inventions ^veries, and indeed everything one can ^to know about. I have a great many people,- nieces and nephews and cousins, rfe in the summer and whose friends I ha\(^oticed that they seem to read I have bought these th^pr^y 5^ educational for them. tn I die,^JJ^^s€riesvwill be something for me The unselfishness of her position deeply 11"-/^^ pressed me, and, as I thought of it, I felt that ^ she had builded better than she knew. She had started for some fortunate legatee the nucleus of a valuable reference librai'y. In the household collection of books, whatever else there be, an encyclopaedia of some sort, a standard dictionary, a dictionary of dates, and a good atlas must be included. With this as a foundation, the edifice of culture will surely rise stone upon stone. Dividing books into three classes, we may regard them as our servants, our masters, and our friends. In the first division, we place such books as the New England gentlewoman pur- chased, books which in comparatively small compass carefully condense the facts that every one, lettered or unlettered, at times needs tp^^ know. When a question is brought up, at table or in a group of people, to which an e: answer should be rendered, it is well to at hand an authority to consult, immediately, fore the interest wanes. A little pains thei sure to be well repaid. Few volumes are better, reading than a good English^g^^^^It gi) [339I rO: v^i The Little Kingdom of Home not only correct spelling and pronunciation, but^ often cites tlie history of a word from its deriva- tion to present-day usage, with examples of the manner in which authors of distinction have em- ployed it. Though not consecutive, the dictionary is fascinating. Our duty to our mother tongue, too often neglected, requires of us a nice and exact use of words. One should always try to find the pre- cise word to represent an idea, and should not be contented with any other. In " Sentimental Tommy," Mr. Barrie shows the difference be- tween the mere prig and pedant and the scholar, when he paints for us his gifted little hero, wait- ing almost a whole morning to secure the word which precisely expressed his meaning. Care- ful study of the dictionary greatly helps an ele- gant use of words. It is the scientific method of ling, proceeding from the root to the flower, magnificent English language is a composite picture to which many other languages have itributed. The stately, sonorous Latin, the Hifluous Greek, the terse and pithy Saxon, the the sturdy German, the subtle all done their share to make our [340] language rich, copious, and flexible. To debase it through ignorance, to fall into slipshod ways of si^eech and writing, to drop heedlessly into slang when a fine and fitting phrase is within reach, are shameful sins against our mother tongue. In the home where recourse is often had to the sources of approved English, these transgressions will be few. Among the books which we may denominate masters, are those which at some period or other have marked a crisis in our spiritual or intellec- tual life, unfolding to us new vistas of thought, and arousing us to greater energy in some noble realm of action. The great masterpieces of the world take precedence of others in this divi- sion. As the springs of literature flow from their fount, we go back seeking the source, and find it in the Bible, in the noble epic of Job, in th( Psalms, and the grand prophecies of Isaial Ezekiel, Jeremiah, Hosea, and other bards an seers. We find Homer and Virgil and Plal forever young. Whoever to-day shall read the wanderings of Ulysses will be continually i pressed with the wonder^iil chan and brightness not onlyi ' -Qrign /} 'from time to time will find, with a sense of sur- prise, something that indicates the deepest ac- quaintance with human nature. The ancient and the modem point of view are not so very dissimilar. Dante, Milton, Shakespeare, the lofty ones whom we regard with reason as our masters, have led us by various paths, and have wonder- fully enriched and enlarged our conception of life. In this catalogue we include Goethe and jhiller, and, coming down to later days, we other names, Carlyle, Emerson, Long- yiow, Whittier, whose hands have clasped ours I the teacher's grasp, and who have profoundly irred arj^^lped us. ieyf moods and at some times we need to one compelling influence. Only the ive minds command, control and sway. reat books are our friends for all time. household words, and we feel as rstrolled_with^eir authors on many a )liday.^^hey ate our intimates, our companionable as a f books. You come t-of-doors, or from -business, cold, wet, weary, and not keyed up to conversation witli your nearest and dearest. Probably you are cross. You take your seat in a room where there are books on the shelf and the table, and their mute companionship offers you a sense of repose and refreshment, though you may not so much as take one in your hand. The prominent function of the book is of course to be read, but this is far from being a book's only use. One loves, if a book-lover, to see the books about, to sit where they are, to feel that one may pass a caressing touch over their bindings, to enjoy the pleasant fellowship they bring. I do not like books locked up like prisoners of state, and barred from the general handling of the family. If they are to be kept under glass, there are charming bookcases which swing back ^^^^ at a touch, allowing you to keep your treasure^ free from dust, and yet to get at them withov turning a key in the lock. Where it is possible, the bulk of the books tl belong to the family should be massed in a sinj room, which may properly be the sitting-room o\ the house. They need not be^^^k^^^^lusivel)^^ there, for every room should [343] id the different members of the family in their own rooms should be allowed to keep literature which has on them a personal claim. No room without a book! The singular notion obtains that it is some- what extravagant to purchase books. This is not well founded. Nothing else is so cheap as a good book. It is not easily worn out; it takes rank with the valuable possessions of a house, such as jewels, curios, and fine furniture ; it is not for one day, but for all seasons and all weather, and it relatively costs less than shoes, stuffs or wearing apparel, bread and meat. In the purchase of books, care should be taken that money be expended, not for purely ephemeral volumes, but for those that shall be a house- hold joy for years and lifetimes. As a gift for a wedding or a birthday, or a parent or child at any time, nothing is suitable than a book. It may be of poetry, or fiction, or some beautiful art volume lished with pictures and illustrations, which would have been out of the reach nobleman, but which now the ^''wi^. Artists and authors to-day [344] ^ork side by side and hand in hand to make books beautiful, and bindings are a dream of delight. When one looks back to the middle ages and thinks of the cloistered student who bent patiently month after month and year after year, slowly writing by hand the few books that were then accessible to the few readers of the world, and then considers how the art of printing has multiplied many fold the literary output of the globe, one is grateful to be living in the twen- tieth century. To-day, the farmhouse in North Dakota, the ranch in California, the cottage on the New England mountainside, may possess, not as a luxury, but as a matter of course, such gems of art and treasures of learning as no sovereign in mediaeval days of knighthood and chivalry could hope for, or could have bought with a king's ransom. In recent years there has been a multiplication^ of books about nature and animal life. TFie^ have their place in the home library, as als(? have books about gardens and gardening. Th( are all attractive because they persuade the reader to try pleasant life out-( The Little Kingdom of Home -have latterly been led to think oftener than be- fore about the life and needs of our animal friends, and of those wild beasts which seek their meat from God, yet which have certain qualities that command our respect and elicit our compassion once we become acquainted with them. The more we leani about her secrets, the more childlike is our attitude at the feet of the mother who spreads before us her open >k of the four seasons, each beautiful in its ly and time, and the nearer we get to God. iture is God's interpreter. Miction, romantic or realistic, can never lose place an^rnold in and upon the hearts of Ln wh^^we continue to yearn as children for of the story. Whoever can tell a iand entertainingly is forever sure of >>attention of an audience of thought- ^he story-teller is the modem standara'^^^^ which should have n theMS^^s^i-ary are those of Sir usten, George Eliot, William T^mckeray, Cliarles Dickens, George anieiHawtll>rne, and Mrs. Oli- [346] "phant. I mention the latter writer with intention, because in the long catalogue of her works, though much is of transient interest, she presents portrait after portrait of lovely English and Scottish girlhood and womanhood, giving beauti- ful examples for our girls to follow. These are but a few of the novelists. No library will be complete without some of the great essayists ; Matthew Arnold, John Rus- kin, Charles Lamb, Thomas Carlyle, Augustine Birrell, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walter Savage Landor, and others. Choose as you will, but choose. For historians we need Hume and Gibbon and Hallam, Macaulay, Motley, Fiske, Prescott, and many another. The shelf devoted to biography will be very jf ^iti^ rich in human interest, including such worl as Boswell's " Life of Johnson," the different bi( graphical studies of Augustus J. C. Hare, tl Life of Gladstone, of Abraham Lincoln, and tl lives of men and women famous in their age literature, in romance, in the pulpit, or in polities' In reading biography, one is always reading his tory, because a great man gathers around himseT [347] host of great people, and focuses around his person the leading events of his era. A word of caution is in order for people who think their children well employed if only they are reading. They may be well employed, or it may be just the reverse. Time spent over a bad book is time not only thrown away, but time assassinated. As we carefully guard the associations of our children and keep them from vile companions, from the company of the vulgar and the unscrupulous, so we should stand guard over the books they read. The seed of future infidelity and skepticism may drop into a young mind from a meretricious book. A boy may be led to go wrong, very far wrong, through reading the hairbreadth, daredevil adventures of some impossible hero, whom, in his inexperience, he admires and toward whom he turns as to an Foolishly the boy imitates and emulates the ts which seem to his young mind so splendid o brave. In gloomy prisons there are young serving long terms, men with ruined lives shoulci have been prolific of good, wearing fG;Jn servitude to the state, because 'netted in the formative period to 5§^ [348] ^ read wicked and impossibly sensational books^^ Reckless lads who start out as highway robbers, who wreck trains that they may have a chance to steal from passengers, who indulge in any silly and senseless crime inspired by bad books, have our pity. But what shall we say of parents who have allowed such foes to creep into their citadel? There are not wanting evil-minded persons who surreptitiously disseminate bad books and papers from mercenar}'- motives, and they are as much to be dreaded as the cobra or the rattlesnake. The good book may be a guardian angel ; the bad book is always an emissary of Satan. The home library should admit only the first and should bar out the other. A good plan is for father or mother simply to ask that the book that may possibly be doubtfi shall l>e read aloud in the home circle. No book ever stands this test. In order to keep in touch with the movemt of the community and of the world at large, no can afford to do without the newspapers. Peri( icals have their legitimate place in the home^ are as needful as daily jS&il^-£ach home- The Little Kingdom of Home z:^ make some provision for this outlay by a sub- scription to a weekly or monthly religious paper, and a secular daily, or at least semi-weekly paper, which gives current information. The world is drawn very closely together by swift means of transportation. Steam and electricity make knowledge run to and fro. We know the doings of the globe morning by