Iss was gar ist,
Trink’ was klar ist,
Sprich was wahr ist.
—_German Dining Room Motto._
The central work-room of the house is the kitchen. There labor is
continuous. There three times a day, year in and year out, the meals
must be cooked, and the pots and pans washed. Slovenly work there tells
all over the house. An ill-regulated kitchen involves poor cookery and
waste, and cheapens the most artistically arranged dining room. But the
importance of good, careful and intelligent cookery hardly comes within
the limits of this article.
It behooves us, however, to insist upon it that the room where so much
of the necessary work of home is carried on, should be airy, sunny,
cheerful, well stocked with the implements essential to the lightening of
kitchen labor, and adapted in every way to the comfort of its occupants.
A good farmer supplies himself with tools and machines for his farm work;
but his wife often toils with cracked stove, green wood, and a scant
supply of kettles and pans, when only a slight outlay would save her many
weary steps and much worry of mind.
The kitchen should have painted walls that can be readily washed. Indeed,
every surface in the room should be washable. There should be plenty
of closet room, a large sink, a large work-table, comfortable chairs,
at least one easy chair, a shelf for books, and room in the window for
a few plants if desired. A picture or two would not be out of place if
protected by glass, nor an occasional motto—like the charge to the German
cook:
“Köchin, denk’ an deine Pflicht,
Vergiss du heut’ das Salz ja nicht.”
Or the admirable rules for home living which Dr. Watts wrote for children:
“I’ll not willingly offend
Nor be easily offended;
What is ill I’ll strive to mend,
And endure what can’t be mended.”
There are many small houses where either kitchen or sitting-room has to
serve also as dining room. Any sensible woman can make shift to get along
comfortably in this way and eat her bread and honey with the queen in the
kitchen when necessity compels, so long as she has neatness and despatch
for hand-maidens. One large, light room is often far better than two
small dark ones; but where a room does double duty there can hardly be
unity in the arrangement and furnishing.
To my question, “What is of most importance in the dining room?” a
man made answer, “the kitchen,” and a woman, “the outlook.” No doubt
the provision of wholesome and abundant food for her family is the
housewife’s first duty, but while fully endorsing the masculine paradox,
we must not ignore the woman’s plea for a cheerful outlook.
If possible, the dining room should have as good a view as the house
affords. Let it look out on the orchard, the sea shore, or the distant
hills, rather than the stable or the clothes line. The view of a
terraced, box-bordered garden, of a tulip bed and apple blooms, as seen
from an old-fashioned country house dining room is one of the sweet
memories which childhood has stored up for the enrichment of my coming
years. Three times a day the household gathers here to take the goods
the gods provide them, and then, if ever, they should enjoy a little
leisure, and be in the mood to appreciate the best of the out-of-door
world that surrounds them. A good view is better than pictures or
stained glass for a dining room; but when a good view is out of reach
and an unsightly one is unavoidable, then stained glass comes to our
aid. If that darkens the room too much, ground or cathedral glass panes
can transmit the light, surrounded by a border of color. That would be
over-leaping the obstacle; but it can be quietly set aside by means
of a pretty sash or half-sash curtain of Madras muslin or any pretty,
thin, colored curtain material. A curtain is a simpler, franker,
and consequently better solution of this difficulty than any of the
pasted-on, semi-translucent, paper cheats that simulate stained glass
“In faint disguises that could ne’er disguise.”
Let honest poverty hold up his head and hang up a width or two of ten
penny Turkey-red calico by the aid of button rings and a brass wire,
so that it can be drawn across the lower sash, and if the color be in
keeping with the room, it will look better than anything more pretentious
and less true. Good stained glass, such as Mr. Tiffany or Mr. La Farge
devise, is very beautiful, but like Adolphus’s tea-pot, it has to be
lived up to throughout the room, and so is more expensive than in its
first cost. The fine view, however, involves no extra outlay, and beside
adding good cheer to that which the housewife spreads upon her board, it
is no inconsiderable factor in the table-talk of the year, helping not a
little in the entertainment of guests.
The dining room should also be conveniently near the kitchen, either in
point of fact, or made practically near in the case of a basement kitchen
by a “lift” or dumb waiter. The kitchen should not open directly into the
room, or all the kitchen odors will abide there. An intermediate pantry
or entry way shuts off many of the smells of cooking, and a small slide
through which dishes can be passed serves to the same end, as it obviates
the necessity of keeping the door ajar while food is carried back and
forth.
How to light the dining room is a question of some importance. There
should be light enough to show the table to advantage, but it should be
possible to darken the room with shutters or blinds in the inevitable
summer warfare with flies. A room looks better, artistically, where the
light enters from but one side. Cross lights are the artist’s abhorrence.
In city houses a conservatory built out on one side gives a pleasant
suggestion of the woods and out-of-doors, and at the same time gives
the right effect of light and shade to the room. Kerosene lamps are not
ornaments to the dining or tea table. They are cumbersome, malodorous,
and their room is better than their company. A chandelier over the table,
burning gas or holding lamps, is the easiest and cheapest arrangement,
but not the most picturesque. The prettiest light of all, and probably
the most expensive, as the prettiest things are apt to be, is given by
wax candles from tall candlesticks. Four of these judiciously arranged on
the table will give an abundance of light for those seated about it, if
additional light be provided for the rest of the room by a lamp on the
sideboard or in side sconces.
A dining room should not be too warm. It is an old boarding house trick
to so heat the dining room as to take away all appetite for food. The
room should, in fact, be kept a little cooler than the rest of the
house, partly because the lower temperature provokes appetite, and in
part because on leaving the table it is natural to feel a sensation of
chilliness, the blood of the body being called aside to the business of
digestion, so that it is comfortable after eating to step into a room a
few degrees warmer than that in which one has been seated.
The color of the dining room depends upon its size, exposure, and upon
whether it must do double duty as sitting room, or library. Dark, rich
furniture and wall-hangings have been the rule for dining rooms for
many a year. The larger the room, the more elaborate, rich and dark can
be the furnishing, but a dark room that hardly gets a glimpse of sun
throughout the year must be made sunny by plenty of yellow in woodwork,
or walls; bright, sunny pictures with gilt frames; and by the glitter of
brass or of the pretty, yellow English ware with which the china shops
are aglow this year. For rich wall effects Japanese or leather paper is
good, Lincrusta better, the latter being a comparatively new material,
in substance something like linoleum, washable and very durable (so the
manufacturers assert), having figures raised upon it, and coming in good
designs and colors. With elaborately decorated walls, plain curtains
are called for. Where the walls are to be furnished freely with oil
paintings, let the pictures supply the decoration, and let the walls be
as unobtrusive as possible—only ensuring that they are of a good back
ground color; sage, olive-green, olive-brown, or dull red, in paint or
paper.
