orth such a dinner as they describe.

Books portraying the feasibility of "Comfortable living on seven
hundred a year," or "How to keep house on a restricted income," are
both helpful and pernicious. The prospective housewife buys them
eagerly and devours them with avidity. She and John are boarding now,
but are soon to have a home of their own, and after perusing their
newly purchased volumes, they decide that their limited income will
amply enable them to live in comfort although, perhaps, not in luxury.
The tiny house or flat is rented, and they settle down, as Mrs.
Whitney's Emery Anne would say, "to realize their geography," or, more
properly speaking, to live their recently acquired knowledge, which
is, in many points, very useful.

But--and here comes the mischief wrought by over-sanguine
literature--the authors of these books leave too many things out of
the question. The expenses of moving and the purchase of necessary
furniture are, of course, omitted, but Mary finds to her chagrin that
fuel--no slight item in any family,--and light,--also absolutely
essential,--have not been taken into account. These make a big hole in
the income which had seemed all-sufficient. It is expedient, also,
occasionally, to have a woman in to do a day's cleaning, and the
weekly wash is a bugbear which makes our young people shudder. The
poor little housewife has many an anxious, tearful hour in striving to
make both ends meet, while the most amiable husband cannot help
wondering audibly "how it is they cannot live as cheaply as other
people do."

In housekeeping, as in all else, one must learn the lesson for one's
self. All the rules and theories in all the books and periodicals in
the country are worth little compared with three months of personal
experience. Happy is the young wife who has had some practice in
housekeeping in her father's house before the heavier responsibility
of a home of her own rests on her shoulders.

Let me remind our Mary, first of all, of the truth that there is no
meanness in economy, and that--as I cannot repeat too often or too
strongly--waste is vulgar. It is not the lady who scorns to save
scraps of butter, who throws the few cold boiled potatoes left from
dinner into the ash-barrel, and empties the teaspoonful of cream from
the bottom of the pitcher into the kitchen sink. Your servant will not
have the brains and foresight to detect in these seemingly useless
articles factors which may aid mate