morning. People who are not informed as tO' the current events of the ^ay are not keeping pace with the procession, lere is much in the press to which we need not ive very close attention, but there is a great ial more which we cannot afford to overlook, (d the familWncome, whatever it may be, should so m^^^ed that among the various demands in iWrnre shall be a chance to pay for litera- % m Sj^!ftP schools, pupils are every day questioned yents and are, as a part of their jLly eSlic^^ taught carefully and intelligently n^Jtb^ newsp^kp^ts^^Qpnversation at the home ^venMg lamp ought not to be ood^il^ossip, or to the small d the village, but should ffairs of the country [350] I'&ble and around ^ttifined to nei ?s of thr and the world. The farther we hve from great cosmopohtan centres, the more urgent is our necessity to study and learn, to keep abreast and know what people are doing over the hills and far away. [351] [353] L^ ^ ERE stand the champions to defe^ From every wound that flesh can Here science, patience, skill shall blend To save, to calm, to help, to heal. /^j^' -k IKC [354] CHAPTER XXIII. Two Friends of the Family FEW friends enter into the inner life of the home so intimately as do the friends on whom the family calls with confidence in its hours of emergency. Yet there is a strange paradox about this friendship. For instance, for months together we may forget all about the family doctor, till there breaks the spell a morn- ing when a child is flushed with fever, or there comes a midnight when sudden terror envelops a household over some one stricken and laid low. The swift impulse is to send as soon as^^ may be for the man who will know what to dj ""' whose entrance into the house brings with relief and courage, and on whose skill we stinctively lean. The physician is a persons of importance wherever we find him. He be a specialist who confines attention to insic ious maladies, or to whom th^gg^g^who threatened with blindness or [355]($ The Little Kingdom of Home m V' mysterious peril which suspends over their heads its quivering sword, and which they cannot de- fine or understand. What honor is paid this great man, yet he is less the family friend than the all-around old-fashioned doctor. His shabby gig in the country goes its daily miles over rough roads, through storm and night and cold. Alike he watches at the gates of life and death, is with the mother in her trial-hour, and with the old man who turns his face to the wall, as breath ebbs out with the tide. The homely figure of the family doctor is familiar to us all, and we know how cheery the sound of his voice, how pleasant the fall of his step on the stair, and how gracious the calm he brings to our perturbation. No man is so unquestioned an autocrat. All obey his behests. Not always may we read his verdict in his face, for doctors learn to be im- ssive, and to conceal that which might crash a thunderbolt upon anxious hearts. The Actor's training makes him alert, quick to see a mger and to fight it, and when he enters upon )ng campaign with a lingering fever, he has the skill, and the foresight of one 'fW)se foes who attack from under [356] •Cover. He is not easily daunted. The recipient of many delicate confidences, the sharer, it may easily be, of some unhappy family secrets, his professional honor is stainless. He holds secrets inviolate under a seal not less sacred than that which protects the confessional of a church. A man must have limbs of steel and sinews of whip- cord to endure the physical strain that comes upon him, often thoughtlessly called upon after his round for the day is over, often quite unable to secure what his patients and their friends sel- dom miss, a good night's rest. He is not without his peculiar trials, for those who send for him in haste frequently pay him at leisure, and he seldom utters a protest. The renowned specialist may have a deep purse and a large bank-account, but the family doctor is compelled to wait indefinitely for his wellr earned stipend, and his wife and daughters s; vey with some bitterness the rich clothing their neighlx)rs who are in the doctor's d( His books are commentaries on the fallibility" human nature. Derelict debtors blandly ignc their obligations, and send for the doctor The Little Kingdom of Home when they are ill. It would be unprofessional^^ for him to refuse attendance and ministration. In seasons of epidemic physicians assume a heroic stature. Gallantly they meet the issue. Martyrs, if need be, they shirk no service. The baleful wings of plague, cholera, smallpox, yellow fever, or typhoid brood over a city. Others flee. Doctors remain at their post. Promptly and efficiently they toil, going with equal zeal to the ^mes of squalor or of splendor. Sometimes are victims to their beloved science, and ^any a noble life has been laid down at last, the reless healer worn to the final shred. As of rsician, of such it may be said, " He Himself he could not save." !e doctors do not discriminate, but go same kindness wherever they are nshing their care upon suffering hu- generosity that is unparalleled vocation. In hospital the poorest teives the skilled service of the eminent Iwithool^Sffiafe^feid without stint. In /s^'^syr^^T is sc^advanced an art and iercifulyW^|!^^'?thetics has made possible uch tli*,t»^'OTcHjnh^rd of, that the death- [358] rate is lower and the life-rate higher than in any-/( previous age. As between the attention a surgical patient may receive in the most luxu- rious private house and that which is common to all in a hospital, either in public wards or in separate rooms, there is absolutely no com- parison. In the hospital every appliance is at hand, w^ith the most modern apparatus and the service of a corps of skilful doctors who are on duty by day and night. When, therefore, the family doctor advises that a patient be transferred from the home to the hospital, there should not be the shiver of apprehension and dread that once obtained at the thought. Only the ignorant or the unin- formed now retain the overmastering horror which was formerly general. When the ambu-^^ lance rushes like a whirlwind through the ci street, having the undisputed right of way as, hurries to relieve suffering, to snatch up some who has been hurt, and, if possible, carry with the greatest speed to the place where and healing may be given, it is as if this we the modern manifestation ol'--^^^^ ^" ou crowded streets. These deft-Hliaa^^lnd so The Little Kingdom of Home -what brusque-tongiied young men within it are sent on angels' errands and do angels' work. Within a short period the trained nurse, from being unusual, has become a familiar figure. Doctors, indeed, decline to undertake the charge of a critical case without her presence in the sick- room. She comes in, a quiet woman, young, neat, efficient, wearing a modest uniform, alert, obedient to the doctor, and, above all things, devoted to her patient. It is the part of the family who employ a nurse to make her as comfortable as possible, giving her a good bed and shielding from in- terruption her hours of rest. Sleep and exercise she must have. She is not superhuman. The complaint is made that the professional nurse is at feud with servants, and keeps members of the family away from the side of her patient. If Ijiloes the latter, it is not because as a nurse jas had training, but either because she lacks lanly tact, or is under orders. Servants de- dislikes for little reason, and may be jealous >mer. She has no smooth pathway, jpman is agonized with fear and hysteria, she is disqualified for [360] he duties that crowd upon the caretaker in se- rious iHness. Her very love is a source of weak- ness, and she is better away from than in the sufferer's presence. The nurse, being a detached person, looking at lier patient only as some one whom she must help and for whom she must do her very best, has not the mental complications of the anxious mother, sister, or wife. Good nursing has quite as much to do with the recovery of the ordinary patient as skilful medical advice. Whoever alter- nates with the nurse must acquire her air of calm and imitate her sleepless vigilance. All honor to her as one of the best of friends in need. Within the memory of women not yet old, it was a question of grave import whether woman doctor could be trusted in a diffiailt case The brave women who first studied medicir did so almost under a ban and against odds. It was extremely hard for them to secure the ed cation they sought, and they were immen handicapped by the force of disapproving a dubious public opinion, that surveyed them w^fth suspicion. Nobody believed ii^^^'^^dfmr^ nerves could endure the strain of the dissecting- room, nor that a woman's hand could be fearless and steady in surgery. At present every town and village has its practising woman physician, who ranks as high as the men physicians in the neighborhood who meet her in consultation, who is not academic nor amateurish, and who does not lose her head or shirk any disagreeable or dangerous office. In certain circumstances ^omen prefer the attendance of a sister woman, id are saved much nervous distress by having ich a practitioner within call. Women physi- ms are needed as residents in women's colleges, thejs^re invaluable to hundreds of girls, the, WQmen's wards of charitable institutions ildren's hospitals they are in the right wide field is open for them in foreign Jhe East women have been tortured )ecause Oriental civilization at its themjio allow a man's attendance, :y of ignorant women, e treated like outcasts of physical suffering women are concerned, 'd change has come. Women doctors from Western Christian lands have gone to the rescue. Medical missionary work is increasingly in demand, and enlists mag- nificent women. The flower of our women's colleges, the finest gentlewomen our time has produced, are enrolled in this noble profession, and. East or West, as medical missionaries abroad, or medical practi- tioners at home, deserve and receive respect and confidence. On the mission field their talents are freely devoted to the service of Christ and humanity. Missionaries are always poor in this world's goods. In private practice in the home land they exact and receive as large fees as do the men in the same profession, and are more businesslike, as a rule, in collecting their just dues. They are the home's peculiar friends and^^ allies, and, with the nurse, become includ among the most precious and intimate memb of a home circle, belonging in a close way the household they bless. Laborious indeed are the tasks both doctor nurse undertake. They assume stern respons bilities, challenge risks, dare the \
est-tossed sea. Hiifties should be sanctuaries, tion should ever invade them. No asperiti( Wight their peace. Once within the door of home, every sharp and bitter word should become impossible. People who love one another, who are loyally devoted to one another's interests, and would die rather than do another a lasting injury, dwell under one roof. Do they dwell at ease, never wounding, never dealing thrusts that are none the less poisoned because they are of the lind's forging, and not of the brutal dagger )r sword? Alas! there are few who do not mow by experience, or who have not been con- vinced by observation, that home is often the (east conol^rtable place on earth. Tempers are so diverse as to be incompatible. Toman may possess genius, may be superbly i^ and, in her own eyes, have a conscience )roach. Yet she has a fatal suscepti- ofifence. Her family are forever thin ice. At the table, warning fnals of rough weather ther. If you touch in len theme, a theme for- fy considerations of policy, the "^ er=^g. Look out for the [370] ^v The Fine Armor of Courtesy , explosion. I know good women, the salt of tne] earth, who are occasionally possessed by a duml devil. You cannot tell how he entered, or why, but there he is, and the woman, at her best sunny- hearted and sweet, sulks, frets, looks injured, and is silent. In the black shadow of that oppressive silence, every good thought takes wing and every hot resentment flourishes. To exaggerate the hopeless misery inflicted in a home, on a long- suffering husband, or loving children, by a tem- per of this sort, is impossible. Especially if it is pitted against tempers mercurial, thoughtless, rash, and inconsequent, if it have in it a leaven of dourness and gloom, the home that ought to be a heaven is oftentimes a hell. Unless we are blind or self -deceived, we do not usually drift without an inner protest into such