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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f7cb32 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69858 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69858) diff --git a/old/69858-0.txt b/old/69858-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 045726e..0000000 --- a/old/69858-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,18644 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Motherly talks with young -housekeepers, by Mrs. H. W. Beecher - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Motherly talks with young housekeepers - embracing eighty-seven brief articles on topics of home interest, - and about five hundred choice receipts for cooking, etc. - -Author: Mrs. H. W. Beecher - -Release Date: January 22, 2023 [eBook #69858] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Krista Zaleski and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTHERLY TALKS WITH YOUNG -HOUSEKEEPERS *** - - - - - - MOTHERLY TALKS - - WITH - - YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS: - - EMBRACING - - EIGHTY-SEVEN BRIEF ARTICLES ON TOPICS OF HOME INTEREST, - AND ABOUT FIVE HUNDRED CHOICE RECEIPTS - FOR COOKING, ETC. - - BY - - MRS. H. W. BEECHER. - - [Illustration] - - NEW YORK: - J. B. FORD AND COMPANY. - 1873. - - - - - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, - - BY J. B. FORD & CO., - - in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. - - - UNIVERSITY PRESS: WELCH, BIGELOW, & CO., - CAMBRIDGE. - - - - -PUBLISHERS’ PREFACE. - - -THIS book, composed of brief and pithy articles, on almost every -conceivable point of household duty, is a friendly monitor for young -wives, and a mine of good sense and information for growing maidens. -Originally published in the Household Department of “The Christian -Union,” the articles have been so frequently called for and inquired -after by those who had found help in them, that the author yielded to -the desires of others, and has gathered them into this little volume. - -Mrs. Beecher’s notion of woman’s sphere is, that, whatever exceptional -women may be able to accomplish, by reason of peculiar circumstances -and talents, and freedom from domestic responsibilities, the place -of labor and achievement for most women, and for all married women -and mothers, is Home. And this book is exactly what its title sets -forth,--a kind and motherly way of helping the inexperienced to make -agreeable, well-regulated, and happy homes. Following the “Talks” are a -choice selection of nearly five hundred Cooking Receipts, all vouched -for by the author’s own experience and skillful testing. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - PART I. - - MOTHERLY TALKS WITH YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS. - - PAGE - - I. System in Work 3 - - II. March 7 - - III. Spring Labor 11 - - IV. Sunshine and Fresh Air 14 - - V. House-cleaning 17 - - VI. Washing-day 21 - - VII. Putting Clothes to soak 25 - - VIII. Patient Continuance in Well-doing 28 - - IX. Preparing for the Country 32 - - X. Heedlessness 35 - - XI. Washing Flannels 38 - - XII. June Cares 42 - - XIII. Pure Air and thorough Ventilation 46 - - XIV. Milk and Butter 49 - - XV. Making Cheese 53 - - XVI. A troublesome Question 57 - - XVII. Woman’s Kingdom 63 - - XVIII. The Kitchen 66 - - XIX. How much is a Wife worth? 70 - - XX. Teach little Boys to be useful 74 - - XXI. Bleaching, Starching, and removing Stains 78 - - XXII. To iron Shirts, Vests, and Embroideries 84 - - XXIII. A Talk about Beds 88 - - XXIV. Marketing 91 - - XXV. Trust your Children 96 - - XXVI. Who invented Bread? 100 - - XXVII. How about the little Girls? 107 - - XXVIII. Stealing Servants 112 - - XXIX. Fall Cleaning 117 - - XXX. Fashionable Dress 122 - - XXXI. Lessons by the Wayside 126 - - XXXII. Pauline Pry 130 - - XXXIII. Buy your Cage before you catch your Bird 135 - - XXXIV. Care in selecting a House 138 - - XXXV. Visiting for one’s own Convenience 141 - - XXXVI. Will they Board, or keep House? 146 - - XXXVII. Choice of Colors in Dress 151 - - XXXVIII. Harmonizing Colors in Dress 156 - - XXXIX. A Word about Moths 160 - - XL. Winter Butter 164 - - XLI. Repairs 169 - - XLII. Accurate Weights and Measures in Cooking 173 - - XLIII. Teaching little Girls to sew 176 - - XLIV. The Care of Poultry 180 - - XLV. Institutions for the Education of Women 184 - - XLVI. Great Mistakes 189 - - XLVII. Study to make Home attractive 193 - - XLVIII. The Care of Cooking-Stoves and Ranges 198 - - XLIX. The Old Ways and the New 202 - - L. A few Hints on Carving 206 - - LI. Parental Example 209 - - LII. True Taste more effective than Money 213 - - LIII. Cooking by Steam 217 - - LIV. Vegetables 221 - - LV. Cabbage 225 - - LVI. Pulse 229 - - LVII. Pot-herbs and Salads 234 - - LVIII. Mistakes in cooking Vegetables 237 - - LIX. Divided Family Government 242 - - LX. How can we secure good Servants? 247 - - LXI. The Guest-Chamber 250 - - LXII. The Care of Infants 255 - - LXIII. Personal Neatness 261 - - LXIV. Are House-Plants injurious to the Health? 266 - - LXV. Bad Butter 271 - - LXVI. October 277 - - LXVII. The Slavery of Fashion 282 - - LXVIII. Pickling and Preserving 287 - - LXIX. What has become of all the little Girls? 292 - - LXX. Procrastination 297 - - LXXI. The surest Remedy 302 - - LXXII. A few little Things 308 - - LXXIII. Planning for the Week 312 - - LXXIV. Shopping 316 - - LXXV. Dusting 320 - - LXXVI. A Chapter on Soups 323 - - LXXVI. More about Soups 328 - - LXXVIII. Testing Character 333 - - LXXIX. If we knew! 337 - - LXXX. In such an Hour as ye think not 342 - - LXXXI. Grumbling 346 - - LXXXII. Little Foxes spoiling the beloved Vine 351 - - LXXXIII. Waste not--want not 356 - - LXXXIV. Making Cake and Pastry 360 - - LXXXV. As thy Day so shall thy Strength be 366 - - LXXXVI. What we know not now we shall know hereafter 370 - - LXXXVII. Until Death do us part 375 - - - PART II. - - CHOICE FAMILY RECEIPTS. - - - YEAST. - - Yeast 385 - - Another 385 - - Yeast-Cakes 385 - - - BREAD. - - General Rules 386 - - Bread without Sponging 386 - - Good Bread 386 - - Bread with Sponging 387 - - To make Bread from Flour that runs 387 - - Bread by Scalding the Flour 388 - - To make Stale Bread fresh 388 - - Graham Bread 388 - - Steamed Brown Bread 389 - - Corn Bread 389 - - Rice Bread 390 - - - BISCUIT. - - Morning Biscuit 390 - - Tea Biscuit 390 - - Soda Biscuit 391 - - Indian-Corn Biscuit 391 - - Parker House Rolls 391 - - Rusk 392 - - Sweet Potato Buns 392 - - Potato Pone 392 - - Gems 392 - - Gems, No. 2 392 - - Graham Gems 393 - - - BREAKFAST AND TEA CAKES. - - Corn Cakes 393 - - Another Way 393 - - Another 393 - - Another 393 - - Steamed Johnny-Cake 394 - - Corn-Meal Cake with Apples and Suet 394 - - Muffins 394 - - Another Way 394 - - Cream Muffins 394 - - Another Way 394 - - Raised Muffins 395 - - Hominy Muffins 395 - - Quick Muffins 395 - - Graham Flour Muffins 395 - - Raised Waffles 395 - - Corn-Meal Waffles 396 - - Buckwheat Cakes 396 - - Rice Griddle-Cakes 396 - - Sour-Milk Griddle-Cakes 396 - - Green-Corn Fritters 396 - - Mock Oyster Fritters 397 - - Corn Oysters 397 - - Rice Cakes 397 - - Rice or Hominy Cakes 397 - - Rosie’s Sally Lunn 397 - - Strawberry Shortcake 397 - - Cream Toast 398 - - - SOUPS. - - General Directions 398 - - Stock for Soups 399 - - Tomato Soup 399 - - Another 400 - - A Vegetable Soup 400 - - Mock-Turtle Soup 400 - - Bean Soup 401 - - Soup with Eggs 402 - - Green Pea Soup 402 - - Turtle Bean Soup 402 - - Nursery Soup 403 - - Oyster and Clam Soup 403 - - Potato Soup 403 - - - FISH. - - To Boil Fresh Fish 404 - - Baked Salmon Trout, with Cream Gravy 404 - - Boiled Salmon Trout 404 - - Fried Halibut 405 - - Fish Chowder 405 - - To prepare and dress Cold Fish 405 - - Newport Fish Pudding 406 - - Fish-Balls 406 - - Codfish Balls 407 - - Scalloped Crabs 407 - - Oyster Pie 407 - - Oyster Fritters 408 - - To Fry Oysters 408 - - Lobster Patties 408 - - Lobster Rissoles 409 - - Fish Sauce 409 - - A good Breakfast Dish 409 - - Best Mode of Roasting Fish, Ducks, &c. 409 - - - MEATS. - - - BEEF. - - Leicestershire Hunting Beef 410 - - Spiced Beef 410 - - Curried Beef 411 - - Meat Pie 411 - - Beef Collops 411 - - To Cook a Beefsteak 412 - - Rump Steak, with Oyster Sauce 412 - - A French Broil 412 - - Beefsteak Rolls 413 - - Beef Croquettes 413 - - Mock Duck 413 - - A Nice Breakfast Dish 413 - - Mock Venison 413 - - To prepare Cold Roast Beef or Mutton 414 - - Economical Breakfast Dish 414 - - A “Two Story” 415 - - - MUTTON AND LAMB. - - Shoulder of Mutton Boiled 415 - - Shoulder of Mutton Spiced 415 - - Mutton Stew 416 - - Roasting a Leg of Lamb 416 - - To use Cold Lamb 416 - - Mint Sauce 416 - - - VENISON. - - Jerked Venison 417 - - Venison Steaks 418 - - - COOKING IN A “RUMFORD BOILER.” - - To Roast Beef or Mutton 418 - - To Boil a Leg of Lamb or Mutton 418 - - Corned Beef 418 - - To Cook a Ham 419 - - Fish 419 - - - VEAL. - - Meats for June 420 - - Calf’s Head and Harslet 420 - - Head and Harslet Hash 420 - - Veal Pie 421 - - Sweetbread Croquettes 421 - - Veal Patty 422 - - Minced Veal 422 - - Veal Hash 422 - - Veal Loaf 423 - - Croquettes 423 - - - POULTRY AND GAME. - - Steamed Turkey 423 - - Broiled Chickens 424 - - To Bake a Chicken 425 - - Gravy for Roast or Baked Poultry 426 - - Chicken Pot-Pie 426 - - Fried Chickens 427 - - To Cook an Old Fowl 427 - - Roast Duck 428 - - To Roast a Goose 428 - - Wild Goose 429 - - To Roast a Green Goose 429 - - To Boil a Goose 429 - - To Stew a Goose 430 - - To Stew Pigeons 430 - - Wild Squabs 431 - - Chicken Pudding 431 - - Chicken Jelly 432 - - Chicken Patties 432 - - To make Remnants of Meat, Chicken, etc., palatable 432 - - Meat Croquettes 433 - - - PORK AND HAM. - - To Boil a Ham 433 - - Broiled Ham 433 - - Ham Croquettes 433 - - Ham and Toast 433 - - Ham Toast 434 - - To use Cold Boiled Ham 434 - - Another Way 434 - - Ham Ball 434 - - How a Pig was Roasted on a Sugar Plantation 434 - - Good Sausage Meat 435 - - A Dutch Dish 435 - - - SALADS AND OMELETS. - - Chicken Salad 436 - - Italian Chicken Salad 436 - - Lobster Salad 437 - - Potato Salad 437 - - Plain Omelet 437 - - Puff Omelet 438 - - Oyster Omelet 438 - - Omelet with Jelly 438 - - Baked Omelet 438 - - Omelette Soufflé 439 - - - EGGS. - - Boiled Eggs 439 - - Fried Eggs 439 - - Poached Eggs 439 - - Hard Scrabbled 440 - - Fricasseed Eggs, or Egg Baskets 440 - - Egg Toast 440 - - Scrambled Eggs 441 - - Scrambled Eggs 441 - - Dropped Eggs 441 - - Cottage Cheese 441 - - Cheese Toast 442 - - - VEGETABLES. - - Corn 443 - - Another Way 444 - - Boiling Potatoes 444 - - Another Way 444 - - To Boil New Potatoes 445 - - Mashed Potatoes 445 - - Potato Croquettes 445 - - Saratoga Fried Potatoes 445 - - Scalloped Potatoes 445 - - Snow Potatoes 446 - - Potato Cakes 446 - - To Fry Sweet Potatoes 446 - - Macaroni 446 - - Egg-Plant 447 - - Another Way 447 - - Fricasseed Egg-Plant 447 - - To Stew Tomatoes 448 - - Baked Tomatoes 448 - - Scalloped Tomatoes 448 - - Boiled Rice 449 - - Cooking Rice 449 - - Peas 449 - - Green Peas 450 - - Beans 450 - - Asparagus 451 - - Spinach 451 - - To Boil Cabbage 451 - - To Boil Cabbage with Meat 452 - - Another Way 452 - - Cabbage like Cauliflower 452 - - Cauliflower 452 - - Hot-Slaw 452 - - Cold-Slaw 453 - - To Cook Onions 453 - - - CAKE. - - GENERAL RULES. - - Loaf Cake 454 - - Mrs. Breedley’s Fruit Cake 455 - - Rosie’s Raised Cake 455 - - Fruit Cake 455 - - Farmer’s Fruit Cake 455 - - Whortleberry Cake 456 - - Olic Cake 456 - - Nice little Cakes 456 - - Queen Charlotte’s Cake 456 - - Lemon Cake 456 - - Molasses Drop Cake 457 - - Chicago Fruit Cake 457 - - Cider Cake 457 - - Snow-flake Cake 457 - - Cocoa-nut Cake 457 - - Macaroons 457 - - Delicate Cake 458 - - Sponge Cake 458 - - Pineapple Cake 458 - - Molasses Cup Cake 458 - - Loaf Cake 458 - - Walnut Cake 459 - - Loaf Cake 459 - - Western Cake 459 - - Snowball Cake 459 - - Molasses Cake 459 - - Corn-Starch Cake 459 - - Moss Cake 459 - - Jenny Lind Cake 460 - - Sugar Cookies 460 - - Cookies 460 - - Another Way 460 - - Molasses Gingerbread 460 - - Plain Gingerbread 460 - - Excellent Ginger-Snaps 461 - - - PIES, PUDDINGS, AND DESSERTS. - - Pastry 461 - - Puff Paste 461 - - Potato Pastry for Meat Pies 462 - - Pumpkin Pies 462 - - Dried-Apple Pies 462 - - Pies of Canned Fruit 463 - - Mince Pie 463 - - Rice Pie 464 - - Apple Puffs 464 - - Marlborough Pie 464 - - Chess Pie 464 - - English Christmas Plum Pudding 464 - - A Family Christmas Pudding 465 - - A Simple Christmas Pudding 465 - - Bread Pudding 466 - - Boiled Indian Pudding 466 - - Baked Indian Pudding 466 - - Palmyra, or Date Pudding 466 - - Sponge-Cake Pudding 467 - - Steamed Pudding 467 - - An Excellent Pudding 467 - - Apple and Tapioca Pudding 467 - - Sweet-Apple Pudding 468 - - Fig Pudding 468 - - Barley Cream for Invalids 468 - - Apple Float 468 - - Sago Pudding 468 - - Cocoa-nut Custard 468 - - Apple Pudding 468 - - Sauce 469 - - Nice Cheap Pudding 469 - - Orange Pudding 469 - - Custard without Eggs 469 - - A Quick Pudding 469 - - Rice Meringue 470 - - Sago Pudding 470 - - Lemon or Orange Honeycomb 470 - - Apple Snow 470 - - Snow Pudding 470 - - Cocoa-nut Pudding or Pies 471 - - Bohemian Cream 471 - - Spanish Cream 471 - - Rennet Wine 472 - - Cold Custard 472 - - Baked Apples 472 - - Apple Snow 472 - - - PRESERVES AND JELLIES. - - To Can Peaches 472 - - Mixed Marmalade 473 - - Jellies 473 - - Peach Jelly 474 - - Quince Jelly 474 - - To Preserve Quinces 474 - - Candied Orange Peel 475 - - Apple and Quince Sauce 475 - - Apple Sauce 475 - - Baked Pears 476 - - - CHEESE. - - Stilton Cheese 476 - - Cottenham Cheese 476 - - Parmesan 476 - - Cheddar 477 - - Dunlop 477 - - New Cheese 477 - - Swiss Cheese 477 - - Sage or Green Cheese 477 - - Cream Cheese 477 - - Potato Cheese 478 - - Cheese Straus 478 - - - PICKLES. - - Peach Pickles 478 - - Pickled Plums 480 - - Green Tomato Pickles 480 - - To Pickle Green Tomatoes 481 - - Pickled Nasturtiums 481 - - Pickled Cauliflower 481 - - Tomato Pickles 482 - - To Pickle Onions 482 - - To Pickle Red Cabbage 482 - - Cucumber Pickles 482 - - To Pickle small Cucumbers and Gherkins 483 - - Tomato Catsup 483 - - - MISCELLANEOUS HINTS. - - To make Tea 484 - - Substitute for Milk in Tea and Coffee 485 - - Bread Crumbs 485 - - - GLEANINGS. - - To Clean Kid Gloves 486 - - To keep Grapes 486 - - To Clean Oil-Cloths 486 - - Fill your Lamps in the Morning 486 - - Colored Silk 487 - - To Remove Fruit Stains 487 - - Bee or Wasp Stings 487 - - To Preserve Brooms 487 - - Glossy Starch 488 - - Salt with Nuts 488 - - To take Ink Stains from Mahogany 488 - - To keep Quinces 488 - - Fruit Stains 488 - - Ink Stains 489 - - Buying Furs 489 - - Drying Umbrellas 490 - - A Tight Ring 490 - - Scrubbing White Paint 490 - - How to wash Graining 490 - - To keep Codfish 491 - - Zante Currants 491 - - To keep Cheese 491 - - To keep Smoked Beef and Hams 491 - - To keep Preserves 491 - - Care of Flour-Barrels 491 - - Indian Meal 491 - - Coffee and Tea 492 - - Raisins and Starch 492 - - Household Weights and Measures 492 - - To test Flour 492 - - -INTRODUCTION. - - -FOR the last two years we have occupied a corner in “The Christian -Union” with the following brief articles, and from week to week -endeavored to bring to its readers something useful and practical. We -have reviewed the daily labors indispensable to all classes of homes, -giving whatever suggestions or criticisms seemed to us most needed or -desirable, not only as regards the manual labor of a household, but -also the actions, motives, and principles which build up and secure the -happiness of a family; or which, falsely understood and neglected, must -lay the foundation for misery and sin. - -We have been requested by many of our readers to gather these _talks_ -together, for the more convenient use of those for whom they were -written, namely, _young housekeepers_, who, marrying before their -domestic education has received sufficient attention, daily find many -stumbling-blocks in their way, which haply a word fitly spoken might -remove. - -Where so much has been written in the way of “Advice to Young -Housekeepers,” “Household Guides,” etc., it would seem superfluous -to venture on this well-worn track, did it not lead to a portion of -general education too little thought of, where “line upon line and -precept upon precept” are peculiarly needed. - -The home education of our girls is often sadly neglected. Indulgent -mothers, who have kept their daughters in school from earliest -childhood, think it would be cruel to ask that any part of their -vacation should be usefully employed. It must all be given to -relaxation and amusement, leaving the knowledge of the homely household -duties which would enable them to superintend and adorn a happy home -to be learned after they have been “graduated.” Yet how many young -girls pass from the seminary at once into married life, and on their -first entrance into society are transformed from simple school-girls -into wives and housekeepers! If no part of their child-life was devoted -to those lessons, which none should be able to teach so kindly and so -thoroughly as a mother, what is the result? The _home_ which the lover -dreamed of, proves dark and comfortless, and the bride is too often -transformed into the heartless devotee of fashion, instead of the -companion and helpmeet God designed a wife to be. - -Young ladies would soon discover the richer life there is in one’s own -home, if they were early initiated into an intimate knowledge of the -whole routine of home duties and household mysteries, so that when -they shall be exalted to the dignity of the mistress of a house, they -can with good judgment and intelligence direct their servants, or -independently perform the labor of a family, easily and methodically, -with their own hands. With such knowledge, and the ability to execute, -they can greatly augment domestic happiness and add new lustre to their -charms as companion and friend. - -True, there is much that is hard and disagreeable in household cares -and labors; but what good thing do we possess that does not require -thought, effort, and often unpleasant labor before we come into the -full possession and enjoyment of it? Under any self-denial or hardship -experienced in the performance of duty, there is a great comfort in -the knowledge that, the work being once mastered and made familiar, -any thought of drudgery connected with it disappears; and in the happy -consciousness of independence and power over difficulties one finds -great pleasure and full compensation. - -In preparing these articles for book publication, we have not attempted -to bring them together in a methodical manner, but have allowed them to -follow one another in about the order in which we were moved to write -them by the daily occurrences around us, or in reply to many letters -from discouraged or _ready-to-halt_ young housekeepers. Nor have we -presumed to give advice or instructions to old, well-established -mothers and housekeepers, who doubtless know far more than we do, -and at whose feet we would cheerfully sit for instruction. But like a -mother in the midst of her young daughters we have desired to stand, -answering such questions as they would naturally ask, pointing out -mistakes that they are likely to make, showing where the error lies, -and trying to offer a remedy; not in household affairs alone, but in -many phases of the duties that belong to the wife and mother as well as -to the housekeeper. To give some little assistance and encouragement in -every effort to make _home_ what it should be,--the happiest place on -earth,--is our earnest desire. - - EUNICE W. BEECHER. - - - - -PART I. - -MOTHERLY TALKS WITH YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS. - - - - -I. - -SYSTEM IN WORK. - - -“I HAVE been hard at work all day,” we think we hear some say; “up -stairs and down, from the cellar to the attic, looking into every nook -and corner, and ‘putting things to rights’ generally. O dear! I _wonder -what next_ those grim old housekeepers would expect me to take hold of. -I have everything in good running order, as far as I can see, and now -how I would like to take a book and curl up somewhere, out of sight and -hearing, and have one of the old-fashioned good times I used to have -before I was married. Well, I don’t care. I mean to have it, anyhow, -and just let things go on without my watching, for a while. Nora can -manage to keep the house in order, _somehow_, now I have everything in -its right place, I am sure.” - -Ah! but, my dear little woman, if you do not give daily attention to -your household affairs, in a few days, under Nora’s rule, you will find -the machinery all out of order, and be compelled again to go over the -same wearisome labor you now complain of. - -“What then am I to do? From this time on, is my life to be a perpetual -drudgery?” - -No; not if you are wise. Be patient. It is a new thing to you now. Care -does not sit lightly on young shoulders; but time and a reasonable -amount of patience will soon make the “crooked ways straight, and the -rough places smooth.” A few weeks of extra time and thought, at the -beginning of your new life, will teach you how to work methodically. -Until this lesson is fixed in your mind, it will be “uphill work”; but -persevere. Have a regular plan for each day’s work, and every step will -be easier and more natural. - -There is nothing like method and regularity to lighten labor. We have -so many poor, discouraged, repining housekeepers, chiefly because they -were not taught from the beginning to work methodically. Let this once -become a fixed habit, and almost every one can find leisure for reading -and recreation, certainly if in a position where they can delegate the -hardest, roughest labor, under suitable supervision, to a servant. - -Secure a few moments every evening to think over and arrange for -the necessary labor of the morrow. Bring before your mind just what -ought to be done, and fix the mode and time for doing it distinctly. -While dressing, the next morning, review your plan, that all through -the day it may be like a map spread out before your eyes. Of course, -many things may occur that no foresight could provide for,--sickness, -unexpected company, or interruptions past your control,--but nothing -that can wholly derange a well-digested plan for every day’s duties. - -Try this mode of working resolutely for a few months, and labor or -oversight of labor will become so nearly a second nature that you will -arrange, or perform almost instinctively, even with pleasure, that -which now seems a heavy burden, grievous to be borne. To show just what -may be done, let us take a glance at the arrangements for washing and -ironing days. - -Every housekeeper has her own way of apportioning the work of her -servants. Where there are three girls, many prefer that the cook -should take charge of the washing, leaving either waiter or chambermaid -to do the cooking Mondays and Tuesdays. If these are tolerable plain -cooks, this may answer; but, generally, on those two days the table is -less pleasantly served than during the remainder of the week. - -Now, we prefer to feel as sure of a well-cooked and well-served dinner -on “washing-day” as on any other day in the week. For that reason, we -think it a more excellent way to have the cook understand that the -kitchen, pantries, and cooking are her own especial care; from which, -until that work is done, she is not to be called to assist in anything -else. This plan, we think, insures a more orderly kitchen, cleaner -pantries, and better prepared and more regular meals, than when the -cooking is given over, two days in the week, to one less accustomed to -it. We see no good reason why, if company happens in unexpectedly, one -should not be as well prepared to serve them on Monday as on Wednesday -or Thursday. By giving the washing into the care of the second girl, we -think one may escape most of the terrors of “washing-day.” - -Early rising should be one of the well-understood rules of the house, -for the servants at least. As soon as up, on Monday morning, the -laundress’s first work is to light the fire, if the laundry is separate -from the kitchen; if not, the cook, of course, attends to that. The -furnace is then to be well shaken and cleaned out, fresh coal added, -and the ashes sifted and removed; which, if done every day, as it -should be, is but a small item comparatively. Sweeping the front -stairs, hall, doorsteps, sidewalk, and gutters comes next in order. -By this time the fire and water will be in a proper state to commence -washing; and that once begun, the laundress should be exempt from any -other duty, save to feed the furnace, until the washing is finished and -the clothes brought in and folded. - -On Tuesday the same routine, while the fire is kindling and the irons -heating; after that the laundress gives her undivided attention to her -ironing. She should be up in season to finish sweeping stairs, hall, -etc., and commence her washing and ironing by seven; and then, unless -the washing is very large, an ordinarily bright girl should have all -finished by Tuesday night, and be ready to give her full time to the -chamber-work,--making beds, sweeping, dusting, washing windows, etc., -during the remainder of the week. - -The waitress is often expected to take charge of the furnace, but we -cannot think it is desirable. If there is a fire to be lighted in the -parlor or sitting-room, to remove the ashes, wash the hearth, and have -the rooms dusted and in readiness for the family, and then put her -table in order, is all that she will be likely to do well. Besides, -after working in the cellar over the furnace, she cannot be fit to wait -on the table without taking more time to free her hair and dress from -ashes and dirt than she can spare, if you would have the breakfast -served promptly. And what is more disgusting than an untidy waitress? -The waitress should have charge of parlor, dining-room, silver, -answering the bell, and on Monday and Tuesday do the chamber-work. - -Where but two servants are kept,--and we are inclined to think the -fewer servants the better the work is done,--of course the two must -divide the work, each assisting in the washing and ironing, but the -cook still retaining the charge of the meals. - - - - -II. - -MARCH. - - -THE morning sun shines brightly, the air is mild and balmy; you go -about your early cares with a cheerful spirit; and, after seeing -that the “pickings up,” the brushing and dusting, which are a daily -necessity, are faithfully performed, you sit down to your sewing, your -books, or your writing in a satisfied and comfortable state of mind. -But in a few hours the sky grows dark; grim and threatening clouds -obscure the sun; the wind sweeps round the house with long, wailing -moans, or short, fierce gusts, while you shiveringly draw the warm -breakfast shawl closer about you, and find that you have suddenly -passed into a far less genial atmosphere than you enjoyed in the -morning. - -March may come in a very mild and gentle manner, but don’t trust it. -It is “fooling you.” Its smiles are quickly followed by frowns, and -the bright, warm sunlight all too soon will be forced to give place -to fierce winds and drifting snows. We are quite as well pleased -when this, the first month of spring, appears in its own proper -character,--windy, stormy, and bitter cold,--for then we hope that it -will make its exit in a gentler mood. - -Yes, this is truly _March_,--cold, raw, and blustering March,--which, -with the early days of April, before the winds have fairly died out, is -the terror of all careful housekeepers,--insuring an abundance of extra -work; for its winds and storms will force an entrance into every part -of the house, however securely guarded. No burglar’s alarm can promise -safety from this insidious foe. Windows, pictures, and furniture, -so nicely cleaned and polished but a few hours since, require a -repetition of the same work many times a day. No month in the whole -year demands such incessant use of dusters, brushes, and brooms,--such -unslumbering watchfulness. - -Why not clean once a day and then let the dust be till next morning? - -Because, if allowed to remain, it soils your hands and dresses, spoils -your pictures, finds lodgment in your finely carved statuary, or -settles in the graceful designs or rich upholstery of your furniture. -Once snugly secreted in woollen or plush, dust is not easily removed, -but becomes the favorite resort for moths, affording abundant material -for all their wants. There is no month in the whole year which so -completely makes you the slave of the broom and dusting-brush. If -there is a carpenter ingenious enough to build a house so tight that -it can defy the searching winds of March, he would most certainly be a -universal favorite among all housekeepers. Under the doors, from the -top, bottom, and sides of the windows, in at the key-holes,--everywhere -the dust finds an entrance. No table, chair, or shelf may be touched -without showing the presence of this subtle enemy. Each book, picture, -or article of dress acknowledges its power. Was it not in the month -of March that the _plague of dust_ tormented the Egyptians? Unless -some learned interpreter of the Bible can prove the contrary, we are -inclined to accept this idea. There is no other season of the year when -one feels so little courage, for we cannot “rest from our labors.” -However faithfully the work may be done, an hour will destroy all trace -of our industry. Then why attempt to do it? Why not let all cleaning -cease till March gives place to its betters, and then have a general -purification? - -If there were no other reason for patient continuance in well-doing, -notwithstanding all discouragements, the injury done to carpets and -furniture would be a good and sufficient one. With the strong March -winds the dust is so thoroughly sifted into the threads of carpets, -and into the moldings and ornaments of furniture, that if not very -often removed, it would be almost impossible ever to do it. The sharp -grains of dust would sink into the carpets, and the friction of walking -over them would wear out the material more in this month than in any -two months of the year. Heavy brocatelle curtains and delicate lace are -very easily defaced and injured by the dust, if not often shaken and -freed from the constant accumulation. - -It cannot be helped; through all this windy, unmanageable season, -frequent usings of dusters and brushes are inevitable, and, if -thoroughly applied, aside from the economy of it, will greatly lighten -the labor of the spring house-cleaning. - -A good beating with a furniture _whip_ (two or three ratans, lightly -braided or twisted together, and the ends united in a handle, found at -any house-furnishing store) is an excellent thing to dislodge dust from -chairs, sofas, table-covers, mattresses, etc., but the beating must -be followed by the use of the feather-brush over all, and an old silk -handkerchief for polished or highly varnished furniture. - -Windows are very difficult to keep bright and clean at this season of -the year. If there is rain or snow, it is usually followed by high -winds, which dry the streets and very soon cover the damp windows with -a storm of dust,--settling into the molding and around the sash to -such a degree that it will require much time and hard work to remove; -and even while washing them, the dust is still swept over the windows. -It is wise, when windows are so quickly and easily defaced, to wet a -clean, smooth cloth in a little whiskey or alcohol, and cleanse the -glass with it. It removes the dirt much more thoroughly and gives a -better polish to the glass than water can, and evaporates so quickly -that the dust will not so readily adhere. This may be liable to -objections on the ground of economy; but, for three or four weeks it is -much more effective, and makes the work so much easier, that we are -inclined to think it is not extravagant. Of course it must be used with -judgment. A little will be sufficient. - -Now, more than any other part of the year, the ashes must be removed -from the cellar, if you have a furnace, faithfully every morning. If -allowed to accumulate, a heavy wind will send them up through the flues -and registers, to settle in the carpets or furniture, and do more -injury than the dust, because the alkali in the ashes will eat the -texture and injure the colors. - -Then, again, it is important that on washing-days some attention should -be paid to the wind. It is a great trial to a methodical housekeeper to -put off the week’s washing for a day or two. It seems to derange all -the work planned for other days, and makes one feel unsettled, as if -everything was sadly out of joint. It is not at all pleasant to consent -to such innovation, but March is a tyrant, and in the end it is better -to submit to its caprices. To see all your clothes on the line at the -mercy of a real March wind, would be worse than to defer the washing -and wait for a milder day. The clothes will be more injured and worn by -one day’s snapping on the line, in a very high wind, than in weeks of -wear; and unless one has a good, roomy attic with windows at each end -to admit free air, it is wise, if not agreeable, to put the clothes in -soak, after washing, in plenty of clear water, and wait for the calm, -or defer the entire washing to that propitious moment. - -Yet a good, brisk March wind, with an unclouded sky, has its -excellences. There is no better time to put blankets, carriage-robes, -and heavy winter garments out to air. If not left out too long, such -heavy articles will not be liable to so much injury, by whipping on the -lines, as cotton and linen, and it is an excellent and effective way to -free these cumbrous garments from dust and moths. - -These are only a few of the reasons for the necessity of more than -usual vigilance in this stormy month of March; they are but _hints_ -to call attention to the subject. Your own good sense, kept awake by -the wild wind that is shaking the windows as we write, and bending the -tall masts beyond, will enable you to carry them out more minutely and -practically than we shall attempt at present to do. - - - - -III. - -SPRING LABOR. - - -MOTHS.--The first few days of April are too near kin to March to -warrant any decided steps toward the regular spring house-cleaning; -but it is quite time now that special attention be paid to _moths_ and -their characteristic destructiveness. - -In furnace-heated houses, moths are occasionally found in mid-winter; -but they are only the advance guard of the main army, and do little -harm, save by the annoying reminder of what one has cause to fear in -spring. - -In April they will begin to show themselves very much in earnest, and -are seen too often for your comfort, particularly after the gas or -lamp is lighted. If an expert, you may destroy many, as, attracted by -the bright light which lures them to destruction, they fly around you; -yet enough remain to keep you constantly on the lookout. We know of no -remedy, when moths have once gained entrance to a house, but ceaseless -watchfulness. They often deposit their eggs in the fret-work and open -spaces in cornices, as well as in woollens and furs, and therefore all -such hiding-places should be carefully searched. In high-studded rooms -it is difficult to reach these sheltered nooks, and therefore in them -moths too often find a secure retreat. But although difficult, it is -not impossible to dislodge them, even from these high places. A tall -step-ladder, with a little care and some one to steady it at the base, -can easily be mounted, and from this height you readily gain access to -your enemies. If the carving is deep and intricate, take a quill, and -with the feather-end brush out these holes into a dust-pan; follow this -brushing with a wet cloth wrapped round a pointed stick. It takes time, -care, and patience, but is very necessary. In houses that are not often -painted, you will probably find large quantities of dust and lint that -have accumulated and settled, from sweeping, in the cornices. In this -the moths deposit their eggs; and, when hatched, the worm which eats -your garments may be found here, snugly rolled in its thin covering, or -perhaps just ready to fly through your house, depositing its eggs for -the next generation of moths. - -A new house, left for months unoccupied, or an old house long -untenanted, it is said, will surely be overrun with moths. For this we -do not vouch, but are quite inclined to credit it. Our first experience -of the plague of moths was on taking possession of a house, almost new, -that had stood empty some months,--a dearly bought experience, the -debt for which is not fully cancelled after more than fourteen years. -In all the cornice ornaments we found large quantities of the eggs and -worms snugly laid to sleep, till the warm spring sun should rouse them -to begin their mischievous expeditions among our furs, blankets, and -garments. Many were fully developed, and flying about in search of some -choice place to deposit their eggs. - -The spring and summer are their busiest time; and as soon as it is -warm enough to dispense with furs, heavy shawls, and woollen garments, -these should be well shaken and brushed, then hung on the clothes-line -and beaten with the furniture whip, every spot or stain cleansed, and -repairs attended to before being done up and put away for the summer. -Each housekeeper has probably her own theory as to the best way for -packing up such articles as moths injure. Some put pepper, camphor, -cedar-chips, sandal-wood, or moth-powder among the articles to be -stored away, and then sew them up closely in old linen, or cover them -with two or three thicknesses of paper, lapping one over the other, -leaving no holes, and then seal the paper up with mucilage. We prefer -the paper wrappings, but feel a little safer if we sprinkle Poole’s -moth-powder over the articles before sealing. - -We have been told that strips of cloth dipped in kerosene, rolled -up and placed among flannels, furs, etc., which should then be shut -tight in a cedar trunk or close drawer, will surely prevent moths from -injuring them, destroying the eggs or such moth worms as are already in -possession. - -This appears sensible, inasmuch as moths are said to be repelled by any -pungent, disagreeable smell. And surely, if that be so, kerosene would -be most deadly. - -In carpets, moths generally seek the corners and secluded places. For -that reason it is essential that in sweeping, at all seasons of the -year, one should see that great attention is paid to the corners and -edges of carpets. Never attempt to sweep there with a common broom. -You cannot get at the corners. Take a whisk-broom or a round, pointed -brush, such as is used to clean buttoned furniture, called a _furniture -button-brush_, and with it clean out the corners where the carpet is -turned in. Have close at hand a pointed stick, which, with a cloth -wrapped about it, will enable you to pry into every nook thoroughly. -Every few weeks it is well to draw the tacks in the corners a little -way, and, turning back the carpet on to a thick paper or old cloth, -give the edges a faithful brushing. It is under and near these corners -that moths love to secrete their eggs. - - - - -IV. - -SUNSHINE AND FRESH AIR. - - -FEW realize how dependent we are on sunshine and fresh air for good -health and pleasant, cheerful homes. When shown into a dark and dismal -parlor,--blinds all closed and heavy curtains dropped to exclude -light,--and creeping forward in search of a seat, fearing, each step, -to stumble over a chair or upset a table loaded with small wares on -exhibition, we always feel suffocated, as if in a vault among dead -men’s bones. And when the servant, after calling her mistress, returns -and opens the shutters just far enough to allow one small ray of “light -divine” to struggle through, what a relief it is! How we long to spring -forward, throw back the curtains, swing the blinds wide open, and -give admittance to the full glory of the free, glad sunbeams. But no! -Health and comfort must be sacrificed rather than expose the costly -carpet and rich curtains. Only so much light as will enable our friend -to recognize us may be allowed to enter, and after a few moments’ -conversation, as cold and spiritless as the room itself, how glorious -seem the clear sky and pure air as we leave the house! We are so -chilled and benumbed by our short tarry in those prison-like parlors, -that it has penetrated to the heart, and we are not quite sure that we -feel any great affection for the friend from whom we have just parted, -until, having walked a few moments, we regain life and freshness by a -full bath in the fresh breezes and invigorating sunshine. - -Strange that any will deprive themselves of blessings so rich, so free, -and health-giving for a mere fancy,--particularly when we find that the -richest and most beautiful fabrics are generally those which will bear -exposure to open windows and pure light. - -That perfect ventilation and abundance of light and sun are -indispensable to a healthy atmosphere all over the house, should be -understood as one of the principles of good housekeeping. Servants -are generally careless in airing the rooms committed to their care. -Bedrooms, dining rooms, kitchen, and pantries are seldom sufficiently -ventilated; and it behooves a housekeeper to maintain a constant -watchfulness against such remissness. As soon as you are dressed, -throw open the window, take off the bedclothes, spread them neatly -across two chairs set in the draught,--taking care that the ends do -not drag on the floor. Raise up the mattress; double it like a bent -bow on the under-bed, or palliasse, that the air may circulate freely -through and around it. Beat up the pillows and bolster, and throw them -across a chair near the open window. Some hang them out of the window. -All right, if you are careful first to brush the sill free from the -dust that will, of course, accumulate there. When ready to leave the -chamber, open the doors through from one room to another, even if some -rooms have not been used; but be careful, in cold weather, to close -the doors leading to the halls, that parlors and halls be not made -uncomfortable by too much draught. - -Children, boys and girls alike, should be instructed never to leave -their bedrooms without at least throwing back the bedclothes and -raising the windows; and guests in a family, one would suppose, will -do this for their own comfort; but it is well that every housekeeper -should be sure that it is done before she goes to the kitchen or -breakfast-room. It is particularly desirable that our children become -accustomed to this kind of care and attention to their sleeping-rooms; -for if the habit is fixed in early youth, when absent from a mother’s -care, in school, college, or business, and compelled to board, whatever -other discomforts they may be subjected to, they can secure for -themselves well-ventilated beds and sleeping-rooms. If, from extra -morning duties or ill health, you are not able to attend to this part -of the chamber-work yourself, then, as soon as the rooms are all -vacated, the chambermaid should go to them at once, taking with her the -chamber pail and cloths, and, first opening the windows and putting -bedclothes and mattresses to air, as above mentioned, should empty all -slops, wash out the washstands and all pertaining to them,--pitchers, -soap-cup, tooth- and nail-brush holders,--gather up all dirty clothes -and towels, and put them into the basket, or, if wet, hang up to dry. -By the time this is faithfully done, the chambermaid will be ready to -go to her own breakfast, leaving the windows open, unless in stormy -weather, and the beds unmade. Keep strict watch that the servants do -not fail to air their own rooms and spread open their beds when they -come down to their early morning’s work. Never fear to open chamber -windows in stormy weather. If the rain or snow beats in badly, drop -the window from the top a little way, or spread an old bit of bagging -or oil-cloth before the window to protect the carpet; but in spite of -wind or weather, have a full current of fresh air pass through your -bedchambers every morning. Once a week mattresses must be thoroughly -brushed with a whisk-broom, and the tufts or buttons that tack them -together cleaned with a round pointed brush, called a button-brush, so -that no lint or dust can lodge about them to shelter moths. When free -from lint and dirt, throw the mattress across a table, or spread on the -floor an old sheet kept for that purpose, and lay it on that. In the -same manner brush the under-bed; then turn it up and with a wet cloth -wipe off the inside of the bedstead, raising up the slats that no lint -may remain lodged there. By such care you will save much trouble from -moths and bugs. It is well to attend to this on Friday, or whichever -day may be set apart for sweeping, as lint may be dropped on the -carpet, and should be at once removed. - - - - -V. - -HOUSE-CLEANING. - - -“LAST year I thought _house-cleaning_ would be ‘real fun.’ I had never -before taken the entire charge of such extensive operations, and -thought, in my simplicity, that I would show the old ladies how a smart -young housekeeper would walk through the fiery furnace, with not even -the smell of fire upon her garments. But I little dreamed what I had -undertaken. I found out, however, before the ‘fun’ was ended, to my -entire satisfaction, and now, in this my second year of housekeeping, -look forward to the spring cleaning with the greatest repugnance; -gladly enduring all the cold, the winds, and storms of early spring, -because they postpone the evil day. But now milder weather and -warmer suns are upon us, and this great nuisance may be no longer -deferred. How I dread it! No regularity, all rules abolished, servants -rebellious, husband--to put it mildly--_uncomfortable_; baby cross, and -I--the crossest of all? O dear! What shall I do?” - -What shall you do? Take it easy. _Patience_, my child, the oldest -panacea, is still the sovereign cure for such trials. But why “borrow -trouble”? For weeks you have, in imagination, been carrying this burden -which you so much dread. Wait till the proper time comes to take it -up. Give each hour its own work; do not permit yourself to groan over -that which belongs to the next; and you will find the heaviest and most -disagreeable labor, if arranged and performed systematically, glide -smoothly through your hands. When it is finished, you will look back -in amused surprise at the “bugbear” you had conjured up for your own -torment. - -True, what is generally understood as regular “spring house-cleaning” -is not a pleasant operation; but is it absolutely necessary that this -important part of household duties should be made a terror to all in -the house? We think not. When furnace, grates, and stoves, have been -in constant use for six or seven months, and gas or lamps are burning -many hours each night, a very thorough house-cleaning is indispensable. -No care can prevent smoke, ashes, and gas defacing walls and ceiling, -and finding a lodgment in carpets and furniture, all over the house. -And it is necessary that the warm spring days should be devoted to -cleaning and renovating; but certainly not to the exclusion of real -home comforts and pleasures, while this work is in progress. It is -folly to commence by putting the whole house into disorder; displacing -everything, leaving no room in habitable condition, that by and by you -may, from this utter desolation, bring order out of confusion. - -It is best to commence with the cellar, and the first thing to be done, -after seeing that the coal-bins are in order, is to have your coal -for the year put in. It is usually as cheap, and often cheaper, in -the spring than in the fall. The coal safely housed, have the furnace -emptied and put in thorough repair. Remove all the ashes. If you have -an ash-vault, or bin containing the ashes of the whole winter, you -will require a man to do it; but if--which is much wiser--the ashes -have been sifted and removed every day, it is no burden, and but a -few minutes’ work. Then all bits of waste boards, boxes, and barrels, -no longer usable, should be chopped fine and stored with the kindling -wood. If dust and cobwebs have been overlooked, brush them down very -carefully; sweep the cellar bottom, and, if it is of stone or cemented, -scrub it clean. If all this has been done every week, as it should -be,--save the putting in coal and repairing the furnace,--it will be -only a piece of regular work; but it must be done before any other -cleaning is attempted, else the coal dust and ashes will penetrate -every part of the house, and render all your labor useless. No door or -window can be shut so closely that they will not force an entrance. Be -careful to shut the “registers” from the furnace in every room, before -moving ashes or coal. - -The cellar being in order, the next step is to the attic. If it has -been properly attended to through the winter, it is no hard task to -make it fresh and clean, unless you allow it to be made the “catch-all” -for every kind of useless trash. If not “hard finished,” the walls -should be nicely whitewashed or calcimined, after the attic has been -swept and dusted. This done, scrub the floor faithfully; polish the -windows, and arrange neatly all that properly belongs to the attic. If -you have pieces of carpeting stored there, they should be taken into -the back yard, well brushed, and spread on the grass or hung on the -line, the first thing, before the cleaning is begun. - -The cellar and attic in order, you are ready for the upper chambers. If -you can afford it, it is well to secure four good house-cleaners, and -by putting two in one chamber and two in another, keeping up a quiet, -but vigilant superintendence of both parties, you will find, if the -work is well contrived, and each part arranged in regular succession, -it will be done more quickly, more effectually, and with more economy, -than to endeavor to drag through with little help. - -Ingrain and three-ply carpets must be lifted every year, and that is -the first thing to be done. Brussels and velvet do not need to be -taken up oftener than every two years; while heavy Wiltons, Axminster, -and Moquettes should not be removed oftener than every three years. -The texture is so firm, no dust works through to the carpet lining -beneath, and faithful sweeping and thorough use of the “carpet-sweeper” -will remove the dust and moth’s eggs. Extra care will be required to -clean and brush in corners, and wherever the carpets are turned in and -nailed; and they must also be protected, while the walls, ceiling, and -wood-work are being cleaned, by a heavy drugget spread over them, and -moved from place to place as the cleaning progresses. - -When washing painted walls and ceilings, take care in drying them that -they are wiped in straight lines, from top to bottom, and not unevenly, -or in circles; for however clean you may wash the paint, careless -wiping will give it a streaked and untidy appearance. - -Brush wall-paper carefully with a feather duster, and then pin a large -towel tightly to a clean soft broom, and placing it up to the ceiling, -bring it, with an even pressure, in a straight line down to the -mop-board or casing. Proceed in this way until you have gone over the -entire paper. It will be necessary to change the towel when it looks -soiled. If this work is well done, the paper will look almost as fresh -as new. - -In cleaning door-knobs, bell-pulls, or speaking-trumpets, cut a hole -in a piece of oil-silk or soft oil-cloth, and put it round the knob or -bell-pull, etc., to protect the paper or paint from being soiled. - -We have no room to carry these suggestions further at present, and -leave your good, earnest, common-sense to practice and improve upon -them. - - - - -VI. - -WASHING-DAY. - - -“IF it were not for the washing, housekeeping would lose half its -terror. But I rise every Monday morning in a troubled and unhappy -state of mind, for it is _washing-day_! The breakfast will surely -be a failure, coffee muddy, meat or hash uncooked or burnt to a -coal, everything untidy on the table, and the servants on the verge -of rebellion. With a meek and subdued countenance, with fear and -trembling, lest some unlucky word of mine may infringe upon their -dignity and cause them to leave before the washing is finished, I go -softly about the house.” - -This ought not so to be. In the first place, if you allow yourself -to be kept thus in bondage to your servants, you destroy all hope of -comfort. Let them once see that you fear to give them offence, and from -that hour they are your tyrants. - -Define, distinctly, the appropriate duties of each; but with this -proviso, that in emergencies they will be required to lend a helping -hand in any department where their services are needed. Let them -understand, unmistakably, what your rules are,--for you cannot manage a -household without well-digested laws and regulations,--then kindly, but -firmly, make them know that you will have no infringement upon those -rules. - -“I wonder how long any girl, my Bridget, for instance, would stay, were -I to take such independent ground.” - -Probably not long, if she has learned that she can intimidate you; and -once aware of that, the sooner she takes her leave the better for your -future peace,--that is, if you will be taught by this experience to -begin right with her successor. Those servants who fully recognize the -lady as their _mistress_, in something more than name, are generally -the most respectful and reliable. - -Never allow a girl to give a disrespectful answer or manifest -irritability, simply because the work for some days in the week -may be more distasteful than in others; and never permit them to -_threaten_ to leave you without insisting that the threat shall be -carried into effect, unless an ample apology is given; for, if passed -over submissively, it will be repeated whenever the girl’s temper is -ruffled. Not for our own selfish comfort alone, but for the good of all -who are compelled to employ servants, should we defend our own rights -and position; not till there is concerted action and organized rules -that will define the duties and rights of mistress and maid, and these -rules strictly enforced, will this plague, which leaves us at the mercy -of our servants, be stayed. - -And now let us see if there is, really, any good reason why -washing-day should be so full of terror. If one is feeble, it is not -easy, _nothing_ is; but to a strong, healthy person, it ought not -to be burdensome, even if one is obliged to do it one’s own self, -particularly with the aid of all the “modern improvements.” The -apportionment of duties we have already considered, in Chapter I. - -Twenty years ago the tubs and wash-benches were to be brought from the -cellar or area, all the water pumped, and often carried some distance, -heated in a boiler, then poured into the tubs, and every article wrung -out by hand. Then, in the city, tubs were carried out into the streets -and the dirty suds emptied into the gutter. But there was little -complaint then of hard work. What would the girl of the present day -think if expected to work under such disadvantages? - -Now we have hot and cold water in the laundry, wringers, “tubs set,” -generally, which can be emptied at pleasure, without a step, making -the washing of a medium-sized family not as laborious as the Friday -sweeping of a large house. With one or two servants in the house, to -divide the work, washing is not and should not be considered a hardship. - -Put the clothes to soak overnight, rubbing soap on the collars, -wristbands, bindings, etc., of each article. We have found Babbitt’s -soap very satisfactory, safe, and much more economical than most soap. -It is excellent for bleaching. Cut up several cakes in sufficient water -to dissolve them, and let it boil till the soap is all dissolved, then -pour it into a wooden pail, or old butter-tub that is well cleaned, and -when cold it will be nice soft soap, and keep well as long as it lasts. -This is a good way to prepare any soap for soaking or boiling clothes. -But it is more economical to have a cake of hard soap, to use for the -dirty spots, while washing. - -Rub soft soap on the dirtiest parts of each garment, when you put them -to soak, and just cover them with water. Table linen should be soaked -in a separate tub, and washed first; the fine clothes, sheets, and -pillow-cases put in another, and stockings and coarse things in a third -tub. - -Early Monday morning wring out the clothes from the water in which they -were soaked, and prepare a fresh, clean hot suds. Table linen and all -fine or starched clothes should be washed and hung out first, that they -may be dried before night. If any are left out overnight, it should -be the stockings and underclothes, bath-sheets, and dish-towels; the -latter must be soaked by themselves, and washed in water that has been -used for _nothing else_. - -When a boilerful has been washed, rub soap on all bindings, collars, -etc., replace the clothes in the boiler, fill it with cold or lukewarm -water, and set over the range to boil not over twenty minutes; then -pour all into a tub, adding cold water enough to make it comfortable -to the hand, when ready to put them through the second suds. While -the first set of clothes are boiling, of course those for a second -boilerful are being washed and ready to be put in as soon as the first -is removed, that no time may be lost. When the second is over the fire, -get the first through the next suds and the two rinsing waters, which -should be blued and ready as quick as possible. Do not be sparing of -rinsing water. Have your largest tubs two thirds full, and put in but -a few pieces at a time, so that each article may have unobstructed -benefit of a large body of water, and all the soap may be removed. -Wring and shake out and put into the second rinsing. Shake out each -thing from the last rinsing, snapping them smooth; lay them loose into -the clean clothes-basket, and hang out to dry before you begin on the -second boiler. Careless rinsing and wringing will soon turn clothes -yellow. When two girls assist about washing, one should rinse and hang -out while the other is washing. It greatly expedites the work, of -course, if they do not spend half the time talking; but it must be a -very large wash that, even with but one at the tubs, is not all on the -line before two o’clock. - -Refined borax, in the proportion of one large handful of the powder to -ten gallons of boiling water, is said to save nearly one half the soap, -and make the clothes beautifully white and clear. It is a neutral salt -and will not injure the fabric. For laces, cambrics, etc., an extra -quantity is necessary. The wash-women of Belgium and Holland, so famous -for the beauty of their work, use borax instead of soda. - -Much more might be said on this topic if space would permit, perhaps of -little interest to old experienced housekeepers, but our talks are more -especially intended for those just entering upon the unknown sphere of -domestic care. - - - - -VII. - -PUTTING CLOTHES TO SOAK. - - -“A YOUNG housekeeper” is troubled at the idea of “putting clothes to -soak” overnight. She is sure it must take two or three hours to do it, -and asks, “How is one to do this, who lives in the country, where the -‘modern improvements’ of hot water and cold and stationary tubs are -not found, except in the houses of wealthy families; but where all the -water must be pumped or drawn by hand, and carried to the tubs by one -who has all the work to do for husband and family, and perhaps keeps a -few boarders beside? To bring the water, soap the clothes, as they are -put in the tub, would occupy two or three hours of the Sabbath; for, as -you speak of washing Monday, we infer that you mean to soak the clothes -Sunday.” - -Yes, Sunday morning or evening, as is most convenient. We think -it--like getting breakfast, washing dishes, making beds, etc., on -Sunday--one of the necessary items of household labor. True, some -prefer to do this Saturday evening, but too long soaking yellows the -clothes, and beside only part of them can be collected Saturday. -Some also soak their clothes a half-hour Monday morning, but, in our -judgment, very little is gained by that. We would, however, by no means -advocate the mode we have advised, if _two or three hours_ of the -Sabbath or of any other day in the week must be given to it. Twenty -minutes or, if a large wash, half an hour, is abundant time. - -This young housekeeper evidently imagines that we must be giving -_theoretical_ advice, and not such as can be successfully carried into -practice. But in this, as in all that we have offered, we speak only -of “what we know, and testify of that which we have seen” and done. -Ten years at the West, at a time when all “modern improvements” were -unknown, and when we were so situated that the work for husband and -little ones, and often several boarders, was, of necessity, done with -one pair of hands, where the water was all to be _drawn_, not pumped, -with now and then a “shake” or “chill,” to fill up the measure of -the week’s work (and fever and ague, “out West,” in those days, was -a genuine article), compelled us to economize time, if not labor. We -never found _two or three hours to spend_ in putting clothes to soak. -When supper was over, _Saturday evening_, dishes washed, and babies to -sleep, the water was drawn, tubs filled and covered, to keep the water -free from dust, and, except the bedding and garments, to be changed -Sabbath morning, all the dirty clothes accumulated through the week -were “sorted” and laid in piles on the table, in the “wash-shed,” -covered over with the clothes-baskets, ready to be soaped and put into -water. This last may be done before dressing for church or, as we much -prefer, before retiring, Sabbath evening. - -Such lessons, taught by the best schoolmaster in the world, -_necessity_, are often far more valuable than any we can learn in -later life, and under more easy circumstances. Of course no man, whose -labor ends with the close of the day, who deserves the honored name -of husband (_house-bond_), would need to be asked to put his strong -arm to the work, so far as to draw the water and fill the tubs, after -tea, in the twilight of Saturday evening; while the wife and mother, -whose work never ends till all are sleeping, is putting the little -folks to bed and getting everything in readiness for breakfast Sunday -morning. But often the nature of the husband’s employment deprives him, -by necessity, of the pleasure of assisting his wife. Then, if without -servants, there is no other way but for her to prove “woman’s equality -with man” by doing it herself. After all, there are many harder things -than drawing the good clear water from the well. - -Now, with water in the tubs, clothes laid in separate parcels, plenty -of soap dissolved, or a nice barrel of soft soap close at hand, does -not our “young housekeeper” think the clothes could be soaped and put -into the tub in less than half an hour? Would there not be plenty of -time after breakfast, before dressing for church, to perform this -necessary labor as we think it? Or if making beds or uneasy children -consumed too much time in the morning, how long would it take to throw -on a wrapper just before retiring, when all is quiet at night, and have -the clothes all at soak? The answer to these questions depends on two -things,--are you an _early riser_? have you such established system -about all your labors as to secure a _time_ as well as a _place_ for -everything? - -There is one other point that may as well receive attention while we -are on this subject. - -Many are in the habit of changing bed-linen Saturday night, to avoid -what may seem like extra labor Sunday morning, in accordance with their -ideas of a strict observance of the Sabbath. We cannot think this -wise. It certainly does not meet our ideas of that “cleanliness that -is next to godliness.” We think it should be a matter of principle -to have everything as pure, as sweet, and clean Sabbath morning as -is possible. All one’s clothes are put on fresh on that morning; -table-cloths and napkins come right from the drawer. If these are all -brought out spotless in their purity, in honor of the Lord’s day, then -why should not our beds also rejoice in the whitest of linen? We think -it a grateful and appropriate way of beginning our Sabbath; and if the -bed-linen is laid out Saturday night, as it should always be, we do not -see how it can occupy more time to put on clean things than those which -are tumbled and soiled. We think the objections to it are of that kind -spoken of as being “wise above that which is written.” - - - - -VIII. - -PATIENT CONTINUANCE IN WELL-DOING. - - -AFTER one of those days of perplexity and annoyance that will -occasionally come to all housekeepers, old or young, order having at -last been restored, and peace beginning to dawn out of the confusion, -we took up the pen to begin our weekly talk with young friends. But -pausing for a moment’s rest and deliberation, our thoughts took form -and life, and led us into an imaginary conversation with a young -housekeeper, passing though the same trials we had just been battling -with. We think we cannot do better than send the thoughts and scenes -that rose before our mind, as they so truly illustrate our idea of the -necessity of constant watchfulness combined with “patient continuance -in well-doing.” We think most of our readers, who have just begun -life’s cares, will have already learned that imagination does not, in -this case, equal the reality. - -SCENE.--A lady’s chamber, and the occupant in tears. Enter a _Motherly -Talker_. - ---Why! what can be the matter? You, so bright and cheerful usually, in -despondency and tears! Some great trouble must have befallen you! - -“I am completely discouraged! I ought never to have undertaken -housekeeping. It is evident I shall never make a good housekeeper, and -I _will not_ be a poor one. After all my boasting when I first began, -I am ashamed to tell you now how miserably I have failed. But ‘open -confession is good for the soul,’ and when you have had the whole -story, say if you think I am worth the teaching.” - -Why, how humble our little woman has become! Some “lion in the way,” -and, doubtless, of your own creating, has disheartened you for the -present, we think. Tell us, without hesitation, what troubles you, and -we will see if we cannot find a “silver lining” to this cloud, as it is -easy to do in most cases. - -“Well, listen, and tell me, when you learn how I have been blinded, if -I have not cause to hide in the valley of humiliation. - -“I have labored hard to train my Bridget, to the best of my ability, -and, with all her inefficiencies, have felt and boasted that she was -really _neat_. That being the case, I felt myself capable of keeping so -strict a watch of her weak points, that she could not hide her mistakes -so deftly but that I would find and try to teach her to rectify them. -I had, at the commencement of my new life, arranged everything in the -nicest order; and having started the machinery, Bridget seeming so -ready to carry out my rules, I was confident that, by keeping up a -careful supervision, I could not fail, and was in a fair way to become -a bright and shining light among my sister housekeepers. - -“Well, Bridget left me yesterday. I didn’t much care. There would be no -trouble in replacing her, and doubtless securing a more capable girl. -Beside, a few days’ work all to myself would be no hardship; for had -I not been so faithful in my oversight of all domestic affairs, that -everything about _my_ house must be in perfect order? - -“I was in the habit of visiting kitchen and store-closet daily. The -sink seemed clean, the range well polished, the boiler bright, and -dishes all in order, and making quite a pretty display on the shelves. -Ah! if I had handled each article, looked _into_ each pot or kettle, -instead of being content to see only the _outside_, I should have -soon learned that all was falsely fair! Why! everything was slippery, -greasy, dirty, or leaking, except those which were placed in the front -rank, _for show_. I am sick and lame from just this morning’s cleaning -and scrubbing, and am not half through even the kitchen. Half the -dishes that looked so nicely on the shelves are ‘nicked’ or cracked; -holes burnt in the saucepans, and bits of old cloth drawn through -to stop the leak,--who can tell how long they have remained there, -gathering filth, or from what dirty rag they were torn! - -“How often I have praised Bridget for keeping the kitchen coffee and -tea pot so bright. But when I took them down this morning, lo! the -coffee-pot was minus a handle, and the teapot bottomless! They were -placed with the perfect side in sight on the shelves, and the broken -parts wholly concealed; while my best things were doubtless used in -the kitchen. If I must take up each article, day by day, to be sure of -their condition, I could do nothing else through the day. - -“In the cellar a barrel stood, in its proper place, filled with -kindling. I reached my hand in hastily to get paper to start the fire, -and quickly snatched it out, cut and bleeding. There were only a few -papers on the top of the barrel, and all the rest of its contents was -broken glass and china! - -“Then my store-closet is kept locked, and the key in my own pocket. -I have always handed out everything--sugar, spices, sweetmeats, -etc.