THE WOMEN FOLKS. BY MRS. MARY MARTIN, Bethel. Pa. A few years ago at a farmers' meeting not very far from here one of the speakers said, "O yes we must not forget the women folks. The women are somewhat of a factor in the business of farming." He thought he had expressed an advanced idea and perhaps it was at that time, but the women were not quite satisfied. The farmers' however, as the years pass by, are, with the rest of mankind, growing more and more enlightened and nowadays this sentiment is more strongly expressed. In the Farm Journal we read: "The first need of the successful farmer is a good wife." "A good wife is better than, gold," and many other such complimentary notices. Neither are these mere words of courtesy. They have the ring of the genuine. They are simply acknowledged truths. In our own country, at least, woman is fast becoming appreciated. She writes for the agricultural papers and has a voice in the institutes. This is not so marked in other countries. A German correspondent in a late Farm Journal says: "Nearly all the harvesting and much of the heavy farming is done by the women. They are yolked to carts and draw the produce about the streets. They saw wood and break stones upon the road. But in beautiful America the spirit of freedom which reigns forbids any approach to the slavery of woman." Now our own country is certainly beginning to lead the world, and our women must awake to the possibilities of their position and prepare to properly use the power which is fast becoming theirs. This is an age of great progress and the farmer is keeping pace with the rest. The proceedings of this institute are a manifest proof of the advancing condition of his calling. There was a time when the farmer was considered a sort of boor. They pictured him as ungainly and awkward, long hair and unkempt beard, trousers hung by one suspender and cowhide boots run down at the heel. Now witness the change. In his picture on the machinery advertisements, all duly shaven and shorn, he wears gauntlet gloves, pink shirt waist and rainbow necktie, and drives a prancing team in the latest "very best in the world" mowing machine. Small things like this show the drift of public opinion. There is no telling the height to which the farmer may attain. He is not striving for popularity or power, though the most independent man in the world. He goes straight forward minding his own business each year, marking another point in the progress of his calling. At the present time trusts are all the fashion. It must be admitted the farmer is usually a little behind in the fashion. But he does not propose to be tramped upon and when all other industries have a trust he will be forced to follow. Thinking minds are beginning to give this matter some attention. A paper of no less importance than the Saturday Evening Post in its last number gave its first pages to tell its readers not to be afraid of the "Raise of wheat movement in Kansas;" tried to prove it utterly impossible for the farmer to form a trust but failed to do so. Think of a worldwide agricultural combine. The millions of Andrew Carnegie or J. Pierpont Morgan would buy them nothing to eat if the farmer refused to sell. They could not even go gather checker-berries on the hillside, for upland glade and glen are all controlled by the farmer. Now my dear sisters, in view of this rising state of affairs, what is our part? What is our duty? The wife must keep pace with her husband. It seems an old song to say "woman's first place is home." But "Home, Sweet Home" is a song that never grows old. O, thou haven of rest and love, who could think it little to be thy queen. The wife and mother who thinks she is only an unappreciated drudge has missed her key-note. Something is wrong with herself. She had better go back and try to catch the chord. The seasons of peace, joy and love spent in the home strengthen the soul for the next conflict, and this is woman's work. It should be growing better with the passing years. It is to be regretted that many women do not properly lay the foundation of home. The corner-stone should be a strong, deep faith in the living God, the joy of the Lord for strength, ever seeking wisdom from on high. How can woman get through her maze of difficulties wihout it? To be sure it is the husband's part to erect God's altar and lead the household in this service. But how many men leave the things of religion to their wives. How often do we see a mother struggling in her weakness to draw her children on to heaven and a great strong father constantly pulling back on the rope. But if he fails she must not. Beside the management of home the farmer's wife has many other duties. She is her husband's helpmeet. Must always interest herself in his work. She is fortunately situated for this. His work is ever under her eye. She watches his progress from the first furrow turned by the plough to the last mark formed by the drill. She helps him to plan and to conjecture the weather. Oftener than any one suspects she is the "power behind the throne." She must train the children and supervise their education, care for the poultry, the calves and the garden. How will she ever compass it all. There is an old saying, "Promptness, patience, and perseverance, are the chief elements of success in all great undertakings. The farmer's wife will do well to use those three weapons. Promptly take hold of the difficult task. Do not wait to think about it. The sooner begun the sooner ended. Under the head of promptness comes early rising. Of course it is important to be up with the lark. It is more important to be down with the lark. A good day's work must be prepared by a good night's sleep. One-third of our time belongs to sleep; every hour stolen therefrom we pay for with physical energy. Nothing, except sickness, should ever keep us from sleep. Many households make much of the old maxim: "He that would thrive must rise at five." This is a mistake. Why not rise at an earlier hour and be more thrifty. The fallacy of the proverb is proven by the following lines: "He that would thrive must rise at five, He that would