expressions of annoyance or perverseness cloud the family horizon and provoke family y< As a rule we sin open-eyed. Apollyon bestradt the whole path, as he did in the " Pilgri Progress," and, instead of giving him battle,' bow and smile, and fling wide the heart's d^ and in he walks. As a child who is^perfectly w^ aware that it is naughty, in s^ [371] ^v The Little Kmgdom of Home deliberately from bad to worse, so we grown-up. children at times take delight in being hateful and malicious. But away from home, in the office, the bank, the club, the company of our friends, ill-temper would not be tolerated. We may feel as cross as we choose among our ac- quaintances, but woe to us if we show it. We may not take down the smiling mask, nor dis- play ill-temper unrebuked, except in our homes, where people forgive because they love us. Squabbles over matters of no account, argu- ments heated and tinctured with superlatives, fierce discussions and useless debates, are carried on, of all places in the world, at home. Brothers take opposite sides on a political issue; fathers and sons are alienated, both sides being so pos- itive that reconciliation recedes into the distance; husbands and wives, overcandid, overimpetuous, jak to one another unwelcome truths in un- lonious fashion, from a kernel so tiny that it was hardly visible ler a magnifying-glass, springs a tree that ters death from its branches, death to affec- kindness. Little spiteful things lateful. An ungoverned tongue, [372] 'a voluminous vocabulary, a habit of speaking without due thought, and home peace is wrecked on the reefs of the shore of disillusion. Objective causes of home discord are plenty. A man, at best a blunderer, brings home his business worries. A woman, tormented by her kitchen botherations, pours them out upon a tired husband. A great deal of wretchedness ensues when there are millionaire tastes to be indulged on poverty's income. A good many of us are overcome by the lust of the eye, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life, the same old tempta- tions. " Things are in the saddle and ride man- kind." Far too often, dissatisfied with existing conditions, we wear an ungracious aspect and remain in a state of chronic complaint against our environment. We might be at once emanci- pated, could we but acquire a heavenly art an say with Saint Paul, " I have learned the secre in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be co tent." The plain truth is that most of our home pi pricks, and most of our home tribulations, spr from purely subjective within, are born of van igs The Little Kingdom of Home ire, in a majority of instances, the result of inability to perceive anything from a standpoint not personal. In the home, a dozen times a day, we must accept another's view-point. The mis- tress must see a situation as it looks to the maid — must have the fairness to change places men- tally with the woman she employs. The child must be given the benefit of the parent's power to step into the child's world, the world of play, ^ swiftly moving present, the world where a disappointment looms so large. Because, use an old-fashioned phrase that we repeat in prayer-book most glibly, we are all miserable mers. we^re disagreeable, contrary, morbid, id thus we hurt our homes and destroy charm. The angel with a flaming shuts most Adams and Eves out of :is the angel of inordinate self-will |e, and he carries no weapons of FeaFs thejivery of Satan. selves and our homes ot through infidelity, unreason ? such rules as these, I. Allow thyself to complain of nothing, not even of the weather. " 2. Never picture thyself to thyself under any circumstances in which thou art not. " 3. Never compare thine own lot with that of another. " 4. Never allow thyself to dwell on the wish that this or that had been, or were, otherwise than it was, or is. God Almighty loves thee better and more wisely than thou dost thyself. " 5. Never dwell on the morrow. Remember that it is God's, not thine. The heaviest part of sorrow often is to look forward to it. * The Lord will provide.' " In the next place, let us put on and wear the fine armor of an unflawed courtesy. To be polite, no matter how great the provoca- tion to be curt and rude, is to turn away th< shafts of irony, of boorishness, and of ange^ Politeness clothes its wearer with a coat of m: which turns the edge of every weapon of attacj A little stately ceremony is not amiss in the hor The gallantry of the gentleman of the old school^ the deferent grace of the lady^ ancient regime, are defensive [375] /^b m .^.^ cursion of the blues, and of brusque repartee -=^^ born of those unhappy spirits. For one thing, it takes time to be poHte. You may knock over a chair or a child if you are in a hurry. You may be clumsy and inoppor- tune, and behave like a bear, if you have neither time nor good temper at your command. But the more haste the less speed, A few minutes on the right side, and you enter a room with an air of ease, you upset nothing, you speak to every one, you conceal your transient irritation, and presently you have forgotten it. We owe it to ourselves and our loved ones, in home life, to flavor every action with a fine politeness. This would save us from blurting out caustic comments which blister and burn. Praise and appreciation are the handmaids of politeness. The oil of praise silences the creaking of the hinge, makes smooth the daily intercourse, ish I might recommend to every boy and imCj the practice of that fine courtesy which is ex^essed in the lifting of the hat, in gentleness vt^^^rd wjQjcpoj^in reverence toward the aged, and ;-i^eriors. I wish I might remind that civility induces civility, that [376] )hly those who acknowledge courtesy are ever really entitled to it. People talk fatuously about company manners. In " A Window in Thrums," Jess assumed her English voice when she was greeting guests. Ah, friends, we do not want company manners for home life. We want manners so simple, graceful, and spontaneous that they shall be as natural as breathing. A common fault in home life and a common flaw of courtesy is the giving reproof before listeners. Children and servants must occa- sionally be set right when wrong. But reproof at its best is not agreeable, and when it is harshly or publicly pronounced it arouses an instant and irre- pressible opposition. A child, forbidden to an- swer back, with no refuge beyond a scowl, which itself summons a second reproof, is to be pitied. In the bright future, when we shall be altruisti(V as we are not now, courtesy will remind us that our criticisms must never be made before a thi person. Of all disagreeable situations, the wors is that in which one is charged with an error a transgression with oth The Little Kingdom of Home V' The fine armor of courtesy goes outside the home, and affects our manners on the road. It is, alas, in absence at our great railway terminals and in our street conveyances, where weakness and womanhood are ruthlessly elbowed aside, and rough brute strength crowds in, tramples down, and seizes the best places. Can it be that the good sons of good mothers take part in the fierce scrimmage that makes terrifying the rush-hours bridge or a ferry in a city like New York? iat has become of home traditions in a throng it makes of itself a wedge, and hurls itself on itever resists, even on old age and children? suburj^ train, one winter's day, a young the signs about him of student life, )ther tokens revealing him as from school, sat absorbed in a grammar. ^g a lesson for the next day. Oppo- kn peasant woman, a purple shawl ^ shoulders, a child in her arms, iwith little feet stick- it her side. She had iundle wrapped in a incumbered, the brake- lan announced her station. She struggled to her feet, baby in her arms, baby tugging at her skirts, bundle weighing her down. Up rose the young student and touched his cap. He picked up the bundle, he took the older child by its little grimy hand. " This way, madam," he said, as if addressing a duchess, " follow me." He assisted her from the train, returned, took his seat, and went on studying, serenely uncon- scious that he had helped weakness in distress, and j>erformed a valorous act. Whatever home had sent him forth, fine courtesy was there. It was a broiling August day in New York. Temperature ninety degrees in the shade. A woman past middle-age, lame, bulky with great unwieldiness of flesh, strove to step into an open car. She was awkward, clumsy, in pain. " Don't hurry, madam. Take your time," said one ger tleman, soothingly, while another, young, wel] dressed, clean-limbed, and athletic, sprang to hj assistance. We need not be pessimists. Good manne have not vanished from America — they are found in streets, in cars, in boats^ are crowds, some who compose [379] The Little Kingdom of Home cheerful and accommodating. But their nursery ^t^ is the home. The ethics of home Hfe that omit courtesy are imperfect, and unless we cuhivate it, cultivating as well sincerity and simplicity and genial cordiality for all, our homes will pay the penalty in an inevitable disintegration and dis- enchantment. " Home, home, sweet, sweet home. Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." t£=^ We cannot afford to let American politeness suffer by comparison with the politeness of any other country. The Frenchman and his wife, we are told, walk side by side, when entering some public place; the Englishman precedes his wife, who follows as a matter of course; the American follows his who, as a matter of course, leads the way. ;^h our American husbands are the most pngly generous of men, and American wives in a paradise, where they are spoiled, some y incessant homage, yet we can- r record. We are busy in money- times becomes money-grabbing, [380] beautiful task of setting a daily pattern in which there is never a line out of drawing. [381] [383] great Napoleon. When courage wavers, H up a song. The lagging regiment takes freslT heart when the bugles sound a merry note. [384] CHAPTER XXV. A Little Music Now and Then NOT long ago, in a neighborhood settle- ment in New York, I found a piano or two on every floor, and discovered that children and young people came to practice at every available hour. Lessons were given by excellent teachers, and the pupils, daughters of the tenements, who could not very soon hope to have a piano in their own homes, were diligent in acquiring technique and skill. Children of foreign parents, and coming from a music-lov- ing race and country, these little learners, German, or Polish, or Italian, were studying a refined art^ } and the endeavor to master scales and exercises was drilling them In perseverance, attention, and patience, as well as in love of harmony. Un- doubtedly in the course of time, as their families ,, rose and circumstances grew easier, they wotfld manage to obtain a pianc^ The instalment plar J, [3^5j: '\ 1^^ ^ (^. ^ The Little Kingdom of Home rJA^^ itself to these people of small incomes, and the^|>K "^ sewing-machine, the plush-covered parlor set, '^' and the piano are daringly bought on that basis, as, in our opulent country, the children's views of what are must-haves enlarge. To some ob- servers it seems idle to encourage these daughters of want and poverty in taking up a study so exacting as music, while their mothers are going out by the day to wash and scrub, or bending er an ironing-board. But the time they spend music-lessons and practice would be spent in eir only playground, the street, and they would rn nothing to their advantage there, while ted by every surrounding of the lerican homes of any pretensions are lis tuneful instrument. We hear its tes as we walk down elm and maple- )n summer mornings, and we can .without looking, little trim figures perched [by fingers striking the bored voices over and ' The little girl has on is braided in a pigtail, from her forehead. If there is a clock in the room, she watches it, and if there is a mother in the house, she watches both clock and child. " No, Amy, you have ten minutes more," she calls, and Amy, stoical in her resignation, goes back to her five-finger exercises and her weary strumming. Out of this drudgery, most little women achieve, not very much musical facility perhaps, but an endless amount of self-control. They reach a standard of painstaking which helps them in later years, when the question is one of housekeeping, or caring for an invalid, or bearing with a hus- band's caprices, or being entertaining in society under difficulties. They will be better travellers in a week's journey across the continent or a voyage over the ocean, because they have had some years of piano practice under the supervision of a rigid ^..,,,<^ teacher. Some of them will become good perf'^j^ff;^ formers, and in their homes there will be musr a charm, an inspiration, and a solace. Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes wrote in Atlantic Monthly, long ago, a very beautiful characteristic lyric describing the arrival of a piar in a household, in those homely day^when a piang/ [387] ,was a tning ot price and imported pense, the treasure only of the rich. " In the little southern parlor of the house you may have seen With the gambrel roof, and the gable looking westward to the green, At the side toward the sunset, with the window on its right Stood the London-made piano, I am dreaming of to-night! " Ah me ! how I remember the evening when it came ! What a cry of eager voices, what a group of cheeks in flame. When the wondrous box was opened that had come from overseas, With its smell of mastic- varnish and its flash of ivory keys ! " Then the children all grew fretful in the restlessness of joy> For the boy would push his sister, and the sister crowd the boy, [the father asked for quiet in his grave paternal way, le mother hushed the tumult with the words, •' Now, Mary, play." the dear soul knew that music was a very sovereign it over Sorrow and seen its brow grow [388] In the days of slender harpsichords with tapping tinkling quills, Or carolling to her spinet with its thin metallic thrills. " So Mary, the household minstrel, who always loved to please, Sat down to the new ' Clementi,' and struck the glitterintj keys. Hushed were the children's voices, and every eye grew dim, As, floating from lip and finger, arose the ' Veeper Hymn.' •' Catlierine, child of a neighbor, curly and rosy-red, (Wedded since, and a widow, — something like ten years dead,) Hearing a gush of music such as none before. Steals from her mother's chamber and peeps at the open door. " Just as the ' Jubilate ' in threaded whisper dies, ' Open it ! open it, lady ! ' the little maiden cries (For she thought 'twas a singing creature caged in a box she heard,) ' Open it ! open it, lady ! and let me see the bird! ' " Among the beneficent uses of a little music the home, none are more worth while than i power to tranquilize discordant and jarring- peo and soothe unmelodious moods as well as soun The great trouble is that good home player^re seldom found. A mussfikCL's.^ast^j^i^a The Little Kingdom of Home Generally speaking, the more thorough the train- ing and the more artistic the attainment, the less ready is the performer to sit down and play. He or she is out of practice, or requires notes, or has some admirable excuse to offer, and the piano remains closed. A young girl who can play accompaniments well, or play for dancing, or play for a tired father in the evening, or in a prayer-meeting for the sing- >, is a social and a family prize. She diffuses [easure at every turn, and one may depend on without fear of disappointment. ago, American ideas of music were '^nd, hand in hand with the crude- a notion that every young woman, jfsary part of her education, must play jhe could, when finished, as the phrase Home, Sweet Home," and " Mon- nth variations. She could sing — ping, Nelly loved so long." rmimdstilly^lghtrwiren slumber's chain hath bound lel ^^ond iiij>.i)|]Hffg^Tiiiij], the light 6i other days around me." or some other sentimental song. The Civil War- brought its rollicking strains — " Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching." and — •' Rally round the flag, boys, Give it to the breeze." and — " John Brown's body is mouldering in the grave, His soul is marching on." While around Southern camp-fires men sang, " Maryland, my Maryland," and " Away down South in Dixie," knowing full well that wives and sweethearts with breaking hearts and proud lips were singing them at home. A wave of martial music swept over the country in those tragic ^^Y^'^^^^'i when the cemeteries were dotted with their whj stones, and the ground drank the blood of best beloved, on both sides of the contest. Sii the Civil War an era of peace and prospei has followed that grim conflict, and our p( have amassed fortunes, and gained vast materia wealth, as the country has^,'ie:Yi^^ss^re hi developed. [391] We have the finest singers and the finest players of the world here, but only once have we gone mad over any great singer, and that was when the grandparents were young, and Jenny Lind came across the ocean. We plume ourselves on know- ing good music now. We have German and Italian and English opera. Our churches give sacred concerts at every service. Our greatest musical directors conduct " People's Singing Classes " among the poorest. Yet, it is an open question whether we get the good, the fun, the pure joy, out of our music that we once did, and whether the most advanced conservatory affords the unstinted delight that used to be the portion of a choir meeting in the country on a Saturday night, or a village singing-school Vvhither the boys and girls went, for innocent recreation, ingenuous courting, and incidental prstctice in do, re, mi, fa, sol, si, do! One of the arguments to be presented in favor of keeping up one's musical facility, if one h94)pen to have any, is that in the inevitably gjis(y days.-t^t, come into life as one goes onward, lt"^r"'ffjv^v' harmonies in reeds and rippling waves branches rocked by the wind. Earliest poet, this old earth, he sat beside the tent listening, \i ing, inventing the divinest thing the world ever heard. An elaborate musical ritual disffiiguished tl temple service in the later days, and in Babi [395] (2 TJie Little Kingdom of Home they had orchestral accompaniments of magnifi-^ cent harmony, cornet, flute, sackbut, psaltery, and dulcimer. Long before the Jews were carried away captive to Babylon, David, the shepherd-boy who became a king, played on his harp to charm away the demon of melancholy that had fastened upon Saul, and the moody monarch heard, and was saved. Music has this office yet, to soothe pained hearts, and uplift depressed souls. A girl I knew, having a lovely voice, well- trained and sweet, went, for years, on Sunday afternoons, to sing to an old woman who, also for years, lay on her couch in an upper chamber, whence she was never to pass until she was borne to her last resting-place. She carried to that room of suffering the sweetness of her voice, and ^ the radiance of her rarely beautiful personality, • "saJI.ever, as she came up the stair and turned the latch, it was as if one of God's angels entered door. Her friend was long since relieved m her bondage, and now she, too, sings on .other ,,^lj^, where the song never ends. s.-^ r , ^^ . .,. . ^ j^^i^ ^1^^^ home music should ^xq'liisite refinement. Nothing coarse, [396] Clothing tawdry, should be tolerated in fireside -^(| song. With this limitation, there is plenty of music, gay, merry, tender, lilting, and swiftly appealing to whatever is best in the hearts of those who sing or play, and those who listen. If the laddie has a fancy for the mandolin or the banjo, by all means let him have it. A boy is safe if he have some innocent hobby, that keeps him happy in his home evenings. The banjo does this, and the banjo, democratic among instru- ments as no other is, may be carried anywhere, and costs little. Says Kipling of this dear banjo: "Let the organ moan her sorrow to the roof — I have told the naked stars the grief of man ; Let the trumpets snare the foeman to the proof — I have known Defeat and mocked it as we ran. "The grandam of my grandam was the Lyre (O the blue below the little fisher huts !) That the Stealer stooping beachward filled with fir Till she bore my iron head and ringing guts. •' By the wisdom of the centuries I speak, To the tune of yestermorn I set the truth, I, the joy of the unquestiftRfid, L I, the everlasting wondt !S The Little Kingdom of Home In one corner of the home there will never be lack of music, and that corner is the nursery. Children are makers of music, with their laughter and their play. Mothers should sing to their babies. It takes little art to sing to an infant, cuddling it close, lulling it to sweet slumber, but insensibly, the mother's song fills the small world of the little one with gladness. They tell us now to lay the baby in his cradle wide awake, and let jim find the path to slumberland as best he can. im still so old-fashioned as to believe in rocking )aby to sleep, and singing over a tiny crib. D99] [40o] CHAPTER XXVI. Second Marriage YOUTH, elate and confident, scoffs at the mention of second marriage, sure that love can exist in its sacred completeness, only once. With doubtful eyes, it surveys the remarriage of the man, who but a little while ago was crushed under a heavy burden of grief and loneliness, who looked as though the sun had been blotted from his sky. The woman, who marries a second time, is equally reprobated by the thoughtless tongue of youthful romance, and when she exchanges her sombre crape for a garb of gray or lavender, and, in response to another suitor, again enters on a career of wifehood, slic is often accused of marrying for convenience from a mercenary motive. The greatest unfairness frequently characte izes the attitude of the romantic outsider who i^ a guest or an observer at a second Offering the usual signs of friendshi not hesitate to violate itsJ comments. A frequent byplay of contrasts the brightness of the second wedding with the grief of the husband or wife, a httle while ago. " Do you remember," cries the pessi- mist, " how inconsolable Harry was, when Dorothy died, how he went every Sunday to her grave, and laid flowers on it, in snowfall or pelting rain, not caring for the weather? Yet see how radiant he is to-day!" Who has not jeard this pettiness of comment a hundred times such occasions? The speakers forget that [ime creeps slowly in the house of mourning, and lat one 3^ear of grief, leaden-footed, is equal to iree dan^p^' years of joy. They forget graves hvn kindred, to which the paths, once idden, are now grass grown. No !i|can forever rem.ain in sanctuary. There be done. A few lofty souls may )piness only as a pale memory at ireside, but the great majority must life, or their capacity And hearts may have different lines, and the many rooms. Some [402] '^J l^ Second Marriage >of these may be closed and sealed by the ^^'^jA touch of death. Tliey may not be opened again. ^ The buoyant, blithe enthusiasm of love's young dream is seldom rekindled in the soberer fires of a second attachment, though these may gleam and glow with steadfast heat. Successive loves in the home do not reproach one another, nor is a second wife less truly loved than her prede- cessor was adored. Indeed, though in each true life there must be one supreme and ensphered love, flawless and unapproachable, this may not inevitably be the first. Of a great New England divine, whose name is scored deeply on our re- ligious progress and history as a nation, his biog- rapher says that he was the son of his father's '' third and best-loved wife." The good old man was married five times. Our Pilgrim mothers died like frost-touched plants. a^^S^ Pioneer life was hard on women. The gra'' yard at Plymouth shows that many of early settlers in the Massachusetts Colony \\ again and again married. They had little chc As their lives were ordered, they needed a A man is somehow more depenc at his hearthstone than a womj [403] The Little Kingdom of Home ,A widow is content in the home with its fragrant associations, its beautiful traditions, and unless her means are trodden down to the level of the lowest penury, she manages to keep the wolf from the door. She understands small economies, and practises them. If some husbands could return for a day or two from the graves that hide them, they would be amazed and incredulous at the good management of the wives whom they often declared incapable of taking charge of the most simple business affairs. A woman, be it noted, is accustomed to living by herself through the day, and when night falls, she sits alone with her heartache, and bears it in the fortitude that has come to her by inherit- ance. A thousand generations of women have learned to bear pain with stoicism, and crush back unshed tears. |n the other hand, a widower, for many homely !