Family portraits, if good, are not out of place in the dining room;
but poor, old photographs in bungling, black walnut frames should be
preserved in the private apartments of those who value them. They are
never decorative; nor are pictures popularly known as dining room
pictures much more pleasing. The effigy of a silver salver of leaden hue
loaded with fruits of all climes, with a decanter of wine and a half
empty glass, of fishes hanging by their gills, or dead ducks, each from
one web-footed leg, is not nearly so attractive as a good portrait,
landscape, _genre_ picture or flower painting, however good practice the
manufacture of such studies may be in the art schools. I know a dining
room where, outrivaling some amateurish fruit painting, an engraving
after Rosa Bonheur of a shepherdess with her sheep has been a daily
delight for years, and another where the only picture space in the room,
that directly over the mantel shelf (the walls being darkly paneled), is
filled with a water color copy of Sir Joshua’s “Angel Choir” that seems
fairly to light and hallow the air around it, like the glories round the
heads of saints.
An over-mantel is appropriate in the dining room if anywhere, as it
affords shelf room for choice china or glass that ought to be seen. A
little ingenuity can go a great way in dressing up a commonplace shelf
so that it shall have dignity and importance. I have known one to have
a very aristocratic air which was only an adaptation of part of a
four-post bedstead, graceful, slender posts standing on either side of
the fireplace, built up with shelves of varying width and length.
If books in every room are a prime necessity, as our model home-maker
assures us, then there should be at least one book-shelf in each room.
“Pray what is that book-shelf for?” asks the visitor while seated at the
dinner table in “The Poet’s House,” which Mr. Scudder has described for
us. “Books of reference,” said Stillwell, promptly. “It’s extraordinary
how many little questions come up for discussion at the table, questions
of dates, of names, of quotations. So I keep a dictionary, a book
of dates, a brief biographical dictionary, a dictionary of poetical
quotations, and one or two other such books at hand. It is the sideboard
to our mental feast. We don’t keep everything we possibly need on the
table itself.” And others beside poets would find such a shelf of great
convenience.
There should be at least a square of carpet in the dining room under the
table, not only for warmth and the look of comfort, but to prevent the
noise of chairs scraping over the bare floor. In other rooms small rugs
scattered here and there may suffice, though one large rug is always more
restful to the eye, but a table around which a family gathers, either in
dining or sitting room should for these obvious reasons always stand
upon carpet. Where the floor is carpeted throughout and a crumb-cloth or
drugget used, pains should be taken in the selection of the latter to get
the colors in harmony with those of the carpet. Cheap druggets as a rule
are so glaring and crude in color that any carpet that respects itself
loses tone at once, and appears thoroughly commonplace when forced into
association with the blowzy things. The patient seeker, however, may be
rewarded in his search by finding a “Bocking” or drugget that shall be
as thoroughly becoming to his carpet as is the tidy morning apron to
the neat-handed Phyllis who wears it. Since the days of King Arthur the
round table has been held the most delightful for social and hospitable
purposes. With a small family there is a cosiness about a round table
that is very charming, but when one is forced to enlarge the circle a
small, round table can not be expanded to the required circumference. A
solid table seven feet long and four feet wide will seat six comfortably,
and eight without crowding, and is of delightful dimensions to sit about
of an evening, when work or study is toward. If such a table be used (an
Eastlake table, our furniture dealers would call it, since Mr. Eastlake
inveighed so severely against what he styled the “telescope” table) there
should be two side tables made four feet long which could be of service
in the room, standing against the wall, but on occasion could be used to
enlarge the dining table. H. J. Cooper, an authority on house-furnishing,
after speaking of Mr. Eastlake’s objections and suggestions, says:
“We do not find, however, any great revolution in the matter of expanding
dining tables, and are inclined to think their great convenience will
prove a barrier to any wide-spread reform.”
A good table should be polished, not varnished, and protected when not in
use by a substantial cover.
Side tables are serviceable when one’s space or purse will not allow of
a sideboard, but sideboards are useful articles of furniture, and look
better when made of the same wood as table and chairs. They should be
simple of construction, with straight rather than curved lines, smooth
surfaces, and with drawers easily get-at-able and lightly pull-out-able.
The sideboard should hold the table linen for daily use, the daily silver
and cutlery, teacups and saucers. If, in addition, it can find room for a
convenient box of biscuits, pot of ginger, or any simple refreshment for
the late worker who likes a bite before going to bed, so much the better
will it serve its purpose as a sideboard. Our grandmothers kept here
decanters and wine glasses, but in these days of the W. C. T. U. wine is
seldom found standing out boldly in sight in the dining room. In addition
to the sideboard a small table or a butler’s tray should be ready to hand
to hold dishes or food that must be used in the table service.
Cabinets for the display of china, closets let into the chimney for the
safe keeping of nice glass, should feel themselves at home here, while
plaques and old china plates seem to belong of right to the dining room,
and can be arranged over doors by means of a tiny balustrade, or on the
frieze, or as over-mantel decorations, while choice cups and saucers can
fill the cabinet spaces. In the breakfast room, where I am now writing
(not my own), I have just counted fifty-nine pieces of glass or pottery
which hang on the wall or stand exposed on sideboard, mantel or shelves,
besides the tiles of the fireplace, two small cabinets, each holding
a half dozen rare and precious Japanese cups and saucers protected by
glass, and two large cabinets filled to overflowing with specimen china,
and yet the room does not seem at all overstocked with ceramic treasures.
Growing plants are charming dining room ornaments, but will only thrive
where a minimum of gas and furnace heat and a maximum of sunshine and
fresh air is supplied, with regular attention as to water and shower
baths. They are sure, however, to reward painstaking care.
Decorative china and plants, however, are luxuries, though less or more
within the reach of all. A screen, though usually looked upon as a
luxury, is in the dining room almost a necessity, and it can be bought or
manufactured at home for a nominal sum. Many a guest has been well nigh
martyred at table with a fire in the rear and sunlight to the fore, whose
meals might have been made a delight by a careful adjustment of shades
and blinds and the judicious intervention of a screen between chair and
grate. Doors must needs be left open as servants pass back and forth, and
a screen between the mistress’s chair and the door may save her from many
an annoying influenza.
A thick, white cloth of felt or Canton flannel should be spread over the
table before it is “set.” This not only protects the polish of the table
top, but makes the linen cloth lie much better, and appear to the best
advantage.
Table linen should, so far as possible, be spotless. Fine damask is
costly, but a clean, coarse cloth looks better than a fine one soiled and
tumbled. It is true that table linen is worn more by washing than by use.
Still it must be washed—at least that is the American theory. I have sat
at a table in Saxony where the table linen bore the date of more than
a century before, but there the wash was perhaps a semi-annual affair,
and a breakfast cloth was made to serve from Easter till July, breakfast
being only a simple meal of a roll and a cup of coffee.
We can lay down no further rule for the changing of table linen. It is
perhaps better to keep breakfast and dinner cloths separate, the finer
for dinner, that being the more formal meal; tea and luncheon can be
served, if one wishes, without table cloth. If care be taken to lay a
carving cloth or napkin under the meat platter, or a tea cloth where tea
or coffee are to be poured, breakfast and dinner cloths can be kept fresh
longer.
Some writers more nice than wise sneer at napkin rings, implying that
no table linen should be used more than once without washing. But there
are few families of any size that can afford such lavish laundry work.