--myself, yet I find much sugar, sweetmeats, spices, and jellies -missing! Now that my suspicions are aroused, I see what has gone. If _I -keep the keys myself_, and yet am not safe from pilfering, what can I -do? But other housekeepers have not this trouble: where lies the secret -of their success, and my most humiliating failure?” - -Now, although this is simply an imaginary scene, there is far more -truth than fiction in it. Many housekeepers of late years have often -had the same experience, and worse. This evil is growing upon us -rapidly. If deliverance comes not to us,--perhaps through China,--our -housekeepers have a gloomy prospect. The secret of apparent success -with some often arises from the fact, that keeping two or three girls -employed, when one leaves without warning, those who remain are -expected to manage as best they can, till the vacant place is filled. -In these cases the mistress does not see with her own eyes all that -takes place behind the scenes. Such “ignorance is bliss,” perhaps, but -certainly not the best economy. Whereas, if housekeepers are left alone -without any help for a few days, and are obliged to take the work into -their own hands, they learn several unexpected lessons which are not -easy to forget. They see the evils which have been quietly accumulating -under the carelessness or deceit of servants, and will not be so -readily blinded the second time. - -When you have servants about you, it is not possible to handle every -article, to look into every corner, daily. One might as well make -no pretence of keeping “help.” And while only a slavery of the most -exact and unfailing watchfulness can save you from many leaks and much -extravagant waste, yet, by this course, you may lose, by the constant -irritation of disposition, more than you can save pecuniarily. The -only safe way is to make things as secure as possible; first, as to -the character of servants when you engage them; secondly, by way of -guarding them from the temptation of open closets and immunity from -oversight. - -So long as servants can and do forge “characters” or “recommendations,” -or use skeleton keys,--and many do this,--we are greatly at their -mercy, unless we look the evil squarely in the face, and attempt to -find a remedy. We are told that to speak plainly of these things--which -are truly of frequent occurrence--we open the eyes of the servants as -well as their mistresses, and tempt them to do the wrong which, but -for the speaking of it, they never would have thought of. Let no one -believe this. It is entirely a mistaken notion. Our ladies have no -idea how thoroughly posted their servants are--even some of the most -trusted--in every evil of this kind. A better way is to meet any such -dangers openly; not willingly stumble along blindfold, lest we should -see what we cannot help fearing is going on in our midst. _See it_, and -try to overcome it by greater caution. Never, under any consideration, -take a written “recommendation” of a girl. Go to the lady who is said -to have written the “character,” and learn the truth. That destroys all -danger from forged certificates. If it is thought too much trouble, -then you must not complain of imposition. - -Again, if you judge best to keep locked closets and store-rooms, there -are many patent locks, not expensive, which no “pass” or “skeleton -key” can open. Put such on your store-closet and places which you most -desire to guard, and you at once secure yourself against another evil. - -And “patient continuance in well-doing,” frequent, careful, but -kindly oversight, thorough but not suspicious inspection of kitchen, -store-rooms, closets, etc., will lessen many others; the remainder -we must endure until, among all the reformatory movements of this -progressive age, some good spirit shall effect a deliverance from -the heaviest burden that oppresses the housekeeper,--_unfaithful, -inefficient servants_. - - - - -IX. - -PREPARING FOR THE COUNTRY. - - -JUNE, the month of roses, is near, and all who are compelled to live a -large part of the year in the city are looking forward to some weeks -of rest from ever-ringing bells, interminable flights of stairs, and -all the wear and tear that belong peculiarly to a city life. But there -is much to be done before you can safely close the doors and leave -the house and its content under lock and key, for the summer. Every -part of the house should be thoroughly examined, and none but the eye -of the mistress can be depended upon. Each article that is to be left -behind must be carefully looked after. Winter garments, furs, and such -heavy shawls as may not be thought advisable to take to the country, -have of course been aired, beaten, sprinkled with Poole’s or Lyon’s -insect-powder, wrapped up in linen or paper, and sealed so that no -moth can find an entrance. Even if done up in linen, it is better to -put over that a strong wrapping-paper, and seal up with mucilage. If -this is faithfully done, moths cannot, or rather will not, wish to get -in. We are inclined to think that Poole’s powder is the best; it is -certainly the most disagreeable, and that speaks well for its efficacy. -Camphor or cedar trunks, made expressly for packing furs, woolens, -etc., are a great convenience and very safe; but for those who have -none, sprinkling with the powder and sealing in thick paper is, though -more troublesome, equally reliable. - -If the house is to be closed for some time, a very thorough cleaning -of paint, windows, plated knobs, and bell-pulls is a useless waste of -time and strength, as they will all be bronzed in a few weeks; but -every part should be well swept, and all accumulation of dust removed. -In the attic or any uncarpeted room, where the boards of the floor have -shrunk, leaving open spaces between the boards, much dust and lint -will gather in the crevices thus formed, and become favorite nests for -moths. All such places should be swept with great care. A stiff brush -should be used to clear every particle of dirt out, and then scrub the -floor with hot soapsuds. When it is dry, sprinkle insect-powder in the -seams. This done, and well done, we think there need be no hesitation -in leaving a house unoccupied for a few weeks; certainly we should feel -far less solicitude than to leave a servant in it. - -Insect-powder should be put round the corners and edges of such carpets -as are to remain on the floor for the summer. There is a little -bellows that generally comes with Poole’s powder, or can be had at -house-furnishing stores, by which you can blow the powder under the -edges much more thoroughly than in any other way. - -Next, see that all food is removed from the house; meat, salt or -fresh butter, flour, meal, bread, or cake should be disposed of. Such -articles soon spoil and make the air impure and offensive; or, if not -offensive, it entices rats and mice into the house to prepare work and -trouble for you all through the winter. - -The furnace and ranges must be cleared out, and if any repairs are -necessary they should be done now. It will annoy you far more to have -these to attend to when you return and are in the confusion and haste -of getting “settled” for the winter, with the thousand interruptions to -which you will then be liable. The top of the range should be rubbed -in sweet-oil, or lard that has no salt in it, to prevent _rust_. -Flat-irons, bake-pans, soup-boilers, all iron-ware, must also be oiled, -wrapped up in paper, and hung up, that you may find your utensils in -perfect order when you return, needing only a good washing in hot -soapsuds to be ready for immediate use. Have locks, keys, bolts, and -bars in a good usable condition, that you may feel sure that nothing is -left without strong fastenings. - -All this preparation is hard work, and you are very thankful when the -last trunk is locked, the last bundle or basket fastened, and this -labor ended. But the comfort and satisfaction of knowing by your own -actual observation and care that all has been done, and waits your -return in the fall, with no mark of carelessness to rise up in reproach -against you, will be ample compensation. Yet, at the last minute, take -one more journey from cellar to attic, to “make assurance doubly sure,” -and then, leaving all that care behind you, go on your way rejoicing. - - - - -X. - -HEEDLESSNESS. - - -THERE are many annoyances that fall to a housekeeper’s lot which seem -very insignificant when spoken of, and too trivial to put on paper; but -they are grievances nevertheless, and like a wasp’s or bee’s sting, -though small, not easily borne; and when they follow each other in -quick succession, and are constantly repeated, the accumulation, like a -whole swarm of bees, will tax the grace and patience of the strongest. -It is the little frets of daily life that, when summed up, become -almost unendurable; and to them is added the mortification of knowing -that friends who are only “lookers on,” having never themselves touched -the burden with so much as their little finger, feel no sympathy, but -on the contrary almost a good-natured contempt, that any one should -be so weak as to be shaken by such trifling troubles and vexations. -But they are not trifling; if they were only occasional they would be; -but they are of daily, hourly occurrence, and, because they are never -ending, make a housekeeper’s responsible position one that demands -self-control and patience of a higher order than any other position to -which woman aspires. There is a dignity in being burnt at the stake -that enables one to rise above the pain; but to be harried to death -with briers and brambles is very humiliating, yet a torture none the -less. - -Many things that are really untidy are not noticed until, through -neglect, they increase, and at last cause great confusion in the home -affairs, simply because the young housekeeper’s attention has not been -called to them, or she does not yet understand how to regulate and -control them. Ignorance may be bliss, but it is of a nature that leads -to mischief in the end. - -Let us point out some of these petty troubles, and see what they amount -to and how they may be removed. - -What more disagreeable and annoying than to have the vapors or odors -that arise from washing or cooking pervade the whole house, giving to -it the sickening smell of the lowest class boarding-houses? When seated -quietly in the parlor, it comes so gradually upon one that it is hardly -noticed; but step for a moment into the fresh air, and on your return -you will be greatly disgusted at the fumes that half suffocate you -as you open the door. This infliction can be escaped only by keeping -the doors of the kitchen or hall leading from it tightly closed. Yet -it seems almost impossible to teach a servant that just “pushing the -door to” is not shutting it, and the smells of the kitchen will escape -as readily through a half-closed as through an open door. There is no -help for this evil but watchfulness and constant reminder. You can put -springs or rubber straps on the door, and while they are new and stiff -they will swing to with force enough to close it; but the spring will -soon grow careless, like other servants, and by and by not shut the -door entirely. As well leave it wide open as ajar. Besides, springs are -very troublesome and inconvenient, and, in the passing of servants with -their hands full, endanger the dishes. And, worse than all, we have -noticed that a spring on the door has a singularly inflammatory effect -on the disposition of the servants; and after they have been hit or a -few dishes broken once or twice by it, the spring suddenly breaks or -is cut. Of course _it broke itself_, or _nobody_--that most mysterious -mischief-maker--did it. The watch and care of the mistress is the only -remedy. - -Another careless habit which often proves a great grief of heart to -the thorough housekeeper, and to which the attention of the beginner -should be directed from the first, is the use of dish-towels and -dish-cloths, instead of “holders,” to remove pots, stew-pans, and -kettles from the fire, or meats and pies from the oven. It is a habit -that is harder to conquer than almost any other. The most ample -supply of _holders_ may be provided, yet the mistress seldom enters -the kitchen but she sees the nice crash towel caught up to remove a -boiling pot from the stove, or a gridiron from the fire, and if it is -not tossed into the sink, scorched and smeared, it is a marvel. And the -“holder” you had so neatly made but a few days before, now a mass of -grease, stove-crock, and filth, is perhaps lying in the coal-hod ready -to be thrown into the fire, where you will be the least likely to find -it out; for to _wash a holder_ never enters into the heads of those who -use, or rather abuse, them so badly. - -A _cook’s holder_ should be made of some strong, dark material, a piece -of tape about a half-yard long sewed on one corner, and a large hook on -the tape to hook into cook’s belt or apron-string. It is then always -ready for use. - -“And will she remember to use it?” - -Doubtful; certainly not without your watchful care. But be sure and -have them ready, and then strictly endeavor to secure their proper use. - -The ironing-holder should be of soft, light-colored material, that dirt -and stains may bear testimony against its use about clean clothes, till -it is washed. Harsh material is severe on the hands when used for hours -on a hot iron. When out of use, the ironing-holder must be put away -with the ironing-sheet, bosom-board, etc., that they may not be used in -the kitchen. - -Again: watch the dish-towels; see that they are not thrown on the -floor or into a chair to be sat on by the first one who happens in, -and perhaps the next minute used to wipe the fine china or cover over -the bread fresh from the oven. Such things are constantly being done. -Do our housekeepers know it? Of course they never do such things -_themselves;_ but if they once gave it a moment’s sober thought, would -they not, for their own comfort, endeavor to prevent its being done -again? Who would wish to eat or drink from china wiped with towels so -misused? Who would like to eat bread that had been wrapped up in a -dish-towel, however clean? They should be washed and boiled every day -after the dinner-dishes are out of the way, hung out to dry, and fresh, -clean ones used at tea and till after dinner the next day, when the -first set are brought in for the dishes, and the second washed, boiled, -and hung out,--thus securing clean towels for each day. But no matter -how faithfully this rule may be carried out, _no_ dish-towel should -ever be used for bread, no bread-cloth should be used to wipe meat, no -meat-cloth used for fish. Each contracts a taste or smell belonging to -its own peculiar work, and each should be marked and employed for its -own appropriate use, and _no other_. - - - - -XI. - -WASHING FLANNELS. - - -“CAN you tell me what has been done to my blankets? Not a year in use, -and look at them! Fortunately I put but two into the wash this week, -and now I think I shall never dare to have another washed. My pretty, -soft, white blankets absolutely ruined!” - -Not ruined, as far as use is concerned, but the beauty has departed, -never to return. Did you overlook the washing of them yourself? - -“Most certainly not! I never did such a thing in my life. I told the -laundress that I wanted her to be very particular, and she assured me -that she was fully competent to the work. I have just been speaking to -her about them, and she can’t tell what should make them look so badly, -unless there was something wrong about the wool.” - -That is simply absurd. Did you question her as to her mode of washing -them? - -“O, no. I should not have known if she had managed incorrectly, and to -question her would only have exposed my own ignorance to a servant, -and that I am very loth to do; but she said she rubbed them very -faithfully, soaped them thoroughly, and boiled them in good, clean -suds.” - -_Soaped and boiled blankets_, or woolen goods of any kind! No wonder -they are brown and muddy, and as thick as a board! - -Blankets that are carefully managed will not require washing often; -yours have been in use so short a time they certainly could not have -needed it, unless they were accidentally soiled. - -“No, they looked very fresh and fair; but I had supposed blankets -should be washed every fall and spring. I never asked why.” - -O, no! They are always put between the sheets and bedspreads, not in -contact with the body at all, and it would be long before anything but -an accident or the greatest carelessness could soil them. - -There are people who will lie down for a nap in the afternoon _between -the blankets_! The housekeeper who can patiently or silently endure -that must be nearer akin to the angels than we generally find them. -True, no woman would be guilty of such carelessness; but ignorance is -an excuse for many short-comings. But it is not this class of men that -we intend to have at home in charge of household affairs when women go -to Congress. - -Occasionally, in a fair, clear day, and when there is a moderate wind, -it is well to pin blankets on the clothes-line in the yard, that they -may be well aired and freshened, and whatever dust may have settled in -them be whipped out by the wind. When they really need washing, the -first step is to see that there is a good quantity of boiling water -ready. Next, select the largest tub and fill half full of _boiling_ -water; dissolve and stir thoroughly into it two table-spoonfuls of -powdered borax and sufficient soap to make a good lather, but on no -account _rub soap on the blankets_. Put into the tub but one blanket at -a time. Shake it to and fro with the clothes-stick till perfectly wet -through, then press it under the water to remain till cool enough to -use your hands in it, when each part should be examined very carefully, -gently rubbing or squeezing the suds through it. Hard rubbing _fulls_ -woolens. When sure that all spots or dirt are removed, wring them into -a second tub of boiling water into which you have thoroughly stirred -some blueing. If your first suds are strong enough, the blankets -will retain sufficient soap for the rinsing water, which in woolens -requires a little soap. Shake the blanket up and down in this water, -with the clothes-stick, till it has flowed through every part. Then, -while the water is still hot, wring it. It requires two persons to -wring and shake out a bed-blanket. They should take it by the ends -and snap vigorously, to remove all the water as far as possible. Then -carry it to the line, throw it over, and pull it smooth, bringing the -hems straight and true, and pin on to the line strongly. When half -dry, turn it lengthwise on the line, and pull the selvedges together -in a straight line, so that no part may draw up in _cockles_ or full -unevenly. - -It is not well to wash woolens of any kind on a rainy or cloudy day; -but for blankets it is ruinous. A bright sunny day with a brisk wind -is very desirable, as it snaps out the water, giving it no chance to -settle. When the blanket is perfectly dry, fold very evenly, but never -press or iron it. - -Washed in this way, although your blankets may not be quite as white -as when new, the change will be hardly noticeable, and they will be -soft and fleecy until worn out. A tall, large tub with a pounder or -dasher on springs, fastened across the tub, like the old-fashioned -pounding-barrel, or the tub and dasher of the Metropolitan -Washing-Machine, is one of the most convenient and desirable tubs to -wash blankets in, as the washing can be done at once without waiting -for the water to cool. The pounder should be used gently, as harsh -rubbing or pounding knots the fibers of woolens, but the spring dasher -keeps the water filtering through every part without any hard usage. - -Wash flannels in the same way, only bring them from the line while -quite damp; pull out and fold evenly. If any spot has “fulled” or -“cockled,” when it is a little damp you can pull it smooth. Roll up the -articles tight, for a little while, until dampened all over alike, and -then press them till dry, pulling the garment taut from the iron as you -press. - -There are many theories about washing woolen goods. Several of the -“Household Guides,” of late, recommend washing in cold water. Some even -advise _soaking_ them all night, claiming that they do not felt or -full any more than when washed in hot water, and are not as liable to -grow yellow. But we cannot think this idea correct. Professor Youmans, -in his “Book of Household Science,” describes the difference, in the -structure of fiber, between woolen and cotton and linen fabrics, with a -drawing of the straight, smooth form of linen or cotton filaments, and -the toothed and jagged structures of woolen fabrics, and says:-- - -“It is evident that the latter, by compression and friction, will -mat and lock together, while cotton and linen fibers, having no such -asperities of surface, are incapable of anything like close mechanical -adherence. Hence the peculiar capabilities of woolen fabrics of -felting, fulling, and shrinking, caused by the binding together of -the ultimate filaments. We see, therefore, the impolicy of excessive -rubbing in washing woolen fabrics, and of changing them from hot -to cold water, as the contraction that it causes is essentially a -_fulling_ process. The best experience seems to indicate that woolen -cloths should never be put into cold water, but always into warm, and -if changed from water to water, they should go _from hot to hotter_. In -the most skillful modes of cleansing _delaines_ for printing, the plan -is, to place them first in water at 100° or 120°, and then treat them -eight or ten times with water 10° hotter in each change.” - - - - -XII. - -JUNE CARES. - - -THERE is much of romance and beauty in the month of June, partly -imaginary and partly real. During the frosts and snows of winter, the -sharp winds and dreary storms of spring, our thoughts turn with most -affectionate longings towards June,--the month of loves and roses. Yet, -when she comes, hardly any other month of the whole year brings so many -little frets and annoyances as the month of June. - -The first two or three days, so warm and balmy, lull us into a dreamy -state of delightful rest and security; but we wake to find damp, foggy -mornings, with mists so dark and dense that you long to cut a window -through for the sunshine, which you feel must be held in durance vile -behind it. Particularly is this noticeable if living near a river. All -through the first half of the month we have cold, stormy days, then -suddenly damp, sultry, sticky ones. In the morning we are uncertain -how to dress. If warm, and we put on cool, thin garments, perhaps -in an hour or two a chilly wind sweeps by, and, shivering and quite -uncomfortable, we resort to a breakfast shawl or sack; they are a -little too much, and we drop them, only too glad, in a few moments, to -draw them close about us again; or, in an obstinate fit, we refuse to -yield to the demands made by these sudden changes for warmer clothing, -and a heavy cold is the result. The wind has a decided partiality for -the east most of the time in early June. If it veers for a few hours -to the south, it is in an unsteady, wavering manner, and soon turns -back to the east again. The result is, that the first half of June will -very likely keep you in an uncomfortable, dissatisfied state of mind. -Everything molds; clothes grow damp in drawers or wardrobes, or the -washing is caught out in a shower, just as it is half ready to be taken -in. It is decidedly “falling weather.” Be watchful to guard against -any infelicities that may follow these changes, patiently accepting -what they bring that cannot be avoided. That’s the only true way. This -variable weather usually lasts till the middle of June, sometimes -later, when we may look for more settled but very warm weather. - -The flies have been reconnoitring,--sending out scouts, during those -few weeks of mild weather; but as the warm days become more permanent, -they come on with their main army. We have put the moths to rest, but -these intruders, if not as mischievous, are quite as hard to manage, -and even as persistent. There are various kinds of “fly-paper,” around -which, if ready for them, certainly lie large numbers of the slain to -certify to the virtues of the paper. It is doubtless of some benefit, -but does not by any means free us from this great vexation. It is at -least a dirty, mussy remedy, requiring one to be incessantly on the -watch lest flies who have tasted the paper fall into food, or lie about -in an unseemly manner. If servants in the kitchen or dining-room have -any gifts toward _neatness_, this constant litter makes them cross; if -they have not that gift, the careless way they allow the dead flies to -lie about, and the fear that they may approach too near the cooking, -_may_ make the mistress cross also,--two evils to be scrupulously -avoided. - -During the heat of summer we are compelled to keep open doors and -windows, but these lawless intruders know, apparently, the moment when -we lift the latch or raise the window, and swarm in upon us in myriads. -To secure the air and baffle the flies, we have found mosquito netting -a great help. A simple frame of pine, about an inch and a half wide, -fitted closely inside the lower sash, with mosquito lace or net nailed -across it (galvanized nails or tacks should be used, to avoid rust), -is the most effectual safeguard we have ever tried. The frame must -not be quite as high as the lower sash, as room is needed to push in -the spring to open or close the window. The outside doors and those -leading from the kitchen to the dining-room may have frames fitted in -the same manner,--the frame having a cross-piece in the middle. It can -be hung on hinges, having a hook in the cross-piece to fasten it with, -while the real door may be kept open all day, excluding the flies, -but leaving freedom for the air to circulate. By a few days’ extra -care the family will soon learn to close this net door, or swarms of -flies will quickly remind them of any heedlessness in this matter. A -wire net is the most durable, although more expensive at first; but -it will soon repay the extra expense, for lace or netting must be -renewed every year. Yet notwithstanding these precautions, the flies -will often effect an entrance, especially into the dining-room when -dishing the dinner, or when merry, heedless children rush in and out, -always forgetting to close the door. Cut old newspapers in strips -an inch or an inch and a half wide, nearly the whole length of the -sheet, leaving only about two inches uncut at the top. Take a smooth -round stick about two feet long, and laying three or four of these cut -papers together, wind the uncut part about the stick. Tie the paper -on with strong twine, very tightly, so that it will not slip, leaving -the long ribbons of paper hanging loose, and you have a most effectual -_fly-brush_. Cheap calico is still better, as paper tears easily and -litters the room. Keep one always on hand for the kitchen, and two -for the parlor and dining-room. If the flies have secured an entrance -during the dishing of dinner, when it is served spread a large piece of -netting over the table to protect the food from dust or the flies you -may brush down. Open the door, let two persons take each a fly-brush, -and, standing opposite the door, swing the brush in concert through the -room swiftly toward the door, and it will be amusing and gratifying to -observe how hastily the intruders will vacate the premises. One or two -well-directed charges will leave you free to shut the net door, remove -the netting from the table, and partake of your dinner unmolested. - - - - -XIII. - -PURE AIR AND THOROUGH VENTILATION. - - -AT all seasons of the year it is important that the house should be -kept dry and well ventilated; but extra precautions are necessary -in warm weather. The nights are often close and sultry; windows are -left open with the hope--often a vain one--that an occasional breeze -may deign to sweep through the rooms, and assist us in the labor -of breathing. And here is danger. The night air, what there may be -of it, and the heavy morning fogs, fill the house with dampness. -The bedclothes are moist and disagreeable. The garments laid off on -retiring at night, if left near an open window, are heavy with dew. -Fever and ague, rheumatism, cholera, and dysentery lurk always in such -an atmosphere. One of the best preventives is a quick blaze, in an open -fireplace or stove, immediately after rising; no matter how warm the -weather may be. A handful of brush or light wood, just to make a blaze, -expel the bad air, and _dry_ the rooms, not _heat_ them, is all that is -needed. - -Those who can be in the country during the summer will have no -difficulty in finding plenty of brush,--dead branches, or sprouts, or -bushes, cut off in clearing up the fields or hedges. On a rainy day, -when outdoor work or play cannot be advantageously attended to, a child -could easily cut them up into foot or foot and a half lengths, tie -them in fagots, and pile them neatly in the wood-house, ready for use. -Keep one of these fagots always in the fireplace or stove, ready for -lighting every morning. It will dry and purify the air wonderfully, and -save doctors’ bills and much sickness. - -Aside from the ill effects of dampness, the air is full of impurities -arising from the body, and more injurious through the night than in the -day. Professor Youmans says:-- - -“The escape of offensive matter from the body becomes most obvious -when, from out of the pure air in the morning, one enters an -unventilated bedroom where one or two have slept the night before. -Every one must have experienced the sickening and disgusting odor -upon going into such a room, though its occupants themselves do not -recognize it. The nose, although an organ of excessive sensibility, -and capable of perceiving the presence of offensive matters where the -most delicate chemical tests fail, is nevertheless easily blunted, -and what at the first impression is pre-eminently disgusting, quickly -becomes less offensive to the smell; but the impure air has not -departed. Two persons, occupying a bed for eight hours, impart to the -sheets by insensible perspiration, and to the air by breathing, a pound -of watery vapor charged with latent animal poison. When the air in -other inhabited rooms is not often changed, the water of exhalation, -thus loaded with impurities, condenses upon the furniture, windows, -and walls, dampening their surfaces, and running down in unwholesome -streams. - -“Yet we are not to regard the human body as necessarily impure, or a -focus of repulsive emanations. It is not by the natural and necessary -working of the vital machinery that the air is poisoned, but by its -artificial confinement, and the accumulation of deleterious substances.” - -In speaking of the prevalent inattention to a perfect ventilation in -our homes, and the need of great care in this respect, if we would -secure health, Youmans also refers to the “gaseous exhalations, of -every sort, that escape from our kitchens, filling the house with -unpleasant odors; the imperfect combustion of oil and tallow in -lighting our homes; the defective burning of gas-jets”; and the -injurious effects upon health,--causing severe headaches, if nothing -worse; to the destruction to health from the poisonous influences -of green paper-hangings upon the air, from which the fine particles, -loosened by dusting or moving about the room, are set afloat in the -atmosphere, and are often very deadly. - -Then from the decayed vegetables--carelessly allowed to remain -sometimes for days in our cellars--and the damp and stagnant air of -cellars and basements come exhalations most destructive to health. -Even dry closets and rooms in upper stories become moldy and musty if -not often and thoroughly aired. “To be pure and healthy, air requires -continual circulation; but cellars are rarely either ventilated or -made dry by water-proof walls or floors, and are usually damp, cold, -unclean, and moldy. - -“The air from these basements and cellars ascends to the upper rooms in -such small quantities that it does not produce immediate disease; yet -it so gradually undermines the health as not to be perceptible. Many an -invalid, who fancies himself benefited by the change of air in going -to another residence, is really only improved by escaping the moldy -atmosphere that arises from beneath his own ground-floor.” - -By quoting thus largely from Professor Youmans, we bring good authority -for the particular and earnest advice we have offered to our “young -housekeepers” with regard to the drying and ventilating every part of -their houses. We doubt not many a one, who has begun with sound health, -has gradually sunk into a confirmed invalid, when the principal cause -could be traced back to carelessness in this seemingly unimportant -duty. And those who are thus slowly poisoned by the impure air which -comes through this neglect of duty are the most ready recipients of all -infectious and epidemic diseases. - -It is always well to have either a bath full of water near where one -sleeps, or, if no bath, a pail or tub full set into the room, as water -is one of the best disinfectants, cleansing the air by taking up all -the impurities from it as fast as they arise. But this water should be -let off in the morning, and fresh water used for bathing or washing; -and if you need drinking water in your bedroom,--and it is well always -to have it near,--do not let it remain open in your room, as it absorbs -impurities, and would be unfit for drinking; but either have a lid -to your pitcher or cover it over with a thin cloth, to keep dust and -insects out, and set it on the ledge _outside_ your window, in the -pure, fresh air. - - - - -XIV. - -MILK AND BUTTER. - - -JULY and August are trying months for those who have charge of milk and -butter, unless the work to be done is performed in large establishments -devoted entirely to it. When a milk-house is built under large trees, -to shield it from the fierce heat of the mid-day sun, with a stream -of pure cold water running through it, the labor is diminished full -one half. Indeed, we should not call it labor, but an exhilarating -amusement to take charge of such an one as we saw, a few weeks ago, -in Norwich, Chenango County, New York. We have not thought of it -since without a longing, amounting almost to coveting our neighbor’s -work. To find this house among the trees, away from the confusion and -turmoil of the town, which is shaken by the ceaseless din of more noisy -occupations, was most restful and tranquillizing; the music of the -rich, green leaves among the long sweeping branches, and the murmur -of the restless brook, could not fail to give a spring and elasticity -to the spirits that must, in a great measure, overcome the sense -of fatigue. This was our first impression, as we stood outside the -unpretentious building, and it was in nowise changed when we stepped -upon the smooth floor, as white as good soap, fresh water, and a -willing arm could make it. - -Our attention was immediately attracted by the sound of machinery. -In the farther corner of the room stood two large barrel-churns, the -dashers of both moving up and down with an easy, uniform motion, -impelled by the wheel and belt overhead, to which they were attached. -No fears for the aching back and tired arms neutralized our enjoyment, -for the woman in charge sat, resting by the open door, till the butter -was ready to be taken out into the “butter-worker.” - -A large trough, some twelve or fourteen feet long, six or eight wide, -and perhaps four deep (we simply use our Yankee privilege of _guessing_ -at the dimensions), and lined with tin, was placed in the middle of the -room, where the curd for “skimmed cheese,” made from milk after all -the cream was removed, was “set.” This and the churning arrangements -occupied half the building. The other half was a large tank, through -which the water from the brook flowed continually. Into this reservoir, -always full, tall tin cans, between two or three feet high, and perhaps -a foot across, were set. Little danger that milk in that cool bed would -sour before all the cream had been risen. About this tank ran a wide -shelf or ledge, on which stood great tubs of golden butter waiting to -be sent to market. - -In the second story, equally cool and clean, large shelves were placed, -where the cheeses are kept to dry, or ripen, entirely separate from the -butter. - -This is a very tame description of a scene of labor which was to us -exceedingly interesting. We must now hasten to speak of that which is -real care and labor,--the management of small dairies, where butter is -only made for home consumption. - -The most scrupulous cleanliness must be recognized as being absolutely -indispensable. If all else is done to perfection, and _that_ is -wanting, you cannot have good butter. As you skim one mess, be sure -that the shelf on which it stood is faithfully scrubbed and left -unoccupied until it becomes dry. Every utensil used about milk or cream -should be kept for this, and drafted into no other service. Many object -to using soap in washing milk-pans, pails, etc. But we have great -affection and reverence for soap, and cannot imagine that its free use -can harm any article employed about a dairy. We always insist that the -pails, pans, skimmers, butter-prints, and churn be washed in _very hot_ -suds; if a servant fears to risk her hands, we use our own. A small, -pointed scrub-brush must be used to scour the seams, corners, handles, -etc., of all the utensils, and particularly the _strainers_ in the -pails. After this scrubbing is well done, rinse in an abundance of hot -water, and then pour over all a large kettle of _boiling_ water. Let -the articles stand in this a short time, then wipe with clean towels, -and turn down on a stand or shelf prepared for them outdoors, where the -sun will sweeten them perfectly. Even in rainy days, better leave them -out an hour or two that they may have the benefit of the air at least, -if deprived of sun; then wipe them dry, and bring into the milk-room -before night. - -A small unpainted tub should be kept expressly to wash milk things in. -The brush, wash-cloths, and drying towels ought all to be marked, and -never used for any other purpose. See that they are washed, scalded, -and hung to dry, outdoors if possible, every time they are used. - -If the milk-room or cellar is small and not ventilated, it is very -difficult in July and August to keep milk sweet long enough for all the -cream to rise. While the weather is very hot, unless one has a deep, -cold cellar, or a spring of water running through it, it is well to -_scald_ the milk when first brought in. Have a kettle half full of -boiling water over the fire; strain the milk into a clean pail, and set -it into the boiling water until it gets scalding hot, but not boiling. -Be sure and remove it before it rises in _wrinkles_ on top. If too hot, -the butter will have a disagreeable taste. The butter is never quite -as good, but the cream rises more rapidly, before the milk has time to -change,--a very important gain, and one to be considered in case of a -small cellar. - -In very warm weather, with no more protection than is generally -found in small dairies, it is not often possible to keep milk over -twenty-four hours before skimming. Every minute the cream remains on -the milk, after it changes, is an injury to the butter. Thirty-six -hours is the proper time for milk to stand, when the weather is cool -enough to keep it sweet. Some keep it forty-eight hours, on the plea -that more butter is secured. We doubt if it is so; but whatever is -gained in quantity, by keeping milk so long unskimmed, is certainly -lost in quality. Many think it important to keep the cream till _ripe_, -or sour, before churning. We think it a mistake, if good, sweet butter -is the thing sought. In cool weather we churn when the cream is as -sweet as that which is used for coffee. In July and August the cream -_will_ sour, and the flavor of the butter shows the difference. As -soon as the butter “comes,” it must be well washed down from the sides -of the churn, and gathered into a mass. If very warm, wash a piece of -ice and put it into the churn, leaving the butter five or ten minutes -to harden before putting it into the “butter-bowl,” which, with the -butter-ladle and churn, should have been kept full of cold water all -night. When the butter is firm enough to work over, take it into the -bowl and throw in a handful of salt; we fancy it causes the buttermilk -to run off more easily; work out all the buttermilk as gently as -possible; too much working or rough handling injures the grain of the -butter. This done, pour in ice-water; wash the butter through that; -pour off, and add more, till the water runs clear. Twice washing, in a -generous quantity, should be sufficient. Then taste, and see how much -more salt is needed. After the washing, press the butter with the ladle -till no water runs; toss it into a compact roll, cover with a clean -linen cloth, and put into the ice-chest till next morning, when it -must be again broken up, worked over, and packed into a butter-pail or -jar, pounded down compactly, and covered with strong brine, in which -pulverized saltpetre--a great spoonful to four quarts of brine--has -been dissolved. Cover the jar or pail closely, and set in the ice-chest -or a cool place. - -This method will insure good butter the year round. It is the -buttermilk left in most of our market butter that gives us so much poor -butter. If that remains, no brine or care can make it sweet. - -The Blanchard Churn is, we think, one of the safest and most -convenient, as the washing, salting, and working can be almost entirely -done in the churn, by turning the wings, or dasher, back and forth -half-way,--pressing out the buttermilk and salting it more evenly and -with far less fatigue. - - - - -XV. - -MAKING CHEESE. - - -FIRST, a dry, airy, thoroughly ventilated room must be provided, of -even and moderate temperature. It should be used for a cheese-room -only, and access denied, if possible, to all but the operator. It is -useless to attempt the work if flies cannot be excluded; and, when open -to all, that is impossible. The windows should be kept open in fair -weather, but blinds always closed, to avoid currents of air, except to -admit what light is needed while the work is being done. Frames covered -with wire or mosquito net can be fitted into the windows, and a door of -the same material hung inside, shutting closely to exclude the flies, -yet giving admittance to as much air and light as are needed. If wind -and sun have too free access to a cheese-room, the cheese cannot ripen -properly. - -Cheese-tubs, cheese-knives (a long wooden knife for cutting the curd), -cheese-ladder, hoops, cheese-boards, or _followers_, cheese-basket, -bowl, and cheese-cloths made of strong linen, but woven very loosely, -and the cheese-press,--these are the necessary utensils. - -The months from May to September are good cheese months; some keep up -the work through October; but the cheese is more difficult to cure, and -will not be as good. - -If night and morning milk is to be used, strain the night’s milk into -pans, and set in a cool place. In the morning take off all the cream; -heat the skimmed milk to 95° or 100°, pour it into the cheese-tub with -the morning’s milk, and stir in the cream; add the rennet, and mix all -well together with the long wooden cheese-knife or a wooden spoon; -cover the tub with a close-fitting cover, and spread over that a thick -cheese-blanket, to keep in the heat while the curd is forming. The -milk, when drawn from the cows, is from 85° to 90°, and until the curd -is well set, it should not lose more than from five to seven degrees -of its natural heat. See that the cows are driven to and from their -pasture gently; for, if they get overheated, the milk will rise above -the natural heat, and must be cooled off before the rennet is stirred -in; as, if the milk, either from this cause or any other, is over 90° -when it is set, the cheese will be spongy and of very poor flavor, or -no flavor at all. If the milk is too cold the curd will be so tender it -will never become firm, but will bulge out at the side, and will not -keep. Be sure and ascertain the temperature of the milk always, before -adding rennet. If the milk is too _cold_, heat some milk and stir in, -until the whole rises to the proper temperature; if too _warm_, wait -till it cools sufficiently before adding the rennet. The quantity -of rennet to be used depends so much on the quality of the article, -that experience only can teach the exact amount to use. If good and -strong, two ounces is quite enough for sixty quarts of milk. The curd -will have set firmly in an hour or an hour and a half, when it must be -cut gently, first round the sides of the tub, then across in lines, -reaching the long wooden cheese-knife to the bottom of the tub, each -time about an inch from the last; then cut in the opposite direction, -forming squares, to give the whey an opportunity to rise above the -curd. Let it settle a few minutes. Then throw over the tub a large -square _cheese-cloth_, or strainer, and after the curd has settled and -the whey risen to the top, sink the strainer into it and dip off the -whey as closely as it can be done. The strainer is then spread over -a square _splint_ cheese-basket, woven very loose and open, and the -basket set on the cheese-_ladder_, which is laid across another tub. -The curd must now be cut into small pieces gently, and put into the -strainer. The corners of the cloth are then gathered up and twisted -tightly together, and a flat, smooth stone, kept for that purpose, of -about twelve or fifteen pounds’ weight, laid upon it, to press the -whey from the curd. It should stand an hour; and, while draining, such -things as will be no more needed to finish the work for the day can -be washed, scalded, and set out to dry; for, of course, hot water is -always ready. - -The curd when ready is removed to a large wooden cheese-bowl, cut in -slices, and a pail of the whey heated to 120° or 130° is poured over -it. Great judgment and care are required here, as, if scalded too much, -it makes the cheese hard; if not enough, the cheese will spread and -crack. The hot whey should be left on till the curd will “squeak”--as -the children used to call it--when bitten; then returned again to the -strainer and basket, to drain free of the hot whey. This done, cut it -up again fine; put in the salt, and thoroughly stir it in. The taste is -the best criterion to judge of the quantity,--about six ounces to every -fifteen pounds of curd is a fair estimate. A cheese-cloth must now be -laid over the hoop; the curd dipped into it, pressed down, but heaped -up in the centre; the corners of the cloth folded smoothly over, and -the first cheese-board, with holes all through it, put on; one a size -smaller laid over that; and the cheese thus prepared is ready to be -put into the press, and subjected to a pressure of from forty to sixty -pounds, according to the size of the cheese. It should remain in the -press two or three hours. If the whey, which is now pressed out, is of -a slightly greenish color, the curd has been properly prepared; but if -it is white, like milk, the curd was formed imperfectly, and the cheese -will not be of the first quality. - -When the cheese has remained in the press for about two hours, some -advise to take it from the hoop and let it stand an hour in hot whey, -to harden the skin. We do not like the idea, and fancy much fine flavor -would be lost from the cheese. - -We should simply put it into a dry cheese-cloth and return it to the -press, to remain till next morning. In changing the cloth, if any rind -presses over the top of the hoop, cut it off smoothly and turn that -side of the cheese down. Leave it now until the next morning in the -same cloth; only it is well to turn it over in the press several times -in the course of the day. - -When taken from the press the last time, a piece of cheap muslin should -be soaked in hot butter and fitted over the top and bottom, and a -band, also wet in butter, bound tight round the cheese and sewed to the -edges of the top and bottom covers. The cheese is then placed on the -shelf. It will need rubbing with butter every day for some weeks, and -must be turned over every day for several months, washing the shelf -clean each time, and changing the place so that the shelf may get well -dried. - -If the whey is saved, in twenty-four hours a thick creamy substance -will rise, which, if skimmed off and churned, forms butter very -quickly, and is excellent to dress the cheese with,--a great economy, -and better for the cheese than table butter. Put some of the butter -into a tin dish kept for that purpose; throw in a small red pepper, and -put it over the fire till boiling hot, then set aside for dressing, -leaving the pepper in. - -These directions give the general idea of making cheese. There are many -varieties of cheese, which it would be very interesting to notice, -pointing out in what the difference consists; but we cannot appropriate -more space to this matter. - - - - -XVI. - -A TROUBLESOME QUESTION. - - -“ONE of the most urgent of the unsolved, irrepressible questions of the -times,” says the “Household,” a most excellent Vermont paper, “relates -to the trials which modern housewives experience in their efforts to -manage their households satisfactorily, and still have time for needful -rest and social culture. As yet the problem remains a puzzle alike -to the housewife and to the philanthropist. Labor-saving machines, -which promised so much relief, practically fail to lighten materially -the housekeeper’s tasks. ‘Biddy’ is still the main dependence in the -performance of hard work in the kitchen; yet the constant oversight -which she usually requires often renders her services a doubtful -advantage. - -“That the cares of housekeeping increase faster than means are found -for their disposal seems generally true. Whether this is owing -to increased luxuriousness in our ways of living, or whether the -housewives of to-day lack the executive ability of their grandmothers, -remains an open question.” - -It does not seem to us very difficult to find the _reasons_ for the -great increase of our domestic cares; the puzzle is to find the -_remedy_. - -We escape much of the hard work our mothers and grandmothers performed -so energetically, and about which housekeepers of the present day -hear so many disparaging comparisons; for machinery does better and -far more expeditiously many things that in olden times could only be -accomplished by hard labor. - -The wool is no longer carded by hand. Our factories have banished the -spinning-wheel from the good old kitchen fireside; the little ones -nestle no longer by mother’s knee, watching with never-ceasing wonder -and enjoyment the “head” of flax disappear from the distaff and become -a smooth, bright thread, under the skillful hand and foot that keep -the pretty wheel so active. The cool breeze, laden with the perfume -of cinnamon-roses and lilacs, while it sweeps through the open window -of the old attic, no longer sports with golden curls, as the children -run merry races in their efforts to “keep step” when the long white -rolls of wool in the hand of the mother are transformed by the rapid -revolutions of the big wheel into yarn for knitting. Little hands no -longer wind it, from the spindle on the swifts, into skeins, or fill -the bobbins for the weaver’s shuttle, and no bright eyes watch it as it -flies through the warp. - -The mothers escape the labor of the loom, while the little folks lose -all this, or the still greater sport of meddling with the web, in -their vain efforts to throw the shuttle through, or to _bang up_ if -they succeed,--the frolic often cut short by _banging_ their fingers, -instead of the woof, with the heavy beam. Machinery relieves us from -all such labor, and deprives our children of much real fun, for which -there is no compensation. - -We almost regret those old-fashioned times, and often wonder if the -elegancies and (supposed) increased comforts of our modern dwellings -are a sufficient compensation for the multiplied labor and the -necessity for so much more help which we are forced to employ. For -though our mothers and grandmothers did more rough, homely work, -we do not believe that they had half so hard a time in doing it as -their daughters have in their efforts to teach modern servants how to -perform the necessary labor of our present style of housekeeping. To -weave a web of cloth is but child’s play, compared to the worry and -disappointment and mortification that cause our modern housekeepers to -“die deaths daily,” through the utter incompetency of those they are -compelled to have about them. The tyranny of our modern style of living -increases the proper amount of work to be done far beyond what one pair -of hands can perform. - -We think the deterioration is in the _servants_, and not in the -mistresses. With all loving respect for our mothers and grandmothers, -we feel confident that their daughters’ executive ability is equal to -their own. - -To be sure, husbands will tell of their mothers’ gingerbread, pies, and -doughnuts, and, with an air of hopeless longing or patient endurance, -wonder why nobody “nowadays” can ever cook as their mothers did! - -To be sure! Why can’t they? For the very reason that our husbands -cannot eat “ever so many” pickles, pies, gingerbread, and big bowls -of bread and milk, as they used to do on returning from school; finish -off with a pocketful of apples, and then be half ready to cry that -their containing powers are not equal to their appetites. A good game -of “tag,” however, up the front stairs, down the back, through the -long hall once or twice, soon remedied that difficulty in boyhood. If -husbands will only let their brains run wild for a short time, quit -study, forget business, gold markets, and all such corroding cares, and -be wild, harum-scarum boys once more, their wives’ gingerbread will -taste just as good as their mothers’ and grandmothers’ did. That is the -trouble with the husbands’ appetites. But the housekeepers’ troubles -lie deeper than this. - -The whole routine of modern housekeeping is much more complex than in -our parents’ time. To be sure, they rose early; parents and children -then knew what “sunrise” meant, for they were dressed and at work -before the sun’s red wheel began to rise over the eastern border. The -cows were milked, the milk put in the cool milk-cellar, the butter -made, the breakfast ready--a good substantial, healthy breakfast--long -before the time when our housekeepers of to-day are out of their beds. -“Early to bed, early to rise,” simple, nourishing meals, quiet home -pleasures,--not many hours spent in senseless calls, but an occasional -good old-fashioned visit to keep the heart fresh and living,--these -insured health and strength, good digestion, tranquil sleep, and -cheerful homes. - -_Early rising_ facilitates the action of the domestic machinery in a -wonderful manner. One hour lost or wasted in the morning clogs the -wheels, and the work drags heavily all day. One hour gained is the -best lubricator in the world. Everything glides along smoothly,--head, -heart, and hands work in harmony. - -Once, when a little girl, we were in despair because our “stent” was -not finished in season for us to go a berrying with the brothers and -sisters. Taking her kerchief from the black satin reticule that always -hung on her arm when knitting, the dear old grandmother gently wiped -the fast-falling tears, saying, “Ah, little one! you didn’t want to get -up this morning when the others did. Remember that if you lose an hour -in the morning you will waste half a dozen hunting it all day long, and -deprive yourself of much pleasure. I’d try and remember, if I were you, -never to lose another.” - -We regret, for their own comfort, that our present housekeepers do not -retain their parents’ habits of early rising. But contrast the life -of our parents with the modern life of their descendants. The demands -of society, late hours, too much visiting and company, make laggards -in the morning; and the appetite, injured by untimely eating at these -late hours, is supposed to need coaxing with dainties at breakfast. -The elaborate breakfast requires as much time and labor as belongs -to a dinner; and the dinner, with all the variety that etiquette -claims,--several courses, and a multitude of dishes consequent upon -these courses,--increases the labor immensely; and, unless blessed with -a good corps of servants, requiring little oversight, we can secure -little time for rest, reading, or sewing. Such servants are seldom -granted to mortals in our times. Twenty years ago, one girl, without -any of the modern improvements,--water to be brought from the street -pumps, suds to be taken up and emptied in the gutter,--accomplished -more work, and made the family more comfortable, than three or four -will do now. - -We are inclined to believe that the heaviest trials of housekeeping -may be traced, not to the degeneracy of our mothers’ daughters, but to -a marked and most unfortunate change in the character and capacity of -our “help.”(?) This is no freak of the imagination. Some few families -still retain servants that have been with them for years, and such -housekeepers have no sympathy with their less favored sisters; but let -death or marriage remove these comforts, and compel them to seek others -to replace the old and well-tried ones, and they will learn that this -complaint has very substantial foundations. - -What remedy may be found it is impossible to say. In part our -housekeepers are to blame. They have such horror of being left without -help, such dread of constant changes, that they live as slaves to the -whims and caprices of an ignorant class of persons, who soon recognize -their fears and dependence, and use this knowledge to extort high wages -for very little service,--compelling then mistresses to pass over their -impudence and arrogance by bold threats of leaving. - -This lack of independence, this fear to assert their own authority -and rights, is, we apprehend, in a great measure the cause of the -insubordination and uselessness of the girls of the present time. When -they learn that their services will not be accepted unless faithfully -rendered, we may look for easier and happier times. But how is this to -be accomplished? A few cannot remedy the evil. It can only be effected -by general co-operation. We are not willing to acknowledge that the -housekeepers of the past were any more capable than those of our time; -but we do think that our position, owing to the great annoyance we are -subjected to from the kitchen cabinet, is far more trying than our -mothers’ could have been. - -What sort of housekeepers our daughters will become, enervated by -late hours and all the gay and strange excitement of modern life, and -crippled by the hideous freaks of fashion, it is painful to imagine and -impossible to foretell. - - - - -XVII. - -WOMAN’S KINGDOM. - - -“I SEE unrest, discontent, strife, and sin: I see girls--children in -years--from whose cheek the first blush of innocence, from whose soul -the last vestige of youth, have vanished; women sold to frivolity; -women wasting most precious gifts; women whose ambition has no higher -object than to mislead and triumph over men; men growing hard, selfish, -and wicked, the slaves of their passions, going down to death, with no -hand to save,--all for the lack of a _true home_. Then I remember that -the home is the true kingdom of woman, where her rights can never be -dethroned; that all pure love, all right thoughts, all religion, all -governments, if you would have them live, must have their roots beneath -its altar. This conviction impels me to say to every woman who has a -home, Let home stand first, before all other things! No matter how high -your ambition may transcend its duties, no matter how far your talents -or your influence may reach beyond its doors, before everything else -build up a true home! Be not its slave! Be its minister! Let it not be -enough that it is swept and garnished, that its silver glistens, that -its food is delicious. Feed the love in it. Feed the truth in it. Feed -thought and aspiration, feed all charity and gentleness in it. Then -from its walls shall come forth the true woman and the true man, who, -_together_, shall rule and bless the land.” - -Is this an overwrought picture? We think not. What honor can be greater -than to found such a home? What dignity higher than to reign its -undisputed, honored mistress? What is the ability to speak on a public -platform to large, intelligent audiences, or the wisdom that may -command a seat on a judge’s bench, compared to that which can insure -and preside over a true home, with such skill that husband and children -“rise up and call her blessed”? To be the guiding star, the ruling -spirit, in such a position is higher honor than to rule an empire. -_Woman’s rights!_ Has man any higher rights than these? - -To be sure man often abuses his power, and brings sorrow and woe upon -her who, trusting and loving him, should always be the mistress of -his heart, an equal partner in all his possessions, his joys, and his -sorrows. But are there no cases on record where “the woman Thou gavest -me” has abused the power with which the marriage vow endowed her; -destroying the peace, and making shipwreck of all that her husband -holds most precious? - -The law does not as yet secure to a wife such independence as will -guard her against injustice and meanness from the hands of her husband; -but what defence have they provided against the bitter sorrows that bad -wives can bring down upon their husbands? Has any one ever ascertained -the full statistics, or clearly estimated the average? It is well, no -doubt, that this matter has been so widely agitated, as it all tends, -we hope, to establish the rights of both man and woman on a firm -foundation; but if, before this “revolution” is settled, man should -make a full statement of his wrongs, there are those who could bring -forward just cause of complaint in large measure. Ah! if husbands and -wives would always remember that, with them, as in other associations, -“union is strength”; that “united they stand, divided they fall”; that -_together_ they should walk through life, _together_ share the joys, -_together_ bear the burdens and the crosses,--what a happy world this -would be! If it is a united kingdom, the wife accepts the rough as well -as the smooth of household rule, as her part of the administration. -If able to govern without a “kitchen cabinet,” a happy woman is she! -But if not, she also takes the trials of the kitchen, the disagreeable -details which must form a part of her home life, the vexation of spirit -caused by the inefficiency of the servants of the present time, and -this is the dreariest part,--all great and increasing hindrances to -the perfection at which she should aim. But a good wife will endure -these infelicities till a remedy is found, remembering that they are -but a small part of home. The purest, sweetest, holiest elements that -constitute a home, if recognized and administered in the right spirit, -will enable her to forget these trials in the joy and peace that is set -before her, and to which all may surely attain, if woman forgets not -her high calling in a poor ambition. - -Meanwhile the husband--the household king--accepts his part in the rule -of this united kingdom. Are his cares any lighter than his wife’s? -Look at them. The dust and toil and strife, the battling with the -great world outside, in whatever sphere his talents and duties call -him, to provide necessities, luxuries, or honors, accordingly as he is -prospered, for the family who are sheltered in his home. - -We think the joys and the sorrows, the crosses and the crowns, in -married life are about evenly balanced, and nothing will right all the -wrongs, and bring order out of the confusion of these vexed questions, -so surely as the shelter of a _true home, ruled by the true wife and -mother_. - - - - -XVIII. - -THE KITCHEN. - - -UNFORTUNATELY, many ladies have not health or strength sufficient to -take such supervision as will secure a neat and well-arranged kitchen; -and, still more unfortunately, there are many, and we fear the number -is increasing, who have such repugnance to any care save the genteel -arrangement of their parlors, or the fashionable adornment of their -persons, that they shun their kitchens as they would the plague. -They will give occasional directions for some fancy dish, or the -more elaborate details, if preparing for company; and then, if their -husbands attend to the marketing, relieving them from all care, and the -cook and waiter have breakfast, dinner, and tea at the desired time and -in proper shape, they are content. If their parlors and chambers appear -neat and inviting, they ask no questions as to the condition of their -kitchens, and never inquire if the supply of utensils is adequate to -the amount and quality of the labor the cook is expected to perform, -or if they are of a kind to expedite or simplify her work. Indeed, -one would suppose that the kitchen was entirely out of the mistress’s -domains,--a region for which the cook only was responsible. If any are -content to eat what is set before them, “asking no questions,”--not -“for conscience’ sake,” but for the sake of their own indolent -self-indulgence,--that is their _right_, and we would in no wise -interfere with the full enjoyment of it. - -But we know there are those who find no bliss in such ignorance, but -prefer to know when and in _what_ their food is prepared, and willingly -accept the care and, it may be, the annoyance which the knowledge -will bring. In many of the most palatial abodes, where comforts and -luxuries of every character abound, little attention is paid to any -comfort or convenience connected with the kitchen. Refusing to provide -_straw_, Pharaoh exacted the _full tale of brick_ from the Israelites -of old; and so some housekeepers exact the most elaborate meals, -without any thought of providing the conveniences which will best -enable the cook to gratify their wishes. - -We once watched with a sick child belonging to _the rich_ family of -the town. The furniture, the silver and glass, were of the best. It -was necessary to prepare _wine whey_ for the little sufferer during -the night. The mother, exhausted with much watching and anxiety -for the child, was sleeping, and, unwilling to wake her, we left a -fellow-watcher in charge while we found our way to the kitchen,--if -the miserable room could be called by that name. The floor was made -of loose, rough boards, that sprang up with every step; an old, -dilapidated table, minus one leg, was propped up on the back of a -chair; broken dishes, worn-out saucepans,--in truth, we were at our -wits’ ends to make even the simple _wine whey_ in such utensils as -we found in that strange kitchen, and have often since marvelled by -what skill the excellent dinners and suppers we have partaken at that -house could ever have been manufactured in such a den and with such -“conveniencies.” - -Whenever it is possible, a large, airy kitchen should be provided, -with every thing to expedite and simplify the labor, and with every -facility for perfect ventilation,--a most important point. In the homes -of the wealthy there is no reason why the kitchen should not be in all -respects so arranged and furnished that the cook must be inexcusable if -she does not keep it and its belongings in the most perfect order. - -But for those who cannot command the means to build and furnish -a kitchen of this kind, the necessity for the greatest neatness -and order in that department is still stronger. The occupants of -second-class houses are often those who must themselves do or overlook -much of the heaviest labor of the family, and therefore have no time -to spend in the doubtful luxury of “clearing-up days.” Such days are -generally _wasted_ days. Those who find them a necessity are mostly a -class who, for five days in the week, never put anything in its proper -place, leaving all in disorder till Saturday. Then everything is hunted -out of its hiding-place, washed, scoured, polished, and put where it -really belongs. The improvement is so striking that one would suppose -the kitchen would never again be a scene of disorder and confusion; but -probably before Monday’s sun has set carelessness and misrule will have -again regained their empire, and taken unto themselves seven spirits -worse, if that be possible, than the first. And thus Saturday’s labor -will have been given in vain. There is not one servant in a hundred -who does not need the watchful eye of a methodical mistress to enforce -the necessity of order and neatness in the kitchen. If it is made and -furnished in the best manner, it should certainly be carefully kept; -but if it be small, inconvenient, and have a meagre supply of utensils, -neatness and order become an imperative necessity. - -Jules Gouffe, a famous French cook, says: “The more inconvenient a -kitchen may be, the more need for cleanliness, carefulness, and for -plentiful and good utensils to simplify one’s work. Cleanliness! -Cleanliness!--the great essential in all cooking operations--should, I -maintain, at the risk of being thought over-particular, be written in -large capitals on the door of every kitchen, large or small. A kitchen -may be small, badly arranged and lighted, but it should never, on any -plea, be dirty. Failure in cooking is often attributable to want of -attention to cleanliness. Nothing more than a dirty saucepan is often -sufficient to spoil the effect of a whole dinner. All kitchen utensils -should be examined daily. Saucepans of all kinds cannot be kept too -carefully; they should be washed, scoured with fine sand, and well -rinsed each time they are used. The washing of many things in the same -water should be carefully avoided; the greasiness this engenders adds -much to the labor of cleaning. The brightness and cleanliness of the -outside is very commendable; but the cleanliness of the inside must not -be sacrificed to that.” - -What would be Jules Gouffe’s sensations could he look into many of our -kitchens? What would our good housekeepers themselves say--those of -them that are not obliged to do the cooking for their families--if we -should tell them that the pans in which their bread is baked are seldom -washed out and dried, but are, unless thrown into the closet just as -the bread was taken from them, wiped with a wet, greasy dishcloth, and -bread baked in them over and over again, day after day, with no other -cleansing? Said a good lady, “What is the reason that the bottom crust -of my bread always tastes like rancid butter?” Examine your bread-pans, -and you will no doubt find the reason, to your great surprise and -vexation. How often, think you, is your molding-board set away without -being washed after molding bread or rolling pastry, and the dough left -to dry and sour on it, and the next batch molded on the same unwashed -board? “That can’t be possible. I saw it hanging up in the store-room -over the flour-barrel only this morning, and it was clean.” Turn it -over, under side up, before you speak with too much certainty. How -about the flour-sieve? Is it left in the flour-barrel,--thrown in with -the sponge, from the cook’s wet hands, upon it, or a piece of unused -pastry put in it? If so, when the barrel of flour is about half used, -you will find that it has suddenly become sour. - -Is it not well to watch over these things daily? - - - - -XIX. - -HOW MUCH IS A WIFE WORTH? - - -A FEW weeks since, a party sitting near us in the cars were speaking -of a young man, a wealthy farmer, who had just disturbed his friends -by venturing to marry a poor girl. We judged by the conversation that -he had been well educated, and for wealth and intelligence was quite -looked up to by his townsmen. But he had married for love, not money or -position, and these friends were liberally using friendship’s privilege -to make rather severe remarks about him in his absence. - -First, it was _so_ foolish, after his fine education, instead of -entering into one of the “professions,” to return to the homestead, the -quaint old farm-house, and taking the care of his aged parents upon -himself, settle down to a farmer’s life. _So foolish!_ - -But that was a trivial offence compared to taking a poor girl for a -wife, with nothing but a common, practical education, good health, a -loving heart, and willing hands to recommend her. With his cultivated -and refined tastes, what happiness could he hope for in such -companionship? But then he _would_ be a farmer, and perhaps she would -be all that a farmer’s wife need be. - -We have often thought of the tone of this conversation. For what do -men generally marry, and what estimate do they put upon their wives? -How many really good husbands ever realize how large a share of the -prosperity of their home, its comforts and success, they owe to their -wives. The husband earns the money, it may be, but does he ever make an -estimate, a fair business estimate of what it would cost, in dollars -and cents, to _buy_ the care and comforts that he receives through -his wife’s labors, whatever may be their standing in the community? -Particularly is this a pertinent question in regard to a farmer’s wife. - -While this subject and the conversation just alluded to were fresh in -mind, we chanced to pick up a stray paper which spoke quite clearly on -some of the points in question. We subjoin a few sentences. They may -not come exactly under the head of “talks with young housekeepers,” but -they certainly belong to the “Household.” Besides, while we are on such -intimate terms with the wife, common courtesy demands that some little -attention should be paid to the husband. - -“We will for the present leave out of sight all sentiment, all -reference to the little comforts and felicities that go to make up the -sum of domestic happiness, and come right to the practical question, -‘Does a young woman, who comes to her husband with little or no dowry, -but with willing heart and hands and a fair share of intelligence, who -takes care of him, of his house, and of his family as it increases, -often without any hired help, really earn anything more than her board -and clothing?’ - -“No man will deny that a good wife is a treasure. Her care and labor -certainly secure him many comforts; but how much would he consider them -worth in dollars and cents? It is a great comfort to a husband to have -his three meals a day properly cooked and prepared at hours that suit -his convenience. He can swallow a dinner in twenty or thirty minutes, -that it has taken most of the wife’s forenoon to prepare. He thinks it -a good dinner; but how high an estimate think you would he put upon the -labor of preparing it, if required to state the worth in money? - -“With what astonishment and disgust would he look upon his table if set -with dishes that had not been washed since last used; but how high a -money value would he be willing to put upon the one unromantic item -of washing dishes, which, nevertheless, takes so large a share of a -woman’s time? - -“With what satisfaction he puts on the clean, smoothly ironed shirt and -the nicely darned socks! They do not look much like the ones he pulls -off to throw into the wash. - -“Some one had to rub pretty smartly to get the dirt all out; some one -strained over the hot flat-irons to make this shirt so glossy; some -one spent an hour, perhaps while he slept, to darn those unsightly -holes in the heels of these stockings. And if a farmer, it was his -wife most probably that did it all; and not this one week only, but -every week, as sure as the week comes round. Now, he does appreciate -cleanliness, notwithstanding his protestations against washing-days and -house-cleaning; but is he willing to own that it is worth anything _in -money_ if done by his wife? - -“Then comes the case of the milk and butter. Every day it must be -attended to at the proper time, the cream churned, the butter made -and carefully worked and salted. He is proud that his wife makes good -butter, and quite happy to have customers tell him, ‘Your wife makes -better butter than any one round here.’ But then, are not the cows his? -Does he not furnish the food? does he not milk and take care of them? -Is her part really worth anything in dollars and cents? - -“Then, again, her energies are taxed early and late in the care of the -children. She is, of course, an interested party here; but then she -don’t pretend to own but half a share. Is it really worth nothing to -soothe, amuse, correct, teach, and watch over _his_ half of the little -folks as well as her own? This is real brain-work. Where is the man -who will say that this care for their children does not require all -a woman’s wit and wisdom? But if asked to place a pecuniary value -upon this part of a wife’s and mother’s care and labor, to how high a -figure, think you, it would mount? - -“A farmer’s wife, who really does her own work, or faithfully oversees -its being done, which is by far the most trying part, has no easy task; -but we would ask for her only what is justly her due. If there is any -standard by which her services can be rightly estimated, we would like -to know it. We wish to know whether there be any surplus in her favor; -whether, when she asks for a few dollars for some purpose not strictly -necessary (a book, for instance), she ought to feel that she is asking -for her husband’s hard-earned means, or whether she has a right to -feel that it is her due? How much must a wife credit to her husband’s -generosity; how much use with a free conscience as her own faithfully -earned portion of their joint labors?” - -Young men will do wisely to give this matter a serious thought, lest -they make the mistake of taking a wife’s labor and attentions as a -matter of course, as a right, instead of feeling that in taking his -name, his wife claims, not only an equal right to his cares and labors, -joys and sorrows, but also an equal right to a proper use of the money -which she has done her part to earn or to save. A wife, a farmer’s wife -particularly, has too much toil and perpetual watchfulness to make her -life desirable, if with it all she is to be considered a beggar, a -recipient of charity, instead of a joint partner with her husband in -all that he has. - - - - -XX. - -TEACH LITTLE BOYS TO BE USEFUL. - - -HOW often, when anything has been said of teaching little boys to be -useful, have we heard mothers exclaim, “What an idea! Teach _boys_ -to be useful! I wish you would tell me how; for of all the restless, -awkward, mischievous, troublesome comforts on the face of the earth, -I do think boys are the most trying. I am sure I love my boys just as -much as I do my girls; but it is so much harder to manage them, to keep -them out of mischief, to know what to do with them. They were vexatious -enough when we were boarding; but now, when, with four children on -my hands, I am but just entering upon my novitiate as a housekeeper, -feeling my way step by step, they fret me woefully. They are under my -feet all the time. Too young to be sent to school more than a few hours -a day, or to be turned out unattended, to play with chance companions, -they hang about me, uneasy, restless, fractious, teasing for something -continually. I often think it would be a comfort could we put them on -a shelf to sleep through the unquiet, turbulent period of childhood, -to wake up full-grown men. My little girls can always find something -to do, but the boys--_make boys useful, indeed!_ It would be a true -benefactor who could teach mothers how to accomplish such a marvellous -thing!” - -Well, I notice that you very wisely and skillfully combine instruction -with amusement in your management of your little girls. I watched with -much interest how pleasantly you were teaching them to be useful, while -they found work to be only amusement. “I wonder which of these little -girls would like to run and bring mamma a few apples”; and away, in -great glee, trotted little three-year-old Kitty, with her little basket. - -“Would Mary like to help mamma pare this nice red apple? Which, think -you, can make the largest paring without breaking?” How happy the -little lady was to leave her play and make the trial! Why not make the -same effort to amuse and instruct your little boys? - -“Would you have me teach them to set the table, wash dishes, sew, or -try to work?” - -Do you not believe they can be taught all this as easily as girls? We -hold that, in a large family, each one, boy or girl, should be taught -to be useful; to help their mother indoors and out, and, above all, -learn to help themselves. This they cannot do if allowed to be idle. - -In the city, and in families that depend entirely on hired help, it is -more difficult to train children to be industrious and useful. It is -not well to let the young, imitative little ones be much with servants, -certainly not unless the mother is there also; and all instructions -of a practical nature should be given by her, and practised under her -eye. Wealth is by no means to be despised; but when it is so employed -as to remove all labor from us, or to so free us from care that we -do not teach our children how to make themselves serviceable, it is -no blessing, and may become a curse. Those who have begun life poor, -and worked their way to wealth by real hard labor, forget, when their -children start up around them, how much true, solid pleasure was in -their struggle for this well-earned prosperity, and as they relax their -exertions and begin to feel the enervating effects of wealth, they -remember only the hardship, forgetting the pleasure. Because there is -now no absolute necessity for it, they shrink from permitting their -children to follow in their early footsteps, and so cheat them out of -the strength and independence for which no amount of gold can in any -way compensate. - -But we are neglecting the boys. We will give you an example which will -explain somewhat our idea of making children useful, boys and girls -alike. - -We remember a large family in which there were seven boys. They were -not _driven_ to work, but from their earliest childhood were, little -by little, trained to understand and do all kinds of _outdoor_ work -pertaining to a large farm; but it was also understood that they -were to lend a helping hand _indoors_ whenever the mother or sisters -needed them. They knew they would only be called in when it was quite -necessary, but very early recognized the importance of knowing how -to do anything that came before them. If the mother or sisters were -sick or absent, they could so far fill up the gap as to keep things -comfortable till health was restored. They could dress the youngest, -make a bed, sweep a room, make a cup of tea or coffee, broil a steak, -or wash the dishes in a very satisfactory manner. - -When quite little, not old enough to undertake heavy or rough work, -they were allowed any amount of play, but it was expected that all but -the baby must do something useful, something that was _work_, in the -course of each day. So, little by little, as they trotted about after -mother, they gathered up many things which, in mature life, were of -great value. - -The family lived some miles from church, and as it was customary to -have preaching in both morning and afternoon, with Sabbath-school -between services, they took a slight lunch of crackers or gingerbread, -stayed through all, and returned in season for a late dinner and tea -united. Now it was a settled rule that the parents and part of the -children should go to church every Sunday, rain or shine; and the -oldest children, boys and girls, took turns in staying at home to get -dinner and take care of the baby. - -They all took great pride in having everything in order, and a good -dinner all ready, when the church-goers returned; and the boys’ -housekeeping was as creditable as the girls’. None felt it to be a -hardship; on the contrary, those who were too young to be left in -charge looked forward with great anxiety to the time when they should -be allowed to “take their turn” with the older and more favored ones. - -When these boys left home for school or college, a box, with scissors, -needles, thread, and buttons, was always placed in each trunk; and the -lost buttons were replaced and the ever-recurring rents repaired by -their own hands; and with the stitches went many thanks daily to the -wise mother who had taught them to take care of themselves, as well as -be helpful to others. - -Now, my dear young housekeeper and anxious mother, do you not think -your little sons would be less restless and fretful, and far more -happy, if you allowed them to “make b’lieve” that they were a most -important help to you, until, by a little patience and indulgence, you -succeeded in making the imaginary help a reality, which would repay -you in later years for all the slight inconvenience and annoyance you -experienced in teaching them, and insure comfort and independence to -your sons, under whatever circumstances they might be placed. - - - - -XXI. - -BLEACHING, STARCHING, AND REMOVING STAINS. - - -A YOUNG housekeeper writes us: “Without the least knowledge of domestic -concerns, I passed from the school-room into the position of a farmer’s -wife. Together with other things of which I am ignorant, I need some -minute directions for starching, ironing, removing stains, etc. Any -hints on these points would be very acceptable to me, and I doubt not -to many others. I can now succeed very well in managing the cooking -and butter-making, but am sorely tried about my washing and ironing -sometimes. With cooking and butter-making, my sewing and babies, -I have enough to do, and feel like evading the care or oversight -of the washing and ironing, but cannot. There are so many kinds of -stains,--fruit, tea, and grass stains. Then if the girl succeeds in -doing the washing pretty well, she makes such work with the starching, -and _smuts_ the clothes so badly in ironing, that I am much troubled. -Whether not particular enough in cooking or straining the starch, I -don’t know.” - -We judge from this letter that our friend is obliged to depend on -“hired help” for her washing and ironing. We think we can show her how -to succeed as well in this department as she seems to have done in -cooking and butter-making; but whether she can manage to secure the -observance of our directions by the girl in the laundry, is another -and very doubtful question. One of the hardest of the housekeeper’s -trials with the servants of the present day is their unwillingness to -receive any directions or counsels about the mode of doing their work; -yet they seem utterly without any capacity to plan or arrange their -labor for themselves, so that it may be performed in the best and -easiest manner. They will be an hour in doing that which with a little -forethought or method could have been done in one third of the time, -and in no one item of household labor do they manifest their total want -of system so strikingly as in the laundry; yet they will not be taught -a more excellent way. - -With regard to stains, which are a grief of heart to all good -housekeepers, it is much surer and less troublesome to remove them when -fresh; and the eye of the mistress must watch over this, or they will -be left to dry, and most likely be overlooked when the washing is done. - -Most, if not all, _fruit_ stains can be taken out if stretched over -a dish or pail, and _boiling_ water slowly poured over them. If the -stains have not been allowed to dry long, this will speedily remove -them. But if they have, unfortunately, been put into the wash, the -soapsuds will “set” the stains, and then, when discovered, they should -be dipped in “Javelle water” or “bleaching fluid.” They should remain -in this but a few moments, then be well rubbed and put at once into -the boiler, and, as a general thing, when the article is taken from -the boiler to rinse, the stain will have disappeared. If the stains -from tea or grass are fresh, “Javelle water,” or a little ammonia, will -easily remove them; but in either case, if done before the regular -washing, the article should be well washed and spread on the grass to -bleach and dry. Stains that have been long dried, or washed and boiled -in before they were noticed, are much more difficult to remove. Ink -stains can be taken out of linen as follows:-- - -Wash the spot in salt and water as soon after the ink is on as you can, -taking care that it is not put into suds before it has been well washed -in the salt and water, and then sponged with lemon-juice, else the soap -will instantly “set” the color, making it almost impossible ever to -remove the ink. - -When ink is spilled on the carpet or on woolen goods, if attended to -instantly after the accident, it can be taken out entirely by sweet -milk. First, wipe off carefully all that can be soaked up by a handful -of cotton batting. Then have a dish of sweet milk ready, and dipping -the clean cotton batting in it, wash the spot, changing the batting for -a clean piece as soon as it gets black with the ink; and also get clean -milk, when the first becomes discolored. Continue this till the ink no -longer shows; then take a pad of hot suds and a clean cloth, and wash -as far as the milk has wet; rinse with clean warm water, and rub dry -with a clean cloth. We have never known this to fail. - -Ink spots, paint, or grease can be removed from clothing by mixing four -table-spoonfuls of spirits of hartshorn, the same quantity of alcohol, -and one table-spoonful of table salt. Mix it well and apply with a -sponge or brush. Wash off with clear alcohol. - -To remove ink stains from colored articles, drop hot tallow on the -spot; then soak and rub it with boiling milk. This will be found -effectual. Of course, the tallow and milk must be afterward washed off, -either with soapsuds or alcohol, else a grease spot will be left. - -Your oil-cloth should never be scrubbed with a brush, and on no account -use soapsuds or hot water. It has a bad effect on the paint, and the -cloth will not last as long. After sweeping, wash with soft flannel -and lukewarm or cold water. Let the oil-cloth get thoroughly dry; then -prepare a small bit of bees-wax, softened with a little turpentine, -and rub the cloth well with this preparation, using for that purpose a -soft furniture polishing-brush. This need not be done every week, but -whenever the oil-cloth grows dingy. Cared for in this way, it will last -twice as long as with the ordinary scrubbing, and always look fresh -and new. - -A less troublesome way, but not quite so effective, is to wash the -oil-cloth, after sweeping and washing with flannel and warm water, with -sweet skim-milk, and then rub very dry with a clean dry cloth. Wipe -straight one way of the cloth, not round and round, as that will give a -cloudy, unpleasant look to the cloth. - -When clothes have become yellow or of a bad color from poor washing or -from lying unused some time, it is well to take them, after boiling, -from the first suds and spread on the grass to bleach, while another -boilerful is being washed. When the second is put on to boil, take -up those that have been bleaching on the grass and rinse faithfully -through two generous rinsing waters; the last water to be blued. Then -pass through the wringer, starching such as need it in hot starch, -unless you prefer to wait till you fold them, and hang up to dry. Then -take the second lot from the boiler, and leave on the grass to bleach, -while you get the coarser articles washed and on to boil. This done, -take up the second, rinse and hang out, and so on till all the white -clothes are on the line. - -Most servants object to the bleaching, and they wash all the white -clothes and leave them wrung out in piles in the baskets till all are -washed, before they hang up anything. This is poor work. The clothes -become yellow and streaked by lying in coils as they come from the -wringer, and under such management it is impossible to make them look -clear and white. The sooner they are on the line after passing through -the last rinsing, the clearer the clothes will be, and if well snapped -as they are hung up, and pulled straight and evenly on the line, -one finds compensation for the little extra trouble--and it is very -little--in the greater ease with which they can be folded and ironed. - -It is well to bleach clothes while washing, all through the pleasant -weeks of spring, summer, and fall, as it can be so much better done -than in winter. One hour on the clean grass before rinsing is long -enough. It is not well to leave clothes out overnight when it can be -helped, as they are liable to be trampled over by cats and dogs during -the night, or be spotted by the drip of the dew or fogs from the trees -or vines. - -For _blueing_ there is nothing better than the “Nuremberg Ultramarine -Blue,” which comes in pretty little balls about the size of a small -cherry, at from fifty to seventy-five cents a box. One box with care, -in a medium-sized family, will last several months. The balls must be -tied into a blueing-bag, and used like common blueing. - -A large fire-proof earthen saucepan or one of the yellow-ware pipkins -is better than tin or iron to make starch in; but if these are not to -be found, a tin kettle will do very well, if kept bright and clean, and -never used for any other purpose. When cooking it should be carefully -attended to, and then there is no danger of its scorching. - -Two even teaspoonfuls of starch for each shirt, a salt-spoonful of -salt, a piece of sperm or white wax as large as a pea, or, if these are -not to be had, that much lard or butter, is a good rule. Use enough -cold water to wet the starch, so that it can be stirred free from lumps -and beaten perfectly smooth, then pour on boiling water. It is not easy -to give the quantity of water to this amount of starch, as the tastes -vary in regard to the stiffness of collars and bosoms. The starch must -be stirred often, and boil slowly from fifteen to twenty minutes. Skim -and strain while hot into a large wooden bowl or earthen dish; keep -a bag for straining starch, which should never be used for anything -else; but it is safe to keep close watch, or towels, napkins, etc., -will be used for this purpose instead of the bag. It is not long since -we found one recommended as a _splendid_ laundress straining starch -through a _shirt-sleeve_, which was tied about the wrist with a fine -handkerchief. A good starch-bag was hanging not six feet off. “Never -mind, my lady, I’ll wash it all out.” - -If you prefer to starch after the clothes are dried, wet the bosoms, -collars, and wristbands in hot water, wring very dry, and starch while -the cloth is yet warm. Rub the starch in faithfully, wring in a dry -towel to remove all starch that may adhere to the outside, spread the -garments out evenly, rub with a dry cloth, roll up tightly, and let -them remain two or three hours before ironing. - -In cold weather it is safe to dampen and fold clothes at night, and -then it is desirable to have the starched clothes ironed first. In -warm weather starched clothes should never be dampened or folded till -morning, as there is danger of the starch becoming sour and mildewing; -and unless there is a cool, airy room to leave them in, it is not safe -to sprinkle and fold anything, for they may mildew in a warm room in a -night. - -If any article needs mending, it is well to do it before ironing. When -ironed, fold and press each article neatly, and hang evenly on the -clothes-bars, leaving them there till perfectly dry. Fold shirts so -that the bosoms will not be bent in the drawer. Collars should be kept -in round boxes. Ladies’ undergarments should be folded so as to bring -the sleeves and necks outside. It is no more trouble, and it certainly -is pleasant to have a drawer look neat and attractive when one opens -it. It is what a good old grandmother used to call _sort o’ restful to -look at_. Skirts should be made not much stiffer than new cotton. The -noise of a very stiff skirt when one is walking is not the pleasantest -music. They should be either hung up in a deep wardrobe or folded -together lightly and laid on a broad shelf. - - - - -XXII. - -TO IRON SHIRTS, VESTS, AND EMBROIDERIES. - - -SHIRTS cannot be ironed with ease and ironed well without a -bosom-board. It should be made of pine, well seasoned and entirely free -from gum; one and a half inches thick, one foot nine inches long, and -eighteen inches wide; very smooth and straight; rounded on one end, and -rubbed with sand-paper to remove all roughness. The square end must -also be smooth, and with a hole in the middle near the edge, to hang -it up by. Take two or three thicknesses of an old woolen blanket and -cover one side. Stretch it very smooth and tight, and fasten to the -board with tacks. Use the galvanized tacks, so that the clothes will -not be iron-rusted by coming in contact with them. When tacking on the -last side, be sure and draw both thicknesses of blanket very tight, so -that there may be no wrinkles. Over the blanket tack two thicknesses of -Canton flannel, the fleecy side up. Bring the edges of both blanket and -cotton over the sides, so that when nailed you can cut them even with -the other side of the board. Then turn it over and cover the other side -with thick flour paste, and stretch over it a piece of Canton flannel; -when this is quite dry, paste on another, and so on, as each becomes -perfectly dry, till you have four thicknesses of Canton flannel pasted -together on the board; the last one being trimmed so as to lap over -and be tacked on to the side of the board, thus making a neat finish -and covering up all rough edges. The soft side is to iron embroidery, -Marseilles vests, and other figured articles on; the hard side to be -used in giving a polish to shirt-bosoms, collars, etc. - -The bosom-board being thus prepared, make cotton covers to slip over -all, fitting as tightly to the board as they can and yet allow of its -being readily removed without tearing. Be careful to have these covers -changed after each week’s use. - -A skirt-board should also be kept in every house to iron skirts and -dresses. This must be six feet long, eighteen inches wide at the -bottom, one third narrower at the top, and one and a half inches thick. -The top should be rounded. Cover one side with two or three thicknesses -of an old blanket, as directed for the soft side of the bosom-board; -tack on smoothly; cover the other side with coarse cotton, and nail -over on to the edge of the board, so as to cover the raw edges of -the blanket. Have cotton cases also made for the skirt-boards, to be -changed and washed with each week’s use. - -Covers for the holders will also pay for the trouble of making them, -as they insure, as far as possible, against smut on the clothes when -ironing. But to make this _pay_, the housekeeper must be put to the -slight inconvenience of seeing herself that these covers are changed, -and follow up this care by promptly demanding them, when each fresh -washing comes up, to be put away with the other clean things. - -The ironing-table should be covered with a thick blanket, doubled, and -that with a cotton sheet. A coarse, thick, gray or white blanket, like -an “army blanket,” may be bought quite cheap; they come on purpose for -“ironing-blankets,” and answer just as well as a better quality. - -_Flat-irons_ should be carefully kept from dampness, which soon rusts -them. Leave them standing on the end; they soon spoil if set on the -face. If they become rusty, scour with emery till quite smooth, or, if -past your skill, send to an emery factory and have them ground smooth. -Keep a piece of yellow bees-wax, wrapped in a cloth in the drawer of -your ironing-table, to rub the irons on in case they get coated with -starch. Have a clean cloth at hand to wipe them on before using, each -time you take a fresh one from the stove. - -Having our ironing-table, bosom-board, and other implements now all -ready, we will attend to the ironing. - -A perfectly clean sheet must be spread over the other ironing-sheet -before commencing to iron the starched clothes. In ironing a shirt, -begin with the binding at the neck; then fold the back in the middle -and iron; then iron the sleeves, and wristbands, if there are -wristbands on the shirt; fold the sleeve in neat plaits and press -them hard after ironing; then iron the plain part of the shirt and -the collar, if on the shirt, ironing the bosom last. Iron the bosom -and collar on the bosom-board; rub the bosom over lightly with a damp -cloth, and iron hard and quickly with a polishing-iron. If you have -none, you should get one if possible. They are found at all hardware -stores. They are rounded instead of being flat, like other irons, -without an edge, and very smooth, so that no mark of the iron is left -on the article ironed. This iron is very convenient to use for caps, -vests, and many small things. - -In ironing a shirt-collar, pass the iron rapidly over the wrong side, -then iron the band, lastly the right side of the collar, which should -be well polished, and ironed till perfectly dry. - -Gentlemen’s linen or duck pants should be ironed on a pants-board, -prepared like the soft side of a bosom-board, and as nearly the full -length as possible. The pockets must be turned outside before ironing, -that they may leave no crease on the pants. Hang pants to air by the -straps or the waistbands. - -In ironing a skirt, slip the skirt-board through by the round -end. Have a clothes-basket or clean sheet on the floor under the -skirt-board, so that the skirt may fall on it as you iron. - -Have a large piece of mosquito net over the clothes-bars to protect the -articles already ironed from flies, dust, etc. - -Cake-napkins, doilies, or towels that are fringed, must be well snapped -while damp, to leave the fringe smooth and untangled. Some use a -fringe-comb. This is very well occasionally, but we think, if often -used, it tears the fringe, and soon gives a thin, worn-out, ragged look -to the article. - -Muslin dresses need to be about as stiff as new muslin, the starch -being strained into the last rinsing water. White gum-arabic added to -the starch is very nice for muslin dresses; they iron easier, and look -newer. Dark muslins must be starched in rice-water or gum-arabic, as -common starch leaves white patches over the dark color after ironing. -Iron, as far as possible, on the wrong side. - -To make good rice-starch, boil a pound of rice in four or five quarts -of water; let it boil until perfectly soft, adding boiling water as -fast as it boils out, so as to keep up the same quantity of water all -the time; stir frequently and break it up as much as possible while -boiling. When the rice is as soft as it will boil, pour the whole into -a gallon of water and strain through a thick cloth. It is said that -eighty drops of elixir of vitriol put into three gallons of clear -spring water and one of rice-water, thus prepared, is excellent to set -the color. We have never tried it. Ox gall _we know_ is good to fix the -color in calico or muslin, as well as to cleanse grease and dirt from -woolens. There is nothing better to clean broadcloths, coats, vests, -and pants. Get the butcher to fill a bottle with the gall, and put four -or five spoonfuls into about three quarts of hot soapsuds, and sponge -the garments with it, carefully rubbing every spot. When dirt and spots -are removed, sponge in clear hot water, and hang the garment up by -seams of the arm-holes of coats and vests, and waistbands of pants, -where they will dry quickly. Press on the wrong side when about half -dry. Woolen dresses may be cleaned in the same manner. - - - - -XXIII. - -A TALK ABOUT BEDS. - - -AS we look around silently among the many young housekeepers, we think -we hear some of them say, or, if they don’t, they ought to, “I am -ashamed to ask any one into my chambers, for my beds are a perpetual -vexation to me. They look as if tossed up by a whirl-wind; the mattress -laid on unevenly, every inequality as visible as if the occupants had -just risen. The sheets and blankets never find their proper place, and -the pillows are as hard and knotty as if made of cotton batting. I try -to teach my girl how to do the work properly, but unfortunately am too -ignorant myself to speak with authority, and I have no doubt she is -aware of my deficiencies, so my words are idle breath to her.” - -If you don’t know how to _tell_ a girl, go to the rooms with her and -_show_ her how you wish the work done. That will be the easiest mode -for you, and more likely to be remembered by the pupil. - -“Alas! I don’t know how to make a bed neatly myself. I never attempted -it in my life, until I was married. Ah! if I ever have daughters, they -shall be taught how to care for their own rooms, and make their own -beds neatly, however rich we may become, or however many servants we -may employ.” - -That is wise and right. Though riches may relieve one of much hard -labor, they should not enervate, or incapacitate for such an amount of -exercise as is necessary to secure a vigorous muscular development, -and also enable one, in an emergency, to step in and perform with ease -and independence whatever there is to be done. Riches cannot insure us -against a “hitch” in the domestic machinery now and then, and every -girl should be so taught that, in her father’s house or in her own, she -can bring “order out of confusion” by an independent use of her own -hands. - -It is, as I have said in an earlier talk, important that once a week, -at least, everything should be removed from the bedsteads in order that -all the dust and lint, which will lodge about them, may be removed, and -occasionally they need a faithful washing, to rid them of the dust and -lint which will settle in the slats, about the joints, springs, and -moldings. - -The mattress should be thrown up every morning for a good airing, and -when this is done turn it over, under side up, and then proceed to make -the bed. - -Making beds is a very simple thing. Every housekeeper may have -some rules differing from her neighbor in this as well as in every -department of labor; but there are some that are common to all. - -Having placed the mattress evenly on the springs or palliasse, beat -it hard to remove lumpy places, and next spread over the under sheet -_right side up_, with the wide hem at the top, and raising up the -mattress with the left hand, fold the sheet smoothly under at the top -and bottom; then fold under at each side, bringing the sheet very tight -and smooth across the mattress. By having a wide hem at the top and -a narrow one at the bottom, there is less danger that by any one’s -carelessness you may some time sleep with that part of the sheet to -your face which the night before covered your feet. Now spread over the -upper sheet, _right side down_; then as you put the finishing touch to -the bed, in turning the upper sheet down on the spread at the top, the -right side of the hem will be outside. In spreading on the upper sheet, -bring it well up to the head of the bed, that you may have a handsome, -generous width to turn down; lay it very smooth and straight, then put -on the blankets, folding both upper sheet and blankets nicely under at -the foot; but bring them only so far up at the head as will cover the -shoulders, and not turn down doubled across them. - -The bed-spread comes next. It should be put on very evenly, the middle -fold of the spread coming just in the middle of the bed, drawing it up -toward the head about as high as the upper sheet, a full foot above -the blankets. Now lift the top of the blankets with one hand and fold -the spread smoothly under them, on one side of the bed, then pass to -the other side and proceed in like manner. By this mode, the spread -will prevent you from being annoyed with the rough blankets, should the -sheet get misplaced during the night. This done, turn the upper sheet -down over all, drawing it as smoothly as possible, and tuck all down at -the sides, between the bedstead and the mattress. When tucking under -the last side, draw the spread, blankets, and upper sheet as taut and -straight as possible, giving the sides of the bed as even and true a -line as you can. Now put on the _sheet tidy_, if you use them; and they -are desirable, even if made of cotton, and perfectly plain, as after -one night’s use the upper sheet becomes wrinkled and tumbled, and the -bed cannot be made to look as neat as one could wish. Then lay on the -bolster, well beaten up, in its clean, white case, placing the pillows, -which have also been faithfully beaten, above all, and dress them with -tidies, to match the sheet tidy. - -Some prefer to have the bolster put on beneath the under-sheet, in -which case the sheet is drawn so high up as to allow plenty of room to -fold under the lower side of the bolster, before turning under the head -of the mattress. - -A bed thus made will be smooth and level on the top, without a wrinkle, -and as square and straight at the sides as if boxed in wood. - -This is all so very simple, after one becomes accustomed to it, -that the old ladies, who have all the mysteries of housekeeping as -familiar and entirely at their command as the alphabet, will shake -their heads and vote this a very stupid waste of time and space; but -they have forgotten how acceptable minute directions were in their -young days. So we will encourage ourselves by hoping that some tired -young housekeeper, who has groaned over ill-made beds, may find a few -crumbs of comfort here, which will remove a part, at least, of her many -annoyances. - - - - -XXIV. - -MARKETING. - - -IT is very important that every lady should understand how to select -and purchase such stores as may be needed in her family. This knowledge -must be acquired in girlhood. Mothers should allow their daughters -to accompany them occasionally in their market expeditions, quietly -explaining, as they pass from one stall to another examining the -various articles needed, their reasons for rejecting or purchasing. We -are all inclined to put off, from day to day, this part of our domestic -instructions which our daughters greatly need; “we are too busy,” “in a -great hurry,” and “can’t be hindered,” by answering the thousand whys -and wherefores with which young children follow us. It is, to be sure, -something of an annoyance, but very trifling compared with the pleasure -our daughters will take in going with us through our daily rounds, if -we begin this training while they are small. Let them occasionally make -a few purchases themselves; give them their choice from among certain -unimportant articles, and then explain the rule by which they will know -how to select the best or reject the imperfect. Such lessons must begin -early, or, ere we are aware, our little girl has discarded her dolls -and stands by our side, a lovely woman; and before we realize this -bewildering change the voice of the charmer has awaked another love in -her heart, for which she leaves father and mother for a new home and -new cares. Happy for us, if we have so taught her that this new yoke -shall be easy and these new burdens light. - -In marketing, we would not advise roaming from one store or market to -another, after one has become sufficiently acquainted in a city or -village to have a correct idea of the quality of the produce and the -character of the vender. Until this knowledge is well acquired, it -is important for one’s own security to make trial of many; but when -well assured that you have gained a fair estimate of both quality and -character, it is, we think, better to make most of the purchases at one -place. The grocer, butcher, fish and poultry dealer will take greater -interest in faithfully serving a regular customer, at reasonable rates, -than one who may not buy of him again for weeks; and it certainly is a -greater saving of time and trouble to purchase of one than of many. If -they cannot supply your present needs, it is for their interest to send -out and procure what you want; and we think they generally do this with -pleasure, and with a hearty wish to give you the best. - -In buying _Beef_, remember that ox beef is the best. The animal should -be five or six years old before it is killed, if you would have the -best beef. If well fed it will be fine grained; the lean should be of -a bright red color, and well mingled with fat. If there is not a good -quantity of fat running through it, the beef will be tough and not -well flavored. The fat should be a rich clear white, just tinged with -yellow, and firm, and the suet also. Heifer or cow beef is paler than -ox beef, firmer grained, the fat a clear white, and the bones smaller, -but it is not as rich or juicy. When the animal is too old or badly -fed, it is of a dark red, the fat skinny and tough, and in very old -beef a horny substance will be found running through the ribs. When it -is pressed, if the meat rises quickly from the finger it is good; but -if the finger-dent rises slowly or not at all, do not buy it; it is -poor meat. The sirloin and the middle ribs are the best for roasting. -If you buy a sirloin, have it cut from the “chump end,” which has a -good undercut or fillet. The rump is often preferred by epicures, but -being too large to roast whole, a roast is usually cut from what is -called the “chump end.” Porter-house steak is the best for broiling, -but not the most economical. One rib is too small for baking; it dries -in cooking, and is not good economy, unless you take out the bone, roll -the meat and stuff it, when it makes a nice dish for a small family. - -_Veal_ should be small and white, the kidney well covered with fat. -If the calf is over ten weeks old the meat will be coarse. The flesh -should be dry and white. If coarse-grained, moist, and clammy, have -nothing to do with it. The fillet, loin, and shoulder are the best -for roasting. The breast, well cut and jointed, makes a fine stew or -pot-pie, and is better economy than when baked or roasted. Veal is -excellent to make “stock” for soups; the knuckle or the poorer parts of -the neck are just as good for soup as the more expensive parts. - -_Mutton_ should be dark colored, and have plenty of fat. The color -determines the age, and age is considered a mark of excellence in -mutton. It should be five or six years old to satisfy a lover of -mutton. All the joints may be roasted but the saddle, and next to that, -the haunch; the leg and loin undivided are the best; chops are cut from -the loin, cutlets from the leg, the best end of the neck, or thick end -of the loin. The leg and neck are often boiled. - -_Lamb_ should be small, pale red, and fat. It is best roasted. The leg, -when the lamb attains a good size, is excellent boiled. - -_Pork_ should never be bought except from a butcher whose honesty you -are sure of, and who knows where the pork was fattened. It is not -a very healthful meat at the best, and none should be used unless -corn-fed. There is much bad or diseased pork sold, and it is very -dangerous food. If the flesh feels flabby or clammy to the touch, it is -not good, and should not on any account be used. If there are kernels -in the fat, let it alone. The fat should be hard, the lean white and -fine in the grain, and the rind thin and smooth. - -As soon as your meat of any kind is brought home from the butcher’s, -wipe it with a clean dry cloth. If in summer you find any “fly-blows,” -which is very common, cut them out at once, and no harm will be done. -In the loins a long pipe runs by the bone; that should be taken out -immediately, or in a few hours it will taint and spoil the whole joint. -If the meat is not to be used at once, dredge it with pepper. Powdered -charcoal dusted over meat will help to keep it sweet, or will remove -any taint already begun. It is wise to keep charcoal on hand during -warm weather; it is wonderfully efficacious in preserving meat, and, -if dusted over it while hanging, it can all be washed off when you -are ready to cook it. Most meat is more tender and easily digested -if kept hanging some time, and charcoal is a great and reliable aid -in preserving it. Lamb and veal cannot be kept as safely as beef and -mutton. - -In choosing _Fowls_, bear in mind that the male bird, if young, will -have a smooth leg and a short spur, eyes bright and full, feet supple. -The hen may be judged by the same signs, and if these are not found, be -sure the birds are stale and old. - -Ducks, geese, and pigeons should have pliable feet; if stiff, they are -old. In all the vent should be firm; if discolored or flabby, they are -stale. This last sign should be remembered in judging of all poultry or -game. - -The eyes of _Fish_ should be bright, the gills clear red, body stiff, -and smell not unpleasant,--or rather, not stale, for we imagine that -fish can never be of a pleasant smell, however palatable it may be to -the taste. - -As far as possible, buy all stores by the quantity; if nothing else, -you save the weight of paper, no small item in the course of a year; -but there is always some reduction when an article is purchased at -wholesale. You save the retail commission, if nothing more. - -In warm weather, meats, of course, cannot be bought in large -quantities, unless for a large family who are in possession of a good -ice-house. Rice, tapioca, raisins, etc., are an exception to this -rule, for they should never be bought in large quantities, except for -boarding-houses or hotels, as they are very easily filled with insects. - -A store-room should be very dry, and supplied with a good number of -shelves and drawers for stores of all kinds. A thick slab should be -placed across from one end to the other, so high that nothing suspended -from it will hit the head in passing through it. In this it is well -to have some strong hooks to hang hams, dried beef, tongues, baskets, -etc. A neat step-ladder should be kept in one corner, by which you can -easily reach whatever is needed. These hooks are a great convenience, -not only to put away your marketing, but so many things keep better -for being suspended where there can be free circulation of air; and -a store-room must be well ventilated. Eggs keep well hung up in a -basket, or in _nets_ made for that purpose. Buy your lemons in June -and July, when freshest, cheapest, and most plentiful, by the box, and -suspend them on these hooks in nets, and they will keep all summer. - - - - -XXV. - -TRUST YOUR CHILDREN. - - -THERE is no lesson that so well repays the teacher as that by which -children are taught to feel that they are _trusted_; that father and -mother commit matters of importance to their care, with confidence that -they will not disappoint them. Begin this teaching while the child is -yet young. Of course you must gauge the importance of the trust by the -age of the child, taking care that you do not tax the little one beyond -its capacity, but being just as careful to have it understand that you -are in earnest. It is a great event in a child’s life when it first -feels that you look to it with loving confidence for the performance -of certain duties that you have trusted to its honor. The feeling of -responsibility which comes with this knowledge awakens self-respect, -and the care and faithfulness which the youngest sees must be necessary -to the satisfactory execution of the work will be good seed sown, which -in after years will bear fruit, amply repaying all the trouble it cost -to prepare the soil for its reception. That such teaching is not the -easiest duty one can accept, every mother knows full well, and would -much prefer to do the work herself, if conscience permitted, than be -subjected to the tediousness and annoyance of drilling a child to do -it. But this is a mother’s mission, which it is not wise to delegate to -another. - -When a child has been repeatedly shown precisely how to do certain -things, begin to leave these little _chores_ for it to do alone when -you are not near. Let it be something trivial at first, of course. Say -to the little two-year-old, “Mamma must go out for a little while. I -am sorry to leave the nursery in such disorder; but Eddie is such a -helpful little man, he will put all the blocks and ‘Noah’s Ark’ up just -as I like to see them; and little Kitty, too, knows how I wish her to -fold the doll’s clothes and lay them in the drawer, when her play is -over; I am sure this room will look very nice when I return.” - -If this kindly training is begun early, do you not know how proud -and happy these miniature men and women will feel when this work is -intrusted to their care,--a token of mother’s confidence in their -ability? Of course, it may be necessary to be a little _short-sighted_ -when you return, and pass over for the time some few items that -will bear improvement; but let these wait. Appear pleased--_be -pleased_--with their efforts; give as much sweet praise as is -judicious, to gladden their little hearts. It will be time enough when -the next trial is made to say, “I think I would fold this little dress -so,” or, “Put those books here.” Gentle hints, interspersed with all -possible approval, will fix the lesson, so that you can soon feel safe -to put the play-room almost wholly in the care of quite young children, -except the sweeping or other work beyond their strength. But these -lessons, as we said before, must begin early, else the child will learn -to prefer being waited upon to doing the work itself. - -As your child can bear it, add year by year to the trust and -responsibility. Accept the labor as a love-offering to save your time -and strength, and it will not be long before willing hands and happy -hearts will really lighten your labors, and save you many weary steps, -while at the same time they are learning a lesson that will do them -good through life. Vary the teaching, by sending the child, by and -by, out to do a little shopping,--some small thing, but such as will -call for the exercise of taste and a little judgment; nothing of much -importance, so that, should there chance to be a slight mistake, no -great harm will follow; yet so much that the child, by thus learning to -judge and discriminate in small things, will be preparing for greater -ones. - -An expedition of this kind stands out among the brightest of our -childhood memories. It was in a season of severe sickness both at home -and in the vicinity. Our mother was ill, the older children either on -the sick list or absent. It was quite necessary to send to the _shire -town_, twelve miles distant, where, in those “long-ago” days, the most -important shopping was done, and the foreign groceries purchased. -Father had his buggy at the door just ready to start on this tour, -and was making a list of the last items, and directions from mother, -when he was summoned in great haste to a patient. Here was a dilemma! -The purchases _must_ be made; the patient _must_ be cared for. What -was to be done? We were sitting in the south hall-door, playing with -the baby, so near to the sick-room that we could not help hearing the -consultation. Father must go to his patient; but who was to go for -the articles so greatly needed? The “tailoress” would be on hand in -the morning, and the cloth must be had for her work; a tailoress was -an important character in those days, and if we lost _our turn_ there -would be weeks to wait before we could secure her again. That would -never do, for “the boys” must soon return to school, and their clothes -be ready, anyhow. What could be done? We heard the hurried talk, with -a kind of dreamy wonder as to how they would settle the troublesome -question; but, as one who could have no personal interest in the -solution, went on with our frolic with baby, when mother said, “Write -out a list, with full directions, and send E----.” - -What a bound our heart gave! We nearly dropped the baby. _We_, not -twelve years old; and mother thought we could be trusted to do such a -big thing! We felt a half-head taller only to think that mother--bless -her!--thought us capable of it. Whether it was decided that we should -go or not was, just then, quite a secondary consideration, yet we were -“all ears” to catch father’s reply: “Send that child! What does she -know of buying anything? And this is a very important errand.” - -Ah! here our heart collapsed; we didn’t quite want to go,--the work -seemed so great,--but we did want father to think us as trustworthy and -capable as mother did. - -“If you think it safe for her to drive alone so far, I think you -may trust her to do the errand well, with suitable directions. The -merchants and grocers are old friends, and will not take advantage of -the child.” - -“Well, it is the only thing we can do,” said father, with an anxious, -dissatisfied tone, and this great responsibility was committed to our -care. - -How much we thought in that long twelve-miles ride to the town! What -anxious thoughts on the return ride, fearing that we had forgotten -something, or made some ill-advised purchase; but under it all there -was a dull pain to remember that father didn’t quite trust us, which -did not leave us until, safe at home, all the purchases laid out and -examined, he drew us to his knee, close by mother’s sick-bed, and -kissed us, with, “Well done, my brave girl! Hasn’t she done well, -mother?” - -How much good that day’s work did us, giving us courage when duties -seemed too hard for us, we can never estimate; but the most precious -of all was our mother’s trust and father’s approbation. It is only by -love and gentleness that a child can be taught to find real enjoyment -in later or important cares. Exact it as a duty; sternly command, -watch, with constant suspicion and fault-finding, and labor is a -drudgery, and cares of any kind a terror to the young. The child either -becomes stubborn, or, if timid and loving, is so nervously fearful -of being blamed, that this very fear insures the dreaded results. -Ah, if young mothers could know how many hours of self-reproach the -grandmothers pass as they look to the time when their little ones were -around them, and see, too late, how many mistakes they made simply by -their own impatience, over-strictness, and want of confidence in their -children’s good intention and desire to do right, it might save them -from much regret, and their children from many temptations. But each -one must have an experience of her own. When young, we seldom are ready -to profit by the experience of the old, or think them of much more -importance than “old wives’ fables,” but when, after many mistakes, we -arrive at middle age, we are able to estimate their value. - - - - -XXVI. - -WHO INVENTED BREAD? - - -AMONG the countless varieties of food, bread, in some form or other, -has been almost universally recognized as “the staff of life.” When it -became so truly a necessity, or who was the happy inventor, we know -not. How far before the creation wise men have pushed their researches -and discoveries, we have not the skill to ascertain. The first mention -of bread we remember is in the third chapter of Genesis, when Adam was -driven from Paradise and compelled “in the sweat of his face to eat -bread,” “because he hearkened to the voice of his wife.” Many of his -sons have, since their forefathers’ time, regained Paradise, because -they _did_ listen to their wives’ counsels. We wonder if men do not -sometimes forget this, and cherish a little spiteful vindictiveness, -because through the first mother their prototype fell, and he had to -“work for his living.” Perhaps it is this memory which makes them -so restive under the present efforts for a recognition of a broader -platform for “women’s rights.” How silly, brethren! Let bygones be -bygones. Did not the curse fall heavier on us for our first mother’s -folly, than on you for Adam’s very ready participation in it? Don’t -bear malice! Help us up,--not above you, for we do not belong there, -but close by your side,--where we may do good to you, as you do good to -us. If Adam had not been off on a council committee, public dinner, or -at a club house, but working and caring for his farm in Eden with his -wife, we don’t believe Eve would have been tempted, or, being tempted, -would have eaten that miserable apple. But we shall never learn how -bread was invented if we linger. - -“Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground.” The -production of grain for food has always been recognized as the sign of -an advanced stage of civilization. Like most of the early traces of -progress, the time when grain first began to be transformed into bread -is quite obscure. For a long period the grain was eaten, when green, -either raw, boiled, or roasted. The Greeks usually deified every new -thing. Ceres was supposed to have first brought husbandry into some -regular system; therefore they at once constituted her the goddess of -Agriculture; and Pan, according to their belief, invented bread, and -was forthwith exalted into a god; but long before Ceres or Pan were -worshipped, the Egyptians cultivated the earth and made bread from the -grain. - -When the angels appeared on the plains of Mamre and foretold the birth -of a son, in Abraham’s old age, he hastened into a tent and said to -Sarah, “Make ready quickly three measures of meal, knead it, and make -cakes upon the hearth.” - -Many modes of preparing grain, either in cakes or bread, are seen in -the paintings discovered in the tombs of the Egyptians; but doubtless -for many years the chief food was fish, flesh, or fruit. The Indians -used a kind of wild corn, when driven to it by the scarcity of game, -or if unsuccessful in hunting; but they never attempted to cultivate -it. They boiled it when green, or baked it on hot stones, or roasted it -by their fires, as we do the cultivated Indian-corn. Maize or Turkish -wheat and a kind of millet are still used, unground, among the poorer -classes in Egypt, boiled in milk or water, or roasted. - -At a later period, rude stones were made to separate the husks from the -kernel; and not long since, it may be even now, in the remote parts -of Scotland, a large block of hard wood was dug out smoothly, and -after the grain had been well dried, the barley or oats was beaten in -it till the husk was removed. When sufficiently broken or bruised to -loosen the hull, it was scooped up into the hand, little by little, and -blown gently with the mouth to remove all the husk, and then made into -pottage or porridge. It now seems a small thing to have all our grain -ground and sifted by machinery worked by steam; but how tedious must -have been the ancient process! The _quern_ used in Scotland to remove -the husk and prepare the barley for use is supposed to have found its -way thither through the Romans, who always carried hand-mills in their -marches or raids upon other nations. It is very simple, and perhaps the -first kind of corn mill on record. “The quern was made of two stones,” -says Dr. Johnson, “a foot and a half in diameter; the lower stone a -little convex; to which the concavity of the upper stone was fitted. In -the middle of the upper one was a round hole, and on one side a long -handle. The grinder gradually shred the corn into this hole with one -hand, and worked the handle with the other. Thus the corn slid down -into the hollow of the lower stone, and by the motion of the upper was -ground in the passage.” The quern acts so much on the principle of our -mill-stones that our mills might be called querns, built on a larger -scale, and run by steam or machinery. The meal thus ground was made -into pottage or porridge, being boiled in milk or water, or “brose” -when it was roasted, and boiled up in water in which salt meat had been -cooked. - -Who first conceived the idea of using yeast or leaven, or making bread -by any process of fermentation, or at what period it was first so made, -we do not learn. We know that the Israelites made leavened bread; so -did the Egyptians and Grecians; but who first invented yeast or leaven? -The Romans, it is thought, learned the art of bread-making, with many -other valuable lessons, during their war with Perseus, king of Macedon. -On the return of their armies from these wars, they brought Grecian -bakers with them into Italy. This was two hundred years before the -Christian era. Bakers were highly esteemed, and during the reign of -Augustus there were three hundred and twenty-nine public bake-houses in -Rome, chiefly under the management of Greeks, who were for many years -the only ones who could make good bread. They enjoyed many privileges, -and were put in charge of the public granaries. - -The making of fermented bread then gradually found its way into Gaul; -but it was a long time before it was known in Northern Europe. In -the middle of the sixteenth century, unfermented cakes were the only -bread known in Sweden or Norway. It was not till near the end of the -sixteenth century that the use of yeast was much known in Northern -Europe. About that period yeast from Flanders was brought into Paris -as a substitute for leaven. This change greatly improved the bread; but -in 1688 the College of Physicians declared that bread made from yeast -was very injurious, and the government forbade its being used. But the -shrewd Flemish people put up yeast in sacks to allow the liquid part to -filter through, and privately sent it to Paris. The excellence of the -bread thus made became so evident, that the College of Physicians and -their wisdom were forgotten, and the government’s prohibition quietly -allowed to sink into oblivion. Very soon this new and improved method -of preparing bread extended into other countries. - -Leaven is flour and water mixed to a paste and set in a warm -place--from 70° to 80°--till it ferments, first passing into the vinous -and then to the acetous state. Bread made from leaven differs from -that made from yeast by almost always having an acid taste. A piece of -dough, from well-raised bread, set aside on ice or in a cool place, and -worked into the next batch to be made, gives the best mode of making -leaven; and by working a little soda into it before setting the sponge, -will make very fine bread, without the acidity common to leavened -bread, if managed with care. - -Wheat bread is now common in most countries. The best and whitest is -made from the flour of the first grinding. _Gluten_ is a very important -part of flour, and it is that which gives wheat the superiority over -all other grains, it being found only in small quantities in any other. -It is the gluten which helps to form the adhesive paste essential to -secure fermentation. It is common in the animal kingdom, but rare in -the vegetable, and therefore is sometimes called the _vegeto-animal -principle_. The more gluten the better and more nutritious the flour. -The loss of this principle, by sprouting, mildew, etc., destroys the -adhesive power so necessary to making good bread. The best qualities -of flour take up the largest quantity of moisture; the amount which -can be absorbed depends on the quantity of gluten. In dry weather, -flour requires more moisture than in wet, and long and faithful -kneading will add to the power of absorption, without making the bread -too thin. Common salt and alum are often used to give poor flour the -tenderness and whiteness of good brands. A little salt is good, but too -much is injurious, both to the bread and to the health,--alum still -more injurious. Liebig recommends lime-water in bread-making. A quarter -of a pound of slacked lime to a gallon of pure rain or distilled water, -kept in closely stopped bottles; two and a half pints of the lime-water -to nine pounds of flour, he says, will make a sweet, fine-grained, -elastic bread of exquisite flavor. The lime-water to be mixed with -the flour before the yeast is added. Of course, it will not be enough -moisture for that amount of flour, and as much more water is added as -is needed. Liebig claims that the lime will give the wheat a larger -amount of bone-making element, and therefore be more nutritious. - -Rice flour, or potatoes combined with flour, help to take up moisture, -and keep bread from drying. Rye flour makes a dark-colored bread, but -is sweet and palatable, retaining moisture longer than wheat. Indian -meal, mixed with rye, and a spoonful or two of molasses added with -the yeast, makes the New England brown bread; but to have that in -perfection it should be baked in a brick oven, and remain all night; -then, warm and fresh for breakfast, it is unrivalled. - -Graham bread is made from unbolted wheat, the bran not separated from -the flour. The coarse meal swells more in rising, and should not be -made so stiff as fine flour. It sours more quickly, requires a hotter -oven, and longer time to bake. Much kneading is essential to cement -together the starch, sugar, albumen, and gluten found in wheat. It is -not easy to knead bread sufficiently for a satisfactory result. Many -machines for this purpose have been invented, but we have yet to see -one that can be as fully depended upon as a strong arm and a skillful -hand. The _hand_ only can decide truly when every lump is dissolved, -and suitable combinations made. When the dough springs under the -touch, instead of clinging to the fingers, when the fist bears its -full impression in the dough, and none adheres to the hand, the cook -may cease from the labor. This labor may be lightened by pounding and -chopping at intervals, and with much benefit; but the hand is the chief -dependence. - -If the yeast is bitter, pour on water, and let it stand a few hours; -then drain it off, and use the thick part which has settled at the -bottom. The water will absorb the bitterness, unless it is from age, -and not because of too many hops. In this case, a piece of charcoal -heated through, but not so hot as to kill the yeast, thrown into the -yeast jar, will correct it; but we should prefer to throw away the -yeast, and make new. - -When all the rules for making good bread have been faithfully followed, -all will fail if not properly baked. We think nothing has yet been -found that is equal to the brick oven; but in whatever oven you bake, -one rule is common to all,--see that the heat is just right; from 350° -to 400° is the proper range for bread. If fresh flour or meal is thrown -on the bottom of the oven, and turns a clear brown at once, it is -right; if it becomes black the oven is too hot. - -We have been greatly indebted to Webster’s “Encyclopædia of Domestic -Economy,” and Professor Youmans’ “Handbook of Domestic Science,” for -our information on bread. - - - - -XXVII. - -HOW ABOUT THE LITTLE GIRLS? - - -“A SHORT time since you advocated ‘teaching little boys to be useful’ -by training them to do, indoors or out, whatever, for the time being, -lay within the compass of their strength and ability. But now we wish -to ask, How about _little girls_? The boys say it isn’t fair to call -upon them to perform ‘girls’ work,’ unless the girls are made to -reciprocate the favor, and are willing to take their turn in doing -‘boys’ work’ when necessary.” - -Bless your little hearts, dear boys! Who objects to that? Not the -little girls, certainly. Isn’t it just what many of the _big girls_ are -seeking to do, and the _big boys_--“children of a larger growth” than -you, my little man--are striving to prevent? Where is the girl, unless -she has by fashion and conventionalities been unnaturally biassed, -who would not gladly, once in a while, exchange sewing, sweeping, -and dusting for a run out into the free air and glad sunshine, to -take your place, and do your work,--feed the chickens, weed in the -garden, hoe the corn, milk the cows, or rake the hay,--though modern -improvements have of late cheated them of half such pleasures? Anything -that little boys can do, little girls would think “such fun,” if they -might occasionally have the privilege of doing it,--country girls, -we mean,--God help those whose home is in the city! There are so few -pleasures there that the young can enjoy in the open air. To walk on -hard, cold sidewalks, dressed like little ballet-dancers, or ride over -the rough pavements, with no free, untrammeled movement, or through the -dirty streets, with their vile, impure smells, can give no such joys -as our country damsels, with their larger inheritance and more abundant -blessings, are in daily possession of. There is nothing equal to the -pleasure our little folks may find, in any kind of outdoor employment, -that is suited to their age and strength. These simple labors prepare -them for larger and more important duties, and the knowledge will -bring abiding comfort and self-reliance as they advance in age and -intelligence. - -“Will not such work make girls coarse, romping, and hoydenish? Rough, -noisy boys are bad enough; would you have our girls become like them?” - -Is it the outdoor work that makes them so? Is it not rather the -overflow of animal spirits that can find no way of escape but by -boisterous, wild action? It is not very agreeable to the old and staid, -to be sure, and it certainly is less annoying outdoors than in; yet it -promotes health, and is only what we all did, or longed to do, in our -youth. Age will soon tame the wild spirits, or restrain a too exuberant -overflow, and nothing keeps them in check like pleasant labor. There -are, to be sure, sometimes unfortunate associations with really coarse, -rude natures, which are very objectionable. We would never allow girls -or boys to come under such influence if we could help it; but that -evil is to be found in every position,--as often in the house as in -the field,--and if not inherent in your child’s own character, the -influence will soon be discarded, the dross be separated, and the purer -nature rise dominant. You must go out of the world to insure safety -from such contact. - -“But country girls are not often ladylike and graceful; and work -outdoors will tend to make them still more awkward. I couldn’t endure -to see my little girl brought up under such influences.” - -We have never found in the city more graceful, ladylike, intelligent, -pure-minded girls than we have seen in the country; but we have -sometimes noticed that those who live nearest to the city, or -have spent much time there, too often acquire artificial habits, -affectation, coquetry, loud, bold speech, or a fondness for dress, too -stylish for a truly modest girl’s adorning, that is seldom seen in -real country life. We do not think that any kind or amount of labor -will make one less modest or ladylike. We believe that our girls -should know how to do, with their own hands, everything that they have -strength for, and thereby secure and establish vigor and capacity -for duties that, in after years, may fall to their lot. We do not -mean that outdoor labor should be their habitual employment. We wish -them to have the actual knowledge; but the heavier work, which more -appropriately belongs to boys and men, should be undertaken by girls -and women only on an emergency. Then love or will, or both united, can -make woman strong to do the hardest work, if she has the knowledge, -while the necessity lasts. It is because such calls may be made on -every one all through life, that we would have each one secure the -knowledge early; but in extreme cases, the overstrain on a woman’s -physical life, if long continued, will compel the payment of large -interest in later years, and therefore should be undertaken through -necessity only. God has not organized man and woman alike, physically; -nor, do we believe, mentally either. We hasten to add, lest we should -be arraigned for heresy, that we do not say they are not _equal_, but -only _different_; the question of equality we wait for their own works -to answer. Woman has sweeter, tenderer, dearer duties, demanding an -organization distinct from that which fits man for his rougher, harder, -more extended, more public, but not more noble work. We hear of women -who have cut down their timber, built their walls, ploughed their -fields, or done the blacksmithing for the neighborhood with their own -hands, from choice,--a kind of work which we could not do, and would -not if we could, unless driven to it by some pressing necessity; but -we should like to store up the knowledge how to do it against the time -of need. Still, we need not object if others take pleasure in it. Yet -will not their own bodies, when they leave youth behind and go down to -middle age, bear witness against the unnatural strain which they have -been subjected to? Those whose office it is “to replenish the earth” -cannot make these violent drafts upon their system with impunity. It is -not for a regular, daily occupation that we would desire to have girls -taught how to do their brothers’ work as well as their own, though -much that pertains to that will always be pleasant and attractive, and -light work in the open air will always furnish healthy exercise for -our girls; but we want to see every member of the family so educated -that there may never occur a vacancy about the home that some one, girl -or boy, man or woman, is not able and willing to step into and fill -satisfactorily. To this end, faithfully teach your little ones, girls -or boys, to put their hands to any work that is necessary. - -“Next you will tell us to let our girls saw and split wood, milk the -cows, harness and unharness the horse, etc.” - -Yes. Why not? They should know how to do all this, and do it well; and -try it often enough to feel at ease and without fear in the effort, and -that will be sufficient for the present. But suppose in a few years -your daughter marries, and goes from you to some distant settlement -where neighbors are scarce and “help” uncertain. Girls of wealth and -refinement have done such things. Let the monotony of frontier life -be occasionally enlivened by a real attack of chills and fever in -which all take a part. When husband and “help,” if your daughter is -so fortunate as to secure any, take their turn in _shaking_, will not -the wife look back to the time when brother Will and she had their -miniature saws and hatchets, and made much sport in preparing the -kindlings? Won’t she see that the knowledge how to do this, which was -simply amusement then, has been stored up for real service now? She -little thought when grandpa taught her to milk old Brindle without -fear of the gentle animal, how she would thank him for it in this -far-off home. Are you sure that your little girl will never be placed -in circumstances, for only a few hours perhaps, when she would be most -thankful to know how to do any one of these things? Can you not imagine -circumstances where it would be an incalculable blessing? We can, any -number of them, not at all beyond the bounds of possibility. We have -known cases where it was almost a matter of life or death, that a lady -should have skill and courage to harness a horse and hasten for help. -These cases may be rare; yet if they come but once in a lifetime, is -not the lesson worth the learning? If you were driving a team--a very -desirable accomplishment for any young lady--and the harness should -break or become unfastened, ought you not, for your own safety, to know -how to repair the mischief? Every girl should early learn how each part -of the harness must be adjusted, else the pleasure and independence of -being able to drive when older will be attended with much risk, and -often with fatal consequences. Youth--early childhood--is the time -to secure this knowledge, that you may be prepared to use it with -confidence and self-control when needed. Even if it is never needed in -later life, _knowing how_ will not injure any one. - - - - -XXVIII. - -STEALING SERVANTS. - - -IN _The Christian Union_ a while ago, “Laicus” gives the history of a -transaction between two neighbors, in which he thinks the indignation -manifested by one of the parties was uncalled for, and her objection to -the proceeding of the other “but a relic of the old-time