^ns, needs a wife. When he turns his latch- the door at night after a day's work, he its a welcome; a dear one who belongs to 'to greet him with a kiss and a tender look, itly to his rumbling growl about /rong, to congratulate him sym- [404] pathetically on what has gone right. To som( men, a daughter, a sister, a mother are sufficient for this sweetness of reciprocity that begins at the front door, overflows into the dining-room, and reaches its high-water mark in the after-din- ner graciousness of an easeful evening. These are in the minority. Tlie man who has known the deep, full satisfying sacredness of a happy mar- riage, almost always seeks a second mate. He longs for the content, the tranquillity, that only the worshipping husband experiences when united with a thoroughly congenial wife. Comradeless on life's road, he cannot walk. A man desires a head for his household, a friend at his fireside, a sensible woman who at times can disagree with his opinions and who can stimulate him to be at his best among men. Only a weak man wants an echo. Such tyrai as the father of Florence and Paul Dombey unpopular in America, and as a species are tunately becoming extinct. A man, howe energetic in his proper realm, is rather helpl( when confronted with the small daily exigei]/^es of buttons, patches, aad new feet. A widower wit •aside, feels compelled to find somebody to mother -^ them. It is my firm conviction that most women approach the extremely formidable tasks of step- motherhood with a conscientious resolve to be equal to them. The girl, accepting her lover, who rather incidentally alludes to his children as in need of a mother's care, intends to be more than maternal; she fancies that she will be an- ilic. She has a vision of herself the gentle leen of a new domain, in which charming, well- red, and beautifully attired children shall be |r devoted subjects. On her wedding-day she ''chamber before leaving it to pledge husband, that she will so bear her- leir mother in heaven shall never be her children have come under another hat the best children in the world nalightyfits. Boys are obstreperous. mpertii^^^^^therless children have e interval of bereave- indulgence of com- r by the ignorant neg- ts. Often the chil- ,dren bring aversion and suspicion to the new relation. They dread a stepmother, and are prepared to hold their own against her. The older children refuse to call her by the name, dear and precious to them, of their lost mother, nor should she ever request or exact this, until it is voluntarily accorded by their love. For win love she must, if she and they are to live in peace together and in mutual confidence. Children have a sort of witch-hazel wand which enables them soon to ascertain the quality of the new mother. If she is real, sincere, womanly, with more than sentimental romance about her, with a great splendid unselfishness as the bottom fact in her character, she will overcome every obstacle and gain the loyal ad- herence of the children she mothers. Babies are easily won. But the stepmother must forget step. She must be even-tempered, patient, ant, and just, as mothers are. Let me ei phasize the last adjective. Justice is the quality which cements and solidifies human rej tionship. It is the comer-stone of the beautijj fully organized household. On^^it^ ,qji a rock we build for seairity, fearless (^'■^^I^^Jll^fevWinj;' [407] -'^•*- Whoso offendeth one of these Httle ones, whose angels do always behold the face of the Father in Heaven, incurs a tremendous risk. When one thinks of the love that goes out of the world when a mother is taken from her children, love that is spontaneous, and deep, and steadfast, and that counts no cost, there is solemnity in daring to replace to the bereft that which is wholly in- efifable and untranslatable. To be negligent of one's children thus adopted into one's heart is almost as bad as to be cruel to them. No vanity, no low motive of convenience, no wish to have a home of one's own, should induce a young woman to become the wife of a widower with children, unless she is sure before God that she can love them. Stepmothers are surveyed askance by old serv- ants and retainers of the family, by the near tives of the children on both sides, and Society in general. If little Mary is not 5sed so becomingly as she might be, the neigh- [S set it down to her stepmother's grudging simouy^^^If Johnny is forbidden some ordinary reasons of health or prudence, is accused of harshness. She [408] ■must walk a very straight path if she would not be struck by random stones. So far from being angelic, she will be a fortunate woman if she remain decently civil, amid the animadversions that will be her portion to endure. Alas, it must be admitted that the true testing time comes when a stepmother's own little ones arrive. Few women are wise enough to dis- criminate with fairness between two groups of children. Without intention, without their own knowledge, they are partial to their offspring, and, strangely, are less so while the babies are little, than when they are grown. A woman who, in all sincerity, can maintain absolute justice toward her stepchildren in matters that concern division of property, when the children she has borne are in question, is a woman worthy of honor and reverence. A man owes it to his home and to the w of his early years, to see that her children sh equally with the children of his second wi in whatever fortune comes to him in later lif During their childhood, he should give every advantage that their juniors receive.^or should he forget that hQ$aifttii^4^5^i.i^niore The Little Kingdofn of Home c^ .to them than if he had not brought into his life and home another love than that he bore their mother. Stepfathers are usually entirely free from the reproaches that blight the reputation of the step- mother. Men fit easily into this role. No fairy- tale dwells upon the cruel stepfather. No lyric in literature describes the father stealing from his tomb at night to comb the tangled hair of js ill-treated children, frightening his successor th his white face and gruesome presence. Life id literature are alike kind to the debonair itleman who essays this task. The reason ^not far tp seek. If It were a mere matter of ^port, of acting as umpire, of now ittering a command, or smoothing 'ith a timely jest, a woman could as >man steer clear of reefs. But the ive in the home. She has the ler all the while. She does not cannot dispense what ownill^lTvdded 40 this, she takes her- and^isappointments more and therefore finds his can ever be. As we glance over the homes we know, and' in candor estimate their effect for good on the community, we must not withhold our meed of praise to those who, a second or a third time, un- dertake the responsibilities of matrimony. There comes a period in some lives when they must advance or retrograde. If they receive the right stimulus, the appropriate companionship, they will broaden and improve; if this is wanting, they will degenerate. Granted that the second marriage, for obvious reasons, must involve issues more complex than the first, it must also be admitted, that one or both parties to its contract has been taught in the stem school of experience. Neither, as a rule, is in the very earliest morning of life. Contact with the world, knowledge of society, the breadth and re- straint that accrue from meeting men and womei and above all, a sense of accountability to Gc should make those who launch into a secc marriage equal to its demands. A woman sho; not heedlessly pledge herself to stepmotherho< Having assumed the duties of its honorable es tate, fearlessly and with sinc^wever, miss the picture were it its familiar place. The masculine ^ [4.2] ,inind is conservative, and recognizes no particular need for changing things about. Somebody, ]yt- fore a wife comes into possession of a home that has not been hers from the beginning, should go over it with care, and see that she begins in a field swept clear of memories that have nothing of interest for her, I once read a clever short story in which a young wife, at home for the first day after her wedding-journey, explored her home, her hus- band having gone down-town. On what should she happen, but a letter addressed to " My Hus- band's Second Wife," written by the first wife during her last illness, and cunningly secreted in a bureau drawer. Its tenor was in the line of marching orders, covering every possible item from John's preference as to dessert to John's winter flannels, and it well-nigh robbed the poor newcomer of every shred of happiness Never was a finer testimony given to a man goodness and unfailing power to glorify his ho than in the witness borne by his third wife, Emil' Chubbuck, to the beautiful character of the Reve end Dr. Adoniram Judson, a famous early Arngfi can missionary to Burm V; The Little Kingdom of Home i wife was Ann Hasseltine, a woman of splendi( heroism and rare intellectual gifts. His second wife was Sarah Boardman, the widow of another missionary, spiritual, consecrated, beautiful, and a poet. Said the third Mrs. Judson in substance, " Since I have been my husband's wife, I can understand how he won and held the love and devotion of the very unusual women who were married to him before. He is the most consid- rate of human beings." Is not this the key-note of success in any home e? Whoso is considerate does not hurt the lings of another. Whoso is considerate does -rceable things. Whoso is consider- .rs a martyr's air. The word means izes every household grace, every gen- every renounced prejudice, 'ard home-building and home-making ing aright, is tO' bring something eaVeiT^^*«^eetness into every passing day. Failure in this nrg^s-^^t-break for somebody, viccess means tfie^^^^mEden in full bloom. ood HoiiscJ^^mg^ January, 1904, con- rz very remarkable story written by "A ther," and caUe^4' The Fanning of a [414] spark." It is so suggestive of what a good^?; woman may do, when she is possessed of love and discretion, and is willing to forget herself, that I quote it here. " The care of a * seemingly deficient child ' de- volved upon me when he was three years old. Up to that time he had not been taught even the most elemental points in the care of his body or personal cleanliness. He would sit for hours silent and motionless, not so much from imbe- cility as from mental indolence, apparently. " As he grew he seemed to be wholly devoid of moral perception, absolutely ignorant of the difference between right and wrong. He had no desire to be bad, fortunately, but if he had had such tendencies, he had no restraining conscience. Lacking this, there was danger of his leaning too ^ heavily on my dictum, and leaving all responsk-''^^ bility on my authority. Hence, there was ne^" of guarding myself as closely as I watched hi'm. * and I was especially careful never to give "^^a express command, but in all cases to sav, ' Thuiti -~ a bit, would it be best to do this way ? ' Th^ I did to develop a power to judgef a man whose moral commafifd my respect, I moved passed to association tnced him rapidly, and finally advised him to ' jump a year,' and enter^A the high school. This he did, ranking fourth in a class of seventy. Yet he was what is usu- ally called a dull boy, and but for careful develop- ment would probably have been actually what many called him — imbecile. He was not, in any sense, bright, active, or quick-witted. Neither was he fond of books. " In his earlier childhood I spent hours play- ing hide the thimble, or toss and catch with him, because when looking for any lost article he seemed absolutely incapable of judging what might be a possible place for it, but drifted about vaguely, and gazed at the ceiling for what was probably on the floor. I shed tears of joy the first time I ever saw him play with playthings. He was then eight years old, and was led into «^ it by an older boy, but he was really playii He seemed to lack the power of imaginati^ which made toys interesting. He'd get his t^ out when told to do so, but no play was spor neous. Therefore, I have said, I played him, and believing that * catching ' was one the best ways to develop a quicl^s^e^^^^rompt^ [419] -responsive muscles, I played toss and catch with J^ him. " Such was his habit of silence that he once said to me, ' I wish I had the " gift of gab." ' Then I told him to cultivate it, and told him how. His success may be guessed when I say that in a Western town, before he was twenty-one, he figured as ' the boy preacher,' in a denomina- tion famed for rejecting written sermons. " But the one thing I like best to remember, now that he has ' passed on,' is this : When past thirty, he said to me in the presence of