thrive more must rise at four, He that would still more thrifty be Must stir himself as early as three. He that would be more thrifty than all, Had better not go to bed at all." Patience. O, the worth of patience. How many unkind words we have said. How many heartaches we have endured only because we lost our patience. It is perhaps the virtue most difficult to obtain but it can be possessed and it brings a rich reward. "He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that taketh a city." Neither must you worry. It accomplishes nothing and each difficulty you worry over leaves you less strength to battle with the next. And don't scold. It does seem hard sometimes to help it, but there is no grace about it and you are sure to be misunderstood. However, there is one thing in this connection that ought to be noticed. Do you know a woman who is a habitual scold? Look around there and you will see a trifling, shiftless, easy-going, not to say lazy sort of a man. The woman is to be pitied. We ought to even at the risk of being unpopular, speak a good word for poor Xantippe the scolding wife of Socrates. We know that Socrates was a great philosopher but history is silent regarding many of his other traits. We are not told of his natural ability to provide for his family or keep the wolf from the door. It is probably due to Xantippe that his faults are unknown to the world. By dint of scolding she kept his from practicing them. He never spit tobacco on the fender, or piled his felt boots before the sitting-room fire. Possibly things went on at the Socrates home something like this: It is a fine morning in spring. Xantippe wants the garden ploughed. She knows it is just the time it ought to be done. She just has to scold and finally gets him to set about it. Just as he starts out to hitch up, neighbor Jones whose work it is to take the milk to the creamery, drives up. Socrates goes out, dumps the milk cans into the wagon, leans back against the platform and neighbor Jones drops his lines. They are comfortably fixed for a half hour chat. Watchful Xantippe at this season of the year regards every moment as precious. What does she do. Does she open a little crack in the door and cough or whistle all unheeded by Socrates? No, she steps out boldly on to the back porch and says, "Now see here Socrates, if we're going to get those peas and onions and other things in to-day you've got to be moving round." Neighbor Jones quickly takes up his lines, rattles on to the next place, and tells the folks there, "If I had that wife of Socrates' I'd just thrash her." Then early in June when Socrates' crops are coming on nicely and his table is crowned with early vegetables all the neighbors look wise and say, “What a forehanded, up-to-time man that Socrates is, if it only wasn't for his awful wife." So you see you get no credit when you scold. There are better ways to accomplish the same results. Use tact. Be patient and keep sweet. Meet your husband with a smile. Now to perseverance we need only give a passing notice, for the farmer's wife is something like the churn dog, she has no alternative but to persevere. But never grow discouraged. If one day is a failure rise on its ruins in better position to reach success on the next. This paper is already too long, there are many, many other things which must be attended to by the successful farmer's wife. She must attend to her social duties. Must be ready to entertain and always be prepared for the unexpected visitor. She must take great pains with her personal appearance. Consult the monthly fashion plates and keep up with the styles. Yet she must be economical and be able to "gae auld cla's look amaist as weel the new." She must read the papers and keep herself posted on current events. She must not say "I don't know anything about politics." She ought to know she cannot vote but she can influence and she can lift up her voice for purity. By all means she must read the agricultural literature. Keep up on farm topics so as to be her husband's counselor and be ready to write a comprehensive, scholarly paper for the farmer's institute when it strikes her neighborhood. Time fails to tell it all. But courage, dear sisters. Wisdom and strength will be provided. Your work is a great one. Just keep on ever bearing in mind, "The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world." HOME, AND THE ESSENTIALS TO ITS HAPPINESS. BY MRS. BERYL MEYERS SMITH, Oakville, Pa. The subject assigned me for discussion is one of so vast and superior importance that I feel myself inadequate to grapple with it. However, I shall endeavor to meekly define that little word, home. What word in the universe claims wider meaning, fixes deeper influence, conveys more thought, covers more feelings than this little word, of Anglo-Saxon origin, H-O-M-E. Home is not merely four square walls, the interior of which may be handsomely decorated or plainly arranged. 'Tis not the size of palace nor cottage, but'tis the congeniality existing inside those walls that makes the home. Let me more fittingly define this little word, Home, by the words of our poet Chas. Swain: "Home's not merely four square walls, Though with pictures hung and gilded; Filled with shrines the heart had builded. Home! go watch the faithful dove, Home is where there's one to love; Home is where there's one to love us. "Home's not merely roof and room, It needs something to endear it; Where there's some kind lip to cheer it. What is home with none to meet, None to welcome, none to greet us? Home is sweet, and only sweet Where there's one we love to meet us." Among the most important essentials to make home happy are love, order and punctuality. LOVE. The first requisite, love, covers such a large area of itself that if once fully and firmly established in the home, all other essentials will follow in their perfect sphere. That love may fittingly exist in the home, I deem it necessary that every home should have, as its example, a Christian father and a Christian mother; for love cannot exist without Christ, as 'twas through His teachings that love found itself in this life. |