A family of six would require twenty-one dozen napkins in constant use,
if given out fresh each meal. When the same napkin must serve for more
than one meal, a napkin ring is the simplest and surest way of securing
each person his own. Of course rings are only for family use, not for the
transient guest, and they would be out of place at a dinner party.
Table cloths should be done up with a suspicion of starch, not enough to
stiffen them, but with only so much as will make them iron well. Heavy
linen looks and wears better than light. Large napkins are for dinner
use. Delicate doilies of fine drawn linen work or silk embroidery are
laid under finger bowls to protect the choice china plates on which the
bowls rest. This doily should be laid to one side with the bowl, it
should not be used as a fruit doily. I have seen an absent minded man
roll up in a crumpled heap one of these delicate lace affairs costing
five dollars, perhaps, and then carelessly wipe hands and moustache with
it, while the mistress of the house looked on with an assumed placidity
which spoke volumes for her powers of self-control.
The finger bowl is not an elegant affectation, but is a genuine comfort
where fruit or sweets are served. Fruit napkins should be used to save
large damask ones from stains.
If the first requirement for a well ordered table is cleanliness in
damask and dishes, the second is tidiness and regularity of arrangement.
If mats are placed under hot dishes let them lie on the square, and let
the plates be put on at regular intervals, and in a straight line. A
hotel waiter who flings plates and plated ware at the table by a dextrous
twirl of the wrist is no model for the home table setter. Spoons for soup
and dessert should lie to the right of the plate, knives above, forks
to the left; this is the time honored usage, and it makes the labor of
serving dessert easier if all knives, spoons and forks to be used during
the meal are laid at the first by each plate. Tumblers stand to the right
a little above the plate, butter-plates in a corresponding position to
the left. Avoid the use of what are popularly known as “individual”
dishes upon the table, such as butter plates, salt cellars, sauce plates,
and so forth. This is another hotel fashion that should not find its way
into the home. It is better to use a larger plate and take a greater
variety of food upon it. The little butter dishes are really needed
only with warmed plates; and beans, peas, corn, and other vegetables in
separate dishes, about a dining plate, make a table look very untidy,
and make extra and unnecessary work for the dishwasher. An English lady
who visited me a year ago took home to London with her as an American
curiosity a set of butter plates which, so she writes, she has not yet
found opportunity to use, not having had any American visitors.
Steel knives are better, and where meats are to be served are more
desirable in every way than plated ones, the latter being a device to
save the labor of “scouring” with Bristol brick.
Flowers or fruit are never out of place upon the dining room table; a
showy _épergne_ is not necessary, for a pretty growing plant always makes
a good center piece, and a single rose in a slender glass adds flavor to
the best cooked meal. My grandmother of blessed memory used to say that
the simpler the meal the more pains should be taken to serve it daintily.
Broiled salt pork and baked potatoes, according to her theory, could be
so bravely set out upon the table as to make a meal fit for gods and men.
A parsley bed is of special service in decking out a simple dinner, and
celery tops are not to be despised.
The heads of the household should face each other from the ends and
not the sides of the table, if the meals are served English fashion,
vegetables and meat being placed upon the table. No table can be set
with any air of elegance when the meat platter or the tea equipage stand
in the middle of one side. It makes comparatively little difference,
however, when meals are served _à la Russe_, that is with meats and
vegetables placed at side tables and passed by servants, while only
fruit, bon-bons and ornamental dishes appear upon the board. The latter
fashion seems to be obtaining in America, and an intelligent diner-out
remarked in my hearing the other day, that fifty years hence no meats at
all would be carved at table. This Russian fashion is pretty and wholly
luxurious, as it removes all possible demands for service or helpfulness
from those seated at table, and devolves it all upon servants. The
fashion requires more and better trained servants than most of us have at
command.
The bane of modern entertainments is the enormous number of courses
that style makes essential. Women with but one or two servants at the
most feel called upon to give luncheon or dinner parties, and course
follows course, many of them sent away scarce tasted, and the home
silver and china not sufficing for the occasion, must be eked out by
borrowing or by expeditious washings between the courses. The giving of
such entertainments by persons of moderate means exhausts nerves as well
as purse. Let us wisely give up aping rich people’s ways, and aim for
simplicity in our table service.
Colored table ware is cheerier upon the table than white. Very pretty
English or American sets can be obtained at low prices. The Canton china
(willow pattern) comes in good shapes, is of good color and standard
design, and single pieces can always be bought to replace what has been
broken, but
“Porcelain by being pure is apt to break,”
Or at least to chip at the edges, and for every-day use pretty crockery
is good enough unless a painstaking and cautious hand wields the
dish-mop. The more covered with decoration (design and color being good)
the prettier will be the effect of the ware when in use.
It is not at all necessary to have all the dishes upon the table of the
same style and pattern. Harlequin sets can often be brought together
so as to combine harmoniously, and pretty single pieces can be bought
marvelously cheap. Amateur painted china is generally too costly for
daily use, and when good should be treated with respect.
Plain silver is on the whole better for plain livers than that which is
more elaborately ornamented, and absolutely plain solid silver forks
and spoons can never be out of taste, and can easily be kept tidy with
whiting. Electro-silicon and patent cleaners of that ilk injure silver
and are ruinous to plated ware.
The beauty of silver and pottery depends first upon their form and
adaptation to use; secondly, upon their decoration. Delicate chasings
and thin _repoussé_ work are naturally as appropriate to silver as good
shapes and _flat_ decoration are to earthen ware.
As to glass, there is a crystal craze at present, and “hob-nail” glass
glitters on all tables. Miss Lucy Crane, in her lecture on “Form,” says
(and I quote freely because her words are timely):
“As the beauty of glass consists in its transparency and lightness, and
its capability of being twisted or blown or moulded into a multitude of
delicate forms, it early occurred to the manufacturing mind that if made
thick and solid, and cut into facets it would resemble crystal; and thus
it has come to be a fixed idea that hard glitter is its most valuable
quality, so it is made inches thick, and pounds heavy, to enhance its
brilliancy; and being one of the most fragile of substances, it must
be engraved with people’s crests and monograms as if it were intended
to carry down the name of the family for generations to come! Being of
its nature transparent, it must be rendered opaque of set intention by
coloring matter, and then painted and gilded! Since at its strongest
glass can never be anything but fragile, at least let it keep the beauty
belonging to fragility; since it is naturally transparent, let the light
be seen streaming through it, sometimes delicately tinted, sometimes
iridescent, and, instead of being cut, let it be blown and twisted into
the thousand delicate shapes to which it easily lends itself, and of
which in the Venetian glass of a bygone day, and in its present revival,
there are such delightful examples.”
I saw last evening a handful of flasks on their way to the laboratory,
whose soap bubble effects were far more beautiful than all the cold
glitter of all the “hob-nail” ware that Sandwich has ever produced.
In a boarding house it may economize labor to set the table over night,
but it is pleasanter and more homelike to have it set fresh and clean
with the morning light; beside, to have the dining table clear of an
evening is often a great family convenience.