others, * I can never thank you enough for not allowing me to carry my hands in my pockets.' His mature judgment approved my seeming intolerance, and his manly, voluntary avowal was a source of great pride and gratification to me. My ' non compos ' boy w-as now a man, and one friend knew him from the first said, * You'll never r^our life a failure when you look at that [420] [4^1] [422] The Place of the Spinster W HAT India needs," wrote a mis- sionary from her field, in a moment of desperation, " is a large con- tingent of contented spinsters." Hindu women marry in their earliest girlhood, and few of them are free to serve as teachers in schools, or in any capacity beyond their homes. The spinster will probably find her way before long into Hindu civilization, and she will come in the wake of the factory and the mill, which are in these days calling women in the East to daily toil, and up- setting all previous conceptions and traditions. But she has not as yet appreciably modified life of that mysterious land, so different irdf ours. There girls are still married in childhoc and are old women when we are in our prime. " Oh, East is East, and West is West, And never the twain shall meet Till earth and sky stand pr^( At God's great judgment se The Little Kingdom of Home In the Western scheme of things, spinsterhood. has ahvays had its inherent vakie, but until lately there has often been in the condition a subcon- scious feeling of reproach. To be an old maid was considered most pitiable in days as recent as the earlier time of such a poet as Holmes, who wrote a bantering verse about " My aunt, my dear unmarried aunt." Whittier treated the spinster with a rarer chivalry, and etched her portrait in occasional lines, full of fine spirituality. But take it all in all, the nobility of the spinster was in literature a fact that the British novelist refused to accept, deriving his conclusions from the common and open striving of the British mother to settle her daughters in life. This un- concealed endeavor was characteristic of other lands than England, and in every country where parents arranged marriages, and daughters were )awns on the chess-board of fate, spinsterhood naturally regarded as a reproach, the unde- }d girl being a little like a piece of goods, left 'er and neglected on the bargain-counter, ''ith us, the background of marriage is almost le personal equation. Jle marry primarily for love, and [424] parents acquiesce when sons and daughters hav^ settled their affairs. Contented spinsters and con- tented bachelors are much more numerous than we could wish, from a combination of causes and circumstances. With increasing wealth, city life makes pro\nsion for the comfortable living of bachelors in apartments where they have every luxury, and little responsibility, if they have the wherewithal to pay the bills of janitor, valet, and cook. Young women, engrossed in congenial tasks, students, journalists, artists, teachers, unite in making a home for themselves, a half-dozen or more cooperating in very dainty housekeeping, and sharing expenses. With the acquisition of a college diploma, many girls are indifferent, if not reluctant, in their atti- tude to marriage. Love may seize them from some ambuscade, and carry them suddenly caj tive, or, after a long and ardent siege, tl may capitulate to an eager suitor, but they no special wish to marry. They do earne? long for a career, for a chance to try their wea^ ons, to see what they can attain to, professional And everywhere, the unmarried girl is not^pfrily wanted, but clamored fc The Little Kingdom of Home c^ She is needed in our colleges at home, to teach^ languages, political economy, physical culture, sociology, advanced mathematics, and whatever else a liberal curriculum includes. Kindergart- ners are urgently needed around the globe. A cry comes for physicians and nurses from every cor- ner of the Far East. The woman who has talent, education, and consecration, who is detached from family obligations, and able to devote time and ^rength to any phase of altruistic work, is in miand, and worth much in this restless and [ushing age. A single woman, between her i^'enty-fifth and her fifty-fifth year, has no reason dread th^^gma of old maid. It will never be ler in an opprobrious sense, if she is, virgin, with oil in her lamp, burning [steady flame for the redemption of the darkness. :h women as Mary Louise Booth ^illard have made noble and saintly iter. Florence Nightin- ve immortalized it, as d the hospital. Helen Qed it with a diadem of -atin^iving, and unostenta- ion of Clara [4.6] tioiis charity and patriotism. In art, in letters, in_^v^ distinguished services of every kind for humanity, the spinster has written her name high on a stain- less scroll. But in lowly ministries in obscure homes, the spinster's mission is not less a definite and dig- nified one. Thrice blessed is the household which has a maiden cousin, aunt, or sister, ever at leisure, ever ready to fill in a gap, and ever youthful enough to understand and condone the impetuos- ity and the rash judgments of the young. The spinster, having no man of her own to whom she must defer, whose opinions may be supposed to color hers, and to whose daily requisitions she must conform, has time to be pleasing to all men, or, at least, to pay to all the compliment of listen- ing to their anecdotes, and assenting to their con- <^v;^^ elusions. Relatively, though not immature, s\ '^"''" "^'^^ continues youthful longer than her married sist^ whose boys and girls so soon shoot up from baj hood to adolescence. A single woman, who has independent me? may lead a very delightful life after she has passe her fortieth birthday, and frajjlci^^^nitted tc herself the idea that she may hell [427] The Little Kingdom of Home Ci. She is right if she prefer to have an individual^ home, imless she have parents whose stay and con- solation in their dechning years she happens to be. To reside under the roof of a brother or sister as an appendage to another circle, is a mistake. Let her go to her kindred whenever they want her, but with the pleasant knowledge that she has her separate home, to which she may retire at will. With a maid, or a friend to accompany her, the spinster may travel, explore, dwell in tents in the desert, or in a cot by the northern sea. She may be a Lady Bountiful, scattering blessings broadcast, or a princess, dispensing favors with her smiles. The spinster who is poor, may be as independ- ent as the other, so long as she has health. But health means so much in her case, that she should not waste it by any thriftless expenditure of ngth that should be jealously economized as ve capital. In business and professional Iks, her place is assured, and the young people o grow up to love her, have in their hearts a derr^s^x^t dissimilar to the affection given rs. edHhat the elderly spinster may be a [428] jersonage, while the elderly bachelor is like a ^^^ sparrow alone on the housetop. A sense of obligation shirked, hangs about the man who has never taken to himself a wife. With a woman who has never accepted an offer, there is an unspoken sense of queenly isolation. It is taken for granted that a woman has remained single under protest from her admirers, wdiile a man, supposably, has done so from mere selfish- ness. This is not true, of course, in every instance. Men deny themselves the pleasures and dignities of happy marriage, that they may educate younger brothers, or care for helpless relatives, and there are those who, vowed to the church, are celibate from principle. And women there are, pure as the snow^s, whom no man has ever approached with the breath of desire. - Of spinsterhood deliberately set apart fror the world, and devoted to religion, the sever' orders of the Roman Catholic Church, Sisters Charity, of whom the w^orld is not worthy, at eminent examples. There are Protestant sister^ hoods, also, vowed to lonely lives of heroic se^ ice. These women, deyoted to .Christ, fearlessly into fever Wc The Little Kingdom of Home •tals, care for incurable patients suffering with loathsome maladies that follow after war has done its horrid work, healing and helping as they may. Some of these virginal women are vowed to lives of prayer, are recluses, never entering the world they have left, and who knows the good their prayers do? " More things are wrought by prayer than the world dreams of." God ever bless them all, the little sisters of poor. le seamy side of the spinster's position, in Jo many homes, is that she is never grown up ofjier family. A woman, not natu- or disposed to self-assertion, is tutelage and authority long after she years that should give her independ- may be a daughter at home, with no as she asks for it, or it is given her I have known women nearly ore liberty than they had at mother will hold in forty-eight and fifty, ispute her word than ried woman, who has she has ever decided anything for herself, is hke a shrivelled rosebudX^ Never can she hope to unfold. The day of bloom and expansion is forever past for her. It is humiliating to be treated as a child, when one is older than one's schoolmates, who have grown children in their homes. To ask if one may make a visit, or take a journey, or buy a gown, or give a tea-party, is mortifying, though consent be graciously accorded to the plea. The adult woman of mature age should not be com- pelled to ask such privileges, if she be a daugh- ter at home. As a matter of right, such a woman, under her father's roof, should have one of three thinsfs: wages for her services, an allowance to cover her necessary expenses, or carte blanche to do as she pleases with her father's money, unchecked and^<^^^§^^, unreproved. Neither, as a rich man's or a pc man's child, should she be kept in the position oi penniless dependent. For her future's sake, the spinster should oa^-Mi^ tivate breadth of vision and many interests. Sfle r— ^' may have pets, plants, fads, hobbies, but none or ^ these should be her sole resour^^^^^i^j^an cai not pour out her whole being oSf [43.] • •a flower, a camera, or a prize poultry-yard. As a barrier against the incursions of desolate days, that may come when her kindred are gone, she should make and keep friends among people of various pursuits. One's friends must not all be of one's own kind, or of only one kind. There are those everywhere who may be bound by ties of strong affection to a friendly soul, and in some emergency, some rainy day, they may light a torch to cheer the wayfarer on. The best counsel I can give my spinster friend is to be like " My Kate " in Mrs. Browning's sweet verse, — <' 'Twas her thinking of others Made you think of her." The woman without ties, who stands alone, should look about her for some other woman, illy solitary, and try if, in some way, they may join their forces. The income, inadequate for [, may be supplemented by the addition of an- small stipend, so that it will make a sufli- for two. ^omen, who have arrived at mid- it travel, without experiences other [432] Ahan those belonging to their native town, may,- by a httle planning, see something of the greater world, and at a comparatively trifling expense. In the twentieth century, travel is not the monop- oly of the rich. Any one who studies ways and means, may travel in respectability, and without spending more than a slender purse affords, if she is brave enough to undertake the enterprise. Here, too, a sisterly friend doubles the pleasure and halves the expense. These are not the days when women leave mental culture behind them when they are out of the schoolroom. Tlianks to the reading matter everywhere obtainable, and to the influence of women's clubs, which are postgraduate schools for the middle-aged, the opportunities for intel- lectual growth are multiplied. A persistent, resolute struggle with a new study, a valiai tussle with a foreign language, a concentrated ai intense effort to understand . something hitherj unknown in science or mathematics, will bei better freshener and a greater beautifier to th] spinster, half-way on her life-journey, than c^ metics, or other recipes for remaining youn| When one has, by ps The Little Kingdom of Home !