POETRY. Page Helen Chase. "ANOTHER BABY." Kate M. Cleary. Bessie's Valentine Cakes. Lizzie M. Hadley. By the Ingle Glow. Mary Clark Huntington. Christmas Eve. Lillian Grey. Build Well Spare the Old Homestead, 129 Fugitive Verse, A Page of.— 273 Patience with the Living, What of That? 105 My Own Shall Come. II The Bronze Church Door, 164 The Rain Comes Sobbing to the Door, A Word About Words. 181 . Comforted, 222 When Wife's A-going Away, Hattie W. Daniel. My Grandmother. Mary L B. Branch, NATIVITY, The. E. B. Lowe. Nigh Unto Thanksgiving. E. H. Shannon. No Room for Children. Ella Lyle. Notwithstanding. James Buckham. 291 Land of the Beautiful Dead," November. Clara W. Bronson. November. Sarah E. Howard. 75 Fugitive Verse, A Page of.— 218 83 The Cruse that Faileth Not, After Harvest, Grandmother, The World's Good Women, Back to the Old Home. Beyond the Stars. November, In. E. B. Lowe. OLD IRON SCUTTLE, THE. Winfield Lyle. Old Letters. Helen N. Packard, Old Stone House, The. Ione L. Jones. Old Sugar Camp, The. Gay Davidson Old Turkey-Hen's Lament, The. G. W. Haight. Only Me!" Mrs. C. H. N. Thomas. O Welcome, Easter Morn! Annah Lear. 208 At Sunset. Phebe Bird, The. Phebe A. Holder. The Tints of Twenty Years, 210 Fate and Lace Work, House Cleaning, Apology for Women. A Dutch Lullaby, Our Children, Easter Bells. Helen Chase. Woman's Work, 299 The Coming of His Feet, Rest Cometh After All. QUEEN OF ALL, THE. William Brunton. Fugitive Verse, A Page of. My Ships, Home To-Night. The Baby I Love, Going Out and Coming In, Back to the Old Home Once More, ."Good Morning," Harvest Gladness. Hidden Wisdom. Lura Bell. Fugitive Verse, A Page of. His Best Girl. Susan Teall Perry. Christmas Bells, 98 Housekeeping Hint, A. Estelle Thomson. GIVE THANKS UNTO THE LORD. Warren. Golden Age, The. Paul Pastnor. Golden Memories. 74 Mrs. H. K. Potwin. Grandma's Christmas, Too. Mabel Potter Tall 122 How Julia Makes a Cake. C. H. Thayer. . IF WE COULD SEE. Edna Miller Sheldrake. "I Know a Bank." W. B. Cossitt. I Wait Content. J. A. A. JUST AFTER CHRISTMAS. Adelaide Preston. LULLABY. A. B. Ward. TELEGRAM, THE. K. L. G. H.. Thanksgiving Dish, A. Gay Davidson. Thanksgiving on the Farm. Mary Hume Don Thanksgiving Song, A. Helen Chase. 153 29 Snake in the Grass, The. Helen A. Manville. Spring's Harbinger. E. B. Lowe. Adelaide George Bennett. A FORTNIGHTLY JOURNAL. Conducted in the Interests of the Higher Life of the Household. Title Copyright 1884. Contents Copyright 1888. VOLUME 8, She's SPRINGFIELD, MASS., NOVEMBER 10, 1888. THE QUEEN OF ALL he's the soul of goodness; loved so well I as common flowers for her would choose, Perfect charms of form and face and dress;- Dream am Thearts would wish to try; Queen and best of all that I have Rnours, whose aid the world's rewald is won; WHOLE NO. 92. By You, my friend, may claim the same of course, For the one within Minds our needs, provides dumpiau board, Richer for han Big Plain her queen and best of all! your monarch's throne:" Lonored house, Seeing clear as I can see in mine, Lines of beauty, grace, and truth divine, "Worth and Splendor Rnown to you alone, gems of very well, this truth confessed, I see God so crowns each soul's felicity; tach possessing true and faithful wife, Finds heaven-sent Companionship for life, Finds the paradise men lost of yore. Wanders there in peace forevermore, Shut in bowers of bliss that cease to Rnow, How the Stormy winds of winter blow ! Yes, I say the & sovereigh gift must fall, Where the husband vows - "she's queen of all! William Brunton. Original in GOOD HOUSEKEEPING. HOUSEKEEPING IN AND AMONG THE PLANETS. THE MAN IN THE MOON AT HOME. What He Has to Say About GOOD HOUSEKEEPING in Its Chosen Field in the Homes of the World, and also of Good and Poor Housekeeping Everywhere. CHAPTER IX. Y modest residence stands in a thickly settled part of the town, where the houses are, indeed, detached but where the land is so valuable that the unoccupied space between the houses is in most cases less than the area covered by the houses themselves; a common state of affairs in the suburbs of cities and in large towns, but none the less deplorable and in these days of rapid transit wholly inexcusable. After reading Mr. Moon's description of the way their houses are built, not because land is dear but on general principles of comfort and economy, it occurred to me that we tion the vociferous lamentations of the children under chastisement and the occasional controversies more animated than elegant, that are liable to occur in the best-regulated families. As a matter of actual location, when we sit on our own southwest piazza, we are quite as near the sitting-room and nursery of Mr. Smith, who lives next door west of us, as we are to our own. If the piazza was on the opposite corner we should be just as near to our neighbor at the east. By climbing to the top of the house we can occupy the very center of the lot and thus be at the greatest possible distance from them at either side. Moreover, in warm weather it is exceedingly desirable to catch the evening breeze, if there is one, and as the wind does not usually blow from more than one direction at a time, and as there are at least four sides to the house, there is but one chance in four that the piazza, if there is but one, will be on the windward side. The