slave system.” -The case given was in this wise. - -Mrs. Potiphar, it seems, “picks up a little girl in New York, and goes -through all the trouble, discomfort, and anxiety of teaching her, until -she becomes, at last, a very useful and efficient servant.” Those who -have undertaken the training of young girls, not their own, will agree -that Mrs. Potiphar’s task was not an enviable one, and that the girl -owed her a debt of gratitude, which faithful, willing service alone -could pay. As the child improved under this training, wages were given, -until after five years’ education she received ten dollars a month. -Mrs. Potiphar, appreciating the good qualities the girl had developed, -failed not to give her ample praise; said she was “worth her weight in -gold,” an expression very common, yet not usually taken literally; but -she did not increase her wages. It may have been that she gave all that -the work demanded of her was worth, or all that she could afford to -give; it matters not which; it is no evidence, however, that she wished -to defraud the girl of her just dues; it argues no injustice on Mrs. -Potiphar’s part. But good friends, kind neighbors, behind her back, -said it was a shame to pay Sophia so little; while to the lady’s face, -however, they gave smiles and congratulations “upon her good luck.” -Ah, what a pity that gossiping, meddling, and backbiting should be -found in this beautiful world of ours. How much trouble and mischief -these vices have caused! Much of the discomfort and disturbance in -our households springs from this evil spirit, making servants fickle -and unfaithful, and their mistresses’ life a burden. And it is all -so needless! There is little fear, even when not tampered with, that -girls will remain long on low wages, unless the privileges and kind -care bestowed upon them are of more value than larger pay, and they -have the good sense so to understand it. Every girl has a perfect right -to seek the highest remuneration, and so that she gives her present -employer reasonable notice, to enable her to secure other assistance, -or to offer her larger wages, however great the disappointment to the -lady may be, the girl has acted honorably and is worthy of no censure. -But in the case cited by “Laicus,” Mrs. Chessleburg’s course is so -repugnant, so foreign to all our ideas of honor, that we should hope -there was some mistake in print, did we not know such acts are of daily -occurrence. - -Mrs. Potiphar has an excellent waiting-maid, just what Mrs. Chessleburg -wants. Mrs. Chessleburg is much exercised in her mind because Mrs. -Potiphar gives the poor girl such low wages. - -“She is well worth fourteen dollars a month to me, if she is worth -a penny.” Four dollars extra would be quite an addition to Sophia’s -income. To be sure it would. So her nurse-girl goes confidentially -(_privately_ we presume that means) and tells Sophia that Mrs. -Chessleburg will give her fourteen dollars a month if she will leave -the lady, who, five years ago, “picked her up in New York,” and has -taught her, during these years, to be such a desirable servant. The -girl goes, of course. Mrs. Potiphar thinks it mean “to steal her girl -away in that style.” _So do we._ Is it strange that we think Mrs. -Chessleburg’s desire to right the girl’s supposed wrongs had its -origin less in real benevolence than in the selfish anxiety to secure -a valuable servant for herself? We certainly must, notwithstanding -“Laicus’s” perplexity, join with the ladies in thinking Mrs. -Chessleburg’s proceeding highly objectionable, and are confident -employees as well as employers will agree in this matter. - -We read the article in question to the superintendent of our farm, and -said, “How does this strike you? How shall we answer this question? If -the girl’s work was worth more than ten dollars, was it not right that -she should have it?” - -“Yes; but I shouldn’t think that was the right way for a lady to do? -Why didn’t she go to the girl’s mistress, instead of sending her -nurse-maid to the girl privately? I don’t think any lady would do such -a thing.” - -“Well! I think you are right about house servants. But on the farm, in -your position, for instance, as foreman, there is some difference, is -there not? Supposing some gentleman should offer you more than we do, -what would you think of that?” - -“That he was no gentleman. I don’t see the difference. If he wished to -make any such offer, he should go to my employer and state the case, -but not to me.” - -“But you are not bound to stay with us. If you can better yourself, you -have a perfect right to do so. You are a free man.” - -“Yes, I know that; but I think there should be some honor, if there is -no law, about such things; and I don’t think a gentleman acts honorably -who tempts a man with offers of higher wages to leave his employer’s -service. Let him go, like a man, to the proprietor of the work himself.” - -“Maggie,” said we afterward, “if a lady should send one of her girls to -you with an offer for more wages than I give, what would you think of -it?” - -“O, I’ve had that trick tried on me, ma’am! No _lady_ would do it, -and I’d not risk living with any one who would connive at such a mean -thing.” - -“Why, what would you have her do?” - -“Come right to yer, ma’am, or advertise. Sure the papers are open to -any one who chooses to advertise.” - -Now, this subject appears too clear for any question of right or wrong, -liberty or slavery. The same course--open and above-board--should be -plain to both employer and employé. Among business men this law of -honor is fully understood. The amount of wages in all employments is -well defined. Custom fixes the prices for specified labor. It is those -who offer beyond the accepted rates who cause most of the trouble -experienced in all classes of labor. - -A manufacturer engages a certain number of men to work in his mill. -He offers and they accept the regular rates of payment. A neighboring -manufacturer is short of hands, and privately goes to these men, -_bribing_ them, for it is nothing short of a bribe, with offers of -higher wages to leave their present work and come to him. If their -ideas of honor are no higher than his own, they will probably accept -the bribe, and their first employer’s mills must stand idle until -he can secure others to fill their places. Would you not call this -dishonorable? This is acceded to in the outdoor world, among merchants, -mechanics, manufacturers, and farmers. But how much more sacred, how -much stronger, should this code of honor be to us, in the family! - -If we learn that a girl has “given warning” to her employer of her -intention to leave, we have a perfect right to try and secure her; but -to avoid the least appearance of evil, to do truly “as we would be -done by,” we should think it but wise and just to go first to the lady -and signify our wishes, making such inquiries as may be needed. In the -case given by “Laicus,” however, the nurse-maid is sent, and offers of -higher wages given through her. The girl is _bought_. We cannot think -it acting honorably by the mistress or kindly by the maid. If tempted -once to act secretly, she probably can be again, and from a useful, -reliable servant may become one on whom there can be no dependence. - -If this mode of securing assistance is accepted as a correct and -honorable practice, no one is safe. In every department we shall be at -the mercy of the selfish and unscrupulous. - -The laborer is evidently worthy of his hire, and in this country no -class of people are likely to remain long in ignorance of the price -they can command, or to estimate their ability at too low a rate. - -We object to no one’s obtaining the full value for his work, but claim -that there should be no meddling, no underhand work to buy servants -or laborers from another, by the private offer of larger wages. -Advertising is open to all, and brings the needed help to you; but if -you do not choose that mode of supplying yourselves with laborers, then -let the employer be applied to, and if you can give his or her servants -better terms than they now receive, there are not many who will not -advise them to accept the offer. We do not think that ladies enact any -such law, as that “no servant shall be offered a better post than the -one now occupied, so long as he or she remains in it”; but we do claim -that the good old rule should be as fully recognized in dealing with a -neighbor’s servant as in everything else, namely, “Do unto others as ye -would that others should do unto you.” - - - - -XXIX. - -FALL CLEANING. - - -THE summer is over and gone; cold nights and mornings have so -frightened and subdued the flies, that it is easy to hunt them from -the house, and by a little extra watchfulness prevent their gaining -possession again. The sun, still quite warm and summer-like in the -middle of the day, tempts them out from their hiding-places, and they -will swarm in at open doors and windows, if unprotected by wire and -net frames, in great numbers. Take care that these safeguards are -doing duty whenever windows or doors are opened for ventilation or -comfort, else the skillful little manœuvrers will soon gain access. -Drive them out toward night into the cool evening air. A few really -cold nights will free you from these vexatious intruders, and enable -you to commence fall cleaning in peace and safety. The danger always -is, that this part of fall labor will be undertaken too early. The -first ten or twelve days of September are usually raw and cold. The -flies, crawling into warm nooks and corners, pretend to be asleep. The -housekeeper, forgetting the experience of former years, hastens to get -out scrub-cloths, brushes, and all the implements of house-cleaning. -Those whose homes are in the city hurry back with the first puff of -cold air, believing that flies and heat have both alike departed for -the season. But they soon learn that this is a great mistake. These -chilly, cold days are usually followed by ten days or a fortnight as -warm as midsummer, and generally quite unhealthy. Nothing but real -necessity should tempt any to leave the country before they have -fully enjoyed the most perfect month of the whole year,--_October_. -But whether in city or country, those who attempt to do their fall -cleaning in September will have short-lived satisfaction compared with -the comfort derived from the same work in October. Flies, spiders, and -wasps, if not harmless then, are at least so far disabled as to be -easily conquered, and until that is accomplished, house-cleaning on a -large scale is wasted labor. - -The first thing to be done, preparatory to house-cleaning, is to -have all the chimneys thoroughly swept, and the furnace, range, and -grate flues, not only perfectly cleaned from soot, but examined by a -competent workman; especially is this needful if the house has been -closed or only partially used during the summer. Before real winter -weather comes, everything of this kind should be in perfect order. - -Have the furnace-grate examined, as it may have been corroded by rust -while unused, or so far burned out that, if neglected, some cold -morning when a bright glowing fire is most needed it may break down -and let your fire out. It will not be pleasant to sit shivering while -the old grate is being mended or a new one fitted. The range-grate and -fire-bricks must also be looked after and repaired for winter use. A -little attention now will save much expense and discomfort later in the -season. - -If carpenters’ or masons’ work, whitewashing, painting, glazing, -or plumbing is needed, it should all be done before any cleaning -is attempted. If left till afterward, this kind of work is a great -terror to housekeepers. To secure seasonable attention to all these -matters, it is essential that the mechanics who are needed should be -engaged some weeks in advance; but remember that such workmen are, -unfortunately, not as good in _keeping_ promises as in _breaking_ -them; therefore watch closely, and hold them to their agreement. This -habit of promising more than can be performed is a very pernicious -one, and in the end most unprofitable. Mechanics are tempted to this -dishonorable practice by anxiety to secure a good job. Knowing the -great demand for labor, they imagine if they promise to do your work at -a given time, come and do a little, then go to some one else, leaving -your work half finished, then back to you again for a while,--the -second party annoyed by the same vexatious delay,--that your necessity -compels you to endure silently if not patiently. You may submit for -this once, but never burn your fingers twice at the same fire. Let -it once be understood that employers of all kinds look upon a broken -promise as destroying all confidence, and that they will under no -circumstances give a _promise-breaker_ a second opportunity to beguile -them, and this great trial to grace and patience would soon be overcome. - -While repairs are going on, bring down all the woolen garments, -blankets, furs, or pieces of carpeting that have been stored away for -the summer. Take them out on the grass-plat under your clothes-line, -before removing the wrappers, for the preparation in which they have -been put away is not very pleasant to the smell, particularly if it -is Poole’s powder, which we think the safest as well as the most -disagreeable. If it is a windy day, hang all on the clothes-line for a -good snapping before you attempt to brush them, and most of the powder -will blow off. After an hour or two in sun and wind, brush them well -with a nice whisk-broom, and, when done, the garments and blankets may -be put in their proper places and the pieces of carpeting sewed up in -bagging or canvas or put into a spare trunk. They will need no more -powder till spring, if carefully stored and occasionally aired through -the winter. - -The coal, of course, you had put into the cellar last spring, as it -is usually cheaper about May than in the fall. The ashes and soot -having been removed, the flues, furnace, and grates all in order, the -house should now be swept from the attic to the cellar. Ingrain and -three-ply carpets ought to be taken up every year, unless in rooms but -little used, and after being well shaken or taken to the carpet-shaking -mill, they should be laid out of the way till the room from which they -were taken is cleaned. Brussels, Wiltons, Axministers, and all the -heavier carpets should not be raised oftener than every three years. -Very little dust sifts through such fabrics, and careful sweeping and -the use of a good “carpet-sweeper” will preserve them from all harm. In -sweeping, preparatory to cleaning, it is well to draw the tacks in the -corners and turn such heavy carpets back, so that with a whisk-broom -any dirt that may have settled there can be easily removed. It is but -little work, and the corners can be readily tacked down again. - -When the sweeping is all done, a most thorough dusting is the next -operation, so that wood-work, walls, and gas-brackets may be free from -loose dirt before water is used. The paint is much easier cleaned after -this than if the dust were allowed to remain and be washed off. Some -recommend the latter to _save time_. We think it _wastes_ time. - -The walls should be dusted with a long-handled feather duster, then -with a clean dry cloth pinned smoothly over a clean broom; wipe them -down evenly, beginning at the top and passing in a straight line, “by -a thread” as a seamstress would say, to the bottom, changing the cloth -as it becomes soiled. Next remove all chimneys and shades from the -chandeliers and gas-burners; wash clean, dry and polish with a soft -linen towel, and then with chamois-skin, and put them into a closet -till the room is cleaned. Now with a cloth, wrung from weak, hot suds, -wipe off the brackets and chandeliers, and rub dry with chamois-skin. -Draw a coarse linen thread, double, through the opening in the tip of -all the gas-burners to remove any dust that may have settled in them -while unused. This done, if you have two or three hands at work, the -cleaning may be so divided as to be done quite expeditiously; let -one wash the windows while another cleans the paint. The windows, if -long unused, need to be well washed in warm suds, into which a little -spirits of ammonia have been poured,--two teaspoonfuls to half a bucket -of suds; then well rinsed in clear water, wiped dry, and polished -with chamois-skin. This same proportion of suds and ammonia will -also clean paint very easily, and without injury to the hands. It is -good for cleaning marble slabs and mantles. The plated door-handles, -bell-pulls, etc., come next in order for cleaning; and here, if a piece -of oil-cloth is cut to slip over each, so that the walls may not be -tarnished, the hot suds and ammonia will prove very effective. A piece -of old carpet or drugget should be laid down as you clean windows, -paint, or plated ware, if the carpet is down, and moved from one spot -to another as you go on. - -Now all is ready to put the last touch to the room. Wring a clean cloth -from some warm, clear water, in which a little alum or salt has been -dissolved, and wipe hard each breadth of the carpet, rubbing straight -down the nap. Wring out the cloth often, to rinse off all the dust, -and change the water if it looks very dingy. This brings up the nap -and gives a new and fresh look to carpets of all kinds; only be sure -that the cloth is not so wet as to drip. Leave the windows open when -the carpet is finished, and shut the doors till it is thoroughly dried -before bringing in what furniture was moved out to clean the room. - - - - -XXX. - -FASHIONABLE DRESS. - - -WE are often asked why we do not speak out plainly, in the way of -counsel and reproof, about the absurdities of fashionable dress, now so -apparent? What good would it do? Almost every paper has spoken plainly, -or hinted--the worst kind of speaking, however unmistakable--on this -subject, and what is the result? Week by week the fashion-plates are -increasingly monstrous, until at last we are uncertain whether it is a -_bona fide_ fashion plate we are looking at or “Punch” and “The Budget -of Fun.” Neither could take greater liberties or more atrociously -caricature “the human form divine.” And, what would be very amusing -if the weakness did not excite so much pity, those who urge us to -contribute our mite toward a reform, a more Christian mode of dress, -are themselves marvellous structures,--a pile, composed of frizzed, -braided, curled, and puffed hair, under which a small, delicate face -appears; a dress fringed, flounced, puffed, and trailing, with hoops -and panniers protruding like a dromedary’s hump; and all this miserable -deformity borne about on high heels and the tips of the toes, the -discomfort and pain of such unnatural locomotion accepted and endured -because it is _the fashion_. Yet these fair inquirers appeared wholly -unconscious that their own disfigurement was a stronger appeal for aid -than any words could have been. - -Why not begin this reform in your own dress? Brush your hair smoothly, -and give us the satisfaction of once more seeing what the head is, as -God made it; take off yards of silk, lace, and fringe, and show us your -natural, graceful figure. You who move in what is called fashionable -society can do more by such independence than all that can be written. -Try one season, and mark the change you would effect. “O, we couldn’t -think of such a thing! ‘As well be out of the world as out of fashion,’ -you know. It would make us so very conspicuous by our singularity. We -think it would not be _modest_ to take such a stand. No one person can -effect the change: it must be simultaneous.” - -Ah, had all reformers reasoned so, what would now be the condition -of the civilized world! But Fashion is a tyrant; and we fear volumes -written on the evils which she brings will do little good until women -have learned to defy her. A few in every age have done valiantly in -their attempts to dethrone her, but she changes so often, and so -abruptly and entirely, it is difficult to keep track of her. As far -back as we can search, the whirligig of fashion has been in perpetual -motion, unceasing in its changes. The advice and admonition of age and -experience have little influence towards checking this long-established -tyranny. The old look sadly upon the vagaries of the young; but if -they glance back to their own early days, would they not recall -equal absurdities in the fashions of that period, or on a moment’s -reflection, perhaps, even the dress and style to which they still -pertinaciously adhere may be liable to the same criticism? - -We vividly remember the look of dissatisfaction on our grandmother’s -face (a dear little woman, nearly eighty years old), whose keen black -eyes flashed ominously as we came before her for inspection, dressed -for our first party. We stood, at fourteen, a full head the taller, but -were abashed at the dignified air of authority with which she descanted -on the ridiculousness of our attire. A very narrow skirt, with a few -gathers in the back, three small pleats on each side,--it took but six -or seven yards then for a dress,--a full waist, with a narrow band -round the neck like a baby’s slip, and the belt almost under the -arms; a large lace “Vandyke,” or cape, over the shoulders; the hair -combed high on the top of the head and tightly tied, and the length -twisted into a knot or bow, and kept in place by a big tortoise-shell -comb, the top of it full three inches high and six or seven inches -round; and this placed back of the hair. Our first high-topped comb! -What a wonderful work of art it was in our eyes! And the dress--our -_first_ silk--of changeable hues, like the silks which are now coming -again into fashion,--how stylish it did look! We thought every one -must recognize its elegance. Yet here was this “little grandma,” -whose judgment, next to our mother’s, was infallible, looking with -disdain upon it, and turning our whole outfit into ridicule! It was -heartbreaking! And for our first party! Fourteen was very young to -go to parties in those days, but, being tall for our age, we were -invited by mistake we presume. At the present time _young ladies_ of -three and four send out and receive their cards, and with gloves and -fans, frizzled hair, and flounced dresses, mimic the affectation and -absurdities of their elders. We have no sweet, simple childhood any -longer. - -But how was our revered critic attired? The soft, white hair, still -quite abundant, was brushed straight over from the brow, not tied on -top, but rolled as tightly as it could be drawn over what was then -called a pillow,--now it would be, we presume, a _rat_,--and fastened -on the top of the head by two long silver pins with arrow-heads; a -spotless white mull cap with a very high crown and deep frill was put -on over this pillow and tied with a broad black satin ribbon in a bow -on top; a string of gold beads, a square of white lace folded over the -shoulders and crossed in pleats in front, under the dress of heavy -black satin; the waist of said dress made long down to the hips, with -a point before and behind, the skirt not trailed but immensely full; -very high-heeled slippers; and on her arm a large black satin bag, or -_reticule_, embroidered with white beads, in which was the ever-present -knitting-work, completed the costume. And this queerly dressed -little grandmother scoffed at our newer style as being the height of -absurdity. Her dress appeared appropriate to her, because we had never -seen her otherwise attired; but with all affectionate deference to -her superior wisdom, we thought it very ugly, and would have shrunk -in disgust from wearing it ourselves; and doubtless our new dress in -which we then rejoiced would strike our grandchildren now as equally -undesirable. - -So fashion changes, and words of expostulation are wasted. But in this -age of improvement, when we turn our backs on the things of old while -something new is daily being developed or invented, the wonder is, that -in the realms of Fashion we see so little purely original. Like a poor -horse in a treadmill, she goes the same circuit, and about every fifty -years she finds the end, and is compelled to return and reproduce, -with some strange additions, but few improvements, the styles our -grandmothers and great-grandmothers wore. The high heels, hoops, -trains, and panniers of to-day are but the renewal of the fashions of a -semi-barbarous age, which, once buried, should never have been revived. - -Addison, in many of his writings (see particularly papers 98 and 127 -in the “Spectator”), severely criticises the prevailing fashions of -his day. Many of these same deformities our better instructed women -have for a year or two past foolishly reproduced. We may not quote -his words, because the homely language of that period would shock -our greater refinement, (although if it could be arranged for opera -or theatre, his wholesome counsels might be listened to _in public_ -without a blush!). - -There is much to be said, aside from the absurdity of the style, and -its destruction of all grace and beauty, of the great extravagance -which must attend the present fashions, breaking up many homes and -alienating true love; and the permanent injury done to health, -subjecting its devotees to long years, perhaps, of discomfort and -lingering sufferings or an early grave. - - - - -XXXI. - -LESSONS BY THE WAYSIDE. - - -LOVE lightens labor, and crowns Care with rosy garlands which beautify -her rugged and repellant features. But when those whose presence makes -labor easy are absent, Care is more likely to become a hard taskmaster. -Our house being thus left unto us desolate, for a few days, we rebel, -and have run away. - -Seated all alone in one of those cozy little rooms in the -“palace-cars,” on the banks of the Hudson, we will try for once how -it feels to be free from care, and give ourselves up to the full -enjoyment of the position. How beautiful is the scenery through which -we are passing! Each one thinks his own native land, his own mountains -and rivers, the finest in the world. This feeling often grows into a -ludicrous weakness; but we are confident that our noble Hudson must be -acknowledged by all as ranking among the first. - - “Where will you find in foreign land - So sweet a spot, so bold a strand?” - -In spring-time, when every bush and tree is tipped with delicate green, -from the banks of the river to the highest point that overlooks it, -we call it more lovely than at any other season of the year. But in -summer, when the grass is just ready for the scythe, and blossoms of -fruit hang from every bough, we say this surpasses the spring. In -the early fall, the orchards scattered all along the river-side, -laden with the ripening fruit, in each variety of green, red, gold, -or russet, and the woods on either side brilliant with every shade of -color, add another charm to the wondrous beauty of the scenery. And -now, in this later autumn, as we see the - - “Leaves around us falling, - Dry and withered, to the ground,”-- - -the lights and shadows on the mountains, the golden hues exchanged -for deeper russet, the dark red of the Ampelopsis mingling with -the rich color of the evergreens that cover the banks,--all caught -by the flashing river, and thrown back in broken and fantastic -reflection,--call for increasing admiration; and mid-winter, when the -ground is white with snow, and the trees are strung with diamonds, will -only furnish stronger cords to hold us steadfast to our allegiance. -There is not “half a kiss to choose” between the seasons on the banks -of our glorious Hudson. We love it always and in all its varied changes. - -And this _is_ rest for the weary! How beautifully quiet the pretty -villages, nested in among the mountains or scattered along the banks, -appear! Is it possible that sickness or sorrow, heartaches or envyings, -fierce passions or corroding cares, can find a harbor near this -tranquil river? It must be so, no doubt; but as we fly quickly past, -and cannot see it, what is it all to us? Why trouble ourselves with the -thought of sorrows which we can neither alleviate nor prevent? - -Ah! we may leave what we call our cares far behind; but we cannot shut -our eyes to the fact that sin, and therefore sorrow, is all about us, -as truly in the restful solitude of the little niche we for a few hours -occupy, as in the weary round of busy life. Out of sight, but almost -within reach of our hand, there is a sick child. We hear its feeble -cry, and think, from the sound, it must be quite young, and nearly -worn out with suffering. The mother, no doubt, tenderly loves her -child, yet long days of watching and sleepless nights have taxed her -strength to the utmost, and exhausted her patience. Sharp and irritable -words are spoken, and as we hear the little one, through the slight -partition that separates us, turn restlessly from side to side, unable -to find an easy spot, yet constantly longing for change, we know that -it is not gently placed on a cooler pillow, or taken to the mother’s -arms,--gathered to her bosom, and soothed with loving words. But -instead we hear, “O dear! what a torment! I am tired to death! Can’t -you lie still one minute?” How these tones make our heart quiver! No -doubt she is very weary, and perhaps full of pain herself; but with -each peevish, complaining word uttered over that frail little blossom, -she is planting - - “Thorns, _not_ roses, for her reaping, by and by.” - -If she knew that in a few days, perhaps, her babe would be forever -hid from her eyes, would not the remaining hours of its short life be -soothed, regardless of her own pain, by the tenderest love, and each -word soft and sweet as the notes of the cushat-dove! And the father, in -full health and vigor, why does he not relieve the weary, overtasked -mother? Why does he not give her an hour’s rest, while the little one -finds in his strong arms a grateful change? for there is no cradle -so soft and soothing to a babe, sick or well, as a loving father’s -arms. Instead of bearing this yoke with his wife, we hear cross, -ungentlemanly, unsympathetic words of complaint addressed to her, and -harsh and peevish commands to the baby. We long to step across the -narrow passage that divides us, and, taking the little one into our -own arms, kindly tell the parents what seeds they are sowing; to say -to them, “If your child dies, each word will rise up in remembrance -against you, filling your hearts with anguish. If it lives, you are -sowing poisonous weeds, which will cause you life-long sorrow. The -child will imitate your example, practise the lessons it is this day -so early learning, and teach you how ‘the sins of the parents may be -visited upon the children.’ Your own sins and failings will rise up and -condemn you through your children.” Good-breeding and etiquette will -not permit us to go to them with such warning; yet that this lesson -may profit some one, we send it to the friends for whom we write,--the -young _home-makers_ as well as the young housekeepers. In thus shaping -your children’s future, we cannot but think that the father will be -as richly blessed for instilling correct principles, or as surely -condemned for wrong training and example, as the mother. We know this -is treason and heresy, if judged by the prevailing idea that the -mother, far more than the father, is responsible for the principles and -character with which the child takes its place among men and women. - -We think this bad doctrine. The parents have an equal share in their -offspring, and should not hold a divided responsibility. - -The nursing and care in the main is doubtless the mother’s office; but -in extreme cases it should be borne together. Being naturally more -with the child in early infancy, of course the mother has a closer -intimacy. But in a well-organized, loving family, you will note that -while the love is given to both parents alike, when questions of weight -arise, even in early years, the child turns to the father for the final -word which shall be infallible. The mother’s gentler, tenderer tone -settles every-day questions, but there is strength and authority in -the father’s voice from which they are not often tempted to appeal, -and a good wife and mother recognizes this state. It is a sad house -when the hearts of mother and children cannot, with love and pride, -accept this as the natural and legitimate rule of home government and -education. Even if the mother does not, in her own judgment, accept the -father’s decision with the simple faith with which the child receives -it, it is no evidence of tame submission if she pleasantly reserves her -reasons till they are alone. All argument should be avoided between the -parents before the children on matters connected with the children’s -interest. If appealed to, let the reply be simply, “Father knows -best,” or, “Do as father says.” By this you strengthen your husband’s -hands, and nowise compromise your own conscience or influence. Then -when opportunity offers compare your views and give your reasons for -dissent, in all truth and gentleness. - - - - -XXXII. - -PAULINE PRY. - - -WE come this week to spy out the land,--to roam “up stairs, down -stairs, and in the lady’s chamber”; to creep into all by and forbidden -places; to look into the bedrooms, ransack the wardrobes, peep into the -drawers, it may be; overhaul trunks and boxes, perhaps; in short, to -take all manner of liberty and find fault to our heart’s content. - -Now we slip, unseen, into the guest-chamber. It is very pleasant and -inviting; but we don’t think the bed is made up very neatly. There -are “humps” in the mattress. It has not been turned over after using, -and well beaten and brought to a good square surface. The sheets and -blankets are not put on smoothly; the fine, Marseilles spread is put -on unevenly, giving a very untidy appearance to the bed, and bringing -so large a proportion of the bedclothes on one side, so as to render -it difficult to turn and press them down properly between the mattress -and side-rail, and of course you cannot, under such circumstances, -give a square, regular shape to the bed. A poorly made bed spoils the -appearance of the room, however elegant the rest of the furnishing may -be. - -Pretty sheet and pillow _tidies_ are of great assistance in giving a -fresh, cheerful air to a bedroom. If sheets and pillow slips are neatly -tucked and nicely ironed, the bed will look very inviting at first, -if well made; but after it has been once used, the wrinkled, tumbled -sheets and pillows are not a pleasant sight, and one feels well repaid -for the little trouble of providing tidies, however simple; ruffled -and embroidered, for the spare chamber if you please, but a part of a -fine old linen sheet, with broad hems and narrow tucks, starched and -well ironed, gives a very neat finish to the family bedrooms, and with -careful folding when taken off at night will not need to be done up for -some weeks. - -This elegant bureau is all right, as far as it is furnished; but the -guest-chamber should be provided with all the little comforts and -conveniences which a lady thinks necessary in her own room. A handsome -mat or tidy over the marble top, and little mats on each side for -cologne-bottle and watch-stand, or match-box and jewel-case, and a -pretty cushion, will add much to the appearance of this bureau; or -if nothing more, a clean damask towel spread over it is, if not a -necessity, at least a great safeguard against stains on the marble, -and a protection from the disagreeable chill that creeps over one when -resting the hand or arm on the cold marble. - -A good comb and brush, free from the slightest suspicion of dirt, a -boot-buttoner, and a paper of pins, ought to be on the bureau or in -the drawer. A friend often remains over night unexpectedly, and, of -course not coming provided for the detention, will find these little -attentions and conveniences a great comfort, and duly appreciate your -kind and thoughtful care. - -A little basket of willow or perforated card, embroidered with -some neat and fanciful design, or a bead or muslin bag, is a great -convenience much needed to be hung by the side of the bureau or under -the gas, to hold the hair from comb or brush, burnt matches, bits of -thread or paper. Some such receptacle for loose bits or litter, no -matter how simple, should be near every bureau, which the chambermaid -must empty every morning. A _cuspidor_, or wide-mouthed vase, upon the -floor, is more elegant than a scrap-basket, but much more expensive. - -A curtain of white barred muslin or linen is needed back of the -washstand, that the water, in washing, may not soil the paper or paint. -A nail-brush is very convenient, we think a real necessity, for every -bedroom. Get open, upright brush holders, rather than the long flat -ones with a cover, for, by standing the tooth and nail brushes in the -upright dish they drain and soon dry; but if laid down and covered they -are never dry, and in warm weather soon become quite offensively musty. - -A good sponge on the washstand and a clean doily hung up with the -towels should be considered as indispensable in any well-furnished -spare room as for those in daily use. - -Of course the bureau drawers and wardrobe in this room will be left as -nearly unoccupied as possible; so we will not stop to open them, but -pass into other rooms. - -What can be the matter in this young lady’s chamber? As we draw near -the bureau, we perceive a most unpleasant smell. We must take the -liberty of opening this drawer. Whew! the first breath reveals the -mystery. - -The brush has been wet to brush the hair, and then without drying shut -from the air in the drawer. There is no smell so sickening! It pervades -the whole bureau. No perfume can overcome it; and by using the brush, -damp and uncleansed day after day, the odor is carried wherever this -careless person goes. We have sat by people in church who have used -such a brush, and could hardly remain during the service. The cause is -unmistakable and cannot be concealed. If no other means can destroy -this bad habit, we would recommend that any one so thoughtless should -read an article we saw not long since in “Harper’s Bazar” on the -vegetable growth, in brush, comb, hair, and scalp, produced by wetting -the brush or hair, and leaving them undried or uncleansed. We think -once reading that description would be sufficient cure. - -The hair-brush should be combed free from hair or dandruff every time -it is used, and laid by an open window till well aired and dried, if -ladies will persist in wetting the hair or brush. A brisk movement of a -dry brush through the hair will soon create a fine lustre on the hair, -whereas wetting diminishes the gloss so beautiful in well-kept hair; -but we forget that that is an old-fashioned idea. The progress of art -and elegance teaches that a wilderness of fuzzy, frizzled hair is now -the crowning beauty. Tastes differ, but no change in style or fashion -will object, we hope, to a clean, sweet brush; and to secure that it -must once a week, at least, be well washed in warm soapsuds, in which -a little soda has been dissolved. Soda is better than ammonia, as it -cleanses without stimulating the _vegetable growth_ spoken of in the -“Bazar,” to which we just referred. Comb the brush while washing, that -the suds may penetrate to the roots of the bristles, and cleanse every -part; then rinse in warm water, rub dry as you can, and put in the -window, or by the fire if the weather is damp, to dry. This care should -not be neglected by any one who makes any pretension to neatness. - -The bureau drawers in this room are not in good order. You will lose -much time, and we think a good deal of self-respect, when next you need -a handkerchief or stockings, for everything here seems to have been -stirred up by a whirl-wind or a sleep-walker. It will require some -skill and more patience than you can spare to separate this wretched -tangle. - -The pipes in the wash-basin and bath-room are slimy and foul, -indicative of neglect. They should be well washed every morning, and -once a week a pail of boiling suds, with a spoonful or two of soda or -potash, must be poured in, to eat away all impurities, and sweeten the -pipes. In passing, let us say this care is more especially necessary in -the kitchen sinks. They require a stronger suds, and more soda or lye, -and more attention, to eat out all the grease that will accumulate in -washing dishes. - -The discoloration around the bell-pull, door-knobs, etc., shows that -a careless girl has not protected the wall or paint while cleaning -them, and the mistress has not kept her eyes open. A bit of oil-cloth, -with a hole in the center, to slip over the knobs or bell-pulls while -rubbing, would have saved this defacement of paint and paper. And the -finger-marks on the doors also tell a sad story of neglect. They need -to be washed off once a week--twice, if little fingers are about--with -a soft flannel, wrung out of hot suds. - -In the sitting-room, the mantel over the grate has not been washed -every morning when the fire is lighted in the grate. It should be. See! -the gas and smoke from coal or kindlings have turned the white marble -quite yellow. Wash it in hot suds, strong with ammonia, to remove the -spots, and then use a clean brush and hot suds every morning, and you -will save much time, and be well rewarded with an unspotted mantel. - -We can’t pry about any longer, but there is no knowing when we may be -tempted again to meddle with our friends’ housekeeping. - - - - -XXXIII. - -BUY YOUR CAGE BEFORE YOU CATCH YOUR BIRD. - - -A YOUNG lady writes that this old adage is often repeated to her “in -connection with grave warnings against early engagements and early -marriages,” and asks for our opinion and advice. - -This old proverb sounds very wise, and if taken literally may, for -aught we know, be correct doctrine; but when used as a warning, in the -connection which our friend suggests, we don’t more than half believe -in it. We are no advocate for very long engagements or unreasonably -early marriages; but we do believe that the happiest marriages are -of those between whom the love was early plighted, and that close -observation will prove that such are the most likely to stand the -test of time, and pass through the many rough and hazardous paths of -married life with the most cheerful fortitude. Those who have delayed -marriage till their habits have become too firmly established to yield -kindly to another’s wishes or peculiarities have not, we think, so sure -a prospect of a pleasant and harmonious life. We would sooner trust -an early union to carry the wedded pair down to a peaceful old age, -not only without losing the love that first united them, but with the -firm hope that it would grow brighter and brighter until that perfect -day when both, having passed over the river, shall stand with clearer -vision and purified affection before the throne of God. - -When school-days are over and the young man enters upon his chosen -occupation, and the maiden leaves her school-room to return to her -mother’s care, then we believe that a betrothal formed with pure love -for the basis is a great safeguard. It protects the lover from many -temptations by which young men away from home are beset, especially in -the city. They have little society save such transient companions as -may cross their path, and who will, perhaps, seek to entice them to -find pleasure in low and unrefined, if not in really impure and sinful -courses. In the evening, after the day’s work is ended, time hangs -heavy on their hands, they crave something, they know not what, and are -easily entrapped. - -Now, while a true love will teach a man to turn from such pleasures -in disgust, it will also save the maiden any desire to indulge in the -flirtations and coquetries with which gay and fashionable society -tempts young and unguarded girls to degrade themselves. An _engagement_ -does not always prevent this, we are sorry to say, but _pure love_ will -prove an unfailing protection. - -Neither do we believe an engagement should be protracted after the -lover has entered upon his business or profession, until he has -accumulated sufficient wealth to keep his bird in a golden cage. - -Begin real life together. That is the true way, all the sweeter and -happier if you begin small. The less style and display there is, the -more time each will have to study the home character of the one they -have accepted as a companion for life, and the better opportunity to -learn easily how to bear and forbear, to tone down such peculiarities -as are not conducive to mutual confidence and harmony. In all -characters there will be such peculiarities,--it is quite right there -should be,--but by carrying the same gentleness and courtesy into -domestic life which was so easily and naturally given in the days of -courtship, yielding a little, giving up one to the other, the early -wedded become assimilated, and find in their union an ever-increasing -joy, which a later marriage, when the habits become fixed and -unyielding, seldom realizes. - -“But to begin life in a small way, with limited means, subjects one -to much drudgery and many deprivations; besides, we lose caste. Those -who knew us in our father’s house, surrounded with comfort and luxury, -would scarcely deign to notice us if found in circumstances so at -variance with our parents’ mode of life.” - -Such friends are scarcely worth the securing. You have outgrown -babyhood and childhood, and, having entered upon man’s and woman’s -estate, surely do not expect to be always cradled in your parents’ -arms; but if you are of any worth you should cheerfully accept life -as you find it. “Its rough ascents or flowing slopes,” if trod -together and in love, will insure genuine happiness, and we often -think one stores up quite as much real pleasure while passing through -the rough places as when walking among the flowers. We know that the -retrospection is often a source of unfailing enjoyment. - -Many, we are aware, find great delight in selecting the house that -is to be their home, and furnishing it as elaborately and tastefully -as their means will permit, perhaps even beyond a safe limit, and -then _surprising_ the bride by ushering her into this unexpected -establishment. The surprise is doubtless effected, but although the -annoyance may be concealed, in nine cases out of ten we venture to say -it is keenly felt. When possible, both should act together in selecting -the house, or it may be “rooms,” where is to be their home, and the -taste and judgment of both be consulted in selecting the furniture -which they expect to have before their eyes daily. In examining and -counseling together frequently, they modify each other’s tastes, and in -the end are far better satisfied than if either had done the work alone. - -The money for furnishing a house is often provided as a part of the -bride’s outfit, and of course, if she chooses so to consider the -matter, it is her right to select the furniture, without consulting -another’s taste or wishes. But the older we grow the more we are -satisfied that _my rights_ should be erased from the matrimonial -dictionary, and _our rights_ substituted. - - - - -XXXIV. - -CARE IN SELECTING A HOUSE. - - -CHOOSING a house or tenement is one of the cares that often devolves -upon the wife, and demands great skill, good judgment, and sound -common-sense, because there are so many things to be taken into -consideration. We have been favored with a book published in London -entitled “The Best of Everything.” We have not yet so thoroughly -examined its contents as to be able to judge if it warrants that title, -but have been much pleased with some “Hints on choosing, buying, or -building a House,” and think our readers will be better pleased with -some extracts from that chapter than with anything we could furnish:-- - -“Select a cheerful, healthy locality, and be sure the rent, including -taxes, etc., does not exceed one sixth of your income. Do not choose -a neighborhood merely because it is fashionable, and carefully avoid -occupying a dwelling in a neighborhood of doubtful reputation. - -“Be sure that the house is dry, with convenient sewerage and plenty -of water. A southern or western aspect is to be preferred. Should the -house be infested with vermin, avoid it. See that windows and doors are -well secured, that there are proper means of ventilation, and that the -chimneys do not smoke. - -“Let all needful repairs be made by the landlord before the completion -of your agreement, otherwise you will probably be required to execute -them at your own expense. Do not deal with a landlord commonly reputed -to be disobliging, greedy, or litigious. In every case have a lease -properly drawn out and stamped. - -“Avoid the neighborhood of a sluggish stream, a mill-dam, or -fresh-water lake. The penalties are rheumatism, ague, impaired -eyesight, loss of appetite, asthma, and many other ailments. Choose -a house away from the vicinity of tan-yards and tallow, soap, and -chemical works, old and crowded burying-grounds, or slaughter-houses. -A low situation is perilous, especially during the prevalence of -epidemics. - -“Never lease a house in a narrow street if you can help it, unless the -back premises are open and extensive. Houses built with sea-sand will -in the winter months discharge moisture and be unhealthy. A house with -two entrances is more healthy than with only one. Before closing your -bargain, try to learn something of the house from a former occupant. - -“If you wish to purchase instead of leasing, do not trust to -appearances or rely on your own judgment; but when you have found a -house likely to suit your family and your purse, employ a surveyor to -inspect every portion of it. He will examine the foundations, the state -of the sewerage, and the character of the materials which form the -walls, the joints, flooring, and other wood-work. He will be able to -detect if soft bricks have been used, by finding traces of dampness at -the bottom of the walls. Let a lawyer examine all papers necessary to -secure a full possession. - -“Beware of rashly purchasing fixtures, such as window-blinds or -curtains, hall carpets, or kitchen furniture; new articles may be found -in the end more economical. - -“Make an effort to pay the whole of the purchase-money. A bond on your -house may endanger your credit and affect your comfort. - -“If instead of buying a house, you wish to build, select your locality; -but before completing the arrangements, ascertain the precise nature of -the soil. In a gravelly soil you will readily secure good foundations; -but if you find clay, or moist earth, be cautious. You may, indeed, -procure an artificial foundation by laying a bed of concrete; but this -will be attended with considerable expense. Consult an architect; he -will make a plan for your approval, and prepare working plans, and a -specification. If the house is to be built of brick, be careful to -examine the quality of the bricks, and also of the mortar. Personally -inspect the plumber’s work, which, if inferior, will expose you to -endless expense afterwards. - -“Do not allow zinc to be used either as gutters or water-pipes; it -wastes under exposure. - -“When a new house passes out of the hands of the carpenters, the -painters and paper-hangers take their place. In selecting your -paper-hangings, keep in view these considerations. If the ceiling is -low, oak paper, or any dark paper, will make it apparently lower still; -or if a room be defectively lighted, a dark shade aggravates the evil. -Papers of large designs are unsuited for a small room, making it look -smaller; and, generally, papers with a variety of colors and showy -patterns are inconsistent with elegance. Striped papers are better -adapted for rooms with low ceilings. When you have pictures to hang on -the walls, floral devices in the paper are particularly unsuitable. -Paper of a uniform color, such as light or dark green, is admirably -adapted for pictures. The paint of doors and windows should harmonize -with the _paper-hangings_.” - - - - -XXXV. - -VISITING FOR ONE’S OWN CONVENIENCE. - - -THERE are very few housekeepers in cities or large towns who will not, -at the first glance, understand precisely what this means; and, however -many may have been tempted to indulge in this style of visiting, and -perhaps often yielded to the temptation, there will be none found, -we venture to say, who will not heartily protest against it, when -practised upon themselves. - -We have before us a letter from a lady on this subject, and think we -cannot do better than to transcribe part of it for the benefit of our -young friends, as it presents the subject in a clear and very forcible -manner:-- - -“Do not, by any means, imagine that I would say a word against friendly -visits, for mutual enjoyment and the cultivation of true friendship. I -gladly welcome to my house all who come to _see me_, and delight to do -them honor in every way hospitality can suggest. My friends are sure of -a cordial welcome at all times, and I never make a visit I do not wish -returned. So much by way of parenthesis. - -“Now for a statement of grievances. It is my misfortune (or fortune) to -have been brought up in a rural town, about thirty miles from the city -where I have resided since my marriage, five years ago. I am a young -housekeeper, not yet of sufficient experience to take matters as easily -as older and more experienced matrons can, and therefore am more easily -disturbed by untoward events. - -“The people living in my native town and thereabouts, who are in the -least acquainted with me or my husband, find it vastly convenient, -when they come to the city, once or twice a year, or oftener, to -shop, do errands of various kinds, or attend conventions,--of which -we have legions,--to come directly to my house, with all the freedom -of brothers and sisters, and stay till their mission to the city, -whatever it may be, is accomplished, with no thought or inquiry of how -it may conflict with my plans and convenience, or whether my health -is sufficient to enable me to bear the addition to my work. And still -worse, they never give any notice of their coming; but arrive, perhaps, -in the noon train, just as I am dishing up dinner for my small family, -with their strong country appetites, whetted by their morning ride, and -expect a good dinner and a hearty welcome. If it were only one or two -who take such liberties, I would not mind it; but as one after another -makes my house their hotel, it becomes a weariness to the flesh. Nor is -this all. The hardest and most annoying of all is to have a woman come -bringing a young child, and remain till she has made her purchases for -a large family. This of course takes two or more days. The child is -left in my care, while the mother is only in the house at meal-times. -The child is home-sick, lonely, and fretful, and completely wears me -out, mentally and bodily; and I have no means of redress. When the -mother leaves, she says, ‘Now come and make me a visit,’ well knowing -that I never will. - -“I might speak of the annoyance of rising two hours earlier than usual -to get breakfast in season for an early morning train; but I forbear, -hoping you will help those who suffer from this cruel and heartless -practice.” - -This victim of a selfish and heartless custom has so well portrayed -the annoyances that spring naturally from it, that few words of ours -are needed. But, in justice to the writer, we must assure our readers -that this is no fancy sketch; the half of what the landladies of these -gratuitous hotels are called upon--no, compelled--to endure has not -been told. Happy, if when sick, without help, or unable to afford to -keep any, they do not find it necessary to furnish two or three extra -meals, at different parts of the day, after the family have been fed, -the table and dishes all cleansed, and the weary provider has just sat -down to that large basket of long-delayed mending. Long delayed! And -why? Because the time and strength which might have been given to that -work have been frittered away for those who have no legitimate claim -upon either, and who, perhaps, taking notes of everything which their -presence compels the lady of the house to neglect, go away and requite -her hospitality by criticising her housekeeping and remarking upon her -inefficiency! Or it may be, these long-suffering ladies are rung up at -midnight to receive unscrupulous and untimely guests; or, instead of -one child to look after, they are expected to act as nurse to three or -four. We have tried and known it all, and confess _we don’t like it_. - -Aside from the fatigue and inconvenience, the pecuniary tax is often -much heavier than the poor victim can afford to pay. We think the -meanest kind of pilfering is that practised by self-constituted guests. -We would ride, in the darkest night, over the roughest corduroy -roads ever seen at the West in her earliest days, until we found a -_log-tavern_, on the edge of a “clearing,” with no private room, no -eatable food, and a bed already fully inhabited, before we would thus -trespass on any one upon whom we had not strong claims of hearty love -or relationship, and especially without warning. And one who has ever -tried this alternative, will acknowledge that we could not well express -our abhorrence of the practice of “visiting for one’s own convenience” -more forcibly. - -Look at it on the score of the host’s convenience. Even with an -abundant income, an ample supply of well-trained servants, every -housekeeper knows that one is liable to have on the table what may be -sufficient for “the family,”--the last of the bread, and only enough -meat. The new bread may be almost ready for the oven, but not for the -table. The butcher may have been delayed, or forgotten your order, and -you have no more supplies on hand. Who does not know the anxiety and -annoyance of “improvising” a dinner for unexpected guests, when the -larder is not well filled? (By the way, dear young housekeeper, keep -watch that you are not often caught with short “rations.”) Then, you -often have engagements that demand your attention immediately after you -have finished your dinner, and failing to meet such engagements may -cause you much trouble, and subject you to very great annoyance. And -for whom must you allow all these arrangements, connected with your own -or your family’s interests, to be deranged? For almost a stranger,--a -mere passing acquaintance, in nowise congenial, who finds your house -more pleasant and convenient, and certainly more _economical_, than a -public hotel. There are mischievous, roguish boys in most families, -who have a very emphatic nomenclature of their own by which they would -designate such liberties; but as we very gravely rebuke all “slang” -phrases in our own family, we dare not venture to use their terms, -however appropriate, and can simply say, that it is the coolest and -most unpardonable kind of unwarrantable familiarity. - -There is another trouble connected with _convenient and economical -visiting_, which our friend has not noticed. We trust she has never -experienced it. We have, many times; and in former years, with young -children to care for, it was the hardest to bear of all the vexations -caused by these unwelcome guests. We refer to the disturbance and -dissatisfaction which such unexpected increase of labor causes among -our servants. If these visits are not like those of the angels, “few -and far between,” (and such _hotels_, once found, are not often -left quiet,) your “help” will be very likely to appear before you, -carpet-bag in hand, saying, “Please, mem, I must leave you; I did -not hire out to a _boarding-house_.” Ah, what blessed independence! -They can give notice to leave, but you cannot. You cannot quit your -post, but must stay by, and silently endure. So custom ordains. But -if custom enacts unjust laws, lays upon weary shoulders heavy burdens -most grievous to be borne, is not a revolt justifiable? We think it is, -and, in mercy to patient workers, the sooner it begins and the more -unflinchingly it is sustained the better. - -When those who have no claim upon your time or your affections take -such liberties, besieging you in your home, we think it not at all -reprehensible or discourteous to say, frankly, with unmistakable -plainness, that it is inconvenient or quite impossible for you to -accommodate or entertain them. Be as kind and gentle as you can, but -be firm. They have no claim upon you; let it be well understood that -you recognize none, and mean to act accordingly. If you accept the -intrusion, without protest, you will but rivet your bonds; and while -you find them growing stronger and more galling every year, you will -also find that your power to resist and break the chains becomes -weaker. Your submission to such imposition and oppression will be well -noised abroad, and you will find yourself at the mercy of many a chance -customer. - -To such as come to you in love and for love’s sake, let your doors -swing wide open. Intercourse between friends and relatives is another -and very different thing. It is giving and receiving, and the pleasure -makes the labor light. But to all who use your house for their own -selfish convenience, lock the door and drop the key in your pocket. - - - - -XXXVI. - -WILL THEY BOARD, OR KEEP HOUSE? - - -WE think it is considered allowable to criticise and gossip about -household matters _generally_, so that we don’t intrench on anybody -in _particular_. But to avoid meddling was a doctrine so thoroughly -inculcated in our youth, that in our talk with young housekeepers we -have found ourselves shrinking from touching upon many little mistakes -that need rectifying, or topics that will bear discussion, forgetting -that we are really not prying into private family matters. Yet, thanks -to many letters of inquiry from unknown friends, which give us license -and courage to take up prevailing modes or ideas and suggest what we -think a better way, we shall go on, and perhaps be considered a meddler -after all! - -When young people marry, the first question asked is, “Will they -board, or keep house?” And the reasons for or against keeping house -show a very great variety of opinions. We hear this question so often, -and see, with pain, how poorly prepared, through the reprehensible -indulgence of their mothers, many of the young ladies of the present -day are for the performance or superintendence of home cares and -duties, that, having waited for some explicit inquiries on the subject, -we now propose to embody, in an imaginary letter, some of the anxieties -and distress which this same indulgence stores up for the tenderly -reared daughters. We will suppose that one of these young ladies writes -us as follows:-- - -“I know that you generally advise young people to go to housekeeping, -instead of boarding. That may be the best way for most, and of late I -am inclined to think it is; but I am peculiarly situated. I wonder if -you can understand how very hard it must be, how almost impossible, -for a young lady who has lived twenty years without any cares, who has -always seen an abundance of everything,--never knowing or thinking -that economy was or could be necessary,--to undertake the care of a -house, under circumstances which will make it desirable that the work, -if not done by her own hands, should be wholly under her constant -supervision. What sort of a housekeeper would you expect her to make? -I have just learned that my parents are not able, now, to start me in -life as elegantly as I have always been brought up to expect. In a few -weeks I shall be united to one, not rich, but I think well worthy of -any sacrifice or hardship. He earnestly desires me to consent to begin -housekeeping as soon as we are married. I don’t want to, because I am -sure boarding will be wiser and safer than my unskillful housekeeping. -But my friend says, if I will consent, he will be patient with my -short-comings and mistakes, and will work enough harder to make up -for all I waste while learning. Poor fellow! he little dreams what an -ignoramus he is about to risk his comfort and perhaps happiness with. -Why, I know absolutely nothing of what I am just beginning to feel -is of the greatest importance, if we would secure a happy union. To -be sure, I can sing and dance well, so partial friends say. I paint -with skill and accuracy sufficient at least to amuse myself and while -away such time as would otherwise drag heavily during a rainy day, and -am quite skillful with my needle when I use it for fancy work; but -when it comes to useful, necessary work, I am as helpless and useless -as a child. Ah, if my dear parents had lavished half the money to -teach me household mysteries that was expended to make me _thoroughly -accomplished_, in the fashionable sense of that term, how happy I -should now be and how bright the future would appear! I have good -health, and, if I only knew how to do anything, would shrink from no -hardship; but I honestly know nothing useful. And this foolish lover -of mine talks about being patient with my mistakes until I learn to -keep house! Alas, it will take years to teach me so that I can see my -way through this fog and tangle of ignorance. I shall be an old woman, -bent and gray, before I understand the first principles of household -economy. Will he bear with me through all the vexatious blunders I -shall make while learning, and be patient if, after years of trial, he -finds I am but an awkward and unskillful worker still?” - -Yes, if this young man is worthy of your love, he will value the -efforts you make, and sympathize with you when you find the results -unsatisfactory. If he would have your praiseworthy struggles to make -the home attractive successful, he must not look back to the “leeks and -onions of Egypt,” but accept the journey through the wilderness with -cheerfulness, and be lovingly grateful if the “manna” falls at first -but seldom. Many a young, inexperienced wife has had all her efforts -paralyzed, because her husband was so often murmuring about _his -mother’s bread and pies and gingerbread_. That is cruel and unmanly. - -Now, in the first place, let us say to every young couple, _Go to -housekeeping by all means_. However awkward or unskillful you may be, -or however small and simple must be your habitation, do not let the -first years of married life be passed in a boarding-house. It is no -place to learn each other’s character, to become accustomed to the -peculiarities that belong to every one; it is no place to accept as -_home_. - -If you are not able to employ servants while you two, who have just -been made one, are the only occupants of your new home, happy are ye. -In this early stage of married life, to venture on boarding, or risk -the tyranny of servants, is to deprive yourselves of the sweetest -experiences of a true home. No matter how heavy or how light your purse -may be, if you are wise, commence small. If young people assume the -cares of a large mansion, and with it, of necessity, the supervision -of a number of servants, they will soon become disheartened, and vote -housekeeping wretched work. But in a small house, before “olive plants” -cluster around to tell you that - - “The cottage is too small, - And the table wanteth space,” - -you become accustomed to the care, and so well versed in all the -minutest details of home labor, that you will scarcely feel the -additional tax on your energies, either of the olive branches or a -larger house, and the additional care of servants, which will, of -necessity, come with a more imposing residence. - -Then, as to the shrinking from venturing into the new and untried -household domains, which young ladies so naturally feel who know -absolutely nothing but the “accomplishments” taught in schools, we -would say, for your encouragement, that the road to such knowledge -as will enable you to form some correct idea of the work which lies -before you is not so long or so difficult as your fears have led you to -imagine. With a willing heart, with hands made quick and skillful by -love, the way will soon become easy and pleasant. If possible, employ -much of the few last weeks before your marriage in making yourself -familiar with the rudiments of household affairs. Read all you can -about it,--how your house should be arranged, what will be necessary -in each department. Learn all you can about marketing,--what articles -are most desirable, and during what seasons; seek how to judge of the -quality of the food you buy, and the honest price for it. These are -homely details, but the knowledge will be all needed, indeed it is -indispensable to perfect you in good management; but you will secure -the most effective knowledge, and the greatest confidence in your own -capacity, by going about the house, and, little by little, doing -with your own hands the work belonging to each department, under your -mother’s supervision, or that of a well-trained housekeeper. At first, -as it is all new work to you, it will not be easy or pleasant; but -repeat the trial, and with each attempt you will find that you are -acquiring skill and courage. Let there be no part of household labor -that you do not perform a few times yourself, until you are well -assured that you have sufficiently mastered it to do it again, or to -detect any mistake or blunder in a servant. If you must keep servants, -they will give you little comfort unless they see from the first--and -they are usually very quick to discern between an intelligent or -ignorant mistress--that you mean to overlook your work daily, and are -abundantly able to discover any deviation from the right track. But -above all things, unless for a year or two after marriage you can -have the privilege of discarding servants entirely, endeavor, before -marriage, to feel so much at ease in the kitchen, and so far mistress -of cooking, that you will be able easily to detect any failure, and -know the reason for it. If bread is brought to the table that is -not satisfactory, it is wise to be able to say to your cook, with -confidence, “Your bread should have risen longer before being put -into the oven. It is not exactly heavy; but it feels solid, and bites -tough.” Or, “Your bread is full of holes. You have not kneaded it -sufficiently.” Or, “Cook, we must return that barrel of flour. It is -not good. See how it ‘runs’ as you are kneading it. We shall have no -real good bread from such flour.” “The pastry was not nice to-day. You -have handled it too much, and it cuts as tough as leather. Please be -more careful about it.” - -Thus, by spending an hour a day in your mother’s kitchen, taking an -active part in the work to be done there, and going through every -department in the same thorough manner, even one month will advance you -so that you can see the “silver lining” to all these clouds, and will -give you sufficient confidence in your own knowledge and power, to -banish all the mystery and dread. Then, when you walk with well-assured -steps, knowing that you have conquered so far, and can, of course, -conquer all, by patient endurance in well-doing, you will begin to -enjoy every step of progress you make. No matter if you are and will -be possessed of fabulous wealth, this knowledge should be secured by -every young lady. But should you begin with large or small means, in -either case your prospects of comfort and happiness are very insecure, -if you enter the married state unwilling to acquire that which every -woman should know,--the art of housekeeping. In after life, when home -cares may be less pressing, become lawyer, judge, or President, if you -can; but surely young women can find noble work, sufficient for all -their talents and energies, in laying the foundation of and securely -establishing a well-ordered and happy _home_. - - - - -XXXVII. - -CHOICE OF COLORS IN DRESS. - -BLONDES. - - -IN the selection of articles for dress, one should be guided, not only -by the quality of the fabric and durability of color, but also by -observing if the color will harmonize with the complexion of the wearer. - -Nothing marks refinement and culture, or the want of it, more than the -combination of colors in one’s attire. It is folly to spend time and -thought upon the adorning of the body, to the exclusion of other and -more important matters; but it is always wise to do well whatever is to -be done, and to develop and perfect such gifts as God has bestowed, -either of body or mind, so as to make them as attractive and valuable -as possible. We hold it to be a duty to