The dining room affords grand opportunity for the domestic artist. The
bread board, bread and carving knife handles, salad fork and spoon,
all offer employment to the carver’s tool, to say nothing of cabinet,
sideboard and over-mantel. Tiles for tea pot rests and all sorts of
china call for the decorator’s skillful brush, while tea cloths and
coseys, doilies, mats, centerpieces and carving cloths all await the
embroiderer’s needle.
Arise, my young readers, and take your tools in hand, for home work is
the fairest adorning of the homelike house.
MEXICO.
Mexico is a country reaching from the Gulf on its eastern coast to the
Pacific Ocean, almost 2,000 miles, with a breadth varying from 140 to
750 miles. The whole territory of Montezuma, at the time of the Spanish
conquest, was not less than 1,600,000 square miles, more than one half
of which has been obtained by the United States by purchase, enforced
treaties, or otherwise. The plains on the coast are low, marshy, and in
the summer and autumn malarial diseases are very prevalent. Strangers
can visit the place with safety only about four months in the year, when
severe northern gales cool the heated atmosphere and dissipate the seeds
of disease.
There are 6,000 miles of coast line, but, considering its extent, it does
not furnish many good harbors.
The main body of the land is an elevated plateau, traversed by chains
of mountains, some of which are of extraordinary height. The eastern
Cordillera, or chain, that runs nearly north from the initial point has
an elevation of 6,000 feet, the western nearly 10,000. Traversing the
longitudinal range, there are several cross ranges containing some of
the highest volcanoes on the continent. They are all quiescent now, and
none of them have been active during the present century. There are not
many lakes, and none that are very large. The basins of some, though of
sufficient extent, are so arid, and evaporation is carried on so rapidly
that the water in them has, at times, quite disappeared. Neither are the
rivers of much importance as thoroughfares. The Rio Grande, forming the
boundary between Mexico and Texas, is the longest (1,500 miles), but
navigable only for a short distance. Those in the mountain region are
impetuous torrents, larger near their source than afterward, as they lose
more by absorption, in passing through arid portions of the table-lands,
than they gain by drainage, except in the rainy season. After plowing
deep furrows, and cutting out immense ravines among the foot hills of the
mountains, some are partly exhausted, drawn into reservoirs and canals
constructed for purposes of irrigation, and spread out into sluggish
bayous, of no great depth, before they reach the sea. The lack of
navigable streams has been seriously felt.
Climate, other things being equal, decides the flora of a country, and in
this respect Mexico has many advantages. Were the country level from the
Gulf to the ocean, it would have mostly a tropical climate, and produce
only the vegetation of the tropics. But, rising in successive stages to
a height of 19,720 feet, the temperature changes with the elevation,
and a large portion enjoys the climate of the temperate zones. The
low lying region near the coast, called the “hot country,” has a rich
soil, a humid atmosphere, and abundant rains, that perpetually nourish
a rank tropical vegetation. At an elevation of 3,000 feet we reach a
delightful zone where the extremes of heat and cold are unknown, the
temperature ranging from fifty to eighty-six degrees. Here the forms
of vegetable life, mingling those of the lower and upper regions, have
a charming variety. Crossing this wide belt, with its luxuriance in
things of surpassing beauty and usefulness, and advancing gradually
till the mountains begin to show their rugged forms, at an elevation of
8,000 feet a colder climate is reached, with a corresponding change in
the vegetation that now ranges from the corn, barley, and other useful
cereals and hardier fruits to the cryptogamia of the mountain top. Take
it all through, from coast to mountain, it is quite safe to say Mexico
has a flora not excelled by any other country of the same dimensions. And
it has increased with the advance of civilization. Many plants, flowering
shrubs, and fruit-bearing trees that were not indigenous, but successive
contributions from the Old World, have a vigorous growth, and produce
abundantly. Apples, pears, peaches, cherries, oranges and grapes, with a
variety of choice East India fruits, are widely distributed through the
country. In the coast region, and to an elevation of about 1,500 feet,
they have cotton, cocoanuts, cocoa, cloves, vanilla, nutmegs, peppers,
and other spices of commerce, beside the fruits of nearly all tropical
countries of the east and west. Higher up they have sugar, coffee,
indigo, rice, tea, bananas, and an abundant supply of edible roots, such
as yam, arrow-root, sweet potato, and all the fruits of America, Central
Asia, and Barbary.
From a partial catalogue of the productions of the country there is
evidence that its agricultural possibilities are very great. Nearly
all fruits and grain, indeed, nearly all plants that grow, are either
indigenous to the country or may find a congenial home within its limits.
Some parts of the upland require irrigation to make them productive,
and, if the dry season is prolonged, water must be stored in basins for
the use of stock. The neglect of this, especially where the land has
been long cleared, causes barrenness, and gives the country a desolate
appearance.
The agriculture of the country has never been of a high order, though the
Aztecs, at the time of the Spanish invasion, were an agricultural people,
and about as well acquainted with the arts and processes of husbandry
as most nations of the East were at that day. Having incorporated in
their communities the shattered remains of the old Tolteck tribes they
had acquired considerable civilization, and were not, as the invaders
supposed, rude nomads, or even herdsmen, but cultivators of the soil,
and fixed in the possession of their estates. Theirs was not a skillful
husbandry, since necessity, mother of inventions, had not greatly
improved either their methods or their instruments. They had no plows,
harrows, or cultivators, but used hoes, knives, and sickles made of
copper. In planting, the earth was loosened with a hoe or stick, and the
seed, when dropped, covered with the foot.
The present state of agriculture, though much improved, is still very
inferior, and the production, reported in the last census, $177,451,985,
might, from the same areas, be greatly increased. Before the recent
advent of railroads those far in the interior had no adequate means for
exporting the excess of their products, and little inducement to raise
more than they needed to consume.
Mexican forests furnish in abundance nearly, if not all, the useful
timber trees of the north, and those valuable woods that grow only in the
tropics. Some sixty varieties used for timber are mentioned, and twenty
suitable for the finest style of interior finishing and furnishing.
The mines of Mexico have long been famous, and are not surpassed in
richness by those of any other country in the world. Early in the
fifteenth century the inhabitants had accumulated wealth from that
source, and the glitter of their gold led the avaricious Spaniards to
undertake the conquest of the country. Just how long the mines had been
worked before the invaders came is not known. After a change of owners,
and the improved methods they adopted, the product was greatly increased,
and ever since, though subject to many interruptions on account of
political disturbances, it has been larger than in any other country
except the United States. The Spanish settlers at once engaged in working
the mines of Tasco, Pachuca, Zacatecas, and Guanajuato. Cortes selected
for himself and worked the gold mines of Techuantepec, and the silver
mines of Zacatecas, that were found productive. The mine at Real del
Monte, near the city of Mexico, has yielded largely, and enriched several
successive owners. And the principal vein at Guanajuato, noted for its
richness, is described as ten yards wide, and has been worked a distance
of more than eight miles. In the early part of this century the annual
product of these mines exceeded twenty-five million dollars, and they
seem inexhaustible. The whole of the gold and silver taken from the mines
of Mexico up to 1870 was estimated at $4,200,000,000. The seven principal
mines of San Luis Potosi are said to be very productive, and the whole
of Sinaloa abounds in silver mines. In Sonora there are one hundred and
forty-four operated, chiefly producing gold, and a much larger number in
which, though productive, work is suspended. Many large mining districts
are simply located, and their development delayed, awaiting more ready
means of access to them. That country alone, probably, could furnish
the world a full supply of the precious metals for centuries, or until
they become as plenty and cheap as they were in Jerusalem in the time
of Solomon’s reign. Mexico has not only mines of gold and silver, but
the country abounds in other minerals of no less importance. Iron, tin,
copper, lead, mercury, cinnabar, and nearly all the known metals are more
or less abundant. Coal is found in three or four districts, but to what
extent, or of what quality we are not informed. The products of the coal
fields, and their rich quarries, and of the oil belts, can be but little
known till their facilities for transportation are improved.
