The housekeeping of a Shaker family is very thoroughly and effectively done. The North Family at Mount Lebanon consists of sixty persons; six sisters suffice to do the cooking and baking, and to manage the dining-hall; six other sisters in half a day do the washing of the whole family. The deaconesses give out the supplies. The men milk in bad weather, the women when it is warm. The Swedish brother told me that he was this winter taking a turn at milking--to mortify the flesh, I imagine, for he had never done this in his own home; and he used neither milk nor butter. Many of the brethren have not tasted meat in from twenty-five to thirty-five years. Tea and coffee are used, but very moderately. There is no servant class. "In a community, it is necessary that some one person shall always know where every body is," and it is the elder's office to have this knowledge; thus if one does not attend a meeting, he tells the elder the reason why. Obedience to superiors is an important part of the life of the order. Living as they do in large families compactly stowed, they have become very careful against fires, and "a real Shaker always, when he has gone out of a room, returns and takes a look around to see that all is right." The floor of the assembly room was astonishingly bright and clean, so that I imagined it had been recently laid. It had, in fact, been used twenty-nine years; and in that time had been but twice scrubbed with water. But it was swept and polished daily; and the brethren wear to the meetings shoes made particularly for those occasions, which are without nails or pegs in the soles, and of soft leather. They have invented many such tricks of housekeeping, and I could see that they acted just as a parcel of old bachelors and old maids would, any where else, in these particulars--setting much store by personal comfort, neatness, and order; and no doubt thinking much of such minor morals. For instance, on the opposite page is a copy of verses which I found in the visitors' room in one of the Shaker families--a silent but sufficient hint to the careless and wasteful. Like the old monasteries, they are the prey of beggars, who always receive a dole of food, and often money enough to pay for a night's lodging in the neighboring village; for they do not like to take in strangers.