% .ance, acquired an accomplishment or an art, has made an advance in botany or geology, or any other department, it is wisdom's part to hold on to it firmly. Unused tools rust. Unused talents lose their value. The finest mind may be atro- phied by idleness. A woman, married or single, should be charming to her latest day, and she cannot be this unless she is interested in things about her, and able to put her likings and apti- ^des to good use. lie most popular and admired woman in a [stidious and distinguished circle, is one whose ssence in any room is an illumination. Around men of letters, artists, soldiers len ; she is queen of a brilliant coterie. )re her. She is in no sense a man's is rather a woman beloved by her ^d believed in by the other. No longer gained beauty with the years. Back in her winsome girlhood, le tender love, early ^paration. An ideal 'has never been, her s^r replaced. But of this re. She is never un- lappy, and never so happy as when bringing her welcome presence to a betrothal or a wedding. She loves children, and is always having them about her. Santa Claus finds his way to her home, and little stockings hang around her chimney; little stockings that fit little rosy feet that she sometimes kisses, as she tucks them up at night. God gave her the mother heart, but she must pour its wealth of love on the children of other women. Not all who bear babes have the true maternal impulse that bourgeons in spinster lives. This benignant woman, who is the inspiration and joy of many homes, is not to be compassionated, although she is an old maid. [435] [437] 'HEN the worldling, sick at heart, < Lifts his soul above, When the prodigal looks back To his father's love, iWhen the proud man, from his pride, ^Stoops to seek thy face, Hear then, in love, O Lord, the cry- In heaven, thy dwelling-place on high. [438] CHAPTER XXVIII. Prodigal Sons NO story in the whole realm of literature is more touching- than the parable of our Saviour in which he tells of the way- ward boy, taking the portion of goods that was his by right, and journeying to a far country, where he wasted his substance in riotous liv- ing. And when he had spent all, and was re- duced to famine and to the husks that the swine did eat, he looked back to the far land and the father's house, where was bread enough and to spare, and said, " I will arise and go to my father." Among the most crushing agonies of hut experience, is the carrying a load of grief care which must be hidden from the eyes^ friends and neighbors. When a sorrow is re; and wears the purple, it may be borne prou« although it rend the heart. But when it is mean! clad and lurks out of sight, ar of shame, it is harder to enc [439] TJie Little Kingdom of Home household of the stricken, there are those who plant flowers on lowly graves, and garland, with asphodel, a vacant chair. There are others who firmly repress the moan of anguish, who wear no crape, who never allude to the empty place at the table, the missing one in the home group. His name may be forbidden there. A stern father, relentless, though wounded to the core, has pro- hibited any mention of the absent son. To the family it is as if he were dead. The mother weeps In the night. She never forgets him in her pray- ers. There are homes where a light, literally, burns in a window for years, that haply it may guide the faltering feet of some home-retuming prodigal. Should he come home, from the far country, as far from home's purity and peace as sin is from heaven, the father's heart, as surely as the mother's would melt at his contrition. lit too often the erring child lingers in the refusing to return, hearing no call of aware of no mood of penitence, and satis- with the famine-bread. Or it may be that he The grim penitentiaries that shut tchedness and dreary discourage- Sr walls, are not filled only with [440] .tlie flotsam and jetsam of the swarming tene- ments, with the offscouring of the earth, with men bred to the profession of the criminal. Re- fined and educated sons of good fathers, of good mothers, are there, men who took the portion that fell to them, strayed into dens of vice, fore- gathered with iniquity, and consorted at last with the swine. Every such man, locked at night into a narrow cell, suffers not in solitude, though it may seem so to him. Wherever his home is, hearts are crucified with his, and the deeper is the heartache that hope has been abandoned, and love can make no outcry, and utter no protest. A family, apparently blessed with every gift a kind fortune can bestow, conceals from kindred and the world its anxiety over a wayward lad, who has yielded to temptation and fallen. Per- haps through his social gifts, perhaps through a^ weak will, perhaps through a vacillating purpos the youth has lost his first integrity. Evil com- munications corrupt good manners, and b| companions are the bane of boys who start on road with brilliant talents and fine equipmei Some homes are too rigid. Sons and dauerhllftrs are governed so strictly art of self-government, and as soon as they are emancipated from restraint, fall a prey to the tempter. Whatever be the provocation, the home has no right forever to cast off and disavow one who is its cliild. More wrecks on the shore of fate are due to intemperance than to any other single cause. With saloons blazing an invitation on every street corner, offering warmth, cheer, good-fellowship, id cordiality to the young man tired with a hard ly's toil, and having little to make him contented the apology for a home which is all the poorest ^ve, it is no wonder that drunkenness is the curse the laJ^i^Tng and the little-educated classes, ^pushes open the door, steps in, finds who chat of politics or of the latest sensation, puts down his nickel or his ikes his glass ; the husband, paid off, /ages that mean shoes and bread and^the patient wife. No pen can id misery that intem- Into the bartender's ^If-respect, and the last leant the needs of life to support. Worse than this, the stuff taken in the saloon puts mur- der in the hearts of men who, when sane, are kind and loving. Three-fourths of the crimes of brutality are committed by men under the domina- tion of vile liquor. Not to the poor and illiterate are prodigal sons confined. Men born with the golden spoon, wrapped in finest linen, and taught in finest schools, yield to an insidious craving, and become debased and degraded. A race of stalwart, sturdy, moderate-drinking men by degrees degenerates, loses moral tone and fibre, and its last representative, taking what seems an innocent drink at a class dinner, or at a friendly table, in company with gracious ma- trons and lovely maidens, is, from that instant, lost. Down-hill roads are smooth and slippery. Before he has had time to fear peril, there is leashed, in this victim of past indulgence, a beast, in the form of tyrannical appetite that be indulged, or it will tear him to pieces, would better be torn and die at once, but he not comprehend the danger or the despotisil The drink itself is not what he^i8i2fifei4R.it the citement. the dream-world, the [443] The Little Kingdom of Home f the subtle gladness that steals through brain and J^ nerves. Most piteous is the condition of the periodical debauchee, who may, and often does, continue perfectly sober for weeks and months. Then a day dawns when a whiff from a wine- glass, a faint flavor in a sauce, the breath blown out from an open door as he passes on the street, carries him captive, and he is gone. I have known such a man, young, rich, of commanding pres- ence, of chivalrous nature, of debonair manner, transformed by this enslaving passion, three and four times a year, into something demoniac. Neither love, nor remorse, nor science, nor human skill can save a man drawn inch by inch into this quicksand of despair. One only power can save the periodical and inveterate inebriate, and that is the converting grace of God. As from a woman is expected moral force stronger, and purity more invincible than from )an, woman more than man conserving lignity and establishing the enduring excel- ^e of the home, a woman's fall is a more sur- and ^more grievous thing than a man's. ^rfatal spell of a passion for intoxicants, a queenly woman brought so low that ^ [444] she has reeled in the gutter, that she has resorted to every shameful expedient to secure the poison that was killing her womanhood, and have at last stood beside her coffin, grateful with her relatives that the tragedy was ended by the mercy of death. Home itself should be the bulwark against tampering with anything so deadly. As well open the door and let the hooded cobra glide in, as habitually serve wine on the family board, to the possible ruin of some one, child or guest, who has a right to a fair start and no handicaps. That social drinking among us is on the increase, and that women not only condone, but engage in it, is mournfully apparent at this time. Home teach- ing and home training should erect barriers, should create a convincing sentiment, which can- not be thrown down or controverted. Equally the home currents should set steadily^ against dangerous and baleful meddling with p nicious drugs, opiates, narcotics, and nerve stimu lants. By imperceptible but steady degrees, opium habit binds its victims hand and foot, bein if anything, more fatal in its effects and hopeless in its despotism than the alcohol h Language halts at the irtltclequacy,,iii>l5its .^yr^bci'lfe The Little Kingdom of Home m q portray the inferno which yawns for those who have fallen under this weird and pitiless tyranny. They begin by taking an injection of morphia to dull pain, or the infinitesimal fraction of a grain to still a gnawing agony, or rout a dreary insomnia, and little by little, the creeping horror gets them in its clutches. At a great price, some are redeemed. For one who is snatched from the vortex, hundreds perish miserably. If, through any mischance, a member of one's 'f^ily has fallen by the wayside, the famil}^ rt should be to reform and restore him, and hield him from the world's criticism and from lie knowleig-e of his weakness. About and und tl^^rring one the household, if it can, like a wall, securing him from at- ing him from temptation. If there m ,^5B.£'white flock one black sheep, let the one in the centre and hide it in vil da^'ir'there be one gone astray, let love d it, an(iJ^^fL^>kanger bar the door on IS ww^ajse tea^^^anS^ompassionate in our leifiEVDf disease, we should be gentle and thoiiJ2rh^^'^^dl««iCi«-^nioving temptation [446] ^hen the malady is a moral one. Inflexibly in- j(^ tolerant of sin, we may be on the watch to aid and uplift the sinner. Returning to the parable of the prodigal son, one cannot but have some sympathy with the elder brother, who came in from the harvest-field and found music and dancing, his graceless brother basking in forgiveness, clothed in the best robe, a ring on his finger, and shoes on his feet. Long years, in sun and shadow, this brother had never given his father an hour of anxiety. He had plodded on through every change of weather, in ploughing and sowing and reaping, and yet, said he, morosely, to his father, " Thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends." The steady-going, trust- worthy, faithful children of a house are some- ^^ times disposed to quarrel with the fuss made over/^ a repentant and returning prodigal. But tl father's answ^er is ever the same. " Son, thou art ever with me, and all that* have is thine. But this my son was dead and' ahve again, was lost and is found.' The stay-at-home brother who^ h^t^no^memory of past excesses, to rise before [447J /5 The Little Kingdom of Home in the night, who never feels the poignant thrust of remorse over errors that, though forgiven, ache as do old wounds, who never enters a gloom that blots the very sun in mid-heaven, has no reason to envy the other. Lost purity may be forgiven, but the knowledge of it is an acute tor- ment to the awakened conscience. Well may homes deal gently and lovingly with those prodi- gals, who, from, very sorrow and self-disgust, may plunge again into the abyss. [448] [449] ^:m 'HERE are gulfs that are never bridged^ wounds that are never healed; wrongs that are never repaired. A broken home cannot be mended. Heaven help those who break it. [450] nr Of Broken Homes ILL death do us part," is the solemn ■ note that strikes a minor chord in -*- every peal of wedding-bells. The view of the Roman Church that marriage vows are sacramental has not formally been adopted by Protestantism, yet nevertheless every true marriage should be regarded as a consecration of each to the other for life. Notwithstanding the clamor of Ill-assorted pairs, and the bruiting of their troubles in the press, the prevalence of easy divorce, and the lax judicial procedure which makes marital separation more common than in an earlier day. the vast majority of our people live loyally