give such time and thought to -dress as will secure the largest amount of pleasure and gratification -to one’s family and friends. To labor to secure a prominent position, -to become a leader of fashion, is another and very different thing. -When seeking to impart pleasure to friends, we are influenced by love; -but when striving to be among the most fashionable, we cater to a -selfish vanity or a poor and low ambition. - -Works on the combinations of color in dress divide complexions into -the “fair and ruddy blondes,” and the “pale and florid brunettes.” In -the fair blonde we find a delicate white skin; light hair, in all the -shades from a golden hue to yellow or orange-brown; light blue or gray -eyes; a slight tinge of rose on the cheek, and a richer tint on the -lips. In all such complexions the rose-color is not decided enough, and -the hair would be improved by a deeper hue; and these changes can be -made, in a good degree, by a suitable mingling of color in the dress. -One of the most favorable colors for the fair blonde is a _delicate -green_, as it imparts to the flesh-white of the skin a tint of red, -which, mingling with the natural hue, forms an agreeable rose-tint,--a -good contrast both to the face and hair, especially if the hair is -golden, inclining to orange. - -The best colors to mingle with the green, as trimmings, are red, -orange, and gold. Green and gold form a rich harmony, peculiarly -becoming to the fair blonde. Scarlet, blended with green, harmonizes -better than red; but if red, inclining to crimson, is used, then orange -and gold must also be combined with it. There are some shades of green -that are not becoming, unless blended with and enlivened by other -harmonious colors. A green bonnet, with rose-color and white, with a -white feather, will always be becoming for this complexion. Be careful -that too much white is not used, else it will have a cold effect, and -therefore will not aid the fair complexion so much. Orange or gold may -be substituted for the pink or rose; also red, in a small bonnet, but -neither should be placed close to the face. Orange, in a green bonnet, -in small quantities, is becoming, if the wearer’s eyes are blue. A few -autumnal shades of red, orange, or yellow-green are also in harmony -with the fair complexion; but dark green is not at all desirable. - -Blue is very suitable, giving an orange tint, which harmonizes finely -with the delicate white and flesh hues of the complexion. There is -always a natural trace of orange color on the skin, and this color, by -intensifying this natural tint, is very pleasing; but the blue must be -light, and not too positive. Blue being the perfect contrast of orange, -it agrees finely with golden or orange-brown hair. This is the reason -that light blue head-dresses are so very becoming on light hair. To -give a good effect to blue by gas-light, a little white or very pale -blue is necessary to be in contrast or very near the face. If there -are green leaves with the blue flowers of a head-dress, they should be -placed as near the face as possible. - -White, black, a very little yellow, orange, straw, or stone color, may -either of them be used in the trimmings of a light blue bonnet with -good effects; but not if there are pink or purple flowers on it, as -these colors mingled with blue are unsuitable. The colors to be used -carefully or avoided altogether, with fair complexions, are yellow, -orange, red, and purple. The light shades of lilac may be sometimes -used; but it is very trying, and must always, if used, be separated -from the flesh by an edging of tulle or some similar trimming, or be -associated with its harmonizing colors, cherry, scarlet, light crimson, -or gold color, and then they will in part overcome the bad effects; but -green and lilac should never be coupled, as it will form a positive -discord. A very little light purple is agreeable for a head-dress on -light hair, but must be placed near the skin. - -Neutral colors, if not too dark, accord well with fair blondes; gray, -fawn, drab, and some few shades of brown are the best. Black is good -for the fair blonde who has some healthy color, because it increases -the _rose_ in the complexion; but it is bad for pale skins, as it -bleaches them by the painful contrast. No delicate color can be blended -with black without seeming of a _lighter tone_. Unless used for -mourning, black must be mingled with either blue, cherry, mulberry, -drab, or lilac, to remove the somber effects; but cherry and lilac must -be used sparingly. Red must not be used at all with black for fair -blondes, as it gives a rusty tinge. White is suitable with black, if -some other color is added; otherwise it is too cold. A black bonnet -looks well with a fair complexion, but a little white and rose-color -should be added, keeping the rose away from the skin. White is pleasant -for all complexions, but more so with the fair blonde who has some -color than for any other. Bright colors with white bonnet may be added, -but must be kept low, and well grouped. White increases the paleness -of a pale skin, but this effect may be neutralized by a blue or green -wreath brought well on the face. - -The _ruddy blonde_ has a full-toned complexion, inclining to positive -rose-red or carnation; dark blue or brown eyes, blonde and brown -hair. All the colors suitable for the fair are generally suitable for -the ruddy blonde, but the tones and in some cases the hues must be -changed. As a rule this type may use more freedom in the selection of -colors than the fair; her complexion, not being so delicate, is less -sensitive. The hair being the medium between gold and black, and the -complexion higher toned and more positive, rich and moderately dark -colors may be used. - -Green is very becoming, but it must be of the darker shades, and not -the delicate green that is so becoming for the fair blonde. If the -complexion is light and can use more red, without being overcharged, -rich, full-toned green, such as grass or moss green, may be used, as, -although sufficiently bright to yield color to the skin, it is not so -powerful a contrast as to bleach it. In proportion as the complexion -increases in color a deeper green may be selected, passing from the -positive to the neutral hues, as sage, tea, or olive green. These -deep, neutral greens do not cast much red, while they both harmonize -with and reduce the natural hue. A simple rule for the ruddy blonde -is, the paler her complexion the brighter must be the green she -wears, the _rosier_ the cheek the deeper and more neutral must be -the green. For the high-toned blonde the green may be neutralized by -mingling rose, scarlet, orange, or white flowers. If on the inside of -a bonnet, the colored flowers must be surrounded with some gray or -semi-transparent material to keep from contrast with the skin. On the -outside dead-green or autumnal leaves, with a few flowers of orange -or scarlet, are selected. Rose-colored flowers harmonize better with -bright yellow-green than with dead-green leaves. - -_Blue_ also is suitable, but it follows the same rules as _green_: -it must be deeper and richer for the ruddy blonde than for the fair. -The best colors to associate with the rich blues are orange, salmon, -and chocolate; white and black also harmonize with blue. Bonnets and -head-dresses, and wreaths of blue, need the same colors blended as -for the fair blonde, only of a deeper tint, and all colors pointed -out as injurious by the one type must be avoided by the other. The -most difficult color to introduce in any dress is _violet_; its effect -on all complexions being so unsatisfactory. All skins appear yellow -when in contrast with it, and look sickly and disagreeable. A large -proportion of yellow is needed to reduce and neutralize the effects -of violet. It becomes positively lost in artificial light, and should -never be used or introduced into an evening dress. - -Neutral colors are mostly suitable for the ruddy blonde; when light -they increase the color, when dark they reduce it by contrast. Russet, -gray, slate, maroon, and all shades of brown are the most pleasing of -the _dark_ neutrals, and gray, drab, fawn, and stone color, the most -desirable of the _light_ neutrals. - - - - -XXXVIII. - -HARMONIZING COLORS IN DRESS. - -BRUNETTES. - - -IN the last chapter we noticed the colors most appropriate and -harmonious for the _fair_ and the _ruddy blonde_. We shall now note a -few peculiarities of the _pale_ and the _florid brunette_. - -In the _pale brunette_, the eyes and hair are usually a deep brown or -brown-black, and the skin pale, often with some sallow shade. With this -peculiar complexion, light or very dark colors are the most becoming, -because the light colors harmonize with the tint of the skin, and the -dark colors with the hue of the hair and eyes. Thus we follow Nature’s -coloring, and sustain her effective contrasts. When the colors of the -dress are a medium between the skin and hair and eyes, they “reduce the -expression, and injure or destroy the greatest charm.” - -_Black_ being similar to the color of eyes and hair, and a perfect -contrast to the complexion, increases the purity of the natural tints, -and is very suitable for the pale brunette. All the shades of dark -brown being similar to the hair and eyes, are also appropriate. Claret, -dark russet, and crimson are not unsuitable, but less desirable and -becoming than black or brown. - -Positive blue, green, or purple must not be used; but dark blue, green, -or violet may be accepted, provided the complexion has no shade of -yellow or sallowness. If there is, these colors must all be avoided. - -_White_, being analogous to the hue of the skin, is very desirable, -enhancing the richness of the eyes and hair, and, as it receives a -yellow tint from artificial light, is particularly desirable for an -evening dress for the pale brunette. Yellow and white united are also -becoming in the evening for this class of complexion, but become dull -by daylight, and very undesirable. Gold or maize color contrasts -pleasantly with black or dark brown eyes and hair, and neutralizes any -disagreeable sallowness that there may be in the skin. - -The _florid brunette_ often inclines to the olive complexion, and, in -many cases, to the copper-colored, or subdued yellow, or orange-brown, -with more positive red on lip and cheek than in the blonde types. The -eyes are black, the hair jet or blue-black. The tones yellow, orange, -and red predominate in the florid brunette, and harmonize together by -_analogy_ or _similarity_; but they also harmonize with the black hair -and eyes, by _contrast_; therefore great care and good judgment should -be exercised, lest this agreeable group of harmonizing tints should -be weakened or destroyed by the use of objectionable colors. On the -other hand, it is desirable to seek to neutralize any unpleasant tone -in the complexion, caused by too much yellow, which will otherwise -give a sallow and unhealthy tinge to the skin. Yellow, maize, or gold -color will effect this; because, while they contrast favorably with the -color of the hair and eyes, intensifying their richness by the purple -tint which this combination forms, they also harmonize, by analogy, -with the tints of the complexion, and at the same time sufficiently -neutralize any excess of yellow that these tints may exhibit. When the -skin shows more orange than yellow, maize or yellow in the dress will -enrich the complexion by the increase of red which these colors will -develop. - -A _yellow bonnet_ is very becoming to the florid brunette; but as -it is worn near and surrounds the face, much of its effects must be -neutralized by introducing violet, purple, or deep blue as trimmings; -they must not come in contact with the face, however, and should be -used very sparingly. - -Orange is too brilliant and gaudy to be used in dress, except in very -small quantities, and the same rule holds good of red, scarlet, bright -crimson, magenta, and all brilliant colors of the like class; they, -with orange, are suited to some complexions where it is advantageous -to neutralize, but they are too bright for general costume. A scarlet -head-dress is becoming with dark hair, intensifying it by contrast, and -by the purple shade which it adds when worn near black. Dark red, also, -is suitable for complexions that have too much red on the cheeks or -lips, neutralizing the color of the skin, and reducing it by contrast. -Violet is not agreeable, unless its bad effects are controlled or -counteracted by the addition of yellow; but the dark shades of violet -are less objectionable than the positive color. A violet bonnet -may be used with this type of complexion, if trimmed with pale -yellow,--primroses, for instance; the flowers being a good contrast to -the violet bonnet, and harmonizing well with the skin. - -A black bonnet is not as becoming for the brunette as for the blonde; -but by using white, red, orange, or yellow trimmings, it is quite -pleasing. It enhances the red by reducing the lighter tints of the -skin, but it has no power to neutralize any objectionable tint that may -exist. White is more favorable than black, and accords well with this -complexion. A white bonnet is suitable, if trimmed with red, orange, -or yellow; but the yellow should be mingled with white only for evening -wear. - -In grouping color with color, nothing is more common than to see -discordant tints placed together,--purple and green, for instance; and -however rich the material or beautiful the wearer, such incongruity -is exceedingly distasteful. In arranging colors, it should be borne -in mind that there are two kinds of harmony,--the harmony of contrast -and the harmony of analogy. When two dissimilar colors are blended -agreeably, such as blue and orange, or lilac and cherry, they form -a harmony of contrast. Two distant tones of one color, such as very -light and very dark blue, associated, harmonize by contrast; but -in this latter instance, the harmony is neither so striking nor so -perfect. When similar colors, such as orange and scarlet, crimson and -crimson-brown, are grouped together, they form a harmony of analogy; -and if two or more shades of color, closely approximating in intensity, -are associated, they harmonize by analogy. - -Harmonies of contrast are more effective, but not more important, than -those of analogy. The former are brilliant and decisive, the latter -quiet and undemonstrative. Both hold equal positions in matters of -dress, and in arranging the colors of the costume be careful to choose -the proper species of harmony. - -There are two rules to be observed: first, associate with colors -favorable to the complexion tints that will harmonize by analogy or -similarity, because contrasting colors would diminish and injure its -favorable effect; second, if the color selected for the dress is -injurious to the complexion, then contrasting color must be associated -with it, to neutralize its objectionable influence. - -There is much more to be said on the selection of colors for dress, -but we must not trespass longer. We hope that, by our having thus -called attention to this subject, our readers may find it sufficiently -interesting to become familiar with the rules given, and carry the -lessons it may have taught into practical use. - -We are very largely indebted to “A Manual for Ladies,” by W. and G. -Audsley, for much of the information grouped in this and the preceding -article. - - - - -XXXIX. - -A WORD ABOUT MOTHS. - - -“MOTHS in the winter! Pray don’t speak of them! Some weeks later -will be time enough to stir up our minds by way of remembrance. The -vexatious little torments! they surely don’t work in winter! And yet I -have noticed several little spots, or holes, that looked as if eaten -by moths. I am sure they were not there early in the fall: I couldn’t -understand it, but was so confident that moths did not do their -mischief in winter, that I have been trying to find some other cause -for these marks.” - -Ah! there was where you were mistaken. There are two kinds of -moths,--one a large silver-colored fly; its worm is shaped somewhat -like those found in chestnuts. The other was first noticed some -eight or ten years since, by the upholsterers. It is smaller, of a -brown or dark drab color. It is governed by no times or seasons, but -works steadily on, summer and winter. The heat of our city homes or -furnace-heated country-houses may promote this uninterrupted activity. -The moth or fly, it is said, finds its way into a sofa or chair between -the back or seat under the lining, where, among the springs, it finds -a safe and convenient hiding-place. They will often secure a home in -these secret places within a week of the time that furniture, right -from the cabinet-maker’s, has been brought into the house. If they do, -they are so enormously prolific that in a month or two they can be -numbered by thousands. We cannot but think that when, in a carefully -kept house, these moths are found in new furniture, they must have been -first introduced through poorly prepared hair or material with which -the article was upholstered or the hair, having been wet, was used -before it was carefully dried. This theory may be only an imagination -of our own but every year’s experience confirms the idea,--upholsterers -to the contrary notwithstanding. - -It is said that these moths will not eat pure curled hair, but only use -it to fasten their cocoons upon, as being secure from any disturbance, -through the elasticity of the hair. They use the inside of furniture -only for propagation, and here at the same time may be found the fly, -the worms, and the eggs. From this concealment the worm escapes, to -feed on the plush or woolen materials, or, falling to the floor, feeds -on the carpet. Plush being made with cotton back generally, they seldom -eat through that, though they do sometimes cut through the muslin -backs of sofas, etc. Little protection may be hoped for from the use -of cayenne pepper, Scotch snuff, camphor, turpentine, or all other -remedies against the large moth. Continual watchfulness is the only -safety. - -At least once a week the furniture should be moved away from the -walls into the middle of the room and well brushed and beaten with a -“furniture whip” or braided ratans. After brushing carefully all around -the buttons with a furniture button-brush, pull up the material which -will lie in loose folds or pleats about the buttons, and hold them -up with one hand while you brush off all lint or dust that may have -settled in these folds. These are nice little hiding-places for the -worm, and must be looked after. As fast as each piece of furniture has -been faithfully brushed and whipped, set it into the next room and keep -the doors closed. - -While cleaning, turn each chair or sofa bottom-side upward and beat the -backs and under part of the seats, to dislodge any that may have found -shelter inside. When the furniture has received all needed attention, -and is removed from the room, give the carpet a thorough cleansing by -going over it with a “carpet-sweeper.” Nothing so effectually gathers -up the worms or eggs, and the carpet is less worn than when swept with -a broom. Of course, in the corners and around the edges, where the -“carpet-sweeper” cannot work, you must use a small whisk-broom and -dust-pan, and this must be done before going over the main part of the -carpet. - -In using a “sweeper” be careful to empty it once or twice while going -over a large room, pulling out all the strings and hair that may, when -gathered up, have twisted around the axle of the circular brush inside -the box. If not removed, it will soon obstruct the motion, and its -operation be ineffectual. In using a “carpet-sweeper” have everything -out of the way of the machine, that you may have a clear surface across -the whole length of the room, if possible; hold the handle up nearly -straight, so as to bring all the brush underneath in contact with the -carpet; press down, and with a firm hand run over the breadth from one -end of the room to the other, going by the seam or thread, lengthwise. -When at the farther end lift up the box so that it will not touch the -carpet, and, turning round, proceed till the whole length of the carpet -has been swept; then begin widthwise and proceed in the same manner, -only be careful to run straight. If the “sweeper” is turned round while -resting on the floor, the dirt is apt to drop out in rolls by the -process of turning. It requires a little experience and good judgment -to use a “carpet-sweeper” judiciously; but once understand it and you -will not willingly be without one. When this work is done, empty all -the dirt from the “sweeper” and comb the rolling-brush with a coarse or -“fringe-comb.” - -But to return to the moths. If they get inside your furniture, they -may be destroyed by taking off the muslin under the seats, the outside -ends, and the backs, where they most naturally seek privacy. If this -must be done, take each piece out to the yard or on a back veranda, -after you have removed the lining; spread down an old sheet and set the -furniture on it, and beat with a stick to dislodge the moths. Watch for -the flies and worms that you have routed, and kill them as fast as they -are seen. If you do not succeed in killing all of them, by a repetition -of this operation a few times they will be disturbed and leave the -furniture, as they seek to be left in quiet. If they attack the carpet -they generally begin under the sofas and chairs or on the edges of the -carpet in the corners of the room. In this case, as soon as you find -the first intimation of their ill-omened presence, spread a wet sheet -on the carpet, and pass a hot flat-iron over quickly; keep a number of -irons heating and change often. The heat and steam will destroy both -worm and egg. - -But do not let this success beguile you into any remissness. They can -“creep slyly through a tiny space,” and in a few weeks, if they find -you sleeping on your post, will effect an entrance, and will have -increased and multiplied until the last state of that furniture will be -worse than the first. - - - - -XL. - -WINTER BUTTER. - - -MUCH has been said and written on making winter butter. Our papers -bring daily complaints of the article as sold in our markets, and -furnish us with many elaborate directions how to overcome an evil which -can no longer be meekly endured. - -In large butter factories, with every facility for preserving uniform -temperature, it is not easy to accept any excuse for poor butter, -summer or winter; but when butter is only made in small quantities, -simply for family consumption, and at a time when the cows are giving -much less milk than in the summer and fall, there is a necessity for -more care and labor in securing good butter than when we can furnish -green pastures and fresh food for the cows. Still we all expect, and -should be willing to accept, more discomforts in our winter’s labors -than we find in warm weather. Aside from these considerations we fail -to see any insurmountable difficulty in securing good sweet butter in -the winter. Of course we do not look for yellow butter at this season -of the year, and when we see it we distrust its purity; but the golden -color, though desirable, as a pleasure to the eye, is not an essential. -For years we made a large portion of our own butter from only one cow, -with but a few conveniences, and with very limited accommodations to -aid us in the work; but we never had _bitter_ butter, and have never -found a good reason why any one should be compelled to suffer from that -infliction. - -In the first place, a great deal depends on having pure, clear milk -to start with, and to secure that we think a warm, clean shelter and -good food should be provided for the animals. Aside from good hay, free -from mustiness, they should have as large a supply of roots--beets, -pumpkins, carrots, or potatoes, whichever is the most convenient, -or some of all--as you can furnish; but whatever is given should be -entirely free from decay, if you would have a healthy cow and pure milk. - -The milk will receive no unnatural flavor from any or all of these -roots; but no skill can conceal the use of cabbages or turnips, however -small the quantity. We know many affirm that they invariably give them -to their milch cows and perceive no disagreeable taste in the milk from -their use. Judging from much of the butter found in our markets, we -can easily believe that cabbages and turnips were lavishly fed to the -cows from whose milk the butter was made; and how any one can fail to -notice the unpleasant flavor given by such food we cannot understand. -Still, we will not quarrel with those who choose to use these esculents -so long as our cows are not fed with them and we are not obliged to eat -the butter. - -Warm food, at least once a day, is not only good for the animal, but -insures a better quality and larger quantity of milk and butter. It -is very little trouble to put a large kettle over the stove or range -early in the morning, and boil such small potatoes as are not nice for -table use, or a few carrots, together with all the parings of potatoes -or the rind of pumpkins left from cooking. When they have become soft, -mash with a long-handled masher, such as any boy of ten has sufficient -skill to make; then thicken the water in which they were boiled with a -few handfuls of “shorts” or coarse barley or oatmeal; corn meal will -decrease the quantity of milk and fatten the cow. Give your cows a -generous feed of this _mush_ once a day at least, and they will amply -repay your care by increasing and enriching the supply of milk. - -With your cows thus fed, kept dry and warm, well cleaned and -curried,--for a cow needs that care as much as a horse,--you will have -good milk, and from it cream which, with proper care, can be as readily -made into _good_ butter in winter as in summer. - -Now as to “proper care,” we speak only of private families who have -but one or two cows. If your milk-room is in the cellar, it should be -entirely separated from the vegetable cellar, and used for nothing -that can impart any flavor to the milk, either meats, roots, sauces, -or fluids. If it is well cemented and banked up, so as to prevent -freezing, you will have very little trouble in keeping the milk warm -enough for the cream to begin to rise quickly. Of course you will pour -boiling water into the pans, and have them well heated before straining -the milk into them. If you have on hand two sizes of pans, fill the -larger one third full of boiling water, then strain the milk into a -smaller pan, filling it not half full, and set it into the hot water; -turn another pan over the top, but not close enough to exclude all air. -By so doing you will find that the cream will rise more rapidly and can -be more easily churned. When one has but little milk, this is not much -trouble. - -If you have no cellar that can be kept warm and free from the smell -of vegetables, set your milk on a shelf, in a warm closet, where, of -course, you will keep no vegetables or meats, as nothing is so easily -impregnated with odors of all kinds as milk. Cover the pans or bowls -with a fine net, to exclude dust or motes of any kind. - -Thirty-six hours is as long as milk should remain unskimmed, summer or -winter. Every hour longer, even though the milk may taste sweet, is -insuring bitter butter. As you skim off the cream, stir it well each -time. The cream should not be in the cream-pot longer than two days -before churning. Three days _may_ give you moderately good butter, but -it is a very doubtful experiment. - -“But how can we churn every two days when we do not gather more than a -quart of cream in that time? It would be lost in our churn; we could do -nothing with it.” - -Take it into a large bowl, and beat or stir it steadily with a silver -or wooden spoon. It will take you no longer than to churn in the -regular manner, and you will secure a nice roll of sweet butter. But -a better, because an easier and more convenient way, is to buy a tall -one-gallon stone jar, and get a carpenter to turn you a handle; put -on two cross-pieces at the bottom, full of holes; or a circle small -enough to go into the jar; pierce this circle with holes as large as a -thimble; another circle for a cover, just to fit the top of the jar, -with a hole in the center that will slip over the handle, and you -have a nice churn, dasher and all. Now put on your large apron, lay a -book on the table before you, take your little churn in your lap or -on a bench by your side, and read, churn, and rock the cradle if need -be (reading and rocking the cradle are not essential, but are very -pleasant additions). In fifteen minutes’ steady churning you will find -the butter has come, and can be brought together in this tiny churn as -nicely as you can desire. If you can’t get at a carpenter, ask your -husband or son to do it; or, failing there, haven’t you mechanical -skill sufficient to make a dasher and fit it to a stone jar yourself? -A piece of a broom-stick, scoured and polished with sand-paper (or -if you have no sand-paper scrape it clean and smooth with a bit of -glass); two cross-pieces full of holes, screwed on to the bottom of the -stick; a round piece fitted into the top of the jar for cover,--you -can _whittle_ it smooth, can you not?--with a hole for the handle to -pass through, and you have just as serviceable a churn as any carpenter -could make you, only, perhaps, lacking a little in the finish a -carpenter might have given. - -Now, as to the working of the butter: some say, wash it faithfully; -others insist that no water should come in contact with the butter. -If you have strength and skill enough to work out all the buttermilk -with a ladle, or a hand cool and firm enough to toss it from one hand -to the other, giving quick, skillful blows as it passes, so that every -drop of buttermilk may be beaten out, then we say, _never wash the -butter_. But although you do, and by washing must lose some of the rich -flavor our mother’s butter used to have, before there were any “modern -improvements,” still, better so than not secure entire freedom from -buttermilk. If any remains, you cannot have butter that will keep sweet -one week. - -Take the butter from the churn into a wooden bowl that has been well -scalded, and then soaked and cooled in cold water, and with the ladle -press out all the buttermilk you can; this done, throw a handful of -salt into three or four quarts of cold water, and wash the butter -quickly and thoroughly with it; the salt causes the buttermilk to flow -off more readily; pour off the salt-water, and wash again with clear -cold water till it runs clear, drain off and sprinkle over the butter -what salt it requires to suit your own taste. There is such a variety -of tastes, that the exact quantity of salt cannot be easily given. We -use a table-spoonful of salt to a pound of butter. Press the butter -into a compact form, after working in the salt, cover over with a clean -cloth, and set it away to harden. The next morning break up and work -it over once more; make into neat rolls or prints, put it into a stone -pot, and cover with brine strong enough to bear up an egg. Try this and -see if you cannot have good butter in winter. - - - - -XLI. - -REPAIRS. - - “The mother, wi’ her needle an’ her shears, - Gars auld claes look amaist as weel’s the new.” - - -A FRIEND writes: “I have been much interested in the Grand Patching -and Darning Exhibition; but my husband is rather skeptical as to any -great good resulting from it. He seems to think it a waste of time to -do this work with such particularity, and doubts if, in these days -of plenty, women will find it necessary to patch, piece, and darn so -elaborately. I reply, that probably a large portion of those who have -seen or read of this work may never be called upon to do it; yet we -know that there are many, very many who are, and will be, compelled -to _economize material, though at the loss of time_; and therefore I -think this exhibition will prove a good thing, if it should lead to a -more thorough knowledge of the way to do this work well. How much more -respectable and comfortable the poorer classes could be made, if the -wife and mother understood how to piece, patch, and darn neatly, and so -contrive that the smallest scrap could be used to good advantage and -present an attractive appearance. I wish you would give us a talk on -this subject.” - -So much has been said, and well said, since this Exhibition was first -planned, that a word from us may seem quite superfluous. A motherly -care for our “Household,” however, tempts us to venture, though we -do not intend to weary our readers with many words. Every point has -already been ably discussed, and we can furnish nothing new. - -Possibly, many of those who have read about this “Darning and -Patching” have turned away, saying, “Thank fortune! I shall never need -to employ myself about such work; I should feel that I was spending my -time foolishly.” Would the time spent in perfecting yourself in this -accomplishment be more wasted, think you, than that which you give -daily to crocheting and embroidering a host of things unlike aught in -heaven above, the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth? And -yet, the time spent in fancy work has taught you little that you could -turn to practical use, should reverses befall you,--and who is secured -against reverses? Fortune is fickle, and policies taken out in her -insurance companies are not reliable. - -We would not speak slightingly of many kinds of really elegant fancy -articles and ornaments which women’s skill has wrought. If you have the -time to spare, then, “these ought ye to have done, but not to leave -the other undone.” Should disaster come, and any of us be compelled to -“rise up early, and sit up late, and eat the bread of carefulness,”--to -plan and turn and contrive, using all the skill we possess to “gar auld -claes look amaist as weel’s the new,”--how thankful we should be that -in our younger and more prosperous days we had been taught this art, -and by it were now able to carry with us into our altered circumstances -a power to bring light out of darkness. If one knows how to renovate -and remodel, there is far more genuine pleasure in using the knowledge -to construct new out of old, than can possibly be gained while shopping -on the most extravagant scale. To walk into a store with a full purse, -and buy, without stint, whatever the eye covets; to send the material -to the dress-maker, and have it made and brought home without any -effort on our part, is a tame enjoyment compared with contriving the -dress from a scanty pattern, or from odd bits and ends. We weary of -that which costs us no toil or thought; the charm soon vanishes, and we -seek for something new. - -Now, suppose you examine a dress that has done good service. It is -somewhat spotted and a good deal soiled; but you say, “It is so pretty -and becoming, I shall feel like losing an old friend if I throw it -aside; what can I do to renew its beauty?” If the material is silk or -woolen, even of the most delicate colors, you can very easily clean -it without fading. After ripping it with care, prepare equal parts of -_alcohol, soft soap, and molasses_. Half a pint of each will clean a -silk dress, unless you have wasted twenty-five or thirty yards on one -dress; in that case you will need a larger quantity of the preparation. -Have near you two small tubs or pails of water, one warm, the other -cool, unless the material is woolen, when you should use hot water for -both. Spread one piece of the dress at a time on to an ironing-sheet; -dip a clean sponge into this very dirty-looking, but very effective -wash; rub each spot separately till you have cleansed it; then, keeping -the sponge wet, go over the whole piece, wetting it thoroughly, and -carefully removing the dirt and spots. When satisfied that you have -done your best, rinse the piece faithfully in the first water; do not -wring it, but hold it up and let it drain a moment; then shake and -snap vigorously, to remove as much water as you can. Put it through -the second water in the same manner; snap as dry as you can, at least -so that it will not drip; spread smoothly on the ironing-sheet, and -iron quickly. Be careful to _iron by a thread_, and iron till perfectly -dry. Have your irons as hot as you can use without scorching. If the -material is the same on both sides, iron on that which was first used -as the outside of the dress, but make it up inside out. - -This preparation is such a vile, dirty-looking compound, one would -suppose it would ruin anything touched by it. Not so at all. We have -cleaned the most delicate silks and ribbons,--blues, violets, pinks, -and greens,--and have never failed to secure a very good renovation of -the materials, without changing or weakening the color, or leaving the -harsh, stiff crackle on the silk which washing usually gives. - -Having cleansed the dress, now, suppose you see how much ingenuity you -can display in remodeling it. Change the gathers or pleats, that the -most wear may fall on stronger spots; alter the position of trimming -to hide some weak place, or improvise something to suit the exigencies -of the case. If cracked or much worn at top and bottom, cut off all -that must go; then cut the upper part of the skirt off from the bottom, -about as high up as you wish your trimming to go, and set in a piece -of lining or paper muslin, to supply the length of what you have cut -away from the broken parts of the skirt. Over this “sham” lay the fold, -puff, ruffle, or flounce you have prepared for trimming. It is good -economy, we think, to buy a large pattern when you get a new dress, -that there may be some left for repairs, at least for new sleeves and -waist; but if you have none, _piece_,--piece very neatly, of course; -and with ribbon, silk, or velvet, of a color to contrast, or harmonize -with the dress, form your trimmings. - -By skill, a garment may be so entirely metamorphosed, that your -“dearest and best” will compliment you on your new dress. The only good -thing about the present style of overskirts, flounces, paniers, bows, -and every conceivable and inconceivable shape of trimming, is, that it -is a wonderful help in making old things new. - -Some time since, we noticed that a young friend, who is generally -remarkably neat and simple in her taste, was rather more elaborately -dressed than usual. We honestly complimented her on the pretty silk, -the fine fit, and very becoming color. - -“But I see,” said she, “you refrain from a word of commendation for -my trimmings. They don’t suit your taste, I know, my friend, and pray -don’t think that they are in exact accordance with my own. Let me tell -you a secret. Every bow, band, strap, fold, and frill hides a piece set -in or a hole mended.” - -In the midst of a large company, there was not a lady that appeared -more genteelly or better dressed than our friend. If there were more -like this modestly independent and industrious girl, we should hear -very little of the talk, so common nowadays, that young men are unable -to marry, _because_ the young ladies are so extravagant. - - - - -XLII. - -ACCURATE WEIGHTS AND MEASURES IN COOKING. - - -YOUNG housekeepers very often complain that, notwithstanding their -most earnest efforts to work in strict accordance with given rules or -receipts, their failures are more frequent than their successes. They -admit that sometimes their work proves satisfactory, but ask, “Why -should it not always be so?” - -The difference in the results of their various trials can only -be attributed to the method and accuracy, or to the haste and -carelessness, with which their labor is performed. Unless there was -some fault in the materials, some difference in the quality, arising -from change between the successive trials, or the oven and fire were -not properly regulated, there can be no reason for the failure, except -the fact that the receipts and rules were not always strictly followed. - -“But,” say they, “we used to see our mothers throw the materials -together, apparently without thought, and we have often seen others -set about the work of making cake, pies, or bread with such an easy, -nonchalant air that, to our inexperienced eyes, it was perfectly -marvelous that any good results could possibly follow; yet the article -would come from the oven in all respects perfect. Time after time we -have seen this done, and the work always blessed with a satisfactory -termination; but if we attempt that mode of labor, the most disastrous -and mortifying consequences are sure to rise up against us. Why is -this?” - -Simply because you are attempting to walk before you have learned to -creep, and naturally get some sore falls by the premature attempt. -It is only when accustomed to this labor by long years of constant -practice, so that it is done almost by instinct, that any one should -venture to deviate from strict observance of well-established rules. -But there are very few, comparatively, of the most accomplished and -mature housekeepers who attempt this free-and-easy way of cooking; or -if, in some emergency requiring haste, they are driven to it, they -will assure you that they seldom succeed so perfectly as they would -have done had they weighed and measured with their usual care and -precision. Occasionally we find a few natural-born cooks, with “a law -unto themselves,” just as we find persons who have a natural gift for -dress-making and millinery, whose work, performed instinctively, equals -any French _modiste’s_. But such cases are rare, and, we are inclined -to think, undesirable, except for one’s own ease. Where there are young -girls about, either in the family or among friends, who may be obliged -to look to you for instruction, you would find it very difficult and -embarrassing, had you that gift, to attempt to teach or put into words -anything which you are able to do so entirely by intuition. Even -in your own mind, you would find yourself at a loss how to frame a -definite rule or receipt for doing it. Your _hands_ seem to perform it -independently of your _head_. Let some of these gifted ones attempt -to write out a receipt which a beginner could easily follow, and they -would make much more awkward work of it than you do in your efforts to -work without a definite rule. - -“But even when we do proceed in exact accordance with the receipts, we -often fail.” - -Are you sure you are _exact_? We think not. It requires some little -experience to be able to weigh and measure correctly, and we have often -noticed that it is the lack of this experience which causes failure -in most young housekeepers. If it lacks “only a little” of being full -weight, or is “only a little” too much, are you not very likely to say, -“O, it’s quite near enough; such slight difference can’t matter, and I -am in a hurry”? - -“Only a little thing” has done much harm in almost every department of -life,--a mischief that is often irremediable. If there is only a little -too much flour, your bread or cake will be solid; not heavy, perhaps, -but lacking that light, tender state which is so desirable. Or, if only -a little less than the proper measure is used, it will “fall” from the -crust, and come upon your table flat and sodden. - -A pair of scales and accurate measures are the only safe reliance, but -these are not always to be found in every family. It is, therefore, -very desirable to have always at hand a table of correct _measures_. -Indeed, when the table is perfect, it is much more convenient and -easier to prepare the proper proportions by measuring than by weighing, -only one must use care and judgment to allow for any extraordinary -moisture in the articles, as it would affect a measure more than -scales. It is always better to put flour, meal, sugar, etc., near the -fire to dry before measuring. - -A table of measures, plainly printed in good-sized type, should be hung -over the table or on the wall in every kitchen. - -We close with a convenient table of _liquid and dry measure_:-- - -LIQUID. - - 60 drops = 1 teaspoonful. - 2 teaspoonfuls = 1 table-spoonful. - 4 table-spoonfuls = 1 half-gill. - 8 ” = 1 gill. - 2 gills = 1 tumblerful or half-pint. - 2 tumblerfuls = 1 pint. - 2 pints = 1 quart. - 4 quarts = 1 gallon. - -DRY. - - 2 even teaspoonfuls = 1 even table-spoonful. - 4 ” table-spoonfuls = 1 ounce. - 8 ” ” = 1 gill. - 2 gills = 1 tumblerful or half-pint. - 2 tumblerfuls = 1 pint. - 2 pints = 1 quart. - 1 heaped q’t sifted flour } = about 1 pound. - 1 ” ” sugar } - 1 even q’t softened butter} - 1 pint of water = 1 pound. - 10 eggs = about 1 pound. - - - - -XLIII. - -TEACHING LITTLE GIRLS TO SEW. - - -“YES, I suppose I shall be obliged to teach my little girl to sew, some -time; but I am very thankful that I have some years yet before I need -take up this cross. I supply her with bits of cloth, needles, thread, -and scissors, and let her amuse herself with an attempt at sewing; but -how I dread the time when I must begin in earnest, and try to teach her -the proper way! I sometimes hope that by letting her botch and play -sewing, by and by, as she sees me making even seams, and taking small -stitches, she will, by imitation and observation, gradually learn, -without much effort on my part. Do you not think that she may?” - -Never. No doubt some children learn with much less effort than others; -but by letting your little girl “play sewing,”--_botching_ as you term -it,--you only connive at her acquiring a careless habit which she will -not easily exchange for straight seams and tiny stitches. - -“Would you advise me to keep thread and needles and cloth from her, and -endeavor to interest her in some other play, till such time as I am -compelled to teach her how to use them properly?” - -No; why should you debar her from such innocent amusements? Why not -begin at once to teach her how to do a thing right, even when in play? - -“Teach that baby! What can she learn at her age?” - -Can she not thread her needle? - -“Certainly; quite expertly.” - -And can she not push her needle in and out of the cloth? - -“O yes; for a baby, she shows quite a genius for this quiet kind of -womanly accomplishment.” - -Then you see she can learn something, notwithstanding her youth. How -much more maturity or skill, think you, will it require for her to -learn, by a few well-directed efforts on your part, how to put the -needle in at proper distances, taking up only just so many threads for -a stitch? - -“Why, she is only a baby; but little past three years. Teach her! How -preposterous! You must be--” - -Growing imbecile, you think. Very likely; but these ideas are no -indication of it. They are good, solid common-sense, we think; such -as our mothers and grandmothers acted upon, in the olden times, when -early teaching and genuine industry were fashionable; when there were -more busy bees to “improve each shining hour” of childhood; when these -first years, which were then passed in “books and work and healthful -play,” were a thousand times more childlike and happier than our days -of modern improvement. Now, the toddling wee things are carried in the -nurses’ arms to infant parties, dressed and flounced and frizzed, until -every vestige of simple childhood is lost in their painfully ludicrous -efforts to imitate their more foolish elders,--kept up far beyond a -healthful bedtime, and fed with food injurious even to mature stomachs, -but ruinous to a child’s digestion. Ah, dear little woman! will it be -a harder task, requiring more skill and patience, to take your little -girl on your lap, ten or fifteen minutes every day, and show her how -to hold and use the needle; taking the warm, soft, innocent little -hands, with loving caresses, into yours, and guiding the tiny fingers, -until at last she learns to put the needle through the cloth, at proper -distances, unaided; will this be harder or more tiresome than to dress -and worry over your little one till she is drilled in dancing, taught -to bow and curtesy, and gracefully accept her baby partner’s hand in -the dance? Will it give you no pain to see the first development of -envy, jealousy, and ill temper forced into active growth under such -training? Compare this toil and responsibility with the soft and loving -prattle of your little girl, as she nestles in your lap, and, with -merry laugh, watches the bright needle go to and fro; and when at last -she masters one stitch, and you pronounce it _well done_, will not her -shout of triumph repay the teacher’s trouble? Will it any longer be a -work to dread? On the contrary, will you not look forward to that daily -lesson as the sweetest duty of the day? - -“All this sounds very pretty; but when we come to the reality,--the big -stitches, the long stitches, the puckers and gathers, the mistakes and -vexatious carelessness,--how many yards of cloth will be wasted before -one inch of decent sewing can be accomplished by a little child?” - -Not one. Cut out a little block of patchwork. Tell the child that she -may make a quilt for her doll’s bed just as soon as she can do it well. -Use pretty, bright colors. Take her on your lap, and show her how a -stitch must be taken, making merry, gentle speeches to her as the work -goes on. “See, pet, you must take up two of these threads on that -side, and put your needle through two more on the other side, then -pull the needle through; that’s one stitch; mamma did that. Now let’s -see the little girl take one just like it. No, no; let mamma hold your -hand steady. There, that’s right. Now you may try again. See, you have -taken up a _leetle_ too much on that side. We’ll just pull that out, -I think, and try again. It was pretty well, but a little bit longer -than the last, and I guess Dolly won’t quite like it; so we’ll pull -it out, and be very careful next time. There, that’s my little woman! -You have made three nice stitches, and we will put up the sewing now, -and run out doors to play. When papa comes home, mamma will have to -show these pretty stitches, and he will be very much pleased.” In this -way, it will not be many weeks before the square for Dolly’s small bed -will be finished, and you will say, “My little daughter has done it so -very nicely, I think we will have to make another, and piece the two -together to make a bigger quilt.” Before a year passes, we are sure you -will have a quilt large enough for your little girl’s own bed, every -stitch well done, and both mother and child drawn closer together and -made happier by each day’s lessons. It is, we think, a great mistake -while teaching a child to sew, to pass over very poor work, simply -because you think after awhile she will learn to do better; and you -will throw the few early attempts aside, rather than be at the trouble -of picking out imperfect stitches. Only a half-inch, or three or four -stitches a day, well done, is a great gain. Be gentle, but very firm. -Do not drill the child till it becomes weary, and will shrink from a -second trial; but yet, let it be well understood that every stitch must -be perfect before it will be accepted, and then be lavish of praise -when the effort is successful. Do not destroy the child’s _first work_, -thus carefully done. It will give you much pleasure when your daughter -has become a woman, and be invaluable to her as an evidence of your -faithful teachings when you are forever hid from her eyes. - - - - -XLIV. - -THE CARE OF POULTRY. - - -WE make no pretense to any great skill or experience in raising -poultry, and may not be able to furnish satisfactory answers to -questions which have been sent by some of our readers who appear -wellnigh discouraged by repeated failures; but we venture a few -suggestions which, if acted upon, will, we think, in part at least, -overcome some portion of their difficulties and perplexities, and may -be acceptable to others in their first attempt. - -The agricultural papers are filled with descriptions and -recommendations of many fanciful, and, no doubt, very excellent, -heneries and poultry-yards. We have very little acquaintance, however, -with these modern improvements. The few we have seen do not excite our -enthusiasm, and we cannot see that the income or gain in any degree -compensates for the extra expenditure. We do not learn that Nero’s -horses were much benefited when fed on golden oats and shod with -shoes of the same precious metal; nor do we believe hens sheltered -in sumptuous palaces will be more productive than our Leghorns and -Cochins. But each one has a right to his own peculiar fancies; we are -speaking now to those who have not yet found time or means to build -fancy heneries, but content themselves with more simple arrangements. - -We think it important, if possible, to have a good yard and commodious -hen-house, in which _laying_, _setting_, and _roosting_ apartments can -be kept separate. These conveniences cannot always be secured as ample -and pleasant as is desirable; but however simple the accommodations may -be, it is indispensable that the building be kept scrupulously clean if -you would insure success. The _roost_ requires the most care. It should -be swept out once a week, the poles and sides being well brushed off -with a stiff broom, and the loose feathers and droppings from under -the poles collected in barrels, removed from the hen-house, and kept -dry. It is an excellent manure or guano, and very valuable when well -composted. - -The same care is needed in the _laying_ and _setting_ rooms. It is -wise, once a week, to take all the straw from the nests, brush the -boxes out clean, and replenish with fresh straw. A little ashes or a -few bits of charcoal put under the straw helps to keep the nests sweet. -The old straw and filth should be put on the compost heap. In the -_setting_ apartment the nests must not be disturbed till the eggs are -all hatched, and the little chicks, with their mother, removed. Then -the box must be emptied, well washed, dried, and whitewashed, ready for -a new occupant. - -It takes time and some trouble to keep the hen-house and yard always -clean; but it well repays the trouble, and, if well done every week, -will really take less time than to have a grand _clearing up_ once or -twice a year. These clearing days in dwellings or outbuildings are -great nuisances and torments, making every one cross and uncomfortable; -but if in each department it is understood that everything must always -be put into its appropriate place, and that once a week the whole is to -be tidied up, the most careless, if once tempted to try the experiment, -would be astonished at the increased ease of the labor, and the -pleasure would certainly be fourfold. - -Every fall and spring and once at least during the summer the birds -should all be turned out of the house and yard, that the inside of -the building may be well smoked with sulphur, and then thoroughly -whitewashed, to secure the destruction of the vermin and the good -health of the occupants. A day should be selected when no hens are -sitting, and then some charcoal must be kindled in an old tin or pan -kept for the purpose in each compartment, and some bits of sulphur -sprinkled over the coals when well burning. This done, shut the doors -and windows tightly, and leave the sulphur to burn out, which it will -do in a few hours; then throw open the doors and windows and let in -the air. After this, every part must be well whitewashed, filling all -cracks, holes, or corners with the wash,--particularly the nests or -boxes for the laying and sitting hens. Sprinkle a few small bits of -charcoal in the nests, when dry, to keep them sweet; fill them with -fresh straw, and recall the fowls to their clean home. - -A box or bin of wood-ashes should be placed in one corner of the -roosting apartment, and kept always filled, and free from filth, for -poultry to roll in and free themselves from vermin as far as possible. - -The roost should be made so that the poles can be raised or let down at -pleasure. In the winter, have the poles raised as high as may be, as -the heat ascends, and the fowls need as warm a place as possible for -winter. In summer, lower the roost, that they may sleep where the air -circulates freely. If possible, provide a good roomy yard back of the -hen-house, where the hens may have ample space to range. Plums do well -in such yards, and the hens do much toward destroying the curculio. Old -pans or wooden troughs filled with water must be kept in the yard, that -the hens may have drink at all times. If you have plenty of skim-milk -or buttermilk, they will be grateful for all you can spare, and show -their gratitude by the increase of their daily offerings. - -Heaps of old plaster or oyster-shells must be kept in different parts -of the yard; if part of the shells can be burned and pounded, it will -be better. Any slops from the house will be of great benefit; and if -no pigs are kept, everything that is thrown into the “swill-pail,” not -salt, can be used to advantage. Keep all water in which potatoes and -vegetables are boiled; throw their parings or skins into it, and after -each meal put in all refuse bits, bring this water to a boil, stir in a -handful or two of coarse meal, and in winter feed it to the hens warm, -and you will find it very acceptable and profitable. Every scrap of -fresh meat, soup bones, but no _salt_ meat, will do them good. If near -a butcher’s shop, he will sell you for a few pennies, or give you, the -“lights” or the head of one of the animals. Chop it up and throw it -into the poultry-yard. Worms and grasshoppers will help them through -the summer months; but they must have something in the way of fresh -meat in winter. Every morning and evening scatter cracked or whole corn -about the yard in a clean place. In picking it up, they will take with -it a little gravel, which is very necessary to keep them healthy. - -In many cases it is not convenient or thought necessary to provide a -hen-house and yard, all the poultry being allowed to roam at will over -the premises. A little care will train them to keep from doing any -great mischief in the gardens; but you must not expect too much; if -you have grapes, currants, or small fruit, these will be too tempting -for a hen’s nature to resist, and, in the end, it will be found to be -worth considerable sacrifice of time and money to place them out of the -reach of temptation. Besides, if they are allowed to roam, you cannot -track their nests at all times, and you will be left without an egg in -the house when most needed. With very little care, and by selecting the -best and most reliable breeds, this need never happen where hens are -kept in an inclosure and with a suitable house. The pure Leghorns molt -but six weeks in the year,--in November and December. If they bring -out their broods the first of April, the pullets will begin to lay in -October, just as their mothers begin to molt. If hatched in August or -early September, they will lay by the first of April; so that part of -the hens will be laying all the time. Some people kill off their hens -as soon as the pullets begin to lay, thus having no molting fowls on -their premises; but we think this foolish. The second year’s eggs are -usually larger, and a hen may be kept profitably for three or four -years. Our own experiments lead us to think the White Leghorns and -Cochins the best layers. - - - - -XLV. - -INSTITUTIONS FOR THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. - - -VASSAR is, we think, the first college for women ever established. The -liberal provision for its maintenance, in accordance with the wishes -of the founder,--the chapel, library, cabinet, recitation-rooms; the -houses for the professors; the dormitories for the students; the -dining-hall and kitchen; the laundry and the bakehouse,--every needed -accommodation, are all completed in the most approved manner. The -whole is heated by steam, and lighted by gas. Here physical culture -receives all the care that modern science and experience can give. A -floral garden is managed by the young ladies. Gymnastic exercises, -horseback riding, driving, boating, or skating have their full share -of encouragement and attention. The whole establishment and its -arrangements are most excellent, securing a suitable amount of exercise -to insure good health, and also clear heads for the hours devoted to -study. - -But in this generous provision for accomplishments for our young -daughters, and thorough training in all healthful exercise, there -seems to have been one department entirely overlooked, which certainly -demands a large share of attention, and where, we think, faithful -instruction in the rudiments should, in connection with other -departments, begin in the earliest and most simple lessons, with the -full understanding that it must go hand in hand with other branches -through the whole course. We mean a full and most thorough instruction -in all that belongs to domestic economy and household lore. - -The preparatory instruction and full collegiate course, in a girl’s -education, should embrace more years than are thought necessary to -prepare a boy to graduate and enter upon the duties of manhood, because -we are sure our girls’ minds are overburdened by an attempt to crowd -too many studies into each year, thus keeping them constantly hurried -and overtaxed. They have many things to do while in school that boys -are not expected to do, or, at any rate, which they never undertake. No -young lady, we trust, would sit down to her studies, in the morning, -until her room was neatly put in order. Many little touches are needed -to secure this, which they cannot depend upon a chamber or parlor maid -to do well, and which it would not be consistent with womanly neatness -to leave undone. Then a girl has her wardrobe to watch over; rips to -mend, buttons to replace, and numerous other things which a boy has -done for him or leaves undone. In girlhood as in later life, woman’s -duties are more complex and varied than man’s. There are so many little -things, insignificant in themselves, but of wonderful importance, in -that skillful combination which must be woven together to make the -perfect whole in a woman’s character, that it is unsafe to skim lightly -over any. Some items appear very trifling and unimportant, when not -viewed as connecting links, without whose aid the whole noble structure -must be incomplete. - -No one can tell, while the process of constructing and perfecting is -going on, through what deep and stormy waters the precious bark, once -launched, may be compelled to force its way. Therefore it is wise, in -laying the foundations, to be sure that no timber, screw, or rivet, -however insignificant it may seem at the time, has been discarded or -insecurely fastened. - -Even if it could be guaranteed that most of the young ladies who -graduate from our excellent seminaries would never be placed in a -position where they might find it convenient, if not necessary, to -labor to secure home comforts, or prepare food for husband or children, -yet there is no place free from care, where it would not be more -conducive to comfort and happiness for the mistress, not only to know -thoroughly what was proper to be done about the house, but also to know -how to do it herself, should it ever be necessary. To know how to do it -well will do no harm; _not_ knowing how may sometimes subject one to -great discomfort and mortification. - -We once called on a lady of great wealth. Her establishment and -style of living demanded a large retinue of servants, who received -the highest wages. There had just been some disturbance among her -servants. The cook, receiving forty dollars a month, imagined that her -subordinate in the kitchen did not render her the proper assistance. -She, the sub-cook, was quite above such service as was exacted. Neither -would yield, and both left. The waitress, laundress, and nurse had -been nursing a feud for some time, which only needed this explosion -in the kitchen and the atmosphere it engendered to develop the final -catastrophe. The noise and smoke of the battle had but just subsided -when we rang the bell, which was answered by the lady herself with a -laughing, happy face, in no wise ruffled by this unusual state of -things. After our errand was done, she was led by it to tell us a merry -story of the day’s experience. - -“And what will you do now?” - -“O, I have sent my dressing-maid to the nursery, sent the seamstress to -look for others to replace the deserters, and the coachman to market. -I will attend the door till they return, and then I mean to surprise -my husband on his return with a dinner of my own cooking. Mother used -to let me _play cook_ sometimes when I was young. She thought every -girl should at least know how to get a dinner. I learned a good deal -then which I think I have not forgotten, and I owe it to her that this -little disturbance, the first I have had, doesn’t trouble me at all.” - -To be sure, those who keep but one or two servants will think that -she had but little to disturb her while a dressing-maid, seamstress, -and coachman were on hand. But we think those who keep the greatest -number of servants are the most to be pitied, and when changes come it -requires much patience and some skill to rearrange those who remain, if -one extra step is demanded of them. - -We know two little girls whose mother is training them to meet such -inconvenient changes when they are women, in the same independent -spirit. They have a large-sized _toy cooking-stove_, but one in which -they can make _real pies_, as the little ladies say, and real bread -and real cake can be made on it, though of lilliputian size. The stove -is kept in mother’s room, the pipe passing into the nursery flue. They -have a little molding-board and rolling-pin, and all needed implements -on a small scale, and no richer reward can be given than to be allowed -to bake a cake, or something of their own making, to be placed on -the family table. Of course they work under mother’s eye and by her -instructions, and in later years these little girls will thank their -mother for this early teaching. - -This _playing cook_ is an easy and pleasant way of teaching little -girls the first lessons, and if, as in other days, they were fully -taught at home the very important accomplishment of housekeeping by -their mothers, there would be no necessity for a union of domestic -and intellectual institutions in our schools and seminaries; but, -unfortunately, very few, comparatively, of the mothers of the present -day have health to teach their daughters as thoroughly as would be -satisfactory or available; or, if health be given, the disposition to -devote their time and attention to the matter is wanting. For this -reason we see no better way than to have this part of our girls’ -education incorporated, if possible, with the other branches taught -in schools and colleges, so that sewing, sweeping, washing, and -cooking--all minutiæ of household knowledge--may be as fully taught -as reading, writing, or the so-called higher studies; or, if this -union is not possible, at least the domestic education might be made -a supplementary course,--the scholars understanding that no one can -“graduate” until she has passed through that department. - -We fear the good old times of mother-teaching will not very soon -be revived, and our idea of uniting this important part of woman’s -education with that which is thought higher and more intellectual arose -from the impression that, if not in some way instructed in home duties, -our girls in the course of four or five years of sedentary life would -acquire a distaste for more active employment, or, having destroyed -their health by injurious and long-continued application, would be -utterly incapacitated for it. - -We offer these suggestions in the hope that the attention of some -of our progressive spirits may be called to this subject with more -effective earnestness than has been shown. - - - - -XLVI. - -GREAT MISTAKES. - - -WHEN the weather becomes so warm that furnaces and large fires can be -dispensed with, the regular “spring cleaning” is usually commenced in -earnest. Until then, the most perfect housekeeper cannot prevent the -accumulation of ashes or fine dust, which, ascending from the furnace -or stove below with each morning’s renewal, will find a lodgment in -carpets and furniture, and can be fully removed only by a longer -process than can be given weekly. Were it not that the carpets and -furniture would be utterly ruined by the insensible deposit of dust -and ashes in the winter, and by flies, spiders, damps, and mold of -the summer, which by fall have been too much for the most vigilant -care, the great domestic terror over which gentlemen so pathetically -lament--a general “house-cleaning”--could easily be dispensed with. -Without those special troubles, we could get along, by good management, -with but very little general disturbance of the regular routine of -household cares, and no derangement of family comfort but what the most -fastidious could patiently and cheerfully submit to. - -The last touch to the perfect purification of the house, in the -estimation of many notable housekeepers, is to have the fireplace or -grate brightly polished, and the bricks on the back and sides either -whitewashed or painted (slate, drab, or some neutral color), and this -once satisfactorily accomplished, they are very sensitive if any wish -is expressed to have a fire kindled again before fall, preferring to -risk fevers or any of the malarial troubles so likely to result from -damp or cool nights and mornings, rather than see their clean, nicely -painted grates blackened by the action of fire. - -Now, we cannot but think this is a great mistake. So much sickness and -suffering may, we are convinced, be prevented by kindling a small fire -every night and morning, that all pleasure in the beauty of fresh, -pretty-colored grates and fireplaces is lost in the knowledge of the -price paid for it. A well _blackened_ grate has more attractions for -us, as it speaks of dry rooms, rosy cheeks, and good health, whereas -unused and spotless bricks tell of rheumatism, chills and fever, and -pale, sallow faces. - -We first learned the great importance of these morning and evening -fires at the West, and should have been thankful to have learned it by -an easier way than through the rough school of experience. What was -a good theory and better practice in the new Western life is equally -beneficial in any locality where cool nights and mornings precede and -follow each day, or where sudden changes from dry to damp or rainy -weather may be expected. It is not at all necessary or wise in warm -weather to build large fires that will heat a room. Only so much is -needed as will suffice to dispel the chill damp of the atmosphere, of -which one is usually conscious on entering a room early in the morning -or soon after nightfall. A few sticks of light wood or a small fagot of -brush will suffice. In the city it is not always easy to find material -for this purpose; but in the country, whether in an old place or new, -there is no difficulty, and no excuse for neglect. Small sticks, and -any quantity of brush, from constantly needed repairs or pruning, are -always scattered about, which, if not daily gathered up, will soon -accumulate, till heaps of unsightly rubbish will meet the eye at every -turn. If only for the sake of neatness, and to _save time_, all this -should be daily removed. It is not much labor, and a very short time is -sufficient. If you have young boys or girls with you, rightly trained -to be useful, an hour or two of outdoor labor will give them pleasant -and healthful occupation. Provide them with a child’s saw-horse and -saw, a small, light hatchet, and a ball of strings, and let them daily -go out and collect such brush as may be lying around. Show them how to -cut it in proper lengths, and to tie the fagots neatly. Then they can -easily, with a light wheelbarrow, take them to the wood-house or shed, -and pile them ready for use. A half-hour’s or an hour’s work every day -will do this, and the young folks will not feel it a burden. But if -left a week or two, the brush becomes tangled, the heap grows larger, -and what should be only pleasant recreation becomes a burden, perhaps -really too heavy for children to undertake, and either a man’s time -must be given to the work, or industry and labor be made repulsive -to the young. That is also a great mistake. But by having this work -regularly done, at certain hours daily, by your children, a threefold -good may be gained: the house, grounds, and surroundings can be kept -free from disagreeable litter; the means