The roads constructed as thoroughfares of travel and commerce will modify
the industries of the country through which they pass. Mining and stock
raising, already extensive, will be increased. Farming and farms, such
as we have in the States, will be common, and, as the resources of the
country become better known, many enterprising men will be attracted to
the Mexican plateaux; society will improve, the reign of superstition
will cease, and a free government for an intelligent Christian people,
though for a time struggling against chronic tendencies to revolution,
will become established, and strong as it is liberal.
Mexico encourages immigration, but, naturally enough, prefers those
of the Latin race, as more like the native population. Still, having
friendly relations with the United States, and greatly improved
opportunities for intercourse, prejudices will be overcome, barriers that
have hindered immigration taken down, and perfect liberty of conscience
proclaimed through all the land, to all the inhabitants thereof.
TWO SEAS.
BY ADA IDDINGS GALE.
Are not those wild steeds champing on the beach,
Rearing and splashing on the lonesome shore,
The main land seeking frantic’ly to reach,
Their white manes gleaming like the frost wreaths hoar?
Steeds of the sea are they that tireless ever
Beat with their sounding hoofs the hard sea sand,
Lashed onward by the blast, with fierce endeavor
They vainly seek the quiet of the land.
Type of that wild unrest that fills the soul:
The waves of longing, mad desire, and strife,
Whose undertone of sorrowfullest dole
Is the sad voicing of the sea called Life.
A type and yet unlike—there is a shore
Where the wild sea forgets the tempest’s breath,
And rests in lullful silence evermore
Upon the wide, white, shining strand of death.
O perfect peace! O blessed mystery!
Where waves of longing cease their gainless quest,
And on the still sands of eternity
Do melt away in an eternal rest.
NEW ORLEANS WORLD’S EXPOSITION.
BY BISHOP W. F. MALLALIEU, D.D.
London and Paris, Vienna, Philadelphia and New Orleans share the honor of
having been selected as sites for the grandest displays of which modern
civilization is capable. This far-away city of the Southeast was selected
in view of the fact that it is the great metropolis of a vast and rapidly
developing portion of the Union, and to emphasize the fact that the time
has come when the past, with its mistakes and antagonisms should be left
behind, and also to encourage the rising industries of the entire South.
The general government did well when it extended most generous financial
aid to the enterprise. And should further need of such assistance be
developed, it is to be hoped that enough will be supplied to make the
Exposition a complete success.
The formal opening took place on December 16, 1884, by the President of
the United States. True, he was not present, and yet the touch of his
fingers set in motion the engine that drives a thousand whirling gears
and pulleys. Fifty years ago it would have taken President Jackson a
month to travel from Washington to New Orleans, but now, quicker than
the revolving planet turns upon its axis, the President, standing in his
office in Washington, executes his will in a city a thousand miles away.
This world used to be twenty-four thousand miles in circumference, and it
took six months to make a voyage around it. Now it has become so small
there are no distant lands; we are all neighbors, and crowded at that,
and thought, which is a part of man and the best part, travels round the
world in the twinkling of an eye. It is a great thing to live on so small
a world in such an age as this. Nowhere do such thoughts more forcibly
impress themselves upon the observer than in a World’s Exposition, for
here, side by side in friendly rivalry, are the people and productions
of almost all the nations of the earth. The Chinaman is here with his
hideous gods and all sorts of queer things, from ivory chopsticks to the
most elaborate porcelains. The men of Japan are found wherever there is
an honest dollar to be made. They bring things to show and to sell. With
their thin lips and sharp pointed noses, and keen, bright eyes, they
remind one of the shrewdest types of Yankee peddlers. Nobody expects to
get the better of one of these Yankees from the land of the rising sun.
Their ingenuity is surprising, and their powers of imitation are nearly
equal to those of the Chinese. With the inspiration which comes with
Christianity, it is safe to predict that a future of great promise is
the portion of this nation. The ubiquitous Turk is here with the same
articles, or their duplicates, that he has had in every exposition, and
which he is gradually introducing into state fairs. These institutions
of the present age must greatly stimulate the small industries of the
Turkish Empire, though some people have thought the Turks at Philadelphia
were, for the most part, born in Ireland, and these of New Orleans are
supposed to be native Creoles, but still they sell olive wood paper
weights, paper cutters, work boxes and trinkets of various sorts, said
olive wood having the reputation of coming from Jerusalem, and, to
support the reputation, being inscribed with divers Hebrew letters which
the sellers are unable to decipher. Of course the European nations are
represented, but not to so great an extent as at Philadelphia, and not
so fully as will be the case a month later. The foreign countries best
represented are our next door neighbors. Here is Jamaica, true to its
past and present, with an exhibition of all sorts of rum, from thirty
years old and less, in bottles and barrels of all shapes. It is put
up with a nicety and even elegance which would be worthy of something
better. Then she sends sugar and molasses, dye woods, coffee, cocoa,
and skins dressed and undressed, with samples of varied workmanship
in several departments. Mexico sends the military band of the Eighth
Regiment of cavalry, more than fifty pieces, and it does credit to that
Republic. There is an air of Spain about all the productions of Mexico,
whether it be the crude ore from her mines of gold and silver, or the
richly caparisoned saddles, which in beauty and comfort are unsurpassed.
Honduras, both Spanish and British, Guatemala, and Central America, add
largely to the extent and attractiveness of the display. No one can
carefully study the exhibits of these four last named countries without
being profoundly impressed with the idea that they must possess a wealth
of undeveloped resources which will, in the near future, attract the
attention of the civilized world. It is manifest that they have a soil of
exuberant fertility, and a climate that is free from the cold rigors of
the north and even from all dangers of frost, and that all circumstances
offer the promise of the maximum of results for the minimum of toil and
capital. It seems as if a good many of the physical conditions of the
Garden of Eden were still retained by these favored countries.