house-top is, therefore, the one place where we are sure of a breeze at all times. Acting from these premises, I have made an out-ofdoor sitting-room on the roof. Here are our hammocks, our easy chairs and lounges. There are awnings, of course, to keep off the sun and rain, screens to temper the wind when it is too lively, and all around the edges are boxes of flowers and creeping things that give us quite a Hanging-garden-ofBabylon appearance. In pleasant weather we spend much of "THE SKY PARLOR." our time here during the day as well as in the evening. Our neighbors have not yet followed our example, and for that reason when we are - in the sky-parlor we are to all intents and pur poses quite out of town. If we choose, which is not often the case, we can look down upon our fellow-citizens to some extent, but they cannot return our observation unless they crawl out of the scuttle or chimney-pots. Of late my correspondence with the moon has been carried on chiefly from this elevated station. I find the seclusion rather agreeable, there being less danger of interruption by curious or accidental callers. On the evening of the third of July my wife and I were sitting in the twilight enjoying the mild, summer-evening air, sometimes turning our attention to the profound silence in the moonlit sky above us and anon to the softened but neverceasing murmur of the street, when all at once my wife exclaimed, "Ah! see that brilliant meteor!" followed the direction of her gesture and saw indeed a wonderful appearance in the sky, that seemed at first nothing else than a shooting star, but its motion was not steady. In fact it seemed to move more and more slowly and at last to stand quite still. At the same time it was increasing in size. I at once conjectured that whatever it might be, it was approaching directly toward us. Everyone knows how impossible it is to judge of the distance of a light at night. The shining spark may be a firefly on the window pane, a lighthouse miles away at sea, or a fixed star in the immeasurable firmament. My conjecture that the light was steadily approaching us in a right line was speedily confirmed by the coming into view of a dark shadow that seemed to accompany it, which also appeared to increase in size and very soon took on definite form and proportions. In less time than it takes me to write it, this moving body had noiselessly come into our very presence and rested upon the roof beside us. It was an almost exact counterpart of the missiles that had brought us from time to time the gossamer scrolls on which the lunar messages had been written, and we arose in some trepidation thinking that if the explosion was in proportion to its size we should have extraordinary Fourth of July fireworks somewhat in anticipation of the day. "NOT A LUNAR MOTH." Instead of the explosion and subsequent dissolution into a cloud of vapor, the side of the long, black cylinder opened like a huge chrysalis and there stepped forth, not a lunar moth, but two of the quaintest, daintiest little specimens of humanity imaginable. It could not for a moment be doubted that they belonged to the same order of created beings as ourselves, in spite of their diminutive stature, which was considerably less than half that to which we are accustomed. Their manner was entirely self-possessed, courteous and graceful, without a trace of that peculiar consciousness that commonly appears in dwarfs and other people of abnormal appearance. "This is my wife, and I am Mr. Moon," said the gentleman with great dignity. "I presume you were expecting us, as I wrote that we would try to spend the Fourth with you if agreeable." If there is one thing on which, more than another, I pride myself as a philosopher, it is on my ability to appear at ease in society. I immediately greeted Mrs. Moon in my most cordial manner, presented her and her husband to my wife, and assured them that we had been expecting them with the greatest eagerness and should have been grievously disappointed if they had not come; and then, by way of putting them quite at their ease, I remarked that it was a pleasant evening for this time of year and hoped they had had a pleasant journey. This easy familiarity of mine was in striking contrast to the conduct of my wife, who remained dumb with amazement, evidently at her wits' end to know what to think or say or do. It was indeed true that Mr. Moon had written that they would spend the Fourth with us, but she had settled it in her own mind that the whole thing was a delusion and a snare, and, influenced by her skepticism, I had begun to think the proposed visit was a sort of joke on the part of our friend. Still, as it must appear, nothing is farther from my habit than to own myself surprised and I treated our visitors precisely as if we had been in the habit of receiving calls from the inhabitants of the heavenly bodies from our youth up, my wife, meanwhile, staring in petrified amazement. Seeing her discomfiture, Mrs. Moon approached her in the most gracious manner and said, "I see, my dear, that our arrival is a surprise to you, but I hope not a disagreeable one. I am confident you will soon be able to look upon it as a simple affair, not in the least wonderful. Do you remember how strange the telephone seemed the first time you listened to its