secured at the same time, -with little labor and no cost, to preserve a healthful atmosphere all -through the house; and your children taught a lesson in neatness and -industry which they will not in after years forget, and which, whatever -their position in life, will always be valuable. - -While among the pines and palmettos in the newly settled parts of -Florida, we looked with envious eyes on the “fat wood,” as it is -called, which lies around the clearings in the greatest abundance. A -few small sticks from these pine knots, at the first touch of a match, -start into a wonderfully bright flame, before which, while it lasts, -the light of our best kerosene lamps is obscured, and the morning and -evening dampness is expelled, so that comfortable but not heated air -is secured. We were pleased to see in these brilliant fires, regularly -kindled, strong proof of good common-sense. - -We believe full half the sickness which abounds in newly settled -countries or in malarial districts could be entirely prevented by this -easy, simple practice. At any rate, it would certainly be quite as -effectual as the innumerable and abominable doses which each section -of country accepts as the only cure; and it would have the advantage -of being a pleasant remedy, warranted not to produce some disease far -worse than the first. - -Another great mistake is the exclusion of sunlight from our houses. -We have spoken of this some time since, and wish the importance of -admitting the light of the sun freely, as well as building these early -and late fires, could be properly impressed upon our housekeepers. -No article of furniture should ever be brought to our homes too good -or too delicate for the sun to see all day long. His presence should -never be excluded, except when so bright as to be uncomfortable to -the eyes. And a walk in good, bright sunlight, before the heat is too -intense, is very beneficial, so that the eyes are protected by veil or -parasol when the light is inconveniently strong. A _sun-bath_ is of -far more importance in preserving a healthful condition of the body -than is generally understood. A sun-bath costs nothing, and that is a -misfortune, for people are deluded with the idea that those things only -can be good or useful which cost money. But remember that pure water, -fresh air, sunlight, and homes kept free from dampness, will secure you -from many heavy bills of the doctors, and give you health and vigor, -which no money can procure. It is a well-established fact that people -who live much in the sun are usually stronger and more healthy than -those whose occupations deprive them of sunlight. - - - - -XLVII. - -STUDY TO MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE. - - -IN planning and furnishing a house, young people too often sacrifice -true taste and their own conscience for _style_; forgetting that they -should arrange a home for _comfort_, not for a temple of fashion. -So large a portion of the money set apart for the whole outlay is -expended in adorning their parlors,--the only part of a house which -is, in a measure, public property,--that they are compelled to cheat -themselves out of much comfort and convenience, when they come to the -furnishing of the real home, or family rooms, unless possessed of -wealth so abundant that expense becomes a secondary consideration. We -think the family sitting and dining rooms should receive more thought -and care than any other part of the house. Neatness, of course, should -be preserved everywhere, and the parlors be furnished with as much of -style and fashion as your means will warrant your expending to meet -your own desires, or in deference to public opinion, if you are at -all inclined to cater to its gratification. In your chambers study -neatness and convenience, and also in the kitchen; but when you turn -to the sitting and dining rooms, give yourself abundance of time to -deliberate over everything connected with these apartments, and, after -due consideration, begin the work, which, if rightly understood, will -be a toil of pleasure,--a labor of love, never ending; because every -week some pretty device or fanciful change or addition will occur to -you, by which you can add to its simple attractions, thereby giving -yourself great pleasure, and filling your heart with happy thoughts. -From the tone of the letter and question prompting this chapter, we -should not class its writer with those who desire a position among -the “fashionables,” whose greatest pleasure lies in parties, balls, -and theaters, or a ceaseless round of “calls,” and who would be made -perfectly miserable if compelled by any circumstance to pass a quiet -evening at home, with _nobody but their husband_. For such there is no -_home_. That word belongs to an unknown tongue, which their hearts can -never interpret. - -We are not at all in sympathy with those who take it for granted that -the husband is always the most to be blamed, if the club house or any -outside companionship has more attractions than his own home. When the -“twain are made one flesh,” if the union is consummated through love, -and not from mercenary reasons, the heart of the husband will be drawn -most naturally, in his leisure hours, toward the companion he has -chosen from all others; and in these early days it rests chiefly with -her to make all the surroundings of the home committed to her care so -attractive that his steps turn thitherward, because nowhere else can -he secure such true comfort and solid happiness. Having so begun, if -you continue thus to cast your spells about him, here in this pleasant -sitting-room, young wife, he will always prefer to spend his leisure -hours where your skill and taste make it more bright and restful than -any other resort can be. Now, in the earliest days of your wedded -life, before other cares engross your time and thoughts, you have the -opportunity to make _home_ a word of sacred meaning, to learn its true -nature yourself, and to gather around it associations that shall be -lasting, and a safeguard through life. - -It is not by the “great sacrifices,” or “heroic devotion,” which -you speak of, that this blessing can be secured; but by _little -things_--daily acts--the work must be begun and the building -established on a firm foundation. Bear this in mind constantly while -planning the room, selecting the furniture, and arranging the many -trifles that, combined, make a sitting-room peculiarly attractive. -Secure, if possible, a southern or eastern lookout, or both united. -Select pictures that are homelike, even if not the elaborate work of -some great artist; those do not always give the greatest pleasure. -Flowers and vines about the room or in the windows add wonderfully -to the cheerfulness of any room, and to this particularly. Have -neat, white shades to exclude the sun partially during the mid-day -hours, and outside blinds to keep curiosity from sharing your evening -enjoyments. A book and piano are always desirable in a family room, -even if you have a _grand piano_ for your parlors. Select the easiest -and most comfortable lounges and chairs, taking time to look in several -manufactories before you decide; for hard, unyielding sofas and chairs -are only fit for show or torture rooms. A commodious table for books, -and gas or lamps, suitable for writing, with convenient drawers to hold -all necessary writing-material, and your own work-stand in the corner, -are essential. These are always useful and convenient; but it is not -needful that we go into elaborate specifications. Your own taste and -love, if you set about the work in the right spirit, will teach you -better than any one else can do. Arrange the necessary articles and -all the embellishments with care and thought, so that when you stand -at the door and survey the work, the room shall lie before you like a -picture, speaking of cheerfulness, rest, and comfort. Here, if you show -your husband, from the first, that you are always interested in his -outside labors and duties, he will gladly come to talk over the day’s -doings; and it will not take long to teach him that a good, true wife -is the best adviser he can have,--that his business knowledge and your -womanly insight and tact, united, will solve dubious questions, and -unravel troublesome tangles, quite as safely and far more pleasantly -than any assistance and advice sought outside of _home_. And in after -life, think you, will it not be pleasant to look back and trace much of -your happiness to the fascinations and attractions you so skillfully -gathered about the pleasant sitting-room, when you, as “young people,” -took sweet counsel together, and laid the foundation for mutual -confidence and true domestic peace? Had you secured the most elegant -parlors, but left this room cold and barren, negligently kept, and -destitute of any special attraction, do you think your prospects of -happiness would have been as bright? Or can you feel that you would -deserve that they should be? It is your work, young wife, to make the -_home_. Your husband may provide and furnish the means, but it is for -you to see that they are used for mutual happiness. - -Next to the sitting-room, the dining-room must be the most carefully -arranged. Strange how few give heed to this! It is sometimes a low, -dark, ill-constructed room, reached by stairs often unsafe by reason -of darkness, and usually opening so abruptly to the kitchen that the -appetite is destroyed the moment you enter by the fumes from cooking -which have been gathering in the dining-room all the morning; and the -pleasant intercourse which should enliven each meal is often sadly -interrupted by overmuch talking from the adjacent kitchen. If there -ever is dispute or misfortune there, it seems always destined to occur -while you are at your table. Our city dining rooms are too frequently -after this pattern. Here is some excuse; for we must expect, in one way -or another, to be “cabined, cribbed, and confined” in the city; but in -the free, bright country, there can seldom be any such excuse given, -and yet the same heedlessness with regard to anything pleasant in the -position of the dining-room is noticeable. Opening into a back yard or -clothes-yard, or overlooking the barn-yard, with nothing attractive -or cheerful,--this is thought good enough for a place to _feed in_. A -very great mistake; for here we should meet, not to eat hastily, and -rise up and go our ways, but there should be quite as much enjoyment in -free and cheerful conversation at the table as can possibly be secured -during the mere act of eating. A friend occasionally drops in; and when -children are gathered about the board, their little winning ways and -delightful prattle add wonderfully to the pleasure of the repast. Our -American men, when actively engaged in business, as a large proportion -of them are, often find the breakfast and dinner hours the only parts -of the day when they can see their children. It is time little folks -were asleep, generally, before the father closes his labors and returns -home for tea. For that reason, if for no other, the dining-room, in -every family, as being the place where, except on Sunday, the children -will have the best opportunity of seeing their father, should be made -bright, cheerful, and peculiarly attractive; because it will be more -closely associated in their minds with his presence. As they grow -older, they should be taught to give their aid in arranging fruit and -flowers for the decoration of the table and side-board before each -meal, “because papa will soon be here.” - -You may think these are all such _little things_, that you cannot -conceive it possible they should be of much importance in arranging a -house, or making home happy, and will probably feel that your question -has been unsatisfactorily answered. But, dear “young wife,” believe -me, it is by little things that you must make the house, now committed -to your charge, a happy one, and so attractive to your husband that -he can have no wish to seek pleasure elsewhere. It is not by any -great effort once in a while, but by the constant, daily evidence of -your thoughtfulness and care, that you will secure the confidence and -companionship you are so earnestly desiring and seeking after. - - - - -XLVIII. - -THE CARE OF COOKING-STOVES AND RANGES. - - -NEXT to perplexities and trouble with servants, there is nothing that -so severely afflicts the careful housekeeper as the attempt to secure -attention to the cooking-stove or range. The reasons given for failure -in any particular point are innumerable, and all cast the burden of -blame on the poor, inoffensive stove. There never was such a miserable -cooking-stove. The fire won’t burn, or it burns too fiercely; the oven -won’t bake at all, or bakes so furiously that everything you trust to -it is ruined. It smokes, or the gas escapes, and fills the house with -the offensive odors; it burns out more coal in one day than should be -used in two; the dampers are useless, or the grate cannot be turned -over. There is scarcely a defect to be imagined but is charged to this -necessary evil,--the cooking-stove or range. - -In part, no doubt, these ceaseless annoyances spring from the -heedlessness or ignorance of the servants, but more frequently, we -think, it is because the mistress herself does not understand the -cause of the difficulty, or how to point out and remedy the mistakes. -It is impossible to expect a girl will be successful in managing -the fire and stove unless you are competent and willing to give her -full instruction, and are also ready to follow this up with constant -daily supervision, until time and a faithful trial convince you that -the subject is fully understood, and your injunctions regularly -followed. Even then _watch_, with all kindness and patience, not with -a fault-finding spirit, but because carelessness and forgetfulness -are bound up in the heart of almost every servant, and ceaseless -vigilance is your only protection from mistakes of the most mortifying -and vexatious character; and do you not know that such trials always -come at the most unexpected and inconvenient time? No doubt there are -occasionally servants found, or heard of, who are faithful, careful, -competent, and safe to be trusted in every particular; but they are, -“like angels’ visits, few and far between”; and it is wise for every -housekeeper to be as exact in her explanations, and as watchful in -seeing them executed, as if she knew her girl was totally ignorant of -everything about the stove or range, until well convinced that she -fully understands and regularly carries out her mistress’s lessons. -Then, if she fails, it is safe to look upon the failure as culpable -negligence, for which it would be very difficult to find a reasonable -excuse. - -Simply _telling_ a servant how you wish the stove managed, or anything -else done, is by no means sufficient. To say to the new cook, “Bridget, -I wish you to be very particular in cleaning out your range or stove -every night before retiring, and have your kindlings and coal all laid -ready to start a fire in the morning,” will not secure obedience. The -answer will doubtless be, “O yes, mem, I always do that.” Perhaps once -in a great while you may find a cook that will do this regularly; for -it certainly, if they will only try it, is the easiest way. But take -nothing on trust. See with your own eyes before you retire how much -this _always_ means. Too often it should be translated, “when it suits -my convenience.” Perhaps for a short time it may be done in accordance -with your wishes; but keep open eyes, or nine times out of ten, in less -than a month, you will be told, “I can’t do anything with the range or -stove.” “Have you thoroughly cleaned it out each night as I directed?” -“O yes, mem; of course I have.” Now, either go to work yourself and -see what is the matter, which is the best way, or send for a man from -a stove manufactory to examine. Stand by _with the cook_ to see the -results of his examination. Of course the fire must be all out before -he can do anything. He will then remove every cover from the top, and -most likely find the whole surface perfectly clogged up with small bits -of coal and piles of ashes, so that the draught is obstructed; or, if -the difficulty does not lie there mainly, he will take out the slide to -the pit under the oven, and, notwithstanding cook’s assurances that it -is regularly cleaned out, you will find it filled with ashes up to the -oven bottom; or the grate has been so imperfectly emptied and cleaned -that it is broken, and clogged with _clinkers_, leaving hardly room -to make a fire in it. Now you have the whole mystery solved. All the -girl’s protestations and assurances of great care in keeping the stove -in perfect order cannot longer blind your eyes. A few such examples -may not insure cook’s future attention and truthfulness, but they will -teach you, that as the _foot of the master_ is the only warrant for -large crops on a farm, or successful operations in any pursuit, so the -_eye and hand_ of the mistress must ever be most vigilant and effective -to secure comfort in the house. - -There is no one convenience on which so large a part of house comfort -depends as on a good cooking-apparatus, whether in the form of stove -or range; and however perfect the patent, nothing can so easily be -put out of working order by careless management. Before starting a -new fire, examine if the stove has been thoroughly cleaned from the -last one; then open the dampers; roll up and put into the grate a few -pieces of paper,--or some shavings, if you can have them, are still -better; lay lightly on this some splinters or small bits of kindling -wood. Do not throw them on in a heavy mass, but so arrange them as -to give free breathing-holes; on this foundation put a few larger -pieces of pine kindling, and if you are hurried, and need a quick, -bright fire, sprinkle over a small shovelful of _coke_, if you have -it. Nothing kindles quicker than coke. Now replace all the covers, -and set fire to the paper with a match, held underneath the grate. -If lighted from above, it must be, of course, before the covers are -put on, and that fills the kitchen with smoke. When the wood is well -blazing, before at all wasted, take off the covers and cross-piece (the -paper will have burned out by that time, and little smoke will trouble -you), and pour on the hard coal, scattering it evenly at the sides, -but a little heaped or rounded in the center. Be careful that the -grate is not _filled_ ABOVE _the fire-brick_. This is a very important -consideration, for if heaped above, it injures the stove, burning out -the iron-work, and obstructing the draught, so that the coal cannot -kindle readily, but wastes and smolders without doing much good. As -soon as the coal is well kindled, close the draughts, or dampers, and -you will have a clear, serviceable fire. It is a great mistake to use -a large amount of paper or kindling. The paper, when burnt out, makes -a smothering, black kind of ashes, that deadens the fire, and the -pine kindling, if used too profusely, fills the stove with so much -bituminous smoke as to clog the pipes needlessly. - -When your breakfast is dished and sent to the table, tell the cook to -raise a cover from the stove, and see if it would not be well to add -a small shovelful of coal to keep the fire in good working order; but -it will not be necessary to open the draughts until the breakfast is -over and the dishes washed and put away. When that is done, it will be -time to begin arrangements for dinner, and then the draughts should -be opened a few minutes, and the fire raked down or shaken, so as to -remove all the ashes; but _on no account stir it from the top_; that -kills the fire, turning the coals black. The ashes being removed, lift -off the two front covers and the cross-piece once more; pour on more -coal, always remembering not to fill above the fire-brick. The object -in lifting off both covers and cross-bar, instead of pouring in the -coal at one hole, and pushing it across with the poker, as most girls -do, is to prevent the coal from scattering and lodging on the plate of -the stove, under the side covers. If this is done, the coal remaining -there prevents the heat from having a free circulation; therefore every -time the coal is added, even if both covers are removed, giving a free -opening to pour on what fuel is needed, it is best to pass the poker -under the side-holes, and see that the upper plate is free from coal -and ashes. - -We have written these simple directions at the request of a “very young -housekeeper,” who assures us that there are hundreds “longing for just -such instruction, who, fearing to expose their ignorance, are keeping -silent, subjecting themselves to all sorts of mistakes, which make -their husbands cross, and set themselves almost crazy.” - -We regret that any should feel ashamed to ask questions on household -matters, however simple. To answer them, if in our power, is pleasure, -and the questions are a great encouragement; for we often think we -have exhausted all that need be said, when some word from the “young -housekeepers” remind us of points which we have overlooked. - - - - -XLIX. - -THE OLD WAYS AND THE NEW. - - -IT is interesting to note the changes and improvements which have been -made within the last half-century in almost all the conveniences and -implements which are needed in the preparation of food. It may be that -the ease and comfort by which this labor can be performed, through -these new contrivances, when compared with the old ways, and the -facility with which all classes, rich or poor, can and do secure all -or some of these conveniences, has tempted to an indulgence in luxuries -regardless of economy or health. Perhaps the firm health and longevity -so common among our forefathers were in some degree owing to their -more simple diet; but also very largely, we think, to their healthful -activity and industry, and to the _early to bed, early to rise_ habits -which their active life demanded. - -But, as the present generation have acquired extravagant tastes with -regard to food, as well as in dress, there certainly is cause for -gratitude that great improvements in the machinery by which such -work can be performed have kept pace with the cultivated taste that -demands so much more skill to gratify it. We doubt, however, if any -modern improvement can ever set before us food that will have the rare -excellence, the exquisite flavor, of that which used to come from our -mother’s great brick oven. Ah, the bread,--the rich-colored brown -bread; the creamy-white bread; the pies, puddings, and cakes! - - “’Twere worth ten years of modern life, - One glance at that array!” - -We have yet to see the device which can compensate for the loss of the -old brick oven! - -But wishing will not restore it to us who live in cities or large -towns, unless we can bring back the old primeval forests, and, instead -of the “coal-bins,” possess again the old-fashioned wood-houses with -their rich stores of seasoned wood, piled high to the rafters; and the -huge piles of green wood in the yard, waiting for the leisure days to -be cut, split, and housed; or we must emigrate to the unsettled parts -of the West and South, which are still rich in splendid woodland, where -the settlers are cutting down the grand old forests, or wastefully -burning them. In their present haste to clear the land, they forget -their own future interest and the comfort of their children, who, by -this waste and destruction, will be denied the luxury of wood fires, -and compelled to content themselves with coal, and all the annoyances -and discomfort connected with its habitual use. Coal is excellent for -the cook-stove; but it is a great sacrifice when none but the rich can -afford wood fires, in their family room at least. - -It may be difficult for the first occupants of wild lands to save -the great wealth of fuel, while hastening to open up their farms. -But it seems to us that it would be wise to preserve larger tracts -of woodland on any new farm or home-steads, as a provision for the -future; remembering that any ten acres thoroughly cultivated will bring -more abundant and better paying crops than thirty cleared but poorly -cultivated; _poorly_, because the owner uses the time in cutting down -the wood on the extra twenty acres which should have been given to -the careful cultivation of the ten. When we have been at the West and -South, at various times, it has been a source of continual regret to -see that which our large towns and cities so greatly need recklessly -given to the flames, knowing that the time cannot be far distant when -these young towns will feel the need of this fuel as much as their -elders. We cannot help thinking while we ride through the burning -forests, that even a woman could manage so that the forests could be -more largely preserved, and the trees which must fall be saved and -made useful and profitable; while the comfort and prosperity of the -possessor could be much increased by the economy, because the farm -would be brought under more careful culture, and thus sooner return -paying crops. - -But the thought of the well-beloved brick oven has led us into the -wilderness, and away from our subject. - -We were noticing the great difference between the ancient and modern -manner of cooking. Many of our readers remember and have often used the -brick ovens, the large old-fashioned fireplace, the long crane, the -pot-hooks and trammel on it, and the great pots and kettles suspended -by them over the fierce fire,--the immense “roaster,” the “Dutch oven,” -the Johnny-cake baked on the “Bannock-board” before the glowing bed of -coals, while bright rows of apples were sputtering on the hearth. But -all these names are to your children like words in an unknown tongue. -They will never know the rich flavors gained only by this mode of -cooking; neither will they endure the pains and penalties by which this -knowledge was obtained. What would those tyrants of our households, -the modern cooks, say if compelled to swelter over the blazing fire, -or roast with the meats they are cooking upon the fiery coals on the -hearth? - -Some years since we were presented with one of Stewart’s stoves, which -proved so satisfactory that we never expected, and hardly desired, -anything better; and when, a few years later, we were persuaded to put -the “Peerless” in its place, although always very ready to try anything -new that promises to lighten or simplify the kitchen work, we confess -that it was with much reluctance that we consented to make the change, -being in no wise inclined to believe that it could at all compete with -our old and well-tried friend, the Stewart’s. But the stove proved -itself worthy of its name. “Peerless” it certainly has been, and in all -respects given us more comfort than any stove or range we have ever -used, baking equally in every part of the oven, and using much less -coal even than the Stewart’s. It is made by Pratt and Wentworth, of -Boston. - -We well remember when cook-stoves and ranges were first brought into -common use, and how positive the good housekeepers were that nothing -decent could be prepared with these strange contrivances. But only a -few days were needed to work a complete conversion. Since then, almost -every year brings before the public some new range or cook-stove, or -marked improvements on the old. By and by we expect to see stoves and -ranges arranged for the use of gas, instead of coal, for cooking; and -if a better quality of gas than that which has tormented us for the -last few years can be furnished, we imagine any such invention will -bring us nearer to the perfection of cooking arrangements than has ever -been reached. To be free from smoke, and the dust and vexation of coal -and ashes, will indeed be a consummation most devoutly to be wished. - -But until gas can be thus used in the kitchen, housekeepers have reason -to be well satisfied with the many excellent ranges and stoves now in -general use. - - - - -L. - -A FEW HINTS ON CARVING. - - -IT is a great accomplishment to be able to _carve_ well and easily, -without awkwardness; but it is one that receives altogether too little -attention. Too often it would seem that the host or hostess, or whoever -is called upon to perform this table duty, has no idea of there being -anything needed but to hack off in the most expeditious manner as much -meat as is required to satisfy the wants of those present, without the -slightest reference to the mode in which it should be done, or the -choice bits to be secured by careful carving. We have seen those who -in every other respect were true gentlemen and ladies, carve poultry -or a piece of meat in such a barbarous manner as to banish all desire -to eat, and almost the ability to taste the big, uncouth, mangled lump -that was put, or rather thrown, on the plate. To cut off a thick, -rough piece from any part that the knife happens to light upon first, -aside from being untidy and unpalatable, is also very wasteful. After -two or three such careless cuttings, the whole piece is so defaced and -uneven, that it is no longer possible to secure a decent looking bit: -and the bone is left with much adhering to it, in ragged morsels, which -dry and become worthless if left over to the next day, but which, had -the joint been properly carved, could have been sent to the table for a -cold relish for tea, in a neat and attractive form. - -Our ladies are seldom good carvers, and do not often attempt it. Few -have been taught, or thought it worth while to try and learn; but -in early times it was considered an indispensable part of a girl’s -education. The want of such knowledge often leaves one in an unpleasant -and embarrassing position; for to every one there occasionally comes -a time when the gentleman of the family must be absent, and the lady -must do the carving, or ask a guest or stranger, who may be even more -awkward than herself. - -To stand up while carving is not as proper or skillful a way of -doing the work as to be seated; but it is sometimes easier and more -convenient, and, if the table be at all crowded, less troublesome to -guests. In such cases it is quite allowable. - -The carving-knife must be sharp and thin. A large, broad-bladed knife -is needed for meats; a long, narrow, and sharp-pointed blade for -poultry and game; both should be kept in perfect order, and always -ready for use. - -When dished, poultry or game must be laid on its back, the breast -uppermost, for the greater convenience of the carver, who should put -the fork into the breast, holding the bird firmly, until he has taken -off the wings and legs, cut out the merry thought, or wish-bone; cut -nice, even slices from the breast, and removed the collar-bone. A -skillful carver will do all this without once turning the fowl over. -Next cut off the side-bone, and cut down the back, dividing the carcass -in two. Separate the drumstick from the second joint, and in helping a -lady, if she prefer the wing, cut it in two parts that she may handle -it more conveniently. - -A ham, or a leg of lamb or mutton, should be first cut in the middle, -clean down to the bone, passing the knife all round. Then cut thin, -even slices from the upper or thicker part, separating each slice from -the bone at the bottom, carefully, without tearing it. Some slices can -also be cut from the lower part of the leg or ham, which are just as -good as the upper part; but after a little you come to the cords or -fibers, and then the remainder of the lower part should be set aside to -cut out all the little bits for a relish at tea, or, in ham, to chop up -as seasoning or with other kinds of meat for hash. By cutting meat in -this way, much may be saved. Good carving is good economy. - -The middle portion of boiled tongue is the best, and should be first -served to guests. The tip is fit only for hashes. It should always be -cut crosswise, never lengthwise. - -When dishing a sirloin, place it on the platter with the tenderloin -underneath, and carve thin slices lengthwise from the side next to you; -then turn the piece over, and carve the tenderloin carefully, cutting -across the piece, serving equally from both parts. - -In carving a fore-quarter of lamb, divide the shoulders from the ribs; -then separate the ribs. The fore-quarter of pork and mutton should -be carved in the same way. When carving the hind-quarter, cut neatly -between the ribs to the joint, which must then be carefully separated, -so as not to bring a jagged, mangled piece to the plate. To do this -you will be obliged to charge your butcher particularly to _crack_ the -joints, not only of the hind, but also of the fore-quarter. He has the -implements to do it more expertly than you can, and unless this is -well done, it is quite impossible to carve the ribs neatly. Serve a -bit of the kidney and the fat to each guest if agreeable. Some do not -relish the kidney, and could eat with more relish if it were not on -their plate, and for this reason it is safest to ask each one before -helping. - -In carving a fillet of veal, begin at the top to cut, serving a portion -of the dressing to each guest. When carving the breast of veal, cut the -upper portion of the brisket, or that part of the breast that lies next -to the ribs, separately, and in helping, inquire what part is preferred. - -Some like to send a young pig whole to the table, with a lemon or bunch -of parsley put into the mouth. We think it much nicer to take off the -head, and cut the pig in halves or quarters, before sending it to the -table, and then carve it. It would be very unpleasant to many to see -such a revolting caricature of a live pig brought before them. But each -one must judge for himself. - - - - -LI. - -PARENTAL EXAMPLE. - - -PARENTS may give “line upon line and precept upon precept,” in their -assiduous watchfulness over the manners and morals of their children, -yet, if they do not constantly bear in mind that example has more -influence over the young than precept, their efforts will be of little -avail. If you reprove a child for careless usage of books, show them -how they are injured and defaced, by turning down corners, scribbling -on the margin, or throwing them down on the face, how much good will -such lectures do, if, when he enters your library, or comes where -you have been reading, the child sees your books tossed about, the -bindings strained, and the corners in a most undesirable condition? - -You endeavor to inculcate a habit of neatness in your daughter; you -insist that when she returns from a walk or ride she shall smooth out -her bonnet-strings, brush the dust from it, and put it at once in the -bonnet-box; you tell her to fold her shawl neatly, hang up her sack, -pull the fingers of her gloves straight, fold them up and lay them in -their appropriate place; and this you request her to do, not once or -twice, but habitually, not only because it is tidy, but also a great -saving of time and garments in the course of a year. But if you come -in, and toss your street garments about in the most careless manner, -how much good, think you, will all your words of instruction have -accomplished? You may enforce obedience, but compulsory habits are -not usually abiding; and, when old enough to cast off restraint, it -will be, not so much the _words you have spoken_, as the things your -child has _seen you do habitually_, which will influence and guide her -womanhood. - -You resolutely object to your children using low phrases,--what is -termed _slang_; but if your own conversation is largely interspersed -with foolish or needless ejaculations, fight against it as you may, -you will find it impossible to prevent them from copying your mode of -speaking, and it will be very strange if they do not carry it to a much -greater extent than you have done. - -Nowhere is this force of example so strikingly exemplified as at the -table. It is always disagreeable to see a child sitting with its arms -on the table, or resting its elbow there while carrying the food to its -mouth. There is some excuse for the little ones, as their short limbs -grow weary, and the position, though a very awkward one, seems to them -a rest from the restraint of the table; and no doubt it is so. It is -exceedingly annoying to see children filling their mouths too full, -and then washing the food down by drinking, before the food is half -masticated. If a child reaches over another’s plate for some article -of food, instead of politely asking for it, who can help feeling -disturbed by the rudeness? It is disagreeable to all present to see any -one stand upon the round of the chair, or on the floor, and _spring_ -after a piece of bread or meat, or push a dish across the table instead -of handing it. You shrink from the child who helps itself to butter -with the knife from its own plate. All this is annoying in children, -but it is intolerable when practiced by the parents. They are as much -disgusted as any “lookers-on” can be, when they notice such rude, -ill-mannered actions in their children; but while they severely blame -these young things, they forget that these are always watching and -imitating their parents’ faults. - -We have seen those who were in most respects truly refined, whose great -anxiety seemed to be to guard their children from any contact with -rude associates, and to teach them as much refinement of manner and -character as was possible; and in most things we have observed that -such parents most scrupulously and conscientiously conformed to their -own instructions; but when we have had a seat at their table, we have -sometimes been amazed to observe that they felt themselves exonerated -from the observance of the simplest forms of table etiquette, yet held -their children in strict bondage to such rules, and made the hours -spent at what should be the social, cheerful board very uncomfortable -by continued reproofs. - -“John, take your arms off the table.” The child raises his eyes to -his father, and sees one arm laid on the table before him, the other -supporting his head, with the elbow on the table, while administering -this reproof. - -“James, how often must I tell you to ask for what you want, and not -reach for it across the table?” - -A few minutes after, James sees his reprover reaching to the full -stretch of his arm, supplemented by the _fork from his own plate_, and -pick up a potato, piece of bread, or meat, at the farther end of the -table. - -“O child, will you never learn to eat without smacking your lips and -making such a disagreeable noise? It makes one sick to hear you!” - -The child has been watching the parent while eating, and trying hard to -imitate the genuine _gourmand’s smack_ which he hears from the head of -the table. - -“I am astonished! Why do you take the bread from the plate with your -fingers and toss it in that manner to your sister? Never let me see you -guilty of such rudeness again!” - -Now, children are quick to see mistakes and discrepancies in the -conduct of their elders, or those who have the rule over them. It does -not require many years for them to mark how inconsistent such training -is. Naturally children are not very fond of rules and regulations; they -like freedom of action as well as their elders; and if they see that -what is called rude and ill-mannered in a child is the daily practice -of those whom they are expected to look up to, is it strange that -they take every possible opportunity to transgress these precepts, -so strangely nullified by parental example? They are always reaching -forward to something beyond their present condition. If father or -mother does such and such things, which are denied to the young son -or daughter, of course they long for the same privilege; because if -their parents do thus, it must be something smart, the imitation of -which brings them nearer to manhood and womanhood, and farther from -childhood, from which latter period all children are eager to hasten -away. Then, if this is so,--and we think every observing parent has -found it to be true,--is it not important that the rules which are laid -down to secure good morals and good manners in the children should be -considered of sufficient importance to regulate the practice of the -parents; and should not the deviations from them, on the part of the -elders, be few,--or, better yet, none? - - - - -LII. - -TRUE TASTE MORE EFFECTIVE THAN MONEY. - - -MANY imagine they must relinquish all hopes of gratifying their -tastes, or the inherent love of the beautiful, if they do not rank -among the rich. This is an entirely false idea. There are houses upon -which thousands of dollars have been expended, that would be quite -intolerable to people of real refinement as a permanent residence. The -whole arrangement and furniture are so stiff and formal, so heavy and -oppressive with superfluous ornament, that simple curiosity to see what -strange vagaries can enter into the heads of the rich, and in what -absurd manner they study to spend their abundant wealth, would seem to -be the only motive which could tempt a sensible person to enter. - -On the other hand we find small, modest cottages, which bear -unmistakable evidence of the necessity of close economy, which have far -more of real comfort and convenience about them than those splendid -mansions, and at the same time they are _gems_, bearing in every part -the stamp of true elegance and refinement. They are so beautified by -the genuine taste and ingenuity of the occupants, that it is real -pleasure to pass from one room to another, or sit quietly and enjoy -the sweet enchantment; yet money had little to do toward securing such -attractions. It is the fitness of things, the harmonious blending -of shape and color, the adaptation of the furniture to the wants -of each apartment, that make the whole combination so peculiarly -delightful. And yet, how and from what was all this tasteful furnishing -constructed? If some of those persons, whose dark and gloomy parlors -are hung with the costliest damask, and their furniture carved and -upholstered by the most skillful and fashionable workmen, should, by -chance, find themselves in one of these pleasant homes, they could -not help being captivated by the spirit of the place, in spite of the -absence of style or fashion. The elegant, airy, graceful parlors, the -rest, the peace and comfort which pervade the whole atmosphere, would -be to them a new experience; and what would be their astonishment to -learn with how little expense all this, which they acknowledge to be so -refreshing, has been secured! - -No matter if the purse is not very heavy, young people, with good -health and a fair share of taste and ingenuity, have great pleasure -in store for themselves, when they undertake together to furnish and -beautify a house, which is to be their home. There are so many small -conveniences, so many little contrivances, that a carpenter never -thinks of, because he has never had woman’s work to do, and therefore -cannot see how important these little things are. A woman should know -just where an hour’s work, well considered and planned, can be employed -to manufacture some convenient thing, that will save much time and -strength, and which, however cheaply and roughly made, she can, in a -few spare moments, transform into an object of real beauty. - -“Harper’s Bazaar,” always full of suggestions, often describes the way -of making useful articles beautiful ones. The pictures and explanations -are very easily understood, and each one who attempts to profit by -these suggestions can elaborate or modify as her skill, time, or -means may allow. There is no end to the variety and improvement that -will grow out of each successive trial; and certainly no end to the -pleasure that one can enjoy in seeing such trophies of taste spring -up within and around a new home. A few yards of bright blue, pink, or -green paper muslin, with an overskirt of cheap Nottingham lace, dotted -muslin, or an old lawn dress, can soon transform a rough half-circle -or square piece of board into a pretty washstand or dressing-table. -Old broom-handles make good legs for the stands; and a part of the -length of the handle, not needed, or some smaller stick, answers nicely -for the rounds or braces. The husband can easily bore the holes in -the top, into which the legs may be fastened, and also for the braces -necessary to keep the table firm; an old piece of cloth does nicely -for the under-cover; an old hoop-skirt nailed around the edge of the -top, before the wadding and upper cover are put on, is excellent to -make the outside skirt hang in a proper manner, or the grandmother’s -old-fashioned wire fire-fender, which for years has lain rusting in -your mother’s garret, is admirable for that purpose. Then, with the -bright, delicately colored paper muslin, and the white lace or lawn -overskirt, or cover, you have, with trifling expense, as pretty a -toilet-table or washstand as any one need desire. Underneath the hoops -or fender you may have a convenient repository for work-basket or -boxes, if your house is not well supplied with closets. - -“Sleepy Hollows,” sewing-chairs or easy-chairs made from old hogsheads -or barrels, and pretty lounges from long packing-boxes, are, we think, -among the articles the “Bazar” has sometimes mentioned,--giving -pictures and explanations of the manner in which the roughest and -hardest work may be executed. From these directions, any one with -tolerable skill can gather the first ideas, and then proceed to make -the articles, modifying the shape to suit their own fancy. - -Pretty ottomans or stools covered to match the furniture of the room -are a great convenience, and help to give a genteel, stylish air. If -skillfully made and dressed, who could imagine that they are formed -from well-cleaned and scoured soap-boxes or butter-tubs, with castors -screwed to the bottom, and a cover with hinges on the top, thus serving -a double purpose,--making a pleasant seat, easily rolled to any part -of the room, and a convenient box or trunk for holding work-bundles, -papers, or your boots and slippers. - -We never regret the loss of youth and strength so much, or are so near -being envious, as when we see young people studying how ingeniously -they can arrange a small cottage, and give it the air of beauty and -elegance their natures so much crave. They will not find half the -pleasure in enjoying it, all perfected, as they would have had in -planning and executing; and yet how many throw aside such enjoyment, -and turn this pleasant labor into drudgery, not willingly cultivating -all the talents God has bestowed upon them, but repining because they -cannot afford to employ an upholsterer to furnish what their own skill -might have executed perhaps far more satisfactorily. - -We will follow these suggestions no further, but hope some of our young -housekeepers may be led to improve the hints, in a manner that shall -make them converts to the ideas advanced. - - - - -LIII. - -COOKING BY STEAM. - - -MUCH has been said of the superiority of steamed food over that which -is boiled or baked; and year after year the papers or magazines -devoted to domestic economy and the improvement and simplification of -household labor have advocated this mode of cooking meats, vegetables, -and many other articles of food, every few months recommending some -new invention. We have tried one experiment after another, finding, to -be sure, some imperfection in all; but enough that was practicable to -convince us there was much which was desirable in the idea; and, if -able to do the work with our own hands, confident we could reap great -advantage from it. - -When the mistress of a family has not strength to do her cooking -herself, or that part of it which requires more than ordinary judgment -and skill, she is not situated so that new modes of work can be tried -with much prospect of success. Most servants, particularly the cooks, -when accustomed to one mode of work, are very reluctant to change; and, -therefore, if the mistress is not able to make all experiments herself, -she will soon find, unless fully prepared to have the autocrat of the -kitchen abdicate without “giving notice,” that it is safest, and wisest -often, to allow a tolerably good girl to move on in the “even tenor of -her ways,” without attempting any changes, except those which she can -bring about quietly and imperceptibly. This is no very easy lesson for -an old housekeeper to learn; but repeated defeats must teach her that -patience, as well as discretion, is a “better part of valor.” - -In the last century, an American, Benjamin Thompson, made Count Rumford -by the Elector of Bavaria for distinguished military and scientific -services, gave much time and thought to the study of heat and -experiments in cooking, being the inventor of the present style of coal -fireplaces and grates, cooking ranges, etc. He was the first person -on record, with any pretensions to learning and philosophy, who ever -studied the dressing of meat for food as a science. The result was the -invention of a boiler for cooking by steam. Within a short time another -boiler has been perfected involving the same principles, but containing -various improvements over the steamer of the last century, which has -been named “Rumford’s Boiler” in compliment to the original inventor. -We have been trying it. - -Our cook was positive she could never use _that thing_. It was -troublesome, took up too much room on the stove, etc. Bless the girl! -That is one of the excellences of _that thing_. Little else in the way -of utensils is needed on the top of the stove, beside one of these -boilers. We stipulated that she should use it two weeks, and if found -troublesome, it should share the fate of many other inventions, and no -more be said about it. But long before the two weeks expired it had won -Mary’s heart entirely, and now she would sooner part with anything else -from her kitchen than the “Rumford Boiler.” - -One peculiarity of this most excellent boiler is, that unlike all -others we have ever seen, neither _steam_ nor _water_ comes in actual -contact with the article to be cooked. Two inches of water is put into -the bottom of the boiler. Then a large receiver, into which meat, fowl, -or fish is put to be cooked, is fitted on tight over the boiling water, -and shut off from all possibility of being touched by steam or water -by a close-fitting cover. Above this two other pans, or boilers, for -vegetables, custards, etc., can be fitted with tight cover also; and -the whole boiler, which is about as large but higher than an ordinary -wash-boiler, is also closely covered. Very little fuel will keep the -water boiling hot when once it has reached that point, as no heat can -escape by evaporation. It is not generally understood, or at least it -is not borne in mind with sufficient care, that “after water is _just -boiling_, all the fuel which is needed to make it boil _violently_ -is just so much wasted, without in the smallest degree expediting or -shortening the process of cooking. It is by the _heat_, its _intensity_ -and the time of its duration, not by the _boiling_ or _bubbling_ up of -the water, that the food is cooked.” - -In this “Rumford Boiler” the water can be kept at the boiling point -with no more fuel than need be used to keep two quarts of water at that -temperature. It is the most economical and comfortable arrangement for -summer use, and at the same time equally desirable for the winter. -Meat cooked in it not only retains all its juice, but also nearly all -its original weight, losing about one ounce to a pound; by the regular -process of baking, meats lose over four ounces to a pound. - -The uniform heat of the boiling water cooks whatever is put into the -boiler equally all the way through; no meat, vegetable, or any other -article can be scorched. It would seem impossible for the poorest -cook to spoil a dinner, so long as she does not let the fire go out -or remove the boiler from the stove. Meats require no basting, and in -that respect much time and labor can be saved; and the fire once fairly -burning can be kept low as soon as the water has reached the boiling -point, and no more care of a coal fire is needed till the dinner is -ready. - -Meat, fish, and vegetables may all be cooked at the same time in this -boiler; for being placed in separate receivers with closely fitting -covers, no taste can possibly pass from one kind of food to another. -Meat thus steamed or cooked is much more juicy, tender, and easy of -digestion than when prepared in any other way we know of. No danger -of burning, scorching, or overcooking. If left in much longer than -is needed, it is not injured by it; for, as no water or steam can -reach it, it is only kept hot in its own juices, without the sodden, -disagreeable look and taste of meat that has remained too long in -boiling water or a perforated steamer; and, what is even as great a -recommendation as the excellent flavor of the food, the house is not -filled with smoke and smell of cooking. - -Besides, if properly cooked, there is no waste,--all is eatable and -palatable; even the tip of the wings from birds and poultry, which in -baking are dried up and perfectly worthless, are delicious, for there -is no sweeter meat than wings, when not dried past use. In steaming all -is tender and juicy. When we steam beef, mutton, game, or poultry, we -take them from the steamer, dredge over a little flour, and put into -the oven about fifteen minutes,--not long enough to dry, but simply -brown delicately,--and think it an improvement. - -We have also found, by experiments, that we can do many more things -with this boiler than we were promised, and with the most gratifying -results. We put bread, cake, and pies into it, cover close, and leave -them till done; then set them in the oven long enough to secure the -rich, golden brown; and now there are no more burnt upper or under -crusts, and no more uncooked bottom crust to our pastry. - - - - -LIV. - -VEGETABLES. - - -JUNE is the season when vegetables are most abundant and can be had in -the greatest variety. Among the numberless articles of food there is -nothing so conducive to health as good, fresh, and properly prepared -vegetables, and nothing which so easily deranges the whole system if -used stale, unripe, or badly cooked. Vegetables having so large a share -in our comfort, it is essential that housekeepers should understand how -to prepare every variety not only in the most attractive manner, but -also in the most healthful way that can be devised. - -In the city it is not easy, hardly possible, to procure fresh -vegetables. Those only who have a private team, and can send to -the adjacent market-gardens, can hope to have them; hence our city -housekeepers, who have never had the good fortune to live in the -country during the harvest season of vegetables, can hardly realize -the difference between peas, beans, corn, etc., which can be gathered -early, and eaten almost with the dew upon them, and such as are heaped -into market-wagons and brought from a distance, and exposed for hours -or days, if the sales are not rapid in our markets, to the air and -sun; made to retain the semblance of fresh vegetables by frequent -showers from the hose or watering-pot. Nothing so readily destroys -all the sweetness and the richest flavors of such articles as these -shower-baths; and although the purchaser may fully understand the whole -art of cooking, no skill can bring to our city tables such flavors and -richness as the farmers or the country gentleman should enjoy daily. It -is through carelessness or ignorance if they do not feast luxuriously -all summer. Of course, almost all kinds of vegetables can be cooked in -a great variety of ways; and as tastes differ widely, and what would -please one may be distasteful to another, by this variety every one may -be suited; yet there are some general rules that must always remain -fixed and immovable; and if not followed, no mode of cooking these -viands will be fully satisfactory. Some few items from the history of -some of our most common roots and vegetables may not be uninteresting, -before giving a review of the mode of preparing and cooking them. - -The _Potato_, now one of the most useful and nutritious of the esculent -roots, is a native of South America, and first found wild in Chili -and Peru, although it is often called _Irish_ potato, and supposed by -many to have been first found in Ireland. It was brought to England in -1586, and for a long time was eaten as a _fruit_, or made into pies -or puddings, and eaten with sauces and wines. It was so used through -the time of Queen Elizabeth. It was planted in Ireland by Sir Walter -Raleigh, on one of his estates in that country. After being planted and -partly grown, the little green balls, which follow the blossoms, were -supposed to be the fruit. Sir Walter had them cooked, but finding them -not at all palatable he concluded the crop was a failure, and, as might -be supposed, was not very strongly tempted by his first experiment -to try it again. But upon turning up the ground, to use for other -purposes, to his great satisfaction he found the food he had looked for -on the stalk hid in the earth, and of a most desirable character. - -After many experiments it was proved that thrice as large a crop of -potatoes as of any other root could be produced from an acre, and they -soon became the chief food of the Irish peasantry, and remain so to -this day. - -There is no end to the varieties of the potato that are being brought -before the public. New seedlings are announced every year; almost -every section has its own special seedling or favorite, which seems -excellent there, but deteriorates when planted in other parts; and -many kinds which were the best known years ago are now lost sight of -entirely. We have not since childhood been able to find the “rusty -coats” or “lady’s fingers,” but have never seen a potato that equalled -them; partly, no doubt, because one never carries the tastes of -childhood into mature age to perfection, but this is not altogether the -reason; they were, undoubtedly, very excellent potatoes. The “early -rose” is nearer to our idea of the “rusty coats” in flavor, but is not -like it in appearance, nor of so perfect a quality. - -The potato can be satisfactorily used in more ways than any other -edible root,--in bread, pastry, starch, puddings, pies, and salad; -boiled, baked, roasted, stewed, fried. It is said “they furnish flour -without a mill, and bread without an oven.” - -After potatoes are taken from the ground, and have been exposed -to the sun and air long enough to dry, the sooner they are placed -in a cool, dry cellar the better they will keep. Mrs. Haskill, in -her “Housekeeper’s Encyclopædia,” advises that all that are needed -for winter use should be packed in barrels, and a little _plaster_ -scattered over each layer, to absorb the moisture; such as are to be -kept for spring use she thinks should be buried in the ground, and a -little plaster be sprinkled over them; also, Mrs. Haskill claims that -this is a preventive against _rot_, but does not consider it sure. -Whether this is good doctrine, we leave for our scientific farmers. - -The _Sweet Potato_ is a tuberous root, very different from our common -potato. It is common in tropical climates, where it is much more -perfect than in our colder States. There are seldom but two kinds -brought to our markets, the red or purple rooted, and the white or -yellow rooted. Far South, the red grows to a large size, and is -sweeter and more nutritious than those raised at the North. The white -or yellow rooted grows more perfectly with us than the red. In New -Jersey they are largely raised, and of a good quality. Thirty years -ago, sweet potatoes were a luxury on any Northern table: now they -are in daily use when in season; but to find them in the greatest -perfection we must still go South for them. The young leaves and tender -shoots are sometimes boiled as _greens_, and are pronounced quite -wholesome. - -In California, sweet potatoes grow to an immense size, often weighing -four or five pounds, and sometimes eight or ten. - -The _Jerusalem Artichoke_ grows in clusters of tubers, something like -the potato. It is a native of Brazil. It was brought to England and was -much in use there before it was superseded by the common potato. It was -called the Canada potato, to distinguish it from the common kind, then -known as the Virginia potato. It is wholesome and nutritious, but not -dry and mealy. The plants are extremely productive and once started it -is difficult to eradicate them from the soil; they are said to be an -excellent food for horses and hogs. _Girasole_, not _Jerusalem_, should -be the term. That is the Italian name for _sunflower_, which this -artichoke resembles in many particulars, and to which it is in some -degree akin, but not at all to the _artichoke_ proper, which is a plant -brought from the Mediterranean. The flower-head before blossoming is -the part eaten, boiled plain and eaten with melted butter and pepper, -like spinach and other greens. The bottoms are also sometimes boiled in -milk and eaten, and sometimes pickled. The French fry them and use them -in various ways, sometimes raw as salads. - -The _Yam_ also resembles the common potato. It is extensively grown in -the East and West Indies, and in Africa and America. It is sweeter and -firmer than the potato, grows flat, about a foot long, and sometimes -divided like fingers. One variety, called the hinged yam, often grows -three feet long and weighs twenty or thirty pounds. When raw, like the -potato, the juice is acrid and not healthful, but boiling destroys all -harmful properties. A favorite dish is prepared from it in the tropics, -combined with grated cocoa-nut and the pulp of the banana. - - - - -LV. - -CABBAGE. - - -IN this chapter we have something to say of an old familiar friend, the -_Cabbage_, which for ages has been one of the most useful of all our -vegetables, being very productive, and, for many persons, nutritious -and healthful. It is found growing wild on the cliffs in many parts -of the southern coasts of England; but these do not very closely -resemble the large, vigorous vegetable we see on our farms and in our -gardens. There it is dwarfed, not weighing more than an ounce, with -a few feeble leaves. Even in this state it is sometimes gathered and -eaten for greens, but is not very tempting. Although thus found wild -on the southern British coast, the numerous kinds now under careful -cultivation, in almost all our large farms or market-gardens, are -the results of many experiments made by scientific and enterprising -agriculturists. It was also largely cultivated and improved in other -countries long before its use was understood in England. It was a -common product among the Romans, and although they were lawless -and ambitious in their inroads upon the surrounding nations, their -conquests, with all the attending evils, were conducive of many good -results; for wherever their armies went, they left behind new arts -and habits, tending toward a larger civilization than is commonly the -result of wars. Many fruits, roots, and vegetables, unknown in Spain, -Germany, and England, were brought by the conquering Romans into -general use among these nations. - -The Saxons used cabbage under the name of kale, and it is still so -called in Scotland. For a long time it was the only vegetable known -in that country, but there is no end to the kinds now in use, and the -varieties are multiplied yearly by the experiments and skill of the -producers. With some persons it is not easy of digestion when cooked, -but when cut up raw and used as a salad there is hardly anything more -wholesome or palatable than the cabbage. Some chemists assert that it -contains an oil which is injurious, unless, when cooking, the cabbage -is boiled in two waters. However that may be, we know that this -vegetable is far more delicate and tempting, if, after boiling about -half an hour, the water is poured off, and clear boiling water added, -in which the cabbage is cooked till done. With that precaution, aside -from being nicer, it is not half as liable to produce disagreeable -effects. - -The _Borecole_, or _kale_ proper, as now understood, differs from the -common cabbage in having long, curly, wrinkled leaves, more like the -original wild plant, only larger and of thicker growth, never forming -into a close, solid head. They are very hardy, and furnish most -excellent winter greens; and if the leaves and stalks are blanched, -are greatly improved and very delicate. These _kales_ are improved by -frost. The Scotch or German _kale_, or _cualis_ (curly greens), is -used in immense quantities in Britain. The buda and the Russian kale -are much less common. The buda is considered a great delicacy when -blanched; the sprouts, and not the heart, being the most desirable. We -have never seen it in our markets, but should think it might be brought -to great perfection in our country, and be a very desirable addition to -our numerous sorts of cabbage. The Coleya oil, so much in use in France -for lamps, is made from the seeds of one kind of _kale_, and we think -we have been told it is from the buda. - -The Portuguese cabbage, from Tranzuda, is extensively cultivated -abroad, and we see not why that also cannot be introduced here. It is -said to be peculiarly tender and delicate, and destitute of the coarse -rank taste of our common kinds. The heart is the preferable part; the -mid-rib or stalk being used after the green parts are cut off only as -greens. We wonder that some enterprising Yankee has not brought it into -our markets. - -The _Palm kale_ and the _Cow-cabbage_ are cultivated in Jersey, and -other of the Anglo-Norman isles, as food for cattle. The leaves of both -grow to a great height, from twelve to fifteen feet. It is the outer -leaf that is fed to the cattle; the heart of the bud is quite tender, -and when cooked is good and nutritious. - -The close-headed cabbage has many varieties,--the _white_ and the _red -drum-head_, _sugar-loaf_, _Savoy_, etc. These are raised from the seed, -and should be sowed the year before they are wanted, for large heads. -While young, or the first year, if cooked at all it is as greens, or -cabbage _coleworts_. Such as are not kept for growth the second year -are pulled up, root and all, and thus sent to market to keep them -from withering. The roots are cut off by the cook just before using. -Some, when the head is half formed, are gathered for summer cabbage; -but if left till fall the head becomes hard and firm, and late in the -season they are pulled up and stored, or buried in the ground. Such as -are needed for summer sprouts or coleworts are left in the ground all -winter, and are ready early, with the nice new shoots for the spring -market. - -The red cabbage makes a fine pickle, and is the kind most used by the -Germans for _sauerkraut_, though almost any variety will answer. The -dwarf red is much used abroad for stewing. - -The _Savoys_ have leaves much more curly than the other varieties, -and the middle part of their firm heads is excellent for boiling, and -particularly fine for _cole_, or cold slaw, or _kohl slaw_, as the -Germans term it. The dwarf and the yellow Savoy will stand the frost. -The Brussels sprouts are something like the Savoy, but grow often three -or four feet high. The sprouts form in little, delicate heads all the -way up. The top of the stalk is more solid, and it is that which is -like the Savoy. - -The _Cauliflower_ and _Broccoli_ are among the most desirable of -the cabbage tribe, and bring a higher price than any. The former is -probably a native of the island of Cyprus, and the broccoli is said -to have been introduced into Holland and England from Italy, in the -seventeenth century. They are quite similar in habit and taste, but the -broccoli will bear the frost and cold better than the cauliflower. Both -are very great favorites and very delicate. - -The leaves of all kinds of cabbage decay very early, and are then -exceedingly offensive. They should never be allowed to remain in the -cellar or lie about the house, as they are very injurious to the -health. The water in which cabbage is boiled is also offensive and -unhealthy, and should be poured into drains where it will the soonest -pass off. - -Our farmers often feed the outside leaves of cabbage to their cattle. -All very well if they do not give them to their _milch cows_. Many of -our dairymen will not believe that cabbage or turnips injure the flavor -of milk or butter, but we think their taste must be greatly perverted -if they fail to detect the flavor at once. - - - - -LVI. - -PULSE. - - -MANY of the most useful and important of farinaceous or mealy kinds of -vegetables are known under the name of _pulse_. All the large varieties -of the _bean_, _pea_, _lentil_, _tare_, and _vetch_ belong to this -family. - -The _Vetch_ and _Tare_ are chiefly used for cattle; very seldom in this -country or England are they seen on our tables, even among the poorest -class of people; but the _lentil_, a kind of bean, is greatly esteemed -among the French and Germans, and, when properly and carefully prepared -and seasoned, is more highly esteemed by them than the common pea and -bean. They consider the flavor better, and the vegetable itself more -nourishing. In France it is extensively used for seasoning soups, but -in England and America is not much known except as food for cattle. - -Next to nuts and fruits, all kinds of pulse were important articles of -food in the earlier ages, for it required little labor and skill to -produce or raise them. When fresh and tender, many kinds of pulse can -be employed in cooking, particularly for soups, and many that we know -nothing of except through books, would flourish in our climate, both -North and South, and might be profitably cultivated. Year by year we -find something new in our agricultural catalogues, as well as in the -horticultural and floral. - -_Peas_ and _Beans_ when dried are less digestible and healthful than -when eaten green, as the skin becomes hard, and unless removed, as it -can be by rubbing through a sieve for soups, will, with many people, -produce flatulency, constipation, and often severe colic. But green -or dried, almost every sort of pulse will furnish excellent food for -most of our domestic animals, and is also considered very desirable to -alternate with other crops, for, if corn or grain is raised year after -year, on the same piece of land, it will in a short time wear out the -soil; but pulse does not impoverish the land, and therefore may be -grown on fields that require rest from more exhausting crops. - -We learn that the time of the discovery of peas and beans has not been -satisfactorily ascertained, but they were in early times extensively -cultivated, especially the _pea_, in India, China and Japan, although -evidently not a native of any of the extreme warm climates. When the -English were besieging a castle in Lathian, in 1299, they were well -pleased to supply their exhausted stores with this kind of pulse, -which grew in that vicinity abundantly, and doubtless, on learning its -nutritious properties, gladly introduced it into their own country. -During Queen Elizabeth’s reign, her table was supplied with peas from -Holland; fit food, says one of the writers of that time, for royal -ladies, because “it was brought so far and cost so dear.” - -Now, under careful and more enlightened culture, the varieties of peas -raised in this country and throughout Europe are numerous. To speak -of them all and of the whole family of pulse would require a volume. -But much depends on the section in which the different varieties are -raised, for, as with most kinds of produce, that which in one locality -would prove most excellent, when transferred to another will become -quite inferior. - -The _Chick-pea_ is small and not very digestible. It will not boil -soft, but, like some of the lentils, is parched, and in Egypt and -Syria sold in the shops to travellers, by whom it is greatly esteemed, -because while passing through the deserts it occupies little room and -needs no preparation. Youmans says that it will sustain more life, -weight for weight, than any other kind of food, and that peas and -beans are ranked first among the concentrated, strength-imparting food; -but although strength-giving, we do not think it easily digested, -unless eaten while fresh and tender, and cooked with care. Some kinds -of peas are prepared by the Chinese as a _vegetable cheese_. - -It would be useless to attempt to mention the best varieties of either -peas or beans. Some