Nearly, if not quite all the states of our Union are represented, though
it is to be regretted that some of them, especially Massachusetts and
Pennsylvania, are deserving of severe criticism for the very meager
displays which they offer. The people of Massachusetts will have
more cause for shame than pride when they visit the spot where their
activities and achievements should be fairly and fully set forth. There
is no excuse for such a failure. Even little Rhode Island does better
than her proud neighbor. It is a Rhode Island Harris-Corliss engine
that drives the machinery, and the same State sends one of the grandest
locomotives that ever ran on rails. Connecticut, the land of notions and
wooden nutmegs, makes a fine show of her thread manufactures. The whole
process, from preparing the raw cotton to selling the thread in spools,
is displayed before the eyes of the admiring spectators. Not a few of the
Southern people are led to ask, as they see the thread making and, close
beside it, the weaving of cotton cloth, why should we send the cotton
we raise to the North, especially to the most distant eastern corner of
the North, and after the people there have made it into thread and cloth
bring the same cotton back again? Why pay them for transporting it both
ways and also for manufacturing it? It is well for them that they are
asking such questions. When people begin to inquire it is a sure sign
that they are getting ready to act. Soon we may expect to find them
making their own cloth and thread where the cotton is grown.
The great West is here in full force, the states west of the Mississippi
being especially prominent. It is not long since Kansas and Nebraska were
both included within the limits of “The Great American Desert,” on whose
sandy soil it was said not even grass could grow. But now from those same
arid plains come the best of corn and wheat, and all the other cereals,
with fruits and vegetables that are truly surprising. Such potatoes as
Oregon and Colorado send need at least such hills as those in which
eastern farmers raise similar crops. Think of potatoes ten inches long,
six inches wide, and four thick. But time and space would alike fail to
specify the abundance and variety of the horticultural and pomological
products of the West, this including all west of the Alleghenies, and
especially west of the Father of Waters.
One of the most important sources of national prosperity, growth, and
riches is to be found in our mineral deposits. Here we see rich specimens
of almost every known mineral, and all found within our own borders.
Within the list are tin, zinc, copper, silver, gold, iron and coal, with
unnumbered others; but these mentioned are the principal, and these are
the factors which enter largely into all problems of modern progress
and civilization; they add to the riches, if not the wealth of any
people; and wisely used, they will add to the wealth as well as riches.
The central and eastern portions of the Union abound in coal and iron;
these give strength and stability to the enterprise and industry of a
people. The Rocky Mountain range, in all its length, from its outlying
spur reaching through Alaska to Behrings Strait on the north, to the
Mexican border on the south, is full of gold and silver. These deposits
excite the ambition and stimulate the energies of the people; and it is
sure that the fact just stated will help the American people to find a
solution to the disgusting problem presented by Mormons. The heart of the
Rocky Mountains will not always be dominated by the most virulent enemies
of all that is truly American and Christian. The forests, with the
endless variety of woods they produce, never made a better showing than
at this Exposition. From Maine to California, and from Florida to Dakota,
various woods gathered from the plains, the mountains and the swamps show
the abundant supply with which the country is provided. The specimens are
prepared so that the trunk of the tree, with the bark covering it, the
wood showing the grain polished, and varnished and unvarnished, can all
be seen at a glance.
To most people of middle age or beyond, the collection of machinery is
peculiarly interesting. Young people have no personal knowledge of the
extraordinary progress of invention within the last twenty-five or thirty
years. Thirty years ago and men and women were reaping the ripened grain
just as the Greeks and Romans did 700 B. C., and just as the servants of
Boaz did on the plains of Bethlehem 1100 B. C., and, in fact, just as
Noah and his family did when they raised the first crop after they left
the ark. But there has been a revolution in the implements of husbandry.
A crooked stick is no longer used as a plow, but in the place of the
stick are plows of all shapes and sizes, gold mounted and nickel plated,
as ornamental as a parlor piano. The rude hoe is superseded by all
sorts of cultivators. Planting is done by machinery, elaborate, exact,
scientific and elegant. The great Daniel Webster when asked as to the
best way to hang a scythe replied the best way he had ever found (and
he was brought up on a farm) was to hang it over the limb of a tree. If
he could see these mowers and the many other machines to make hay, he
would conclude that he had reached the millennium as far as hay making
is concerned. So, too, the sickle has given way to the machinery drawn
by a span of horses, that can almost do the work required on a trot.
The machine reaps, gathers up and binds the bundles. Not long ago all
threshing was done by tying two straight sticks together with a string,
the best string was an eelskin dried and tanned, and then the farmer, in
dust and solitude, would pound away at the straw laid out upon the barn
floor; but here is a machine that will thresh and winnow wheat as fast
as six men can toss in the bundles to the man who feeds, and it will
take as many more to remove and stack the straw. And so it is with the
whole business of farming. What is true of the processes is equally true
of almost every other manual industry. It is a revelation of wonders to
walk about amid these exhibits of machinery, and remember that to all
intents and purposes the results we behold are the achievements of the
last fifty, and in most cases of the last thirty years. And it is equally
remarkable that most of these inventions are the offspring of American
thought.
It is most natural for every thoughtful person to ask, how is this and
why? The ready and superficial answer is that “Necessity is the mother
of invention,” and that the American people, by the conditions of life
surrounding them, have been compelled to invent. But surely such an
answer can not be considered satisfactory. There are two events in modern
times that no philosopher, physicist, ethnologist or theologian has up to
this time fully measured, and much less has been able to estimate their
relation to the future of humanity. The first of these events is the vast
migration of the peoples of the Old World to the New, by which, within
the last sixty years 12,000,000 of human beings, most of them young men
and women, have left Europe to make their homes in the United States.
God only knows the importance and significance of this movement. The
second marvelous event of these days in which we live is the sweep and
triumph of invention. It is worth considering that the steam power of the
United States represents more than the entire muscular force of all the
able-bodied men in the world. And the improvements in machinery represent
immeasurable conquests of mind in the realm of matter. It does not take
omniscience to apprehend, to some extent, the fact that these things must
affect the destiny of the whole family of mankind. With such thoughts as
these in mind one walks amid these minute or ponderous contrivances for
the application of power, with something of the reverence and wonder felt
by Moses when he stood in the presence of the bush that burned but was
not consumed. It is evident that God, the Eternal Ruler of all things, is
in the midst of these “flying wheels.”
One of the most interesting exhibits is that made of the live stock. The
spirited, clean-limbed trotting stock of Kentucky is here. The little
Shetland ponies are side by side with the vast Normans. Some of the full
grown ponies are so small that a strong man could easily toss one of them
to his shoulders, but a Norman that weighs more than 2,000 pounds is
altogether a different creature. The Clydesdales may be good for draft
horses, but their enormous fetlocks so disfigure their feet and legs as
to make them appear homely and uncouth. The Normans and Percherons do
not have this disfigurement. They are magnificent in size, some of them
black and glossy as anthracite coal, others are deep bay, almost a rich
mahogany color, others are dapple gray, from very dark to very light, and
two of them are as white as milk. To any one who loves horses this show
is worth the travel of a thousand miles. It would make the heart of Rosa
Bonheur glad to walk through the stables; and if the finest of the horses
could be grouped together under her artistic eye she would have all she
could wish for one of her famous pictures. These, or such as these, Job
had in mind when he wrote: “Thou hast given the horse strength, thou hast
clothed his neck with thunder. He mocketh at fear and is not affrighted,
he rejoiceth in his strength.”
