Rug-beating is hard work no matter what kind of tools one has. But who does not love to ply the hose? I made up my mind once that a rug that had to have an expensive compressed air bath or stay dirty was not living up to its function as a sanitary floor covering. I experimented with an all-wool rug, some good white soap, warm rain water, and a scrubbing brush. A good lather was laid first on the back, then I threw discretion to the winds and lathered the face of the thing. I scrubbed it as if my life depended upon making the colours run, if they would. Then I let the children turn the hose on it. We turned it over and over and over again, till it was very, very wet. It was also clean. We left it on the grass in the shade the first day. Then we laid it still damp, face down, on the clean, dry floor of the porch where the sun could get at it and the breeze. It was dry by the night of the second day and so clean that it was a real joy to handle it. One by one we put every rug in the house through the same course of treatment. A couple of Wiltons, a few of Brussels carpeting, some that were woven out of old ingrain carpets, the rag ones, and finally the precious Orientals went through the water cure. Before I dared do this last act, I got advice from a rug man, who said that really good rugs would suffer no harm from such treatment. But one never believes until he tries it, and now we all believe, and our rugs are more beautiful than before. We treated the best rugs very gently, of course, but none the less thoroughly, and we dried them face up on the hard floor right in the sun part of the time. It takes about three days and nights to get the dampness all out. [Illustration: Rug-beating frame, down in use] Good rugs ought never to be treated roughly. They should be swept gently _with the nap_, and never beaten with a whip, hung on the line, or shaken. Lay on a soft carpet of grass or on a rug-beating frame and beat gently with a flat rattan beater. When rolled, roll with the nap; never fold them. XI MAKING THE COUNTRY A BETTER PLACE TO LIVE IN I once asked Professor Bailey, "What is the most important farm crop raised in the United States?" Without a moment's hesitation he answered, "Boys and girls." Of course they are. The best farmers, the real bone and sinew of the country, are the kind that raise the crops themselves, without much help from the outside. They grow nearly every thing they eat, and exchange their surplus for the food and clothing that they can't raise. There is a type of farm life where the family is brought up on the principle that what is too poor to sell is good enough to eat. The boys and girls of such a family are too good for such a life. They do not stay in the country. Like the big apples, the prize potatoes, and the gilt-edge butter, though raised on the farm, they are consumed in the city.