seek for the earliest, some the largest or most -prolific. In selecting, it is always wise to go to some intelligent -seedsman, keeping a large assortment of all kinds of seeds, and learn -his opinion; then, from the information thus obtained, decide which -variety will best meet your wishes and locality. Some kinds of peas, -like the string bean, have the pod and seed cut up and cooked together. - -The _Turnip_ was introduced into England from Hanover. It now -grows wild in many parts of England, but the wild kind cannot, by -cultivating, be brought up to the excellency of our garden and farm -turnip. The turnip tops are brought into market for _greens_. The -medium-sized roots are better than the largest, which are liable to -become corky or spongy. - -The _Carrot_ was brought to England by Flemish refugees, during the -reign of Elizabeth, and the leaves were in great demand by her court -ladies as ornaments for the hair. The ladies of the present day are -not satisfied to use it for that purpose, but by putting a root into -a glass of water, and hanging in a window, in a few weeks they have -a pretty, graceful window ornament, as young leaves will start out -and form a green ball, very delightful to the eye in mid-winter. -Both turnips and carrots are largely used on the table, and are very -desirable to season soups or stews, or garnish fancy dishes. The carrot -makes a very good pie, and with a judicious use of eggs and cream can -be made quite palatable. When boiled and prepared for the table, the -young and tender roots should be selected, as when large or old they -become woody and fibrous. The carrot is excellent food for horses and -cows. Unlike the turnip, it imparts no unpleasant taste to the milk, -and is, therefore, very desirable for winter feed. The carrot contains -a much larger proportion of sugar than most of the esculent roots; a -large quantity of spirits can be distilled from it, and it is sometimes -used instead of malt for beer. - -The _Parsnip_ is also a native of Britain, and largely used, not only -for soups and garnishing dishes, but as a vegetable; or, dipped in a -batter of butter, flour, and white of eggs, it is fried a delicate -brown, and sent to the table as a side-dish. During Lent, it is much -eaten with fish. It is even sweeter than the carrot,--much too sweet -to please all tastes. Like the carrot, it is excellent in soups, and -is sometimes made into bread. A kind of wine, said to resemble the -Malmsley wine of Madeira, can be made from the parsnip. In Ireland, -they brew it with hops, and make what they consider an agreeable drink. -Parsnips and potatoes, in Scotland, are often beaten up with butter, -and a nice dish for children prepared from them. - -The varieties of the _Onion_ tribe are more widely spread over the -whole world than any other article of food. The _onion_, _leek_, -_chive_, _garlic_, and _shallot_ are the kinds in most universal use. -In Egypt and many parts of Africa, it is noted for its very delicate -taste, being less pungent and the odor less offensive than those raised -with us. Two thousand years before Christ, it had, in the estimation -of the Egyptians, some mysterious signification, and was worshipped by -them as possessing wonderful efficacy. The onion is much pleasanter -for food or seasoning in warm climates than with us. Those raised in -Spain, Portugal, and Strasburg are famous for their great delicacy. -They are everywhere used, cooked, raw, or made into salads. When eaten -raw the odor imparted to the breath is exceedingly disagreeable, and, -even cooked or prepared in salads, is not at all pleasant. It is said -that chewing a little raw parsley will remove this annoyance, or a few -kernels of roasted coffee, but we have never known anything but time -and abstinence that did remedy the evil. It is to be regretted that it -should be so, for they would otherwise be great favorites with all, and -are, no doubt, very wholesome. - -The _Leek_ is more used in Switzerland and Scotland,--indeed, in all -cold, mountainous regions, both on account of its being hardy, and -because its exceeding pungency is a recommendation in these cold -regions. It is a very important ingredient in two Scotch dishes that -were the noted favorites of King James I., the “Cock-a-leekie” and -“Haggis.” They claim in Wales and Scotland that the leek was brought to -them by St. David. The blanched stem is the best for soups and stews, -and is more esteemed in France than with us. - -The _Chive_ is a native of Britain and France. It is sometimes found -wild in the pastures, and, if eaten by cows, imparts a very offensive -taste to the milk. It is milder than the onion or leek. The leaves -are the part used for broths and soups, and in some kinds of omelets, -especially in France, it is thought to be indispensable. With us, it is -more frequently found in the dishes at restaurants and hotels than at -our private tables. - -The _Garlic_ is the most offensive of the onion tribe. It grows -naturally in Sicily and the South of France, and from there found its -way into Britain and America. It is very little used with us, but is -found at almost all tables in Italy, though the root is only boiled to -season soups and other dishes, and removed as soon as it has imparted a -sufficiently strong flavor. - -The _Shallot_ grows wild in Palestine, and was introduced into England -by the Crusaders. It is still more pungent in taste than the garlic, -but not as offensive. Used in pickles, soups, and made dishes. - -The _Rosambole_ is a native of Denmark. It partakes of the character of -both the garlic and the shallot, and is used in a similar manner. - - - - -LVII. - -POT-HERBS AND SALADS. - - -THE number of plants and vegetables that are of excellent quality, and -can be profitably cultivated for purposes of pot-herbs and salads, are -so numerous that we can only mention the names, with here and there an -item, that we may rouse the young housekeeper’s curiosity sufficiently -to tempt her to search for their full history herself and we hope lead -others to do the same. - -In Burr’s “Field and Garden Vegetables of America,” is a “full -description of nearly eleven hundred species and varieties, with -directions for propagation, culture, and use.” Among them are many -species and varieties which make excellent salads and greens. - -The _Leaf-beet_ is much esteemed. The leaf is used for greens. The rib, -which is called Swiss _chard_, is cut out, boiled, and dressed like -asparagus, which it resembles in taste. There are five varieties, of -which the silver-leaf is the best. - -Three varieties of the _Nightshade_--the white from East India, the -large-leafed China malabar, and the red malabar from China--furnish a -desirable addition to our pot-herbs. The juice from the fruit of the -red variety supplies a beautiful color, but is not permanent. The -black, or deadly nightshade, is poisonous. - -The _Nettle_, of which only one kind is mentioned, will grow anywhere -spontaneously, but is, in many places, largely cultivated, and is -excellent for greens. The young, tender buds or shoots are nipped off -as they appear, and will shoot out again very rapidly. By being put -into a green or forcing-house, it furnishes a good substitute for -cabbage, colewort, or winter spinach. If placed near a flue in the -hot-house in winter, it will supply excellent nettle-kale all through -the winter. Lawson says: “The merits of this generally accounted -troublesome plant have been quite overlooked. Aside from the food it -can supply, the stalk is quite fibrous, and may be made into ropes and -cordage and good thread; besides a white, beautiful linen-like cloth -can be manufactured from it, but it has never been cultivated for that -purpose. It is an Asiatic plant.” - -_Spinach_ is one of the most important of this class of edibles. It -grows wild in England. Flanders supplies us with some of the cultivated -kinds. The _orache_, or mountain spinach, is quite hardy and very good. -It is a native of Tartary, and was brought into England by Sir John -Banks. - -The _Quinoa_, a native of Mexico, is easily cultivated here. The leaves -are used like spinach. The seeds in some places are made to take the -place of corn or wheat for bread, and are excellent food for poultry. - -The English and Irish _Sea-beet_ are much liked in some places, and are -easily cultivated. - -The _Shepherd’s-purse_ tastes somewhat like cabbage, but is much -more delicate. That which is raised and marketed in Philadelphia is -wonderfully juicy, and the leaf grows quite large. - -Of the salad plants, _Celery_ stands among the first. It is a native of -England, and has many varieties, too numerous to mention here. - -_Lettuce_ is an Asiatic plant, and, like celery, is an important and -almost indispensable article in preparing chicken, lobster, or other -mixed salads. It is also eaten plain with simply salt or dressed with -vinegar, sugar, and oil; or, what is better still, a few drops of -vinegar, with sugar and rich cream. - -The _Endive_, a native of China and Japan, is largely cultivated in -America, and by many considered one of the best autumn, winter, and -early spring salads. - -_Corn-salad_, brought from the South of France and Europe, is sometimes -boiled or cooked like spinach; but usually the young leaves are dressed -for salad, and in winter and early spring are excellent. - -_Cress_, or pepper-grass, belongs to Persia, but is largely raised -here; eaten as a salad, either separately or mixed with lettuce or -celery. The varieties are quite numerous. - -_Horse-radish_ and _Mustard_ are from Europe. The young tips are -sometimes mixed with other greens, and their natural pungency adds -quite a pleasant flavor to less highly spiced pot-herbs. - -The _Nasturtium_ is from Peru. The seeds make a pickle almost equal to -the caper, and the young shoots furnish a fine, pungent salad; and in -all its many varieties it is a pretty garden ornament. - -The _Purslain_, _Rape_, and _Rocket_ are natives of Europe. - -The _Samphire_ is used as a seasoning for salads. _Tarragon_, from -Siberia, is also put in salads for seasoning, and much used steeped in -vinegar for dressings of various kinds. - -_Valeriana_, as a salad, is by some thought more desirable than -corn-salad, and is likewise a very beautiful garden ornament. - -All these and many more can be grown in our own country, and most of -them with very little trouble. Interesting statements respecting them -can be found in most of the agricultural books, which are well worth -reading. - - - - -LVIII. - -MISTAKES IN COOKING VEGETABLES. - - -FRESH vegetables, properly prepared, are among the most important -articles of food. They mostly abound in saline substances that are -indispensable to the maintenance of a healthy condition of the whole -system; but to secure the blessings they were designed to yield, -everything depends on their being freshly gathered and carefully cooked. - -It is very difficult to obtain freshly gathered vegetables when one -is obliged to depend on the city markets for them. In this, as in -many other things, our farmers, and those who can afford even a small -vegetable garden, have far more to be thankful for than those whose -home is in the city, and whose tastes and desires extend no farther; -for although to those who heartily relish the summer productions, stale -vegetables may be better than none, yet the use of them is always an -unsafe experiment, making easy victims for the many diseases incident -to the summer; whereas we imagine a reasonable prodigality in eating -most of the summer vegetables and fruits, when they can be had every -day fresh from the garden, is peculiarly conducive to the enjoyment of -sound health. - -Then, as regards the cooking of the many kinds of vegetables that are -desirable only when fresh, it must be remembered that many sorts have -a large proportion of woody tissues, which require a suitable degree -of heat by which they can be softened or decomposed before they may be -eaten with impunity. That done, and the acid which is found in almost -all esculent vegetables becomes an essential assistance to sound -digestion, as it tends to strengthen and give tone to the stomach. - -_Hard water_ is often recommended for cooking many kinds of vegetables, -but we know of none that are improved, and many that are injured by it. -Beans and peas, for instance, are injured by boiling in hard water, -whereas if soft water is used the skin softens, loses its huskiness, -and these delicate vegetables become highly nutritious. - -A little soda is used by many cooks in preparing vegetables; but it is -only when one is so unfortunate as to be unable to procure soft water -to cook with that we think it can be tolerated. To be sure, it secures -a fine green with some articles, such as peas and beans, and makes them -very tender, but this is gained at the expense of all sweetness and -natural flavor. - -A few rules for gathering and preparing vegetables in the country may -be given, which, if carefully observed, will secure their being brought -to the table in an excellent condition, and eaten without one murmur of -dissatisfaction. - -First, be sure that they were raised from the best of seed. It is -useless to expect good vegetables unless they spring from the most -perfect and best variety of seed. “Do men gather grapes of thorns or -figs of thistles?” Those who cultivate but a few acres simply for -family use, having learned the importance of choosing their seed with -care, are every year becoming more and more particular in their search -for the finest varieties. More depends on this than farmers have been -accustomed to think; but seeing what can be done by amateur gardeners -through care, and reading the success of other experiments, they are -giving much more attention to this than was customary in former years. -The result is, that there is no longer any excuse for having a poor -article brought either from your own garden or the market. It is the -length of time it has been gathered, and the manner in which it has -been prepared, that determines its excellence. - -All vegetables are injured by lying exposed to sun and rain; but corn, -peas, fresh beans, asparagus, and lettuce become perfectly worthless. -They should be gathered while the dew is yet on them, brought to the -house, and placed at once in a cool place where the sun will not strike -upon them. It is better to leave corn in the husk, peas and beans in -the pods, until it is time to prepare them for cooking. Then watch -that they are not left long in water, if, indeed, you cannot avoid -washing them entirely. Corn when taken from the husk needs no washing; -simply remove all the silk. If there is a black or rusty spot on an -ear of corn, reject it entirely; it shows the beginning of disease. It -improves a mess of peas, adding greatly to their sweetness, to boil -the _pods_, after shelling, about fifteen minutes in the water you are -about to boil the peas in. For this purpose, you must pour cold water -over the pods, to remove any dust or minute bugs that may be upon them; -wash quickly, and then leave them to drain before shelling. The peas, -of course, after this need no washing, neither do beans. Asparagus -should be washed quickly, to remove all dust; but must on no account be -left in the water a moment after it is clean. As soon as washed, put in -a cullender to drain, and then over the stove to cook as soon as you -can. All vegetables should be laid in the saucepan in which they are -to be cooked, with sufficient salt to season sprinkled over them; then -_boiling_ water poured on, and the whole brought to a boil immediately, -else they become of a brownish color and look very uninviting. The -salt, either put on them first or the water salted before they are put -in, prevents the color changing. Then boil, or, what is better, _steam_ -them for the proper time,--twenty minutes for asparagus, peas, and corn -is long enough, never over thirty minutes; when so old as to need -longer cooking, they are too old to use at all. Beans require longer -time, unless very young; from three quarters of an hour to an hour will -be necessary. - -Very few vegetables, comparatively, are as digestible raw as when -cooked; those used for salads, such as celery, lettuce, cabbage, -etc., are exceptions. Some which when raw are quite poisonous can, by -skillful boiling, be transformed into our most nutritious and easily -digested food; yet the attempt to cook them is too often made in -such a careless and reckless way that, although whatever poison they -contain when raw is dispelled, the mode of cooking makes them about as -injurious to the health as the poison could have been,--half raw or -overcooked till they are clammy or sodden, or cooked with salt and fat -meat until their whole nature seems changed,--requiring a stomach like -that of an ostrich to digest them. - -The _potato_, when raw, is not only unpalatable and injurious, but is -supposed to be really poisonous, while proper cooking changes it to one -of the most palatable and healthful of all vegetables. - -The _bitter cassava_ is so deadly when raw that the Indians use the -juice to poison their arrows; but when grated and pressed, to remove -the juice, it is subjected to a heat which destroys all that is unsafe, -and then we have the tapioca, so much prized for table use, and which -is regarded by many physicians as far more digestible for infants than -arrowroot; but the _sweet cassava_, from which bread is made, is, even -when raw, free from all harmful qualities. The _wake-robin_, from which -sago is made, is so poisonous that the juice will blister the hand; but -like the cassava, when roasted or boiled, is entirely free from all -injurious qualities, and is, after being thus cooked, made into sago. - -In many of our “cook-books” _mint_ is recommended for seasoning various -kinds of vegetables, but we do not believe a good vegetable can be -improved by anything that destroys the true natural taste. Peas may be -much improved, we think, by boiling the pods, after washing them in -clear soft water, about fifteen minutes; then strain the water from -the pods, bring it to a boil, add some salt to keep the peas green, -and use as much as is needed to boil the peas themselves in. It gives -them all the sweetness that the pod contains, which is sufficiently -near the flavor of the pea not to impart any unnatural taste. A little -cream may be added with the butter, pepper, and salt required to dress -them, although we think the little water that is needed to cook them -(and it should be _very little_) is far better. When we see a little -_mint_ advised to “give a fine flavor,” we have no objection to others -enjoying it, but confess we think it a perverted taste. - -Peas, beans, asparagus, corn, and potatoes should be either steamed -or cooked in as little water as can be used without burning them; and -to dress the first three, some of the water in which they are boiled -should be used; then, in helping them out, if any prefer them dry, it -is very easy to take them from the dish free from liquor. - -Another great mistake consists in allowing most kinds of vegetables -to cook too long. Some require much longer time to cook than others, -but all need careful watching. Beets, turnips, carrots, parsnips, -etc., need considerable cooking; but if you go beyond a certain point -they become watery or sodden, and lose half their excellence or are -completely ruined. Peas, corn, and potatoes should require but little -time to be cooked sufficiently. When young, peas and corn do not -require over fifteen or twenty minutes; as they become larger or attain -their full growth, thirty minutes may be needed; if more than that, -they are no longer fit to use, except for soups or meal. - -Peas, beans, asparagus, and lettuce are often injured by being washed -too much, or by being left soaking in water. Wash as little and as -quickly as possible; drain, then cover up the dish, and put them in a -cool place out of the sun till ready to cook. Lettuce, particularly, -will be far more crisp and tender if, after washing and picking it over -carefully, it is laid on ice till needed. - - - - -LIX. - -DIVIDED FAMILY GOVERNMENT. - - -“I HAVE a family of young children, naturally amiable and obedient, -who, while very young, seldom needed even slight punishment; but as -they grow older wants and wills are thickening, and, occasionally, -natural perversity and willfulness are manifested which sometimes -require restraint. The mother’s heart would shield her children from -such denials or demands as the father sees is necessary to their proper -education and future happiness. Her tenderness warps her judgment, and -too frequently her speech and action stand opposed to mine. Hence the -question must often arise, if she cannot control her words and feelings -in the presence of the children and servants, how far am I bound, in -view of the future well-being of our offspring, to push my authority, -and, as the father and head of the house, insist upon her yielding to -my judgment without such opposition; and if I am compelled peremptorily -to insist upon her silence, when I am attempting to control our -children, what is her duty?” - -These questions, which have been addressed to us, are full of interest; -and the answer, if given simply from the first impressions derived -from the perusal of the letter, without mature deliberation, would -seem comparatively easy. But a few moments’ careful reflection will -suffice to show that, looked at in all the various aspects necessary -to form a thoroughly correct judgment, it is a very intricate and -important subject, for which no one general rule can be made to meet -the necessities of all. The happiness of the family, as a whole, and -the future welfare of the children, require a united government; -but, unfortunately, we do not see it to any wide extent. Children, -who should be a bond of union, are too often the cause of dissension -and division. If the father is stern, arbitrary, and unreasonable in -dealing with the little ones, a judicious mother, who has suffered -for them and watched over them by day and by night from their birth, -naturally shrinks from the effects which severity or irritability must -have on their young and tender minds, knowing, in almost every case, -that gentleness and love will soften the heart and secure obedience, -while coldness and harshness will harden, and provoke rebellion. - -Or, perhaps, on the other hand, the father is loving and tender, yet -firm; fully aware that foolish and injudicious indulgence, although for -the present gratifying, will in the end work out, not the peaceable -fruits of righteousness, but, for the children, years of sin and -sorrow; for the parents, wretchedness, tribulation, and anguish. With -a father whose constant thought is to seek the best interest of his -children, even though it can be obtained only at the expense of some -self-denial, if the mother co-operates, the training of their family -will be a labor full of love and gladness. When both parents see eye to -eye, and seek God’s blessing on every step, they may rest assured that -their children, thus led in the way they should go, will, in mature -age, rise up and call them blessed. - -It is very strange that parents, with so many examples which should -on the one hand warn them against over-indulgence, and on the other -encourage them in the administration of all needed discipline, should -not learn to avoid disputes or discussion in the presence of their -families. When they so far forget their children’s best interests as -to wrangle and dispute whenever a case of discipline is necessary, -and allow children and servants to hear and see the whole, they not -only lose the respect of those who should naturally look to them for -guidance and help, but, more than all, they do lasting injury to those -whom they should protect and love. One or two specimens of divided -counsels and the mischief is done. Children are quick to observe; they -turn to the parent who they learn will be most ready to hide their -faults or overlook their short-comings for help to escape punishment, -or to secure the gratification of every childish whim; but they soon -learn to care little for either parent, for the selfish love of a child -who has lost respect and reverence for father or mother is of little -value. If the father commands and the mother, openly or privately, -cancels the injunction, or the mother permits an indulgence and the -father revokes the permission, the child will soon become angry and -stubborn; and even if not daring to utter reproach and insolence -openly, the spirit of bitterness and revolt is aroused. If parents were -seeking to destroy their children, they could scarcely find any means -so well calculated to accomplish the object. But the mischief does not -end here; the parents themselves become embittered by such dissensions. -Sometimes it leads to disputes and quarrels, and sometimes to -partisanship; and thus the child’s selfishness, jealousy, and mercenary -nature are cultivated. In such divided households better far are early -deaths than life and health for children that must otherwise grow up -under such malign influences. - -If parents cannot see alike, in matters of family government, then -they should agree between themselves on some compromise; but in the -presence of their children, these differences ought never to be -mentioned. Even if one parent is mistaken, it is better far to pass the -mistake by, unnoticed, than that a dispute should arise, or that the -other parent should interfere in the presence of servants or children. -In almost all such cases there is blame on both sides; but, right or -wrong, it is better that one should yield instantly and let the other -decide, for the time being, than to attempt to right the wrong in the -presence of any one, particularly in that of children. It is not hard -to do this; and, O parents! if you truly love each other, it should be -very sweet and easy kindly and unselfishly to discuss the matter under -consideration; but let the husband dismiss during the discussion all -idea of _authority_. It is an ugly word between husband and wife at all -times; and in the endeavor to settle a disputed point, if you seek for -any good results, keep it as far out of sight as possible. Go to your -wife in the same spirit that influenced you while wooing her, and speak -with the same tenderness; we think words thus spoken will be like oil -on the troubled waters, and bring you into closer and more harmonious -union than any _commands_ can do. - -But while settling any disputed point with regard to the management of -children, it should be constantly remembered by the father that, of -necessity, the mother must have more to do with their early years, and -can hardly fail to understand their peculiarities better than he can -do. It is only a few moments at a time that the father can spend with -them, while the mother must watch over them hourly, providing for all -their constantly recurring wants. To her belongs, naturally, the care -of their health and early habits; to her the watching and weariness in -times of sickness, and the harassing toil of nursing them through the -fretful period of convalescence, back to soundness and vigor. - -In the few hours the father’s business allows him to spend with his -family, he may be able to see the weak points more clearly than the -mother can do, who must be always with them. He may see plainly how, at -times, she weakly yields to their caprices, allowing herself to become -a slave to them, often because too weary to be firm. This is the time -when his love, tenderness, and sympathy for his wife, the mother of -his children, should be most earnestly manifested; when he can prove -which is the stronger, which better fitted to be the true head of the -house. These weaknesses, from whatever cause they spring, should not be -noticed before the little despots; when alone, the husband, with the -greatest kindness and gentleness, can show his wife how such indulgence -will lay the foundation for much present trouble, and perhaps for -a corrupt and disgraceful future. If she has good sense, and he, -with unselfish desire for the good of all, does not seek by arrogant -dictation to set himself above her, we can hardly imagine a wife and -mother who would not earnestly endeavor to make the necessity of such -appeals very unfrequent. - -But if the mother is frivolous and self-indulgent, too weak and -indolent to take up the cross of refusing childish, unreasonable -importunities, for the glory that shall crown her when, by her -firmness, her children have become noble men and women,--then, God help -her who can thus lay the ax to the root of all domestic happiness! -For the husband and father to push his authority or command silence -with the children at home, constantly exposed to such influences, can -do no good; it only increases the difficulty. We know of no better or -surer way to save the children than to remove them from home and a weak -mother’s cruel indulgence, and place them in some school where health -and morals may be carefully watched over, but one sufficiently strict -to save them from the evils of too great indulgence. This is a hard -task; but it has saved many children whose parents, either one or both, -were too foolishly tender or too cruelly indolent to control them, as -God has commanded, in their early years. - - - - -LX. - -HOW CAN WE SECURE GOOD SERVANTS? - - -MANY inquiries reach us, both from city and country, as to the best -and most certain way to secure, if not the best, at least tolerably -good servants. It is a question impossible to answer with any degree of -certainty. The very best managers, the kindest and most conscientious, -are no more sure of being suited than those who work without method, -and are not governed by the law of kindness. - -“Where shall we apply when searching for help?” is a question that is -asked very frequently, and is equally impossible to answer. Some say, -“Advertise.” The next will give you such a history of her trials from -advertising, as will most effectually frighten you from that mode of -help-seeking. But they will tell you to go to one intelligence office, -and, if that fails, refer you to the next best. Another will say, -as we should, that of all places an intelligence office is the most -disheartening and the least reliable of any. - -A lady in the country, with a large family, who is so happy as to -have two grown-up daughters for her chief assistants, is desirous of -“obtaining a raw German or English girl, hoping to be able to train her -to do general housework properly,” and inquires where she must apply -to obtain such a one, “right from the ship,” before a week or two of -idleness has taught her the “ways and the manners” of those who have -been in this country longer. - -We have very little experience with what are called “greenhorns,” or -girls right from the emigrant ships, though we doubt if they can be any -more ignorant or half so unmanageable as many of the girls who have -been in America for years. - -The emigrant ships which come to New York land their passengers at -Castle Garden. “The Labor Bureau of the Commissioners of Emigration” is -under the supervision of Eugene Casserly, and we are told by reliable -authority, that unless friends have secured employment for them before -they reach our shores, their names, if they come seeking work, are -registered in an intelligence office there. For any one proposing to -seek servants from among those just landed, it may be well to go to -that office, when these ships first land their passengers, and endeavor -to form as correct a judgment as is possible, before actual trial. We -are also told that some little conversation with the officers of the -ship will sometimes make the selection easier or more satisfactory. -During the tedious passage the officers have many opportunities of -seeing their passengers under circumstances that can, if they choose -to notice, enable them to form a reasonably correct idea of their -character and capacities; though we fear that officers on board -emigrant ships seldom give much heed to those under their care. - -_A reader_ inquires “if it would be safe for a young housekeeper to -attempt to train a ‘raw recruit,’ and, if so, from which of all the -countries whose people flock to our land we would advise her to seek -for a good, reliable servant.” - -It requires much patience and no small degree of skill to take a girl -from another country, whose whole life and associations have been -entirely different from our own, and bring her into a new life by -teaching her to forget all her early habits and modes of working. It is -a great and uncommon gift to be able to do this with patient kindness, -and yet with such authority as insures obedience. Success in such an -undertaking is a blessing both to the teacher and the pupil. Now and -then we find one who, under such teaching and benevolent guidance, has -fully repaid all the thought and care which has been bestowed upon her, -and who, by her fidelity and unwearied energy, has won the love and -grateful appreciation of all, and is looked upon as the good angel of -the family. But we regret to say such characters are rare; and though, -in some instances, the impatience and irritability of the mistress may -repress much of good which, under better auspices, might have been -developed, yet we do not believe as a general rule that the chief blame -should rest with the mistress. Not one in a hundred--and that we fear -is a high proportion--of all the Irish that come to our country can, by -any amount of care, patience, or indefatigable teaching, be transformed -into a neat, energetic, faithful, truth-telling servant; and as for -gratitude, once in a while you may find one who remembers your faithful -teaching, your kindness and care in times of sickness or trouble, who -cannot be turned from her fidelity and attachment to you; but for the -most part all this vanishes like the morning dew, at the first chance -for easier work or higher wages. - -The English and Scotch, as far as our observation goes, are more -inclined to make their employers’ interest their own. They labor as -faithfully, and watch with an eye to economy quite as earnestly, when -left in charge alone, as when the master and mistress are near them. Of -course there are exceptions to every rule; and we speak more from our -own experience than from what others say. - -The Swiss and Swedes are usually smart and capable; but their inability -to understand our language when they first come to us, makes their -instruction difficult and tedious, unless the mistress is well versed -in foreign languages. - -A good Welsh girl is one of the best,--usually neat, active, and quick -to learn; and as the pastors of the Welsh churches hold it a part of -their duty to exercise careful supervision over those under their -charge, that acts as a great safeguard. - -There are no better servants to be found than such as come from Canada -and Nova Scotia, _if_ one can secure such as bring from their own -country a genuinely good character. Naturally hardy and industrious, -they are not the kind of girls who begin by asking, “How many in the -family? How large is the washing? Have you stationary wash-tubs? What -privileges do you allow your girls?” But whatever they are told to do, -if within the compass of their ability, they do it more willingly and -cheerfully than most. But there are not a large number of the Swiss, -Swedish, Welsh, or Nova Scotia girls to be had, nor are all who come -to our country of the better sort; so that whichever way we turn for -domestic help, one is almost compelled to feel as if buying tickets in -a lottery. - - - - -LXI. - -THE GUEST-CHAMBER. - - -IT is the prevalent opinion among housekeepers that the guest-chamber, -or “spare room,” must, in every respect, be the best and most desirable -chamber in the house. We think this a mistaken idea. Of course the -room should be pleasant and inviting, furnished as tastefully and -with as many conveniences as can be afforded, without curtailing the -comfort and pleasures of the family, and with such regard to comfort -that a guest, on entering, may feel at once not only at home, but -as if surrounded with kindness and thoughtful care. All this can be -accomplished without appropriating the largest and most commodious room -for that purpose. The chambers most used, and, after the sitting-room, -most necessary to the comfort and happiness of the family, to whom the -house is _home_, and not a mere transient stopping-place, should be -the best ventilated, the largest, and most convenient. The mother’s -chamber and the nursery--if there must be two apartments, they should -be separated only by a door, that the mother’s care may be near at -hand--ought to be chosen with reference to the health and enjoyment -of those who are expected to occupy them for years. The “spare room” -should be a secondary consideration, for our guests are but temporary -residents of our rooms, to whom, indeed, must be given all the time -and attention that family cares will allow; while to the permanent -inmates the house is a resting-place from hard labor, a refuge from -outside care for some of the family, and to make it such to husband and -children, the housekeeper has a daily routine of duties which can be -wonderfully lightened by pleasant surroundings. And thus, for reasons -having a bearing on every member of the household, it seems to us very -desirable that more thought, care, and expense be given to secure a -pleasant outlook, a thorough ventilation, and attractive and convenient -furniture for the family rooms, than for the one set apart for those -who, however honored and beloved, can of necessity remain but a few -days. - -We would by no means leave the impression that a family should -selfishly retain their regular apartments when so many guests are -present that several rooms are needed. In times of large gatherings it -is very delightful to see each member of the household contribute some -part of his or her rights to the free and cordial entertainment of -friends. On such occasions, if they are not too frequent, it is quite -amusing and conducive to much sport and cheerfulness to meet in family -council and discuss the ways and means that may be employed to stretch -the house, so that twenty people can be comfortably lodged in a space -where usually eight or ten have only sufficient room. This, for a short -time, is no hardship,--it is like a picnic,--and every child, from -its earliest years, should be taught there is a pleasure in giving up -rights, whims, and fancies, connected with its own special apartments, -for the accommodation of others. The lesson is very easily taught, when -they see that this is only a temporary thing; knowing this, when the -pressure abates, they will return to their rooms better prepared to -estimate and appreciate the care and affection which has so pleasantly -consulted their taste and comfort in arranging the apartment which is -set aside for them. - -It is painful to glance into rooms in daily use, and see no indication -that a moment’s thought has ever been bestowed upon their adornment, -or to fill them with objects that, to the children’s eyes, will unite -grace and beauty with usefulness for the family’s every-day life. -“O, this will answer! It’s good enough _just for our own family_.” -But look into the guest-chamber, for which enough has been expended -to compel pinching in all that belongs to home and family comforts, -and all for the ostentatious display of hospitality! When you see -such incongruities and contrasts between the furnishing of the family -apartments and the “spare room,” you will find the same rule runs -through everything connected with the family. For every day use the -commonest kind of delf, with odd bits of broken or defaced china, -mismated cups and saucers, of every variety of color, and the food -carelessly prepared, and of the poorest and cheapest quality, showing -the same unwise disregard for family comfort. But let a visitor -appear, and the table is dazzling with silver and cut-glass, and loaded -with dainties over which the utmost skill in cooking has been expended. -This is all wrong. _Home_ should be first, company of secondary -importance. Let your family always have the best you can reasonably -afford; then cordially welcome your friends to share the good and -pleasant things with you. It is not easy to teach children to love -home, and prefer its society to all others, if they see that all the -good and pleasant and beautiful things you possess are only to be used -when you have visitors. You have no right to hope that your children -will have good manners or be refined, if they see only the coarsest of -everything when alone with you, but are called upon, with company, to -put on company manners. Love of home, refinement, and good manners are -blessings that will rust out and be destroyed, if not brightened by -constant daily use. - -But we have wandered out of the guest-chamber, and will now return. -Because we urge that the family apartments should have the first claim, -we would not be understood that no thought should be given to the room -your friends will occupy; we only claim that it should not be paramount -to all others. Select the furniture with such care and taste as your -means will allow. It is not necessary that one should be rich to do -this in the most perfect manner. Be sure that the bed is comfortably -made, and at all times scrupulously clean. If used only for _one_ night -by _one_ person, all the linen should be changed for every new-comer. -A white spread, even if not of the best and heaviest, is always an -improvement for any bed. Have a spare blanket neatly folded and laid -across the foot of the bed, unless you have a closet in the room; -then it is a protection from dust to put it there. A low easy-chair -or rocker is always desirable, for a lady friend may bring a young -infant with her; then, if in accordance with, your ability, furnish -easy-chairs or a lounge, but no bedchamber should be crowded with -furniture. - -A table with a drawer, or small neat writing-desk, with an inkstand, a -few pens, paper, and envelopes, are desirable, as friends often come -unexpectedly, and neglect to bring the needed articles. To find such -conveniences ready at hand will be taken as a kindly attention, which -is among the little things that make a guest-chamber homelike. - -A brush and comb, a cushion and pins, should be kept on every bureau, -and the “spare room” is no exception to this rule. In this room one or -two bureau drawers should be left open for the use of guests. The comb -and brush, like those in other chambers, should be washed every week if -used, or after every new occupant. A few drops of ammonia, put into a -little soap and water, will cleanse a brush easily; rinse well in clear -water, and stand it up to dry. For the washstand, good soap, plenty of -towels, and a nail-brush should be provided. The water-pitcher must be -kept filled; a water-bottle, with a glass turned over it, or a decanter -with a stopper, is better for drinking water than a pitcher, as water -left exposed to the air in a sleeping-room soon becomes impure and -unwholesome. A slop pail or jar is needed by the side of the washstand, -unless the wash-basins are set to be filled from the pipes, and emptied -by the waste-pipe. A match-box, filled, is always an important article -in every room, and a little basket or cornucopia is needed to hang by -the glass, into which the hair from the comb and burnt matches may be -put. This should be emptied when the slops are taken away; but hair -must never be thrown in the sink, as it clogs the pipes; always burn it. - -Of course, when there is no necessity for close economy, there are -a thousand elegances with which it is perfectly proper to beautify, -not only the family rooms, but the guest-chamber; but the things -here specified are convenient and some really necessary for all -sleeping-rooms, and can be procured or made by home ingenuity. Beautify -and enrich the guest-room as lavishly as good taste and your ability -will allow, only let the family chamber be not neglected for that -purpose. - - - - -LXII. - -THE CARE OF INFANTS. - - -“ARE our little ones so related to household cares, that Mrs. Beecher -will give young mothers, now and then, a few words of instruction on -the management of infants? I am a young _mother_ as well as _young -housekeeper_, and although not very competent, I, and probably many -others, could easier work our way unaided to a respectable standing -in all that pertains to the manual labor of the household, than risk -mistakes in the care and training of our babies. I think the little -ones very necessary to the formation of a true household, and am ready -to accept any care and annoyance, if I may only be certain that I am -not giving my strength for naught, but so that in these early days -I may be enabled to ward off illness, and keep my baby healthy and -vigorous. It is usually happy and quiet; but there are times when -mind and body are taxed to the utmost limit of my endurance. It often -has _spells_ of crying, when no skill which I possess can soothe the -disturbance, whatever may be the cause, or lull the little one to -sleep. In no way, either by medical advice or the exercise of my own -judgment, can I discover the cause, or find any indication which would -show the child to be unhealthy.” - -We most certainly consider the little ones very peculiarly a part of -“The Household” department, and will cheerfully give any assistance to -young mothers that is within our power. We have before this been called -upon to answer similar questions, and see no reason to change the -answers we have felt to be correct. - -Young mothers are frequently told, we think very unwisely, “You have no -cause for anxiety. Most infants either have their crying spells until -they are three months old, or are very quiet and serene up to that -period, and then change and cry, and are restless most of the time till -some months later.” Believing this, the young mother tries to possess -her soul in patience, and struggles on, waiting for the good time -coming. But we think there is always some definite cause for a trouble -which robs the mother for months of a large portion of the pleasure -her infant should bring her, and makes the new world into which the -little pilgrim has just entered so truly “a vale of tears.” The cause -once ascertained, there must be some remedy found, through the large -experience of so many mothers who have been harassed and perplexed by -similar trials. - -Often kind friends manifest their affection and interest injudiciously -through their anxiety to see the new-comer, when both mother and child -would be much safer for a few days of perfect, uninterrupted quiet. -In the early days when an infant should be forming the habit of long -naps, and at regular times, and when the mother should be kept from -any excitement, these friendly calls begin, and each caller has great -curiosity _just_ to look at the new baby, or _just_ to wake it one -moment to see whose eyes it has borrowed. This incense offered to -maternal pride is too mighty, and the mother’s judgment bows down -before it. If she allows this foolish innovation once, she must twice, -and soon a restless habit is formed, and short naps and long cries -may be expected. It takes but two or three such friendly visits in -the course of one day, to excite the child so that sleep becomes -impossible; and then, although it is not needing food, when all other -means fail to quiet it, what more natural than to put it to the breast? -But broken rest and nursing too frequently will assuredly cause pain, -and crying will, of course, be the result. In such cases, no remedy may -be hoped for until those to whom the child is committed, and who alone -should be responsible for forming its habits, have learned that sound -judgment and good common-sense must be their guides in the care of -their helpless little ones, and not maternal pride. - -But, on the other hand, take a child who from its birth is trained in -the most sensible manner,--washed, dressed, and fed at fixed hours, and -laid, without rocking, to sleep in the crib, where no foolish friend, -indulgent aunt, or grandmother is permitted to disturb or see it until -it wakes naturally and is ready for the next meal. All through the day -it sleeps, or serenely watches the dancing shadows on the wall, or -the bright sun through the curtains; and but for the little cooing, -rippling sounds that occasionally give token of its presence, one -hardly realizes that there is a babe in the house. But at night the -little one becomes restless and begins to cry. Every means for quieting -it are resorted to. It is patted, trotted, rocked, and sung to, but all -is of no avail. What can be the matter? - -Let us take this uneasy little mortal. Ah! we see. In dressing it in -the morning you pinned the little waists as tightly as you could draw -them, so that the body is as round and unyielding as a marble pillar. -The morning bath and change of clothes brought some relief from the -night’s fetters; and for the first part of the day, or, if uncommonly -strong and healthy, until night, the child may be quiet and endure; but -by night, release from so many hours’ bondage is absolutely needed. -How would you like to have your clothes thus bound about you? No room -for free breathing, no elasticity of body! What chance for healthy -digestion? After many hours, during the day, of perfect inactivity, -what wonder if by night the poor baby feels this compression -insupportable! Its little limbs must ache, and the whole body become -stiff and numb. But instead of relief, when the child is disrobed and -night-clothes substituted, it is only to tighten the bands, and leave -it to pass the long hours of darkness as much like a mummy as before. - -When we see a child thus bound, we think it would afford us pleasure -to act as dressing-maid to the mother long enough to teach her what -torture she is thoughtlessly inflicting on her helpless babe. It has -no way of attracting your attention and begging for relief but through -tears. If the mother was subjected to the same distress for once, she -would ever after understand why her baby lifts up its voice like a -trumpet, to tell her of her sins. - -Whenever an infant begins to cry, without any apparent cause, by day -or by night, let your first act be to examine its clothing; loosen -it, remove the pins, or untie the strings, and see if the lungs have -free space to expand, and the body a chance to move every limb and -muscle. Rub the body gently with your warm hand, particularly the back, -lungs, and bowels, to promote the circulation which the barbarous -swaddling-bands have all day impeded. Try this remedy, particularly at -night, and, unless you again “put on the screws,” in most cases your -baby will fall into a peaceful slumber, and you may hope for unbroken -rest. - -But here is another whose garments are all sensibly adjusted, yet its -piteous cries are enough to make the heart ache. What is the matter? -Touch the little blue hands, and you will find them like ice. Take the -child in your lap; draw your chair to the fire; heat a blanket and -wrap about it; lay it on the stomach, across your lap, holding the -cold hands in one of yours; shake out the foolishly long robes, till, -hidden somewhere in this mass of flannel and embroidery, you find the -numb little toes, and hold them toward the fire till warm. See how -it stretches its feet to the fire, and puts the pretty face close up -to your warm hands. Many a child who has cried for hours, taxing all -the mother’s strength and skill, and filling her heart with alarm, -will, under this simple treatment, in a few minutes be fast asleep. -Only turning a child over in the crib--anything to change its position -when you find that it begins to cry or becomes restless before its nap -is finished--will sometimes soothe it to quiet slumber, give it the -benefit of a long sleep, and you sufficient time to accomplish many -things which must have been laid aside had baby waked too soon. - -Endeavor to imagine yourself in an infant’s place when it manifests -symptoms you do not well understand. You wrap its hands and feet so -closely, when you lay it down to sleep, that it cannot stir. Could -you remain two hours thus fettered without becoming cramped and full -of pain? Loosen the wrappings; shake up the pillow and turn it over -occasionally that the little head may rest on a cool spot (and, by -the way, a good hair pillow, not too full, and well beaten every day, -that it may not become lumpy, is far more healthful for any child than -feathers). If awake, change its position; or if it has lain long, take -it up, toss it gently, and play with it awhile to give it a pleasant -variety, and cause the blood to circulate freely through the whole body. - -If these simple methods do not pacify a crying child, it is very -probable that some of the above-mentioned causes have produced colic; -but do not give the simplest medicine till you have tried what virtue -there is in an _enema_ of tepid water. Unless the crying indicates the -beginning of some acute disease, we have invariably found the effects -almost magical, and in no case will it be hurtful. - -Never nurse your child when you are chilled, fatigued, or terrified. -The child, however hungry, must wait, or be otherwise fed, until -your own system becomes quiet. It must be a very strong child who -will not suffer from the nourishment the mother offers while under -such disturbance. If your excitement proceeds from fear, go to your -husband or some friend who has the power to soothe or talk you into -quietude, before you see your child. If fatigued, sit down and rest; if -overheated, wash your face and hands in cool water, keeping out of any -current of air, and become thoroughly cool before you nurse your baby. - -If, unfortunately, you have allowed yourself to be overcome by anger, -keep far away from the little one, till you have asked God to still the -tempest, and feel that by his grace you are at peace. If in such an -unhappy state you dare to perform a mother’s sweetest duty, your child -will bring you to repentance before many hours elapse. - -In early youth we were once compelled to watch by a child in -convulsions. This was among our first painful experiences, and when -we were absent from home. To our dying day we shall never forget the -mother’s dumb anguish when told that the child must die. We afterward -learned that she had been furiously angry with her husband. The -angry voices frightened the child, and to still its crying, even in -the fierce heat of her passion, she put the babe to her breast. The -physician knew of her ungovernable temper, and, boarding with her, had -been the witness of the morning’s tornado. Over the suffering little -creature, he sternly told her that her temper had killed her child. -We never saw her but once after that sad trial, but the marks of the -penalty which followed so quickly upon her sin were still stamped upon -her face. - -Mothers do not enough understand or believe these facts, because they -are not accustomed to trace the effect to the cause; but a physician -who looks carefully into the cases which come under his care will -assure you that this is no fiction. A mother at all times is called -upon to guard well her own actions, and to practice much self-denial -for the sake of her offspring, but never more than when her child draws -its nourishment from her breast; and never are judgment and care in the -clothing, in the fashioning and adjusting of it, more important than -while the babe is incapable of making known its wants or discomforts -except by crying. - - - - -LXIII. - -PERSONAL NEATNESS. - - -THOSE who have the oversight of household affairs, and perhaps are also -compelled to perform much of the manual labor themselves, cannot be -expected to keep their garments at all times spotlessly clean, still -less can they preserve their hands soft and delicate; yet there is far -too much inexcusable carelessness about personal appearance, among -those who are called upon to be always active and industrious, as well -as among those who have fewer responsibilities. - -“Well, I, for one, don’t see how a farmer’s or mechanic’s wife can help -it; she is obliged to rise early to prepare the breakfast, or see that -it is being properly prepared; then the milk requires early attention, -or perhaps butter and cheese are to be made: one duty follows another -in such quick succession, that from the time the housewife rises in the -morning until after dinner, at least, she is compelled to work rapidly -if she would be through in proper season. What time has she to think -about her own personal appearance? A fine housewife that must be, who -would feel obliged to stop in the midst of some important work to see -if her hair was in _company order_, or that no spot of any kind had -soiled her dress or apron. It is all very well for _ladies_ to be thus -particular, but laboring people have no spare moments for any such -ill-timed neatness.” - -We do not expect you to be always “in company order,” as you understand -that term: that would be exceedingly inconsistent; yet we could never -understand why one’s own family--those whom we love, and with whom -we hope to spend our days--should not have as strong claims upon our -thoughts, time, and personal appearance as those whom we seldom see; -and we do know that one can work, and work hard, and yet be at all -times so tidy that she need not be mortified to be _caught by company_. -Let us give you a few hints which good common-sense can easily enlarge. - -When retiring at night give the hair a thorough brushing, not only for -your own comfort and to promote a healthy condition of the hair, and -remove all dust that through the day will naturally settle in it, but -also to secure greater expedition in dressing in the morning; this -done, fold it up loosely, draw a net or very thin cap over to prevent -tangling: with this precaution it should not take long when you rise to -smooth and arrange it neatly, though, unfortunately, smooth and neatly -arranged hair is no longer fashionable; but it is hoped that while at -work, even those who bow down most subserviently to the fickle goddess, -Fashion, so arrange that no loose hairs are flying. - -It is convenient to have morning-wrappers made with a narrow ruffle -round the neck of the same material as the dress; or, if yours are -not so made, before retiring baste or pin in a simple collar or -ruffle, that no needless time may be spent in dressing. If you are -not accustomed to a full bath every morning, a thorough bath at night -is very desirable, even if only a sponge bath can be obtained, and -then a copious washing before dressing will occupy but a few moments. -The teeth should be well brushed, and the mouth and throat faithfully -rinsed in cold water morning and night and after each meal; no hurry of -work should be an excuse for neglecting this duty, if not for neatness -and comfort, for health’s sake. The hair in order, face and hands -washed, and teeth brushed, it will then require but a few minutes’ time -longer to be ready to leave your chamber and go to your early morning -labors in the neatest working order. - -A large apron made from heavy brown or white “butchers’ linen” is much -neater and more serviceable than calico or gingham; it does not wrinkle -so easily, and if wet will not become limp and useless so soon. The -sleeve of a morning-dress should be large enough at the bottom to be -easily folded back above the elbow and pinned up; or, if preferred, a -deep cuff is very convenient, as during work it can be unbuttoned and -turned back in the same way. Put a button and a loop of tape or strong -cord about a quarter of a yard apart, on four seams of the skirt at -least,--before, behind, and on each side,--so that you can loop up the -dress evenly instead of pinning it awkwardly back; it is much neater -and in the end will save time, and certainly it keeps the dress from -being soiled at the bottom, and thus saves much washing. - -Now go to work with bare arms, a large, long apron, and dress looped -up, too short to be drabbled; and it is very seldom, except in cases -of uncommon accident, that one’s working attire may not be kept in -suitable condition to meet any stranger or friend who may chance to -call during the busy hours of the day. With smooth hair and a clean -dress, you may consider yourself perfectly presentable; all preparation -needed should not occupy five minutes, and no caller should be kept -waiting longer. Unpin the sleeves, unbutton the dress where looped up, -take off the apron, wash hands and face, and smooth the hair if need -be,--that is all. To keep a visitor waiting is not in good taste; we -think it inexcusable, unless compelled by some unusual hindrance. In -that case, send in your reasons or some apology for delay, when the -caller will either wait patiently, knowing that you could not help it, -or, if in haste, return regrets and leave. This is far more kind and -courteous than to keep any one waiting fifteen or twenty minutes, in -haste perhaps, but not daring to leave, because thinking each moment -you will enter. - -If, while preserving, or in any other way, you stain your hands, a -few drops of muriatic acid will remove the stain at once. It is very -convenient to have a bottle of this liquid always in the house, for a -black, ugly stain on the hand is a very disagreeable sight; but the -bottle should be put in a secure place, where children or careless -servants cannot meddle with it. It is poisonous, but perfectly safe if -kept securely and used as directed. Wet the spot with the acid, rub -quickly over the stain, and immediately wash in clear water, else it -will burn and make your hands uncomfortably rough. After washing off -the acid, give your hands a good washing in hot soapsuds, using a nail- -or finger-brush to clean all round the nails, which in preserving or -paring fruit are usually badly discolored. Those brushes which have a -nail-cleaner at the top of the handle are the best. No one should be -without a finger-brush, and to none is it more indispensable than to -those who have the most of the family work to do. Wet the brush and -rub soap on it; then brush the nails and inside of the hands with it -before you finish washing them. Nothing more effectually removes the -stains and dirt, which will of course settle on the inside of the hands -when handling pots and kettles or working over the stove; and even if -your hands are roughened by no such labor, the nail-brush is of great -service. - -Often when in haste, the dress or apron is caught against a hook or -nail, and a sad rent is made. Whatever your hurry, do not go a moment -with this accident unrepaired. If it happens while some article is -over the fire which may not be left a moment without danger or injury, -you can at least pin up the unsightly hole. Always carry a small -pincushion, filled with pins, in your pocket; if you do not need one -yourself, somebody else may be in trouble for want of only a pin; and -make it a point, as far as possible, to keep a needle ready threaded -near by, so that at a moment’s warning you can temporarily run up any -rent made while at work, which, if in your power, is far better than -pinning it up. A big grease spot or prominent rent on a woman’s dress -is a poor recommendation, and we confess we never see them without -forming an unfavorable opinion, if a stranger, or experiencing a -feeling of mortification and annoyance, if a friend. - -A looking-glass, comb, and brush are out of place in the kitchen, but a -small glass in a back hall or entry close by, with a shelf beneath for -the comb and brush, are quite necessary for your servants, and it is a -great convenience to have another near by for your own use, so that if -hastily summoned from the kitchen, you can smooth your hair, and by the -glass assure yourself that there is nothing untidy about you. - -There is one kind of personal neglect that we often see, with great -surprise, and quite frequently among a class of people who have little -to do with hard work, and no excuse for the carelessness from lack -of time. We have seen, just above point-lace and diamonds, _ears_ -that have long been unacquainted with a plentiful supply of soap -and water. A pretty ear is very attractive to us. We always notice -particularly the eye and ear in every one we meet; and if we see brown, -dirty-looking streaks behind the ear, or the rim and inside dirty, -with unseemly accumulations of ear-wax remaining uncared for,--if it -is on a girl who applies for a place, we would not receive her; if on -a “lady,” we find it hard to feel much respect for her. Unless in a -desert, unblessed by water, there is no manner of excuse to be found -for such neglect. - -These hints may seem quite insignificant, but we cannot think them -so. Aside from the comfort and respectability of scrupulous neatness -in your own habits, you are, by your example as you should be by your -precepts, giving ideas of neatness and order to your children and -servants. But if they see you come down in the morning with your hair -in disorder, your garments dirty or torn, shoes or boots slipshod or -unbuttoned, you may be sure your example will be very readily imitated, -and probably greatly exaggerated. If a girl is uncleanly in her person, -there is every reason to presume she will be slatternly about her work, -and particularly so about her cooking. Therefore, if only for selfish -reasons, it is most desirable that young housekeepers should have a -high standard for personal cleanliness, and live in full accordance -with it. - - - - -LXIV. - -ARE HOUSE-PLANTS INJURIOUS TO THE HEALTH? - - -“MRS. BEECHER: My wife and I are both attentive readers of the -‘Christian Union,’ and we venture to ask for a few words of information -upon the subject of _house-plants_. We are passionately fond of -flowers, but have frequently seen it stated that plants, especially -flowering plants, vitiate the air, rendering it unfit for breathing -purposes. Is that really true? We like plants in our sleeping-rooms, -but of course would give them up if convinced that they were injurious -to the health. We have heliotropes, roses, geraniums, lilies, -fuchsias, and a number of other plants. Do these render the atmosphere -noxious to life and health? As plants liberate oxygen and absorb -carbonic gas, we think they ought to be wholesome. Or is it the -_blossom_ that does the mischief? Is a sweet-smelling flower poisonous? -Will you please set us right upon this matter, and oblige - - “TWO YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS.” - -We copy this letter entire, hoping by so doing to bring this subject -to the attention of those whose opinion and judgment are of greater -worth than our own. There are many conflicting opinions concerning the -effect which plants and vines, growing in the house, and filling it by -day and by night with their delightful atmosphere, have upon the health -of their worshipers. If the wise and scientific among our readers will -give this matter attentive and sober thought, we hope to find in the -multitude of counselors the wisdom which is so much needed. - -It is not very many years since physicians lifted up their voices -against this pleasant adornment of our homes, by which some portion of -the joyous summer may be wrested from the grasp of the frost king, and -which enables us while indoors, to forget that fingers and toes are in -danger the moment we venture outside of the carefully tended parlor -garden. - -But our physicians change their opinions like other mortals, and at the -present time some affirm that plants and vines in the house, or even -in the sleeping-apartments, are health-giving. They tell us that the -carbonic gas which is being constantly set free from our lungs, and -which is detrimental, is at once absorbed by our flowers, while these -at the same time give to us, in exchange, the oxygen which, in its -proper place and quantity, is so necessary to health and life. - -Other physicians assume that a growing plant is not noxious or in any -way detrimental, but that as soon as it begins to blossom it should -be at once removed from a bedchamber, and if allowed to remain in the -house at all, should be placed, while in bloom, as far as possible from -the family apartments. - -Again, it is stated--and all these conflicting opinions, we are told, -come to us from the “best and most reliable authority”--that no plant, -in flower or not, is at all injurious in any part of the house, so -long as the perfume from the blossom is not powerful and not at all -offensive. “Who shall decide when doctors disagree?” It seems to us -very important that our learned, scientific men--those who make the -effects of the various gases on life and health a careful study--should -give this question a thorough investigation, and when, after mature -research, they arrive, as they suppose, at a proper conclusion, should -publish their opinion in simple terms, such as all can comprehend. We -should rejoice if the conclusion of the whole matter might be such that -all could lean upon it with no fear of its proving by and by a broken -reed; but it is difficult to keep pace with changes in the results of -scientific investigations. - -One year certain health-principles are established, the next they are -set aside for some other thing. Some articles of food are prohibited -as being very injurious, but in a few months the prohibition is cast -aside. One mode of diet is declared pernicious, shortening the days, -and making the few that are granted undesirable. Yet, just as you are -ready to accept this theory, you are told of those who have lived -wellnigh to a hundred years, or perhaps have passed that period, always -healthful and cheerful, yet the proscribed diet or article of food has -been habitually indulged in by them. - -For our own part, we find it difficult to believe that the plants -cultivated in our homes, and which so beautify and enliven our -winters, can be injurious, provided the rooms in which they are placed -are kept _well ventilated_. In severely cold weather it may not be -advisable to open a window just over the plants, but when windows are -raised to air adjacent rooms, where there are no flowers, then open -the doors leading from them to the parlor, or winter garden, that -the cold breeze from without may sweep through the whole suite of -rooms for a few moments until the air is entirely changed. This, even -in the coldest winter, will do the plants no harm, nor their owners -either, but, on the contrary, will be very beneficial, making both -more healthy and vigorous. Many a lady in mid-winter sits by the fire -or register, yawning and stupidly sleepy, with a dull heavy pain over -the eyes foreboding a severe headache, who could throw off all this -torpidity, defy the headache, and rise up refreshed and vigorous, if -she would simply throw open her doors or windows just long enough to -drive out the overcharged air in the room, and by so doing bring in -exchange a pure and invigorating atmosphere from the outdoor world; and -house-plants will be equally benefited by the same prescription. - -We should not think it wise to have plants in bloom in the -sleeping-apartment, unless the room was large, and the doors so -arranged as to favor frequent and complete change of the air. - -It is always desirable, just before retiring, to raise the windows for -a few moments, not only in the parlors, but in the sleeping-apartments, -particularly if they have been used through the day as sewing-rooms. It -will insure a more refreshing sleep, and also a brighter awakening in -the morning. House-plants should be placed on a stand having castors, -so that they can be easily rolled away from the windows when opened, -until the room is fully aired; or, if freezing cold, an old cloth kept -for the purpose, or old newspapers, should be thrown over the plants -to protect them from being chilled. - -_Cut flowers_, we think, should not be left in a bedroom overnight. -Just before retiring, set them into a cool, dark closet. They will keep -fresh much longer by using this precaution, and the occupants of the -chamber escape any possible injury from them. The water in which cut -flowers are put ought to be changed every night and morning, or it will -become slimy and offensive, as well as injurious. - -The love of flowers is very desirable in children, and should be -cultivated from their earliest years. For that reason, if for no other, -we should be exceedingly sorry to have any physician whose judgment we -respected forbid the cultivation of house-plants, particularly in the -nursery. In that room every bright and pretty thing should be gathered, -and certainly nothing more quickly attracts the attention of children -than a choice collection of flowers. To find these all about the house, -but especially in the nursery,--their own peculiar domain,--secures a -taste for them far more surely than to see them kept exclusively in the -green-house, or in rooms set apart for their culture and nothing more. -Yet no mother will risk her children’s health in the least degree, -and if her physician assures her flowers in any part of the house are -harmful, she will eject them at once. We do not at all believe they -are injurious to the health, and know that they greatly increase the -happiness of those who cultivate them. But we are open to conviction, -and if any one of reliable judgment can bring sound reasons against -keeping these house-gardens, we should be glad to know of them. - - - - -LXV. - -BAD BUTTER. - - -OF all the needless discomforts common to boarding-houses and hotels, -we know of none so truly inexcusable, nor which subtracts more from -one’s enjoyment, than the use of bad butter for cooking purposes. -When placed on the table in the butter-dish, if found to be imperfect -or quite unpalatable the butter can easily be rejected. To eat good -bread without butter, or, if the bread is unsatisfactory, a fine mealy -potato with a little salt, is by no means the greatest hardship that -you may be subjected to. But imagine yourself seated at the table, and -a large dish of fresh peas, green and tender, brought in. You have -been hoping, almost impatiently, to see them each day, and now what a -feast is yours, in anticipation. You can hardly wait till the soup is -removed. Visions of the splendid peas, of sweet and delicious flavor, -which you used to eat at your father’s table, are floating before you; -and tender remembrances of the dear hand that then so deftly ministered -to your childish appetite are rising, until you are fast verging toward -sentimentality, when your turn comes to be helped. These peas are -the first real _country_ peas, picked right from the vines, you have -tasted since your home was established in the city, and you eagerly -bid farewell to sentiment, and address yourself to the full enjoyment -of visible, tangible things. How you would like to take a real big -mouthful in a childlike manner! But you control your eagerness, and, -ladylike, demurely carry the spoon to the mouth. O horrors! Have you -fortitude and self-possession sufficient to enable you to swallow -that detestable morsel? Politeness and unwillingness to exhibit your -disgust to others at the table control you. With a shuddering gulp -you swallow, but hold your breath till you snatch a piece of bread or -a mouthful of water to send after, with some faint hope of removing -the vile taste. What is it that so disturbs you? _Rancid butter!