Nothing less, in every praiseworthy point, is the exhibit of horned
cattle. Short Horns, Herefords, Devons, Jerseys, Holsteins, Galloways,
vie with each other in size and beauty. One ox weighs 2,990 pounds, and
many of them exceed 2,000 pounds. They are thoroughbreds, or carefully
crossed, and it is doubtful if finer specimens could be obtained, even
in the original habitats of the respective breeds. But I need not write
of jacks and jennies, of mules, and sheep, and hogs, they are all here,
after their kind, and worthy of admiration for the perfection they
display as the result of painstaking skill.
The educational interests are variously represented, and many of the
cities and educational societies, and even private or denominational
schools find space to show the methods and results of each. The
Freedman’s Aid Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church makes a
creditable display. The same is true of the American Missionary Society,
and of several Roman Catholic institutions. The facts, however, seem to
show that comparatively little progress has been made in the science
of education in the last twenty years. Whether we have reached the
ultimatum, so far as methods are concerned, is the question. The child
is yet to be born who knows his letters without being taught them.
The capital of each, at start, is nothing, and only one thing can be
learned at a time, and the human brain is only capable of a certain
amount of work. These are some of the limitations a good many educators
are inclined to overlook, and yet they will continue to confront all
practical people as long as the world stands. Would it not be well, at
about this time, for visionary people, with all sorts of educational
vagaries, to halt for a little while and inquire if a thorough, plain,
fundamental education is not the desideratum for the great majority of
the youth of every land. A good part of modern education partakes of
the frivolous character of the times. Substantial, honest, common-sense
education is vastly better than the illusions and flippancies of
sentimental theorists.
Speaking of the Freedman’s Aid Society as above, reminds one that the
colored people are admitted to participate in the Exposition. Well, the
world moves. We are not where we were twenty-five years ago. We are
coming up out of the wilderness. Shall we come “full as the moon, clear
as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?” Yes, if we come in
God’s order. No, if we do not. It always pays to do right. It never
pays to do wrong. No curse ever comes causeless. It is sometimes worth
remembering that the 7,000,000 colored people in the United States own
on an average property to the amount of $14, and it is not long since
they started with nothing. They will send some missionaries to Africa,
but most of them will live and die with us, and where we are buried there
will they be buried. It is time we recognized the fact that our God is
their God. Let us all rejoice that they have a place in the World’s
Exposition in New Orleans. We need them, they need us. Why not recognize
our brotherhood with them, and then together consecrate ourselves to the
glorious task of making this land the first and foremost of all the world
in the possession and exemplification of all Christian, and manly, and
patriotic graces? And why not join all forces, North, South, East and
West in one sublime and divinely led effort to carry the untold blessings
of education, morality, freedom, and Christianity to all peoples who
still sit amid the shadows of tyranny, superstition, poverty and
ignorance? This World’s Exposition will reach its highest and grandest
legitimate possibilities just in proportion as it shall help forward
these desires of all good men and these plans and purposes of the World’s
Redeemer.
GEOGRAPHY OF THE HEAVENS FOR MARCH.
BY PROF. M. B. GOFF,
Western University of Pennsylvania.
ECLIPSES.
In the early ages of the world eclipses were regarded as alarming
deviations from the established laws of nature, presaging great
calamities, as famines, pestilences and earthquakes; and among heathen
and superstitious peoples, as evidence of the displeasure of the Deity,
or deities. Herodotus tells of an eclipse of the sun occurring in 585 B.
C., which put an end to a battle between the Medes and Lydians, who were
so terrified by the day turning suddenly into night, that the contending
armies ceased fighting and concluded a peace which was cemented by a
twofold marriage. Another total eclipse of the sun occurred on March 1,
557 B. C., which so terrified the defenders of the Median city Larissa,
that they withdrew from its walls, thus permitting it to fall into the
hands of its besiegers, the Persians.
Among the Hindoos, it is imagined that the moon, as it covers from sight
the face of the sun, is a huge dragon which devours our luminary, and can
only be compelled to disgorge and then driven away “by the beating of
gongs and rending the air with discordant screams of terror and shouts of
vengeance.”
An eclipse of the moon, March 1, 1504, was employed by Columbus to obtain
provisions for himself and his starving companions. Having been wrecked
on the coast of Jamaica, the natives refused him supplies. Knowing that
an eclipse of the moon was about to take place, he informed them that the
Great Spirit was displeased with them on account of their ill-treatment
of the Spaniards, and would manifest his displeasure by shutting out the
light of the moon. When the eclipse occurred, the Indians, terrified by
the sight, hastened to him with abundant supplies, beseeching him to
intercede with the Great Spirit in their behalf.
At the present day we look upon these wonderful events as the results of
natural causes, whose operations have long since been explained. We have
learned that an eclipse of the sun is merely the moon coming between the
earth and the sun, thus shutting off from the former all or a portion
of the light of the latter; that this event may occur as often as five
times, and never less than twice in one year; that it can only occur at
time of new moon; that it occurs only in limited portions of the earth
at any one time, and hence, that although happening so often, for any
given place it is a comparatively rare event—especially the last two of
the three kinds, _partial_, _annular_, and _total_; and that the portion
of the earth affected by a total eclipse does not exceed 170 miles in
diameter; or, in other words, the width of the moon’s shadow, when it
falls perpendicularly on the earth’s surface, is not more than 170 miles.
We have learned, also, that an eclipse of the moon is occasioned by the
earth coming between the moon and the sun; that this event can not occur
more than twice in any one year, and may not occur even once; that it
happens always at full moon; that it can be seen in all parts of the
earth where the moon is above the horizon at the time of the occurrence;
and for this reason, although it only happens in the ratio of 29 to 41 as
compared with eclipses of the sun, yet there are more lunar than solar
eclipses visible in any given place.
During the present month we shall have two eclipses, one of the sun and
one of the moon.
THE SUN
Will be eclipsed on the 16th, first contact taking place in longitude
136° 49.3´ west and latitude 13° 25.3´ north, at 8:26 p. m., Washington
mean time; and the last contact in longitude 32° 58.3´ west and latitude
49° 0.8´ north, at 1:22 a. m. on the 17th. The central eclipse will
begin in longitude 156° 39.5´ west and latitude 35° 54.5´ north at 9:48
p. m., and end in longitude 15° 4.6´ west, latitude 71° 24.1´ north, at
12:00, midnight. The path of the central eclipse in North America will
be about 35 miles wide, and will take a northeasterly course from a
point near Cape Mendocino on the western coast of California, and will
embrace Weaverville, Cal., Idaho and Boise cities in Idaho; Bannock City
and Gallatin, Montana; cross the boundary line between the United States
and the British Possessions in longitude about 105° west; pass through
the central part of Hudson’s Bay; cross Hudson Strait, Davis’s Strait,
and Greenland, ending as above in longitude 15° 4.6´ west, latitude
71° 24.1´ north. As this is an annular eclipse, the shadow of the moon
being too short to reach the earth, parties located in the path named
will see the edge of the sun like a bright ring around the dark shadow
of the moon. Persons outside of this path will see the sun more or less
eclipsed, dependent on their position. The beginning and end of the
eclipse at a number of places in the United States is given below, in
the local time of the cities mentioned: Bangor, Me., begins at 12:48 p.