far-off voice? Now you think no more of it than of common conversation. Come and look at our carriage. When you have seen how easily we came you will only wonder why we did not come before." My wife, still speechless, arose mechanically and followed Mrs. Moon across to where the car stood, and remarking in a nonchalant way that it would be rather new to me also, I expressed a willingness to inspect it with them. It really was a simple affair. The electrical apparatus that had propelled it was precisely similar in principle to that which I had used in my electric gun. The cylinder, which appeared black and opaque, was in reality transparent from the interior and was just large enough to hold its occupants comfortably. When closed it was evidently hermetically sealed. "When did you leave home?" I inquired. "Last evening at this time; we have been just twenty-four hours on the way." "But how do you manage to live for that length of time in an air-tight case?" "Oh, that is very simple. At one end of the car is a supply of condensed air and at the other a condensor. As fast as the atmosphere is vitiated by respiration it is removed by the condensor and fresh air is released from the reservoir. This keeps the air in our car in its natural purity and at the same pressure to which we are accustomed. This contrivance has long been in use with us, not only for navigation in space where unaided respiration would be impossible, but for submarine explorations and for penetrating into mines, caverns, volcanic craters and other places where the air is for any cause unfit for breathing. It is in effect a portable automatic ventilation. "I am sorry your wife had so little faith in us," he continued as we returned to our seats; "but I saw that the only way to convince her that we could come was to come, and now, although you must not expect me to be greatly surprised at what I see, because in a way I have seen it all before, I am still anxious to have a near view of many things that have interested me greatly as seen from a distance. With all our facilities for learning about your affairs, there is nothing so satisfactory as actual personal inspection with one's own eyes. And as for yourselves, why, everybody knows that we cannot become really acquainted with our fellow-beings until we have been in their actual presence, within the influence of their personal magnetism. Already I feel much better acquainted with you than I did ten minutes ago. I see you are somewhat surprised," he continued, smiling, "to find us so much less in physical stature than yourselves." This remark mortified me extremely for I have always maintained that we ought not to wound the feelings of our fellow-creatures by seeming to notice any infirmity by which they are afflicted; but as the substance of this thought passed through my mind, he caught it in the most wonderful manner and continued pleasantly: "Our diminutive size is not an infirmity. Abstractly considered I am just as large as you are; all dimensions are relative, and especially in intellectual beings is it impossible to fix any absolute standard of size. Physical health is, of course, a grand consideration, but muscular strength or corporal size is a matter of the least possible importance. Your Brooklyn bridge could have been built as well by men three, four or five feet tall as by men of six. Your greatest physical achievements are not the result of muscular power of individuals, but of brain power. Even your absurd and wicked battles, the only place where mere bodily strength is held to be of any consequence, are won, if won at all, by brains rather then by brawn. Oh, no; large bodies are of no benefit to a race. Of course the largest individuals in a community have a certain advantage over their smaller brothers but an increase in the average physical stature of a race cannot be considered an improvement, rather the reverse. It takes less to clothe, feed and provide shelter for small people than for large ones, and as the size of the earth is limited, it is evident that the smaller the inhabitants, the greater will be the inheritance of each, and, as I have said, a race of giants would accomplish no greater material results than have been achieved by the smallest races of civilized men. When you look at us aright," he concluded, "you will see that we are no smaller than you are." From one of our own neighbors this would have seemed like a special plea for himself, but it was advanced by Mr. Moon in such a philosophical and dignified way that it sounded simply like the candid statement of an obvious truth. Queerly enough, after a brief acquaintance with them it never occurred either to my wife or myself that our visitors were in any respect different from ourselves. Perhaps I should except their singular ability to read and answer our unspoken thoughts as readily as those to which we gave audible utterAt first this was somewhat embarrassing, for I believe we are all liable at times to indulge in thoughts about the people with whom we are conversing that do not enter into our audible conversation and which would be liable to create some confusion if they did. Still, I am about convinced that it would be better if we all possessed this gift of mind reading. I do not see how the result could be other than a habit ance. |