an! happily together from the wedding-day onwarc In different States, different complaints constitui a ground for divorce, abandonment, failure a husband to support a wife, intemperance, cruelty, incompatibility, and infidei^jj^ing the usual causes urged. In some ^fmSBrBm. trii [45 >] ■seems sufficient to break " what God has joined together." In some ranks of society, notably in those which have most wealth and least reason for exertion, luxury and ennui produce their natural effect. People weary of one another. A little friction, a little unchecked temper, and incompatibility is pleaded. Some one else, in the prevalent laxness which in some circles allows a dangerous freedom to married people, proves more attractive than the husband or wife, and, by a few passes of a tolerant law, the knot is untied, to be retied immediately. It is like the children's game of stage-coach, this frequent changing of partners in life's great game. And it is to be noted with regret that familiarity with this condition of affairs has blunted the edge of dislike and lulled suspicion, and done away with aversion. Time was that divorced people not accepted without due investigation and Issurance on the part of society that they [•e the injured, and not the transgressors. A ^e lenient judgment in New England, the and the West, obtains in the large )0utli, the divorced still lose caste, be much more respectable to bear [452] an ill, however great, than to escape it by lega enactment, once people are married. The ex- ception is, of course, infidelity, but even this, in many instances, is borne with in submissive patience by those who wish no stain upon the family escutcheon, and who cannot endure the thought of dragging the family name in the mire. While divorce has become so frequent as to be a scandal, it has not yet assumed such propor- tions as to justify despair. Still every village and township has its clustering homes, where parents and children dwell in peaceful unity. Men and women lead clean and wholesome lives. Young people grow up, and love, as evermore since Eden, woos and wins the mate. The city draws to itself elements that have in them the possibility of menace. Up-country, where the apple-blossoms blow and the robins sing, th hearthstone is unprofaned as of old. The h of the whole countr}^ is in the plain living an high thinking, the virtue and the thrift and S| denial of the average middle-class people, ^^•' regard divorce as an abomination, and exn^t' to spend their lives in mutual service. Ethically, iA.mericans condemn ^^^cot^ri^i^S/lli^l^igS^iS^t 'V. exists as a tolerated and deprecated sign of th« times, but it has not tali^dfe men and fair women, dear; what "i^^^gainst them ? " 1^ [472] I don't like to be where people wear their best clothes so commonlike, and dress for dinner as if they were going to a party. It vexes me. I was brought up to keep my best gown for weddings and funerals. John's wife wants me to dress up in it nearly every afternoon." Poor old friend! Before she was ready to come and make me the long visit on which we compromised, a messenger from the King called her very gently, one wintry morning in the early dawn, and she went to put on garments sucli as the saints wear, raiment white and glistening, in her Father's house. Elderly people should be permitted to have their own way. They ought to be treated with deference; they ought not to be annoyed by ill- timed and intrusive attentions that accentuate and emphasize their lessening powers. Th( reason why they are quick to resent and declij assistance is that they instinctively fight againsf the weakness that challenges them from the tance, and they hate to feel that they are grac ally being pushed to the rear when they always been in the van. To some of our dear-Old fc [473] gentle summer of St. Martin when they live mostly in the past. Incidents and events of the moment do not deeply impress them, they are back in their morning time. Second childhood we call it, wondering at the oblivion which, like a thin veil, has fallen between them and what- ever can hurt and annoy. If we are tenderly loving we never lose patience over their mistakes, their lapses of memory, their heedlessness of what Oj^ going on about them now. They are only ~ back with the children in the dear and peaceful dinna chide the mither ! Ye may na hae her lang ; er voice, abune your baby rest, Sae saftly crooned the sang ; She thocht ye ne'er a burden, She greeted ye wi' joy, art an' hand in carin' ye, n' still their dear employ. ^*^s cunnin', It's tremblin' now and slow, ut her he^t is l^ an' lovin', \s it was lang ago ! ugh her strength may witherj faint her pulses beat. [474] The Old Folk at Home Nane will be like the mither, Sae steadfast, true, an' sweet 1 Ye maun revere the mither, Feeble an' auld an' gray ; The shinin' ones are helpin' her Adoon her evenin' way ! Her bairns wha wait her yonder, Her gude mon gone before ; She wearies — can ye wonder? — To win to that braw shore ! Ah ! dinna chide the mither! O lip, be slow to say A word to vex the gentle heart Wha watched your childhood's day ; Ay, rin to heed the tender voice Wha crooned the cradle sang, An' dinna chide the mither, sin' Ye may na hae her lang. ^ Into that pleasant land of Lethe, no one want^ to drift too soon. The way to keep young, ;^^ twofold. So far as one may, one should be ^fc-' ; rounded by young people, and remain intere^eov in their pursuits. Mental and bodily powers -fail fastest when unused. Women and men, wlit> ignore the ravages of time, and keep^ straight o| in their accustomed duties, mayvdie^>^i^»eii [475] :^ 9 I but they will have no dreary interval first of^ being laid aside. A man, eighty-seven years old, sits at his desk in a certain publishing house, bringing to bear on the day's work the trained powers of a life- time. I saw him not long ago ; noted that there was no failure of intellect, that the body was as yet the loyal servant of the brain. A life of health, of clean living, of sound common sense and Christian faith has brought ripeness in old age, but not infirmity. A woman, past her ninetieth year, dwells in the mansion to which she came, a bride in her golden youth. She goes about the house as she chooses, reads, receives her friends, attends church in good weather. On Sundays, in the twilight, her children and grandchildren assemble in her home, as their custom has been, without interruption, for many consecutive years, and they have family prayers around the mother. < . fit is often noted that people keep on in apparent 'ength a long time, and then, under a sudden k, or the weight of a great sorrow, they lose qC g^l^C^itality has few reserves to draw upona dEi^^S^sical capital is almost exhausted [476] On the whole, the old folk are happiest who live on to the end, and then, in a moment, fall on sleep, and are at home with God. In Bunyan's incomparable story of " Christiana and Her Children," we read how, at the last, the pilgrims entered a Beulah land. " In this place the children of the town would go into the king's gardens, and gather nosegays for the pilgrims, and bring them to them with much affection. Here, also, grew camphire, with spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with all chief spices. With these the pil- grims' chambers were perfumed while they stayed here; and with these were their bodies anointed, to prepare them to go over the river, when the time appointed was come " Now, while they lay here, and waited for tK good hour, there was a noise in the town th there was a post come from the Celestial Ci with matter of great importance to one Chris, tiana, the wife of Christian, the pilgrim. So quiry was made for her. ^^ with a letter. The contents were " ' Hail, good woman ; I bring thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth that thou shouldst stand in his presence in clothes of immortality within these ten days.' " When he had read this letter to her, he gave therewith a sure token that he was a true >senger, and was come to bid her make haste be gone. The token was an arrow with the it sharpened with love, let easily into her irt, whichJlTy degrees, wrought so effectually !th her^^^t at the time appointed she must gone. et^hristiana saw that her time was come, tharsn^ was the first of this company to go verr she called -^for Mr. Great-Heart, her guide, and told him how matters were. So he told her he was heartily gl^^^^^j^news, and could have been glad had the'^^jV^t'^E^^ for him. Then she bid him that he should giv^^dvice how all things preparedj^iS^-her journey. So he told ^— ^ [478] .her, saying, ' Thus and thus it must be, and we ^r^ that survive will accompany you to the riverside.' " Then she called for her children, and gave them her blessing, and told them that she had read with comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sons and daughters to be ready against the messenger who should come for them. " Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. So the road was full of people to see her take her journey. But behold, all the banks beyond the river were full of horses and char- iots, which were come down from above to ac- company her to the city gate. So she came forth, and entered the river, with a beckon of farewej to those who followed her. The last words thi she was heard to say were, ' I come, Lord, be with thee and bless thee ! ' So her childrj and friends returned to their places, for the that waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sight. So she went an^^e^e<;U ^""^ ^^' tered in at the gate with all [479J joy that her husband, Christian, had entered before her. At her departure, the children wept. But Mr. Great-Heart and Mr. VaHant played upon the well-tuned cymbal and harp for joy. So all departed to their respective places." Home regnant here on earth, gathering to itself the fondest associations, melting at last into that home in heaven where they go no more out forever. Dearest word in our language, sweetest haven on earth, goal of the wayfarer, cheer of the desolate, home draws us with the cords of love. No malady is harder to bear than home- sickness. It saps the strength of men in their prime. It is a paralysis of will, a despair in the midst of activity. Through every vicissitude the thought of home is an inspiration, giving courage to the faint. we not prize, as the land's noblest heritage, les built on rectitude, shielded by fidelity, recrated by prayer, and ensphered by love ? [480] U Envoi FARTHER back than our great-great-grand- parents, our ancestors mean little to us ex- cept as shadowy figures growing ever more remote. The several tides that mingle in our blood, are traceable in the family genealogy, and we are unspeakably grateful if ours is a line that stain has never tarnished, and that has done yeo- man service in God's world, during the centuries. But as the generations recede, as the waves that breaking on the shore, roll back again and are merged in the vastness of the sea, we know little of those who went before us. Many homes meet in our single home. No past that was worth t\ name ever dies. The past is renewed in the pres^ ent. The future will repeat the present when it h become the past. In days yet to be, the childi of our children will read the story of our times and point with pride to some relic, a portrait^a piece of furniture, a curi^^ cup, o^/yasi clock ticking serenely The Little Kingdom of Hojue legacy from ourselves. We cannot realize that in J^j^ that day we shall be to them as our progenitors are to us. Just as the girl in her teens cannot comprehend the wistfulness with which her grand- mother regards her, nor measure the yearning in the tone in which she says, " I, too, was once like you, dear, as gay, as blooming, as full of hope; " just as the photographs in the old family album, taken fifty years ago, seem strangely unreal now, shall we be to those who will come after we \ gone. But their homes will be the offspring of ours, I the flower unfolds from the bud. In successive id undying^efflorescence, homes come forth Every home, as from a cell, sends rable other homes, and the homes of y will be multiplied a million-fold in 11 unborn. The currents of the world er, and a composite people, elimi- weakness and assimilating the es, shall yet dwell, iSrepublican America. " a day, which we may ight of eternity, when, re on earth, — " No one shall work for money, And no one shall work for fame, But each for the joy of the working." God Speed that coming da^I [483] ^,.. 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