m., ends at 3:23 p. m.; Concord, N. H., begins at 12:32 and ends at 3:07
p. m.; at Montpelier, Vt., lasts from 12:26 to 3:03 p. m.; Boston, Mass.,
from 12:36 to 3:09 p. m.; Providence, R. I., from 12:33 to 3:05 p. m.;
Hartford, Conn., from 12:25 to 2:58 p. m.; New York, 12:17 to 2:50 p.
m.; Trenton, N. J., 12:13 to 2:45; Pittsburgh, Pa., 11:38 a. m. to 2:18
p. m.; Wilmington, Del., from 12:07 to 2:40 p. m.; Charleston, S. C.,
from 11:37 a. m. to 2:04 p. m.; Columbus, Ohio, 11:20 a. m. to 2:01 p.
m.; Detroit, Mich., 11:21 a. m. to 2:04 p. m.; Indianapolis, Ind., 11:02
a. m. to 1:45 p. m.; Chicago, Ill., 10:55 a. m. to 1:40 p. m.; Jefferson
City, Mo., 10:24 a. m. to 1:09 p. m.; Lawrence, Kan., 10:07 a. m. to
12:52 p. m.; Omaha, Neb., 10:04 a. m. to 12:51 p. m.; St. Paul, Minn.,
10:26 a. m. to 1:13 p. m.; Des Moines, Ia., 10:18 a. m. to 1:04 p. m.;
Janesville, Wis., 10:47 a. m. to 1:33 p. m.; Santa Fé, New Mex., 8:59 to
11:49 a. m.; Wheeling, W. Va., 11:32 a. m. to 2:13 p. m.; Washington, D.
C., 11:58 a. m. to 2:31 p. m.; Louisville, Ky., 11:03 a. m. to 1:44 p.
m.; Denver, Col., 9:10 a. m. to 12:01 p. m.; Bismarck, Dakota, 9:44 a.
m. to 12:33 p. m.; New Orleans, La., 10:28 a. m. to 1:08 p. m. Our usual
notes for the sun are as follows: Rises on the 1st at 6:33; on the 16th,
at 6:09; and on the 30th, at 5:45 a. m.; and sets on the corresponding
days at 5:51, 6:10 and 6:22 p. m. respectively. Spring begins on the 20th
at 5:21 a. m.; northward movement, 12° 6´.
THE MOON
Will be partially eclipsed on the 30th, entering the earth’s shadow at
9:50 a. m. and leaving it at 1:02 p. m. Magnitude of the eclipse, .886.
As the moon does not rise with us on this date till between 6:00 and 7:00
p. m. it is evident that the eclipse will not be visible in the United
States. It will be visible, however, in the western Pacific Ocean, Asia,
and the eastern portions of Europe and Africa. On the 1st, moon rises at
6:42 p. m.; on the 15th, at 5:29 a. m.; and on the 31st, at 7:39 p. m. It
presents the following phases: Last quarter, 8th, 1:46 p. m.; new moon,
16th, 12:28 p. m.; first quarter, 23d, 12:15 p. m.; full moon, 30th,
11:32 a. m. Farthest from earth, 9th, 3:12 p. m.; nearest earth, 23d,
3:54 p. m.; least elevation, 9th, 30° 17´ 23´´; greatest elevation, 23d,
66° 41´ 16´´ (in latitude 41° 30´ north).
MERCURY
Has a direct motion of 52° 59´ 4´´; increase in diameter, one second; on
7th, at 9:00 a. m., 1° 3´ south of Mars; 13th, at 1:00 p. m., in superior
conjunction with the sun; 16th, at 8:02 p. m., 1° 37´ south of the moon;
28th, at 4:00 a. m., nearest the sun. On the 1st, 16th and 30th, rises at
6:23, 6:26 and 6:22 a. m. respectively; and sets on same days at 4:51,
6:16 and 7:42 p. m. Can be seen with naked eye on the last few evenings
of the month.
VENUS
Continues as morning star throughout the month, but makes little display,
both on account of her distance from us and her proximity to the sun. Her
diameter diminishes from 10.6´´ to 10´´, and her time of rising is as
follows: On the 1st, 6:02 a. m.; on the 16th, 5:51 a. m.; on the 30th,
5:36 a. m.; on the 6th, at 6:00 a. m., she is farthest from the sun; on
15th, at 1:42 p. m., 3° 32´ south of moon; 27th, at 10:00 p. m., 36´
south of Mars. Her motion is direct and equals 37° 23´ 30´´.
MARS
Rises on the 1st at 6:32 a. m. and sets at 5:24 p. m.; on the 16th, rises
at 6:00 a. m. and sets at 5:28 p. m.; on the 30th, rises at 5:33 a. m.,
sets at 5:25 p. m. Motion direct and amounts to 22° 25´ 38´´; diameter,
4.2´´; on 7th, at 9:00 a. m., 1° 3´ north of Mercury; 16th, at 12:50 a.
m., 2° 34´ south of moon; 27th, at 10:00 p. m., 36´ north of Venus.
JUPITER
Lessens his diameter two seconds, and makes a retrograde motion of 2°
56´. On 27th, at 9:57 a. m., is 4° 40´ north of the moon. He rises on the
1st at 4:42 p. m. and sets on the 2d at 6:07 a. m.; rises on the 16th at
3:35 p. m. and sets on the 17th at 5:09 a. m.; rises on the 30th at 2:34
p. m. and sets on the 31st at 4:10 a. m.
SATURN,
As a telescopic object, is still improving, and his time of setting
permits him to be viewed with less than usual inconvenience. On the 2d he
sets at 1:44 a. m.; on the 17th at 12:49 a. m.; and on the 30th at 11:55
p. m., affording thus all the evening for observations. On the 7th, at
3:00 p. m., he is “in quartile,” or 90° east of the sun; on 22d, at 10:28
a. m., 3° 56´ north of the moon.
URANUS
Retrogrades 1° 12´ 23´´; his diameter remains at 3.8´´; on 2d, at 11:59
a. m., he is 1° 6´ north of moon; 21st, at 3:00 a. m., in opposition to
the sun (on the other side of the sun from the earth); 29th, at 7:05 p.
m., 1° 13´ north of moon; sets on the 1st at 7:31 a. m.; on the 16th, at
6:30 a. m.; on the 31st, at 5:30 a. m. Morning star till the 21st; after
that evening star.
NEPTUNE,
With his diameter of 2.6´´ moves some 44´ 46´´ of arc in his orbit,
which is not so slow after all when we consider that his average
absolute motion is 3.36 miles per second, and that his aggregate for
the 31 days of this month is a little less than nine million miles. His
right ascension on the 1st is 3 hours, 15 minutes, 18 seconds, and his
declination 16° 17´ 57´´ north. He sets on the 1st at 11:33 p. m.; on the
16th at 10:29 p. m.; and on the 30th at 9:43 p. m.—an evening star.
HOW TO WIN.
BY FRANCES E. WILLARD,
President National W. C. T. U.