_ Is -there anything, any taste more revolting and abominable? That delicious -dish of peas spoiled, irretrievably, by a spoonful of the nauseous -abomination, manufactured by careless dairy-women, and bought by -easily gulled grocers, or by those persons possessed of india-rubber -consciences, capable of stretching to any imaginable length, who -will sell this abomination for good butter. Or it may be some sharp, -managing landlady has bought it, knowing its bad character, for -economical reasons. Her boarders will not eat very heartily of any dish -that is flavored with such butter, and yet they will be compelled to -eat something, even if distasteful. We know such ideas of economy--not -honesty--are common; but boarders are very foolish who submit to this -imposition. If they choose, they can easily teach such unscrupulous -managers that being “penny wise and pound foolish,” in the long run, -will not secure prosperity. - -But you will try to judge charitably. Perhaps this was a mistake; -and it may be that only the peas have suffered. You will try to look -cheerful and satisfied, and turn to the nice piece of broiled chicken -on your plate. Alas, alas! Juicy and tender, broiled just right to -a perfect brown, but all destroyed by this miserably rancid butter! -“The offence is rank. It smells to heaven!” What can you do? Where -turn? Beets, beans, succotash,--that dish to which, with green peas, -you swore allegiance in early childhood, and have faithfully kept the -vow,--all destroyed by this most villainous compound. You nibble at a -bit of bread or piece of potato, and try to wait patiently till the -dessert is brought in, for you see no alternative but to make that -your principal meal. You wonder if others are as uncomfortable, but, -conscious of the intense disgust your face may exhibit, fear to look -boldly around. - -Well, there is a balm for almost every woe, and here comes the -dessert; it may bring healing for your wounded feelings. What a -delicious-looking apple-dumpling! This atones! Will you take wine sauce -or hard sauce? You don’t like wine sauce; but the _butter_ in the hard -sauce,--dare you venture? Why, surely no one will risk such butter as -the vegetables were seasoned with in a delicate sauce! But one taste -is sufficient to show you that you have not yet fathomed the depths of -economical audacity. You put back your plate and try a bit of pie. Even -into the pastry the enemy has found entrance. - -But you say, “What is one to do? The rooms are engaged for a month, -and I must stay the limited time or forfeit the price of the rooms, -and that I cannot afford to do; yet I shall surely starve. I hardly -feel that I can eat a meal without butter. The table butter is not -so intolerable as that used in cooking, but even that is all I can -endure. What can I do?” Will it not be better economy to leave at once, -and lose the rent of your rooms, rather than stay and starve a month, -or attempt to “fill the aching void” by that which may derange your -stomach, and induce fever, dyspepsia, or other sickness, which will -cost, in doctors’ bills, ten times the price of your rooms to eradicate? - -This great evil will never be remedied while those who board, either -regularly or only for a few weeks in the summer, continue to “put up” -with this discomfort as one of the ills of life which _must_ be borne. -Let it be once fully understood that all boarders--all who frequent -fashionable resorts--are fixed in their determination to endure this -cruel imposition no longer, and that as soon as they find poor butter -is a part of the regular diet, and good butter only an occasional -luxury, they will at once leave, and we think the hotels and -boarding-houses will soon find means to procure a good article. Let -this class of purchasers alone refuse to buy any but the best, and the -large number of poor butter makers will soon be taught the necessity of -greater carefulness in their dairies. - -Bad butter is entirely a needless discomfort. The fault begins, of -course, with the manufacturers. They have no excuse, as a general -thing. Once in a great while, there may be a reason for a few pounds -of poor butter in the dairy, which, though it should be a source of -regret, is not necessarily a disgrace. Sickness in the family may -sometimes compel the overtaxed housekeeper to neglect the dairy, or -leave it for a short time in incompetent hands, who, either indolently -or ignorantly, fail to give the milk-pans a thorough scalding, or -leave the cream too long on the milk and too long unchurned, who do -not understand salting or working over the butter; but in such cases -no one with any self-respect will allow the butter to leave their own -house. If at all usable, they will sooner submit to the disagreeable -necessity of using it for their own food, or put it at once into the -only place where poor butter has any right to be,--the soap-grease pot; -anything rather than do themselves the discredit, and their customers -the injustice, of sending it into the market. That is a species of -meanness that should be considered unpardonable; and just as soon as -the grocer learns that his customers will not, under any consideration, -buy poor butter of him, and the dairymen understand that the grocer -will not look at any but the very best, this mischief will be rooted -out, “the plague be stayed”; poor butter makers will find their -occupation gone, and leave the field to more conscientious and more -competent manufacturers, or at once, from self-interest, if not from -self-respect, resolutely set about securing instruction, and learn the -only way to make good butter. This is easily done; care, neatness, and -good judgment are all that is requisite after the mode of operation is -understood, and the preliminary steps are simple and easily taken. It -is a marvel that this nuisance has been so long tolerated. It is just -as easy to make good butter as poor. It is simply want of neatness -or deficiency of judgment that fills our markets with a miserable -preparation that is only fit for soap-grease or the pigs. - -First, take care that your cows are not allowed food that will affect -the taste of the milk,--such as turnips, cabbage, or onions; then the -cows’ bags and the milkers’ hands must be washed perfectly clean before -beginning to milk; any dirt or bad flavor from the cow’s bag or the -hands, that may find its way into the milk-pail, will taint the milk -and injure the flavor of the butter; for it should be borne in mind -constantly, that there is nothing that receives any foreign taste so -readily as butter. - -Next, all the utensils--pails, strainers, pans, skimmers, churn, -butter-bowl, and ladles--must be kept as sweet and clean as scalding -water and a hot sun can make them. The cream, even in the coldest -weather, must not be allowed to remain on the milk over thirty-six -hours, and in warm weather even less. In hot days remove the cream as -soon as the milk begins to sour: none will rise after the milk changes. -Although it will, of course, become _thicker_ by souring, it does not -follow that it will be any better; on the contrary, every moment the -cream is left on sour milk takes from the sweetness, quality, and -purity of the butter. In churning, the motion should be even, not -too rapid, and, when gathered, the butter must be well worked over -and salted, and set on the ice, or in a place so cool that it will -soon harden and keep so; but be sure that no meat, fish, fruit, or -vegetables are put in the milk-room or cellar,--nothing from which -the milk or butter will contract any taste. It will require a second -salting the next morning, to remove what buttermilk may be left from -the first working. One of the great merits of the Blanchard churn is -the facility with which the buttermilk can be freed from the butter, as -the less manipulation the better for the butter, provided you secure -entire freedom from buttermilk. - -Many put in a little saltpetre, to make the butter hard and firm,--a -bad practice, we think, not only because it gives a slightly unpleasant -taste to the butter, but also because it may prove injurious to the -consumer. A butter-pail or pot, perfectly sweet, should be well rubbed -with salt, and the butter be packed in it, and well pounded down so -as to leave no air-holes; then cover the butter an inch deep with -brine strong enough to bear up an egg, and put to the _brine_ two -table-spoonfuls of pulverized saltpetre. This will help to keep the -butter sweet and hard; and, used in the brine, will neither impart any -acrid taste to the butter nor be in the least degree unhealthful. - -These rules strictly followed by our dairy-women, we are confident -that there will be no complaints of _bad butter_, but the comfort and -happiness of the consumers be greatly increased, and the labor of the -butter makers in nowise augmented thereby. - -We lately saw a receipt for keeping dairy utensils pure and sweet, -which we mean to try, as we think it cannot but be advantageous. Keep -close by the table on which the milk things are washed “a small tub -or a hogshead, according to the size of your dairy. In this, slack -some good quicklime, enough to make a thin whitewash; fill with water, -cover closely to keep out dirt and dust. The lime will settle, leaving -a saturated solution of lime-water over it, as clear as spring water. -Wash the utensils as usual; then dip each article into the cask of -lime-water, giving them a quick turn, so that every part shall be -immersed in the lime-water, then set them up to drain and dry, and -the purification is complete.” We presume in the case of a churn, -cheese-tub, cheese-press, or other large article, that pouring the -lime-water over it will answer the purpose just as well, though using -the lime-water up sooner than by dipping into the cask. - -The lime in the clear water instantly neutralizes the acidity of the -milk which may yet remain in the cracks or seams of the milk-vessels. -The lime keeps the water pure all summer, and the waste and evaporation -may be made up by adding clear water when needed, as the lime settled -at the bottom will keep up the strength of the saturated solution. - - - - -LXVI. - -OCTOBER. - - -THE brilliant hues in the mountains, the falling leaves in the lanes -(over which the horses’ feet make such sweet yet melancholy music), -remind us that October, the brightest, dearest month in the whole year, -has come; but while we rejoice in anticipation of the glorious hours it -promises, we must not forget that during these mild, invigorating days -our houses must be set in order properly to meet the sharp November -weather, which is close at hand, and the fiercer blasts of winter which -will follow. - -Now the frosty nights and cool days will soon relieve us from the -plague of flies, which have by their unconquerable impertinence so -perplexed and disheartened all good housekeepers through the summer; at -least we may promise this relief, if they are hunted every night and -morning from the dark corners where they delight to hide at the first -approach of frost. Attack them every evening with brush and broom, -driving them out doors into the cold night air, closing doors and -windows after them, and a few frosty nights will rid you of this evil -for the winter. After each battle sweep up all the dead and disabled -and burn them, that from out of the pile which you will have gathered -no stunned or crippled fly may be ready to rise up against you with the -morning sun. As the cold increases they become stupid and less active, -and huddle together in masses on the ceiling or windows, where they -cling, too stiff and torpid to shun your approach, thus affording a -good opportunity to brush down and destroy them in large quantities. -If up each morning before the sun, as every good housekeeper should -be, you will have another favorable time to remove them; but if both -night and morning these opportunities for banishing your enemies have -been neglected, you will find as soon as the fires are kindled, or the -bright warm October sun shines through your windows, they will come out -from their hiding-places and be just as busy through the day, and far -more annoying, than in July and August. If you have been vigilant, the -frost and snow, combined with your unwearied skirmishes, will soon set -you free, and the flies be remembered only as trials of the past; and -through the winter, at least, you may hope to rest from your labors in -this particular direction. - -But never imagine that you can sit down in idleness; as the flies -are routed, or on the retreat, you will find yourself beset with -_wasps_. During the chilly September days they begin to seek for winter -quarters. They are well content for the most part to weave their summer -nests away from the house, in trees and shrubbery; but as cold weather -approaches they are prone to select some snug retreat under the rafters -of the barn or the eaves of the house or attics. They like to curl up -in large masses inside the window-blinds on the east or south side -of the house, where they remain too torpid to stir at your approach, -until the sun pours in its warm flood of light, to wake them to life -and activity. Wherever they are thus found massed together, if at all -within reach, be sure and spare no effort to destroy them early in the -morning, while in this torpid condition. It is very easy then to kill -them: take a pitcher of boiling-hot water, raise the window carefully -and pour it over them; or if nested close on the window-glass, pour -it down between the upper and lower sash and it will destroy large -quantities of them instantly. The few stragglers that were only -slightly touched with the hot water will not be vigorously active, and -you can easily brush them into a pail or dust-pan and burn them. Unless -you take some such method of removing the wasps, it is not safe to -raise your windows to air your rooms and let in morning air and sun, as -they will be sure to seek shelter in the chamber instead of remaining -inside the window-blind, because as the sun warms their lodgings they -become quite lively; and, once in the room, should they crawl in under -the pillows and sheets, a favorite shelter for them, the warmth of your -body at night would most probably rouse them, and they might disturb -your slumber in a manner by no means agreeable. - -It is unfortunate that wasps often attack without provocation; and -such applicants for winter shelter should be destroyed as effectually -as possible, especially when there are children about. Their stings -are bad enough for an adult to bear, but it is piteous to see a -child suffer from them; because to the pain is added a terror not -easily controlled. Notwithstanding the utmost vigilance, some may -so skillfully secrete themselves that your first knowledge of their -presence will be a sting. Every one should keep a speedy antidote in -the house, and nothing gives so thorough and instantaneous relief as -_cut tobacco_,--the only thing that we know of that it is good for. We -never fail to have a paper close at hand, where every one in the house -knows where to find it. Wet a small quantity of it and lay at once on -the spot stung, holding it on tightly for three or four minutes, and -the pain and swelling will be at once removed. - -These annoyances disposed of, you can now commence a thorough -house-cleaning, and at once begin to remove all the marks by which the -flies have disfigured your house and furniture, and disturbed your -peace through the warm weather. - -No good housekeeper will allow the glorious October days to beguile -her into forgetfulness so far as to neglect house-cleaning until the -raw and chilly November weather is upon her, and winter is close at -hand. October is by far the best month for fall house-cleaning, not -only because the flies are disposed of, or so far under your control -that they can be kept out of the house, but also because the weather -is usually not so warm that such work is exhausting and severe, nor -so cold that the necessary exposure chills; the cleaning can be -accomplished with more comfort and less fatigue than in any other month -of the year. - -During the summer all the small fruits have been plentifully supplied, -and later, peaches, pears, and grapes have furnished much enjoyment -and many luxuries; but all these good things levy a tax upon us in -some shape or another, generally defacing furniture or leaving ugly -stains on our clothes or table linen. The clear, frosty nights that we -may soon look for will aid materially in eradicating the stains; but -the injury done to furniture, especially articles with marble tops, -requires a different treatment. - -Fruit stains may be removed from linen, without in any way injuring the -fabric, by rubbing yellow soap on both sides of the stained spots; then -wet some starch in cold water or in lemon-juice to a thick paste, and -spread over the soap; rub this starch-paste into the cloth thoroughly, -and expose the linen to sun and air till the stains disappear. If they -do not entirely go in three or four days, repeat the application. This -is for stains that have been in some days; if taken when fresh stained -there is little trouble in removing them. Hold the stained place over a -bowl and pour on _boiling_ water; let it filter through slowly, pouring -on the water gradually till the stain disappears; then lay the article -in the hot sun for an hour or two, when it may be washed and ironed. -The water used must be really boiling, and the stain fresh made, not -dried in for days, for this remedy to be efficient. As by this mode one -avoids all danger of injuring the texture of the cloth, it is worth -while to take a little trouble at once and save the linen instead of -waiting until quite dry. Bleaching liquids, chlorate of lime, Javelle -water, and many other preparations, are good if carefully used. - -When marble is stained with fruit, oxalic acid diluted with water, or -oil of vitriol and water, rubbed on the stain and left a few minutes, -will remove the spot; but they must be used with care, for if left on -too long they will destroy the polish of the marble. Rub off very dry, -and polish with chamois-skin. - -There are a multitude of receipts for removing stains both from linen -and marble, but very many, although they remove the stains, are liable -to remove the cloth also, or in marble destroy the polish; others are -useful, and in time our readers shall have them. - - - - -LXVII. - -THE SLAVERY OF FASHION. - - -“WORN OUT,” “_Overtaxed_,” “_Used up_,” “_Too tired for anything_,” -are expressions daily heard from mothers and housekeepers; and the -languid step, pale, care-worn face, and heavy eyes bear witness that -these are not foolish, unmeaning words, but all too near the truth for -safety. Most are ready to recognize the fact that half the feebleness -and ill health among women arises from over-exertion while attempting -to carry burdens too weighty for the constitution. Yet how much of -this is needless, in no wise increasing the comfort or happiness of -the family circle, but, in every department of household labor, the -result of blind, unreasoning adherence to the dictates of fashion. -Look backward but one half-century. Are those of us who require three -or four servants to keep the household machinery in working order any -happier than our mothers were? We turn from our fashionable cooking -and elaborately served tables with longing for the simpler yet most -excellent cooking of the olden time, when one servant was sufficient, -and often none at all was required; the mother, with her little -daughters round her, preferring to do all the work without a servant, -that she might herself teach her young girls the lessons of domestic -economy as none but a mother can teach them. - -Was all that labor more wearing to health and strength than the cruel -bondage in which we live, while laboring to secure, from servants, -the care and efficient work absolutely necessary to the present style -of living? With how much more appetite we partook of the plainly -cooked and more healthful food in those days, undisturbed by the -bustle and confusion of many courses, or the constant attendance of a -waiter, whose eyes and ears are usually more observing of the little -pleasantries and freedom of the family circle than of the service -which a fashionable style demands, and whose tongue is ready to retail -all that is said or done at our table, and “with additions strange.” -The meal finished, the labor of clearing away and washing the many -dishes now required is fourfold what was demanded in the times of more -simple and pleasure-giving customs, to say nothing of the reckless -heedlessness and destruction fostered by the haste necessary to be -ready for the next formal meal. - -But the slavery of providing for the table is nothing in comparison -with the over-exertion which fashionable dress exacts. Even if the -labor of the olden time was burdensome, and time and strength too -heavily taxed, yet the exercise of the whole body, and frequent -opportunities of breathing fresh outdoor air, which housework compels, -were far more likely to secure firm health than can be hoped for if one -sits for hours bending over ruffling and trimmings, thereby restricting -the proper action of the lungs, and straining the eyes until they -become weak and prematurely old. In many cases this must all be done -without help, for few, comparatively, can afford to hire a seamstress, -and yet be able to spend money as lavishly on such elaborate dress as -the present monstrous style demands. But we are not sure that even -that herculean task is as injurious to health and happiness as the -severe strain on strength, nerves, and temper, which those ladies whose -purses are always full experience in traversing the city, roaming from -store to store, in their anxiety to secure the first and newest style, -and at the same time torturing themselves lest, after all this labor, -they should misjudge or be beguiled into wrong selections. With this -fear ever present, they repeat those tiresome journeys day after day, -making themselves disagreeable and uncomfortable, and exhausting the -wonderful long-suffering and patience of the shopkeepers before they -can decide which of all the many patterns they will purchase. - -But the material being at last selected, can they now rest from their -labors? Ah, no! their trials are but just begun. The ruling power in -the fashionable world--the dress-maker--condescends to acknowledge -that the articles selected are all satisfactory, though twenty or even -thirty yards are hardly enough for a full dress (our mothers looked -very fine and far more inviting and graceful with but ten yards in -their dresses). But now comes the great struggle. How shall the dress -be made? Mrs. ---- has twelve small frills or flounces around her -skirt, and a train two feet long; then there must be a bustle “ever -so big,” over which falls a _pannier_, with puffs, bows, buttons -innumerable, bands, folds, and--mercy! we are getting beyond our -depth, for we cannot possibly understand all the terms given to the -piles upon piles of strange “fixings” which go to make up the whole -of that most abominable deformity called a fashionable dress. But the -poor harassed devotee has them all at her tongue’s end, for her heart -is full of them. If Mrs. ---- has a dozen ruffles or puffs, she will -not be outdone, but will have eighteen or twenty, and a bustle twice -as big, which shall extend her overskirt and all its puffs and bands -twice as far; and ever so many more dozen buttons all over,--above, -below, before, behind, between the frills or bows,--_anywhere_, so that -Mrs. ----’s trimmings are surpassed. “But, truly, now, dear madam, is -this the _very_ latest style? Isn’t there something just a _little -newer_?” And then another discussion begins, anxious, nervous, and -trembling, lest some one should be a little ahead of her in style. The -poor slave spends many precious hours before she dares to decide on the -pattern. But at last that question is settled; and now another trouble -assails her. The arrogant dress-maker well understands the power these -devotees of fashion have vested in her hands, and her victims, proud, -sensitive, and overbearing perhaps to all others, must bow to her will -and caprices. She will take her own time to finish the work. - -“But, O madam! I _must_ have it for this party, before any one else has -this new style.” - -She pleads in vain. No coaxing will avail. She must await the despot’s -will, and spend hours or days excited and unhappy, fearing that the -dress will not be finished in season for the party. And when at last -it comes, look at it! We could laugh, were we not ashamed to think -that women can be so absurd. What can be more uncouth, ungraceful, or -deforming than a lady dressed in the extreme of fashion, or indeed with -but half the absurdities that are daily seen. A camel, with its hump -and peculiar gait, is graceful compared with the figures with frowzy -hair, dresses puffed and looped up over a bustle, that we see stooping -and tottering on high-heeled boots, or with the additional incumbrance -of a long trail, sweeping through our parlors, and, at the slightest -beck of fashion, drabbling through the mud. - -Will our women never learn that they are giving health and strength, -almost life, “for that which satisfieth not”? Once in a while, when the -bondage has pressed too heavily, and they sink exhausted on a sick-bed, -some few wake to a dreamy kind of consciousness of their folly; or a -mother, who has endeavored to make her little girl as “fine as the -finest,” is prostrated by giving her strength for this absurd waste of -time and comfort, and begins to see that there is a better way she can -manifest her love for her child. - -A year or two ago we received a letter, from which we will copy a few -sentences:-- - -“I have been trying to get away to the country with my family of two -little girls and the baby; and, that they might appear in as fine -feathers as any other birds, have overworked and gone to bed sick, -instead of being seated in a nice parlor-car, inhaling the pure country -air, as we whirl along, away from the city.... When I was a girl, we -wore _our own hair_; and a white muslin dress, with a fresh ribbon for -a sash, was all that was needed for the largest party. And how we did -enjoy ourselves, and life! The elderly people talked, or played whist, -while the young ones danced right merrily the old, square cotillion, -Virginia reel, etc.; and mirth and pleasure was the _finale_ of many -a day whose early hours had been given to domestic duties, which then -were shared by all at home. _One day_ with a dress-maker, and _no_ -machine, made a dress entire, without fatigue. The “_artiste_” was -often a lady like ourselves, and sat at the same board, and did her -work conscientiously, while the day she passed with us was no dreaded -ordeal, but rather a pleasure to look forward to.... - -“Well, to-day, lying on my bed, overtaxed and overworked, I have been -thinking of these things, and then of other mothers, who, like myself, -spend all their strength in toil, and lie awake all night, ‘too tired -to sleep’; and so employ the wakeful hours in planning work for another -day, using up as fast as possible the precious gift of life, which the -good Father above gave to us.” - -Now, why can we not be content to live happily and easily? I speak not -of the sorrows that from time to time come upon us, when the heart -bleeds, and the wounds quiver long; for the deep scars which tell where -the strain was hardest, tell also of the healing which He who scourges -never fails to bring. _God did it._ - -But the toil of sorrow and care we make for ourselves have no promise -of His relieving. The slavery of fashion, which so often leads to sin, -cannot be carried to his throne, and left there for a blessing. Will -not some one tell us some practical way to begin a reform, to release -us from a bondage which is becoming intolerable? - -It may be to have one ruffle less; to tuck more sparsely the flounce -of even the innermost petticoat, or to sew one yard less edging on a -baby’s shirt. But whatever and wherever the lesson, I pray you begin -it at its A B C; and as it advances, I have faith to believe that -headaches will be lessened, “prostrations” less nervous, appetites and -sleep more regular, and women lift their heads like the flowers after -the rain, glad and grateful. - -We had something to say of the injury done to our little children by -this early training in devotion to fashion; but we must leave that for -another time. - - - - -LXVIII. - -PICKLING AND PRESERVING. - - -IN the preliminary steps to almost all new enterprises there are -“lions in the way,” from which it is very natural, at first, to shrink -back with at least a partial discouragement; and, as a general thing, -the two most formidable “lions” which cross the young housekeeper’s -path are _pickling_ and _preserving_; that is, if she has not, before -marriage, taken part in this work, under her mother’s supervision. -We hear more complaints and repining in this direction than in any -other. Time, strength, and money, it is affirmed, are spent in earnest -endeavors to succeed; but the time and strength are given in vain, and -the money is wasted; so their failures compel them to believe. The -pickles become slimy and moldy; the jelly won’t harden; the sweetmeats -ferment; the canned fruit turns sour. In short, “the troubles and -trials,” writes one, “incident to this portion of housekeeping are -enough to make young girls forswear matrimony, and go into a convent; -only they never will believe in these trials until they are bound; -and then, instead of a convent, a boarding-house would seem the -only alternative, if they would escape manifold vexations; for if a -young housekeeper do not succeed in all her duties, but particularly -with her pickles and preserves, ‘Mrs. Grundy’ is sure to go prying -about, and expose every failure, and these failures are attributed to -shiftlessness, instead of misfortune.” - -We have great sympathy for any one in her first attempt to manage -this portion of fall labor, unless able to secure the support of some -judicious friend familiar with all the minutiæ necessary to accomplish -it creditably. Courage, self-reliance, and a resolute will are of very -great advantage, and can usually carry one successfully through most -difficulties; but experience is, after all, a wonderful assistant in -securing success,--in “making crooked places straight, and the rough -places smooth” and easy. Our household journals and papers are full -of instructions and receipts for preparing every kind of pickles and -preserves; but with all these valuable aids, it will require several -experiments, in most cases, before a beginner can feel that the -difficulty is mastered, and this work stripped of all mystery; once -successfully done, however, it becomes as simple as making bread, -pastry, or cake. - -Still, we cannot but think that too much time and strength are -expended in private families on some parts of this labor. Since this -kind of work is done on a large scale, and these luxuries so cheaply -procured in the many excellent establishments arranged expressly for -the business, and which have reduced the various operations to the -simplest and easiest forms, we feel confident that housekeepers might -relieve themselves of this part of their cares, and be none the poorer -for it; certainly this is true as far as canned fruits and preserves -are concerned. It is but reasonable to suppose that in these large -manufactories, with every appliance and convenience to secure the most -perfect and expeditious work, in many articles they can equal, if not -surpass, the most expert cook or housekeeper. - -The regular, old-fashioned preserve, with “a pound of sugar to a -pound of fruit,” is much less used since the system of canning fruit, -and thus retaining the natural flavor, has been introduced. This is -certainly more healthful, and to most tastes more palatable, than the -rich preserves. The person must be fastidious indeed who could ask -for any sweetmeat more delicious than the pears, peaches, cherries, -and plums that now fill our markets and groceries, and there can be -no doubt that for those who must buy the fruit, and take the labor -and risk of canning it, it is far more economical to buy it from the -factories or grocers ready canned. Even when one has the privilege of -raising one’s own fruit, if it can be sold with reasonable profit we -think it questionable if there is anything saved--any real economy--in -canning the fruit at home, instead of buying it. For those who have -leisure, and do not find it important to be very exact in economizing -strength or money, it is all very well to do everything of this kind -at home. To many whose time hangs heavily on their hands,--and, -mythical as it seems, we suppose there are such,--preserving as much -as they can of every variety of fruit, even to the absurdity of using -watermelon-rinds and cucumbers, is, perhaps, a real pleasure. Though, -while books are to be obtained, and fine flowers and beautiful scenery -to be seen, we cannot comprehend how one can spend time in this work, -simply for the enjoyment of it. But it is all well enough if it gives -pleasure; and doubtless articles prepared with one’s own hands have a -flavor more acceptable than when they are bought ready for use. But -to all housekeepers whose minutes are precious, these labor-saving -manufactories are a great blessing, and the slight difference that may -be recognized in the excellence of the article, when compared with the -home-made, is not to be noticed when we remember the additional time -and ease, to say nothing of health, one secures by buying preserves and -canned fruit from reliable establishments. - -Whether these ideas hold good with regard to pickles, may be somewhat -doubtful. We cannot but think that the large amount of spices, now -so much used in making pickles, is injurious to the health; even -the simplest kind, we are inclined to believe, should be used with -moderation; and as the imported pickles, and those prepared in the -manufactories in this country, are often compounded with articles known -to be injurious, it is safer to make whatever is required in the way of -pickles, whether mixed or plain, at home, under your own eyes. Some of -the various kinds of vinegar now in use, and largely employed in the -factories for pickles, is very injurious. The process of “greening” -pickles is carried on with most reckless disregard of health. A bottle -of small, delicately-greened pickles is very attractive to those who do -not know the poison hidden in them. - -Cider vinegar of the purest quality is the best. But in the process of -making, if pickles are soaked or boiled in a brass kettle, they are -poisoned by the verdigris, or acetate of copper, which is formed by the -action of the vinegar on the brass. Acid dissolves the lead that there -is in the tinning of saucepans, and corrodes copper and brass, and -if it remains in such vessels any length of time the vinegar becomes -very injurious. For these reasons metal kettles should be discarded -in making pickles. When necessary to boil vinegar, use a stone jar on -the stove, and also use _wooden_ spoons and forks. Most suppose that -the delicate green cannot be obtained without the use of alum in the -brine, and in this brine they must be soaked, boiled, and allowed to -cool in a brass kettle half a day. They claim that by thus soaking, the -skin is acted upon by the metal, or acetate of copper, and by soaking -afterward in hot water this poison can be so far removed as to be no -longer injurious. It is said that if soaked long enough in the brass to -bring out the full green, pickles would be dangerously poisoned; and -that one can tell if this has been done by the clear, _light_ green -color; but if, after soaking in the alum and brine, _in brass_, half a -day, and then being removed and soaked in hot water, the action of the -heat turns them a _dark_ grass green, the poison is destroyed. This -may be so, but we prefer pickles made green without the help of brass, -or not green at all. There are ways by which all adulterations may be -discovered. The chemist would find no difficulty in ascertaining; but -very few of those most interested--our housekeepers--are competent, -even if they have time or inclination, to examine these things -scientifically, and therefore it is well to insure against harm in -domestic manufacture by having it fully understood that metal kettles -of every kind should be discarded. - -The many kinds of sweet pickles that have become common within a few -years are, we imagine, less liable to derange the stomach than such -as are spiced highly, and prepared mainly with vinegar. The mixed -pickles--piccalilli, Indian pickle, Bengal pickle or chutney, and -the Chow Chow--are all fiery, and must require an uncommonly strong -digestion to be eaten without injury. - -But each one must judge for himself. Pickles of all kinds will always -be in use, no doubt, and it is well for every housekeeper to know how -they are made. Pickles should be always kept covered with vinegar, and -if at any time there are indications of their becoming moldy, boil up -the vinegar again, adding more spice. Have the jar two thirds full of -pickles, and one third full of vinegar. Keep the jar closely stopped, -as exposure to the air will make them soft. - -In greening pickles (for they can be greened enough without brass) keep -them closely covered while the hot vinegar is on them, so that none of -the steam may evaporate. Boil them only four or five minutes, or it -will take away their strength, and they will soon become soft. - - - - -LXIX. - -WHAT HAS BECOME OF ALL THE LITTLE GIRLS? - - -WE look in vain into many pleasant homes, or into the streets, cars, or -steamers, for what was once a common sight, and was then, and ever must -be, the sweetest object in nature,--a simple, artless _little girl_ -with all the pretty, unaffected ways and manners of unsophisticated -childhood, fresh and beautiful, about her. There is no lack of small -beings, dressed in such a marvelous style that Darwin himself would be -puzzled to make out the class to which they belong; but we find nothing -to remind us of the little girls we used to know, either in dress or -manners. - -In former times a pretty muslin bonnet or a simple close-fitting -cottage straw was thought the most appropriate covering for a little -head, protecting the bright eyes from too intense light, and shielding -the rosy cheeks from the sun’s too fervid kisses; but now, leaving -eyes and cheeks entirely unprotected, we see _something_ placed on -the sunny curls, which is elaborately trimmed with bows, feathers, -a flower-garden, or perhaps a mingling of both; for, although it is -too small for even a good-sized doll, the milliner, with an ingenuity -which would have been praiseworthy if exercised in a more sensible -manner, has contrived to pile up trimming enough to hide even the -faintest suspicion of a bonnet. But, what is sadder than the lack -of true taste and good common-sense in this stylish affair, we see -no semblance of childlike simplicity in the wearer. And the bonnet -is but the beginning of this unfortunate change which we mourn; the -pretty _baby waist_, the plain white dress, the neat muslin or merino, -so appropriate, which little girls used to wear, are supplanted by -incomprehensible garments, the fac-simile of the grand dame’s attire; -flounces, fringes, bows, and double skirts looped and festooned in an -astounding manner; the child’s--no, we mean the _young lady’s_--height -(there are no _children_ in these days) is less than her circumference. -This dress is put on over a hoop, and the “mite” who is made to carry -such an incongruous burden totters about on high-heeled boots. This -tiny specimen of womanhood, hardly weaned from her mother’s breast, or, -more probably, a wet-nurse’s, shakes out her redundant robes, bending -and twisting her small body in grotesque imitation of the women spoken -of by the Prophet Isaiah, “with haughty mien, walking _and mincing -as they go_.” See how the little ape looks over her shoulders as she -tottles about, to be sure that her hoops give her dress and figure the -correct _wiggle_ her sharp eyes have observed in the stylish mother and -her fashionable friends. It is lamentable that all the simplicity and -beauty of babyhood and childhood should be destroyed by fashion. - -Added to the absurdity of the dress, these little women attempt to -discourse on the “latest style”; with their companions or dolls you -will hear them imitating the discussions on this subject that they -daily hear in the parlor or nursery from their mother; or, still -imitating, with a contemptuous toss of their little heads, they will -inform their listeners that they “couldn’t think of ’sociating with -those girls, because they are _not stylish_!” - -A few days since, as we passed out of a store on Broadway, our -attention was arrested by the conversation of two little figures -seated in a fine carriage, waiting, doubtless, for mamma to finish her -shopping. They were dressed in a style positively overwhelming: their -hats were wonders of skill; their gloves had the orthodox number of -buttons, with bracelets over them; a dainty handkerchief, suspended -from a ring attached by a chain to another ring on the little doll-like -fingers,--the dress was simply indescribable. The elder was speaking -to the younger, who, scarcely more than a baby, sat demurely by her -side: “O, mercy, just look at that horrid little girl who is crossing -the street! she has no hoops on, and not a single flounce; no trimming -at all on her dress! and, oh, see her gloves; she has only one button! -Pshaw, she’s nobody,--not a bit of style!” - -The younger lisped a reply, which we lost as we passed on; but it was -painful to think of the training they must have received which enabled -them at that early age to judge a child of their own years so quickly -by the rules of fashionable dress, and because her attire was not in -exact accordance with that week’s style, turn from her with contempt as -something too low for their notice. - -Then, again, how soon a child, taught by daily precept and example, -learns to watch her little companions with envious or exultant feeling, -as the case may be! How quickly she begins to grow hollow-hearted and -deceitful; receiving, as she sees her elders do, a companion with open -arms or a welcoming smile; expressing the greatest affection, but the -moment she leaves begin to criticise or make unkind remarks. - -“I don’t like Nellie one bit, mamma; she’s such a proud, stuck-up -thing! I suppose she thought I should feel bad ’cause her dress had -more trimming, and was a little newer style than mine. I didn’t let -her know that I noticed it. But I do think it real mean, mamma, that -she should have nicer things than mine. Papa is twice as rich as her -father. It made me mad to see her show off her dress; and she kept -looking at mine and sister’s in such a way.” - -“I hope, my dear, you were polite to Nellie.” - -“O yes! but, mamma, I was awful glad when she left; though I was just -as smiling and pleasant as could be to her face.” - -“That’s a good girl. You must always be very polite and cordial to your -companions, you know. But I must say I think Nellie was quite vain; and -you must never show that you are proud of your clothes. I shall go out -to-morrow and get you that pretty dress you teased so for, I think!” - -“O mamma, I am so glad! And as soon as it is made I’ll go right over -and call on Nellie. Won’t she feel bad when she sees my new dress! It -will be ever so much prettier than hers.” - -And the mother smiled complacently, with never a thought of the wicked -feelings she was cultivating in her child. O mothers! how can you be -so blind! Both by precept and example you are teaching your children -to make dress their idol, and to know very little of anything but that -which pertains to fashion; to be envious or contemptuous of their -little friends and companions, according as they are dressed better or -worse than themselves. Can you ever reflect that God did not commit -such treasures to your keeping without meaning some day to call upon -you to render up the account of your stewardship? What can you say, -when asked how you have trained the young souls given to your care? -Can you reply, “We have been instant in season and out of season in -teaching them,”--what? To work for the good of others; to learn to do -right; in all simplicity to love and obey the Saviour, who, taking a -little child in his arms, said, “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” -_Of such?_ Ah, no! Not of such children as those; you are training to -avoid, not evil communications, but unfashionable companions; to look -on the outward adorning, and not on the heart. - -But it is not alone the worldly-minded who make no pretence to any -higher law than their own selfish gratification, who bow the knee to -fashion. Christian mothers, are you guiltless? Think of the time, -the health and strength given to dress; the bondage which compels -you to pervert all real taste, to do violence to your own natural -instincts of neatness and true elegance, and accept the absurdities -of fashion, simply because the ruling style requires it. If you are -thus influenced and beguiled, do you flatter yourselves that your -children will not, from their earliest years, regard such homage as -important? We do not think it wrong to dress neatly and in as good -taste as possible. We blame none for giving so much thought to their -own dress and their children’s as to provide those articles that are -appropriate and becoming to the different styles of face, figure, and -complexion. It is natural, and we think right, for a mother to dress -her darlings as neatly and prettily as she can, without unnecessary -waste of time and strength; but we do think it sin to spend money and -time lavishly in following the dictates of fashion, and not of good -taste and common-sense; no one pretends to believe that there is either -of these in the present style of dressing. It is utterly destitute -of grace; is ridiculous to the last degree; but _fashion_ compels, -and women--_Christian women_--obey, and teach their little daughters -like obedience! O, the money, time, and strength given to destroy, -by the absurdities of fashionable dress, every vestige of beauty and -grace which God gave you in your little ones! Take the week through, -hour by hour, do you not give more time and thought to your own and -your children’s dress than you can spare for your Master’s service? -Do not your children gather from your daily walk and conversation -that to be fashionably dressed is of more importance than loving and -serving the Saviour, who died for them and you? Judging by your daily -conversation, which will they think of the greatest importance, the -service of God, or devotion to fashion? To which do they see you -giving the largest part of your time, the adorning of their little -bodies,--“the plaiting the hair, the wearing of gold, and putting on -of apparel,”--or in teaching them that which is not changeable, “not -corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is, -in the sight of God, of great price”? What can you say, fashionable -Christian mother, when He calls you to give an account of your -stewardship? - - - - -LXX. - -PROCRASTINATION. - - -AN inclination to put off till to-morrow that which were more -appropriately done to-day seems quite natural to almost every one, -but it is one of the symptoms of depravity, and the earlier it is -fought and conquered the better. There are some sensible mothers whose -constant endeavor is to prevent this habit from gaining a foothold in -their children’s characters. From earliest childhood they watch and -nip it in the bud. Those who have lived an active life--every moment -claiming its own special work--are the mothers who can best train -their children to understand the full value of the prompt, regular -performance of each duty, however small. - -“Come, little one, it is time to get up.” The child is perhaps -disinclined, thinks one more little nap would be comfortable. But it is -time to prepare for breakfast, and what is gained by delay is nothing -but the first lesson in selfish indulgence and procrastination. The -child does not need it. If it went to bed, as it should have done, -when the birds folded their heads under their wings, it requires no -more sleep. A few gentle words or caresses will soon chase all traces -of slumber from those bright eyes, and the little one, merry as the -birds, is soon ready for breakfast. - -While children are very young begin this education, and see that it is -distinctly understood that no excuse but illness can avail. They must -be up at a given hour, and by the time they are twelve years old you -will find it difficult to keep your little girls and boys in bed beyond -the regular time. You have thus established a habit of early rising -which will cling to them through life; that is, if their mother gently -and lovingly impressed upon their minds what they would lose by delay -and gain by promptness. But, although a stern and severe compulsion -may secure obedience while under your eye, by that course you make the -act so disagreeable and repulsive, by associating it with your stern -manner, that they are tempted to rush to the other extreme whenever -they can do so with impunity. - -Children naturally love play better than work or study; but it is -better that they early learn that there is something besides play which -even little girls and boys can and must do. They, of course with no -evil intention, will be inclined to stretch the play hour or recess -a little beyond the appointed time. It is the parent’s duty to watch -and guard against this, not on account of the real good which a young -child might accomplish in these few extra moments, but for the sake -of establishing a habit which will be of infinite service for the -child in after years, that the discipline, though for the present not -joyous, may work for its future happiness and usefulness. Therefore, -make the hours for recreation as frequent as seems necessary, only let -it be distinctly understood that when that time expires there must be -no delay, no procrastination. As the child grows older and able to -exercise a little judgment, it will soon become conscious of the loss -incurred by dilatoriness, and the gain secured by a prompt performance -of duty. A judicious mother will soon teach it how to contrast the -two modes of action, and a few unfortunate experiments will fully -corroborate her teachings. The penalty to be paid for leaving any duty -which should be done _now_ until “by and by,” generally follows very -speedily after the omission. - -When quite young we were given a piece of work one morning which should -not have occupied an hour’s time. In the afternoon our brothers were to -go to a neighboring town in a sleigh, and we were promised a ride with -them, on condition that this work was finished in season. It was a rich -treat, and we were greatly elated. The work we were set to do was so -easy we made merry over the idea of a failure. But the sun did shine -so brightly, and it was so pleasant to stand at the east windows and -watch the men at the huge wood-pile, sawing and splitting the winter -store of wood; and it was such fun to see the old gander chase our -little roguish brother away from the place where the stately old fellow -kept watch and ward over his mate on her nest, that every few minutes -our sewing was forgotten and we were seated on the old-fashioned -window-sill. A gentle voice often reminded us that we were wasting -time, and must be left behind if that simple seam were not finished in -season. - -“O mother! I can finish it just as easy!” - -“Yes, dear, if you work steadily, but not if you delay in this manner.” -Dear, patient mother! How much easier for her to have taken our -neglected work and done it herself than to keep such a vigilant watch -over a giddy girl; but for a child’s good a mother bears all things. - -Time flew by, unregarded by our idle fingers. Presently a sleigh dashed -up to the door, the bells jingling merrily. It cannot be time! But a -cheery voice rang out, “Come, sister, not a minute to spare,”--and -that little, little bit of work not quite done! - -“O mother, mother! only a few more stitches! See! O mother, let me go!” -But, even while we uttered this piteous wail, we knew that mother could -not break her word. When she took her sobbing little girl on her lap, -and explained how necessary it was that we should suffer the penalty -of our persistent procrastination, if we would ever destroy this bad -habit, we were conscious that her grief was deeper than our own, that -she suffered with us. We did not soon forget that lesson, and it did -not require many similar ones to effect a pretty substantial cure. - -No one is more strongly tempted to put off till a more convenient -season, here and there, some minor duty, than a housekeeper whose -cares are many, and helpers very few. By afternoon she is so weary, -rest would be very pleasant, but just as she thinks she may indulge in -one half-hour’s quiet, some little item rises up that should receive -attention to-day. “I have half a mind to let it pass till to-morrow,” -but to-morrow has it own duties, and unexpected ones may arise. A few -experiments in this most excusable of all procrastinations will teach -the folly of the attempt to add to the already filled register of the -next day’s work the duties of the present time. - -The clothes are brought up from the wash; on sorting them out and -putting them in place, you find a small hole in this article or a rip -in that. You are very tired, your head aches; to thread your needle and -mend those few small rips or holes seems a burden. “It is so little -I’ll let it go till next week, one week’s more wear can’t make much -difference.” And it is laid aside unmended. How is it when it next -comes up from the laundry? A huge rent or a most appalling hole is -the result. A heavy wind arose when the clothes were on the line, and -with every snap a dozen more stitches were added to the work that -procrastination has cost you, if indeed the garment is not ruined past -any repairing. “A stitch in time saves nine.” - -Some friends have just left your house. During their visit much work -accumulated, while you felt bound to entertain your guests. Either you -are with no help, or your servants are very busy, and you say, “I’ll -take off the soiled linen from the bed, and leave the room to air a few -days, or till a more convenient season.” - -The airing is all very proper, but two or three days are not needed -for it, and, if you leave the bed unmade, you will not find it wise -or at all labor-saving in the end. Let the room and bed air until you -are ready to take off the sheets and pillow-cases that need to be -changed. When you go up to do that, take with you the clean articles, -and being there, why not finish the work and leave all in order? But, -if instead of that you say, “We’ll put the ‘spare chamber’ in order -to-morrow,” perhaps just as you are retiring, a carriage stops at your -door, and guests quite unexpected arrive, who find it convenient to -stop with you overnight, to be ready for the morrow’s train, and late -in the evening the guest-chamber must be prepared. Just try this once -or twice,--you’ll not care to try it oftener,--and see if some one -don’t come unannounced just as, when tired and sleepy, you are ready to -retire. Will it be any easier to do the work which was put off till a -“more convenient season,” at this late hour, than it would have been to -have finished it at the proper time? - -“There is hardly enough bread to last through to-morrow.” - -“Well, it is stormy; we sha’n’t be likely to have company to-morrow. I -guess this will answer, or we will stir up some biscuit if needed.” - -In spite of wind or weather, be sure if you risk the delay you will -have unexpected guests, and will regret that you neglected to be ready -for the emergency. - -“Here are some letters which should be answered immediately.” - -“I guess it won’t make much difference if I leave them till to-morrow. -I am very busy now.” So you wait. Are you any less busy to-morrow? A -headache, or a sick child, or company prevents an answer then. Your -correspondent waits anxiously for your reply, the failure of which may -be the cause of great inconvenience. - -We could multiply examples, but your own experience will fill up -the picture, and, if you are wise, teach you that each day has its -own duties, which can be mastered; but if you add to them the work -of yesterday you make the burden grievous to be borne. Your old -“copy-books” told you, when you were young, that _Procrastination is -the thief of time_. In riper age remember it. “Never put off till -to-morrow that which you should do to-day.” - - - - -LXXI. - -THE SUREST REMEDY. - - -TO the troubles and annoyances which befall housekeepers there is no -end, if they are obliged to rely on servants for comfort and peace of -mind. In social gatherings the conversation often turns on the trials -they experience from this part of their household. It is not at all -strange that it should be so, for “out of the abundance of the heart -the mouth speaketh,” and verily in this particular the heart has ample -reasons for being abundantly filled, and there is no end to just cause -of complaint. - -One girl is a good worker, but impudent; another is always willing, -but very untidy. This one is neat, but so slow that her work is never -finished. That one is unequaled in order and efficiency, but her temper -is so uncertain you cannot make a suggestion without risking a storm -that quite destroys all the pleasure her excellent work might otherwise -afford you. One is extravagant and wasteful; another economical in -using materials for your family, but dishonest in appropriating your -property for her own benefit. - -So, in a company of a dozen ladies, one takes up the discourse as the -other ends, and, without exaggeration, proves her own trials even more -vexatious than her neighbors’. It is possible that the mistress, by -searching, may find some slight symptoms of these very defects in her -own character. The least said on that side of the question the better, -perhaps. But, as we once heard a lady say, “We don’t hire servants for -that sort of actions.” - -But, whatever may be the defects of the mistress, we know there -are very strong foundations on which to build the complaints about -servants; for it cannot be denied that these “troublesome comforts” -have it in their power to diminish the sum of domestic happiness, -to a degree which requires much grace and patience to endure with -equanimity; and that the power they have usurped is on the increase -will not, we imagine, be gainsaid. Once the employés in the family -fully understood the position they were engaged to fill in their -employer’s house; and knew that certain service was paid for, which -must be strictly and honestly rendered, or they would lose their place, -and having lost it, unrecommended, would find it difficult to secure -another. Once--and the time is not so far distant but that most of us -can still remember it--one girl was expected to do the work that we are -now compelled to employ three to do. And this one girl did the work, -and did it well,--far better than we can hope to have it done now. She -was not injured by it; no complaints were made, we mean in ordinary -cases,--in every station some may be found who abuse power and cruelly -oppress those whom circumstances have placed in an inferior position; -but these are only solitary cases; as a general thing there was no -ground for complaint. The service was kindly and cheerfully rendered. -But now, with three or four girls, the work drags, is imperfectly done, -and “the work is too hard” is the constant cry. Why is this? What -reason can be assigned for a change so complete and annoying? - -In part because the foreigners who land on our shores, and upon whom, -unfortunately, we are obliged to depend for all labor which we cannot -do ourselves, come to us with strange ideas of what is meant by all -being “free and equal”; or, if you take one right from the emigrant -vessel, it requires but a few weeks for those of their nation, who, -having been here longer, think themselves better informed, to impart -their knowledge, and teach erroneous ideas of these rights. Under such -bad influence it takes but a short time for the modest stranger, whom -you received into your house and endeavored to teach a correct mode -of labor, to be transformed both in dress and manners into a bold, -self-willed girl. Her countrywomen gather about her and warn her not to -be “put upon,”--a favorite phrase among those whose chief aim is to get -the highest price for the least labor. “Stand up for your rights”; and -they proceed to expound a code of “rights” which, if they were allowed -to carry into practice, would soon leave us entirely at their mercy. - -They are told to insist upon just so many times at church, and certain -days “out.” Then the funerals--and there never was such mortality as -is always happening among our servants’ relations, particularly the -cousins--and the weddings, and the baptism of infants for which our -girls are to stand “sponsors,” all come upon us in quick succession. -Then, every step of the work each girl is expected to do must be -carefully defined, and you are not to be allowed to call upon them, on -any condition, for one thing over and above the specified labor. - -How has this class of persons succeeded in taking and maintaining such -a stand? In part it has grown up, gradually, from seeing in their -employers the independence that is a distinctive peculiarity in our -national character. But that which, when rightly regulated, is a noble -thing, when used by uninformed and undisciplined minds, for selfish -ends, is not likely to bring forth the most desirable results. - -But is not the trouble and disturbance through our servants, which -particularly characterizes the present day, in part the fault of the -_ignorance_ of the mistress? Our ladies give much less attention to -domestic affairs than in former times; and our young ladies are growing -up, for the most part, poor housekeepers. The material for the very -best of servants may be easily ruined by a poor mistress. Much time -and money is expended on the education of our girls; but that part of -education which would help to keep them strong and healthful is almost -entirely ignored,--we mean regular work, at stated times, about the -house; not only to establish good health, but to secure a thorough -knowledge of domestic operations. - -“What time has a young girl to do anything at home?” True. What time -for home affairs, with the present mode of education, and the present -customs of social life, have young men or maidens? Our teachers know -they are expected to “fill” their pupils to the utmost extent of their -mental capacity, and social life grasps every moment that can be spared -from books or schools, even claiming the hours that should be given -to sleep. No matter about the health. “That is not our business,” say -the educators; and, “That is not our business,” echoes Fashion. Our -children go from one study to another--rushing on to be educated--as -fast as possible; and, in two years after leaving college or seminary, -of what practical use will half these studies, for which they have -given so much time and health, be to them? Far be it from us to -undervalue a thorough, practical education,--one that will fit our boys -and girls to lead good and useful lives. “Its price is above rubies.” -But we sometimes think that they are being educated to death; mind and -body enfeebled and made unhealthy for lack of practical common-sense on -the part of parents and teachers. If more time was given to physical -labor while our children are growing up, and less time to schools, and -fewer studies crowded into each term, the fathers and mothers would not -grow old so fast,--being relieved of part of their work; and our young -people would have nobler minds in sounder bodies. - -But to return to housekeeping, and the young who must take that -position: let them secure as much knowledge as they can without injury -to health, but let it be understood that, whatever place they may -be called upon to occupy, a thorough domestic education will be the -best foundation on which to build, and by which they can best secure -happiness, honor, and usefulness. - -Instead of filling the papers with lamentations because they are not -permitted certain rights which an unregulated ambition urges them to -claim, let our women first be certain that they fully understand how -to exercise all the _rights_ which are unalienably their own, and -which no one attempts to dispute. Let these rights be well cared for -and properly executed, and who will object to any woman’s reaching out -after, and securing just as many more as she can possibly assume and -manage successfully, without neglect of other duties already her own. -Let the highest right, the noblest that woman can desire,--for it is -next to the angels’,--the _supreme right_ which God gave us, and no -man disputes or can usurp, be fully appreciated and acted upon,--the -right to make a glorious _home_, to make our husbands nobler, because -they are happy and comfortable there (they don’t know how to do that, -they can’t take care of themselves without us); the right to nurse and -rear and bless our children; the right, with the ability, to teach our -servants by our own practice how to be a blessing to themselves and to -us. Then enter the lists, if you choose, and do battle for just as many -of what have been called _man’s rights_ as you are capable of managing -well, or have any ambition for. - -Until these first duties are understood and properly performed the -prospects for home comforts and happiness are very shadowy. The fault -is not wholly with the servants. If those duties which belong to the -mistress are delegated to uneducated, ill-informed subordinates, what, -even with the very best intentions, can you expect but anarchy and -misrule? Care and experience are as essential to good housekeeping and -home comforts as in any other profession or field of labor. - -The lawyer cannot look for success in his profession if he simply opens -an office and delegates the care to an ignorant office-boy, while he -himself knows nothing about law, and never studies. The doctor gives -years of time and study before he attempts to practice. The merchant -goes through a long apprenticeship before he commences business for -himself; but our young girls leave the school-room to assume a _right_ -of which they know nothing,--the privilege and honor of making a -_home_. If women would only understand how much skill and power is -requisite, what a noble, honorable thing it is to succeed, or become -eminent as a _homemaker_, there would be fewer boarding-houses, fewer -miserable, dissipated husbands, fewer fast, wild, reckless children, -and fewer worthless servants. - - - - -LXXII. - -A FEW LITTLE THINGS. - - -WE take up now a few perplexities which are apt to disturb the -equanimity of the young housekeeper, and propose to give some minute -directions for the better performance of those “little things” which so -often discourage the beginner, such as the building of fires, dusting, -etc. - -With an open grate or fireplace in daily use, it is very necessary, -before any dusting can be thought of, to clear out the grate, remove -the ashes, and kindle the fire; for nothing so fills a room with -dust as the necessary work about a fire of any kind, even with the -most careful management. To be ready to do this, or in a condition -to instruct a girl how to do it, it is important that the necessary -implements and conveniences should be on hand, and in a suitable -condition for easy and successful operation. - -And, first, a coarse piece of bagging, or an old bit of carpeting, -or, if you have neither, a large piece of stout brown wrapping-paper, -should be kept in an appropriate place, ready for this part of the -morning’s work; even old newspapers will answer, though by no means so -convenient or durable as bagging. Spread a large strip before the grate -or fireplace to protect the oil-cloth or carpet from ashes and cinders -while you are clearing out the grates. This done, lift up the fender or -polished hearth-pan, always in front of a grate, and set it down on the -floor-cloth or bagging. Put up the blower, and with the poker rake out -all the ashes that can be shaken from the under part of the grate. By -keeping the blower up while doing this, most of the ashes which would -otherwise float over the room, lodge in the furniture or carpet, and -in the end do them much injury, will be made to fly up chimney. Having -thus removed all the ashes, you can take the blower down and rake again -smartly from the _top_ until only the half-burnt coals remain. - -Now, with a stout, coarse holder kept expressly for that purpose, take -the ash-pan, full of ashes, from under the grate, and empty it in an -ash-barrel in the cellar, or outdoors; by no means empty them from -the pan into an empty coal-hod in the room, as is too often done. Be -careful that no live coals go into the barrel. You will be obliged to -watch a girl very carefully about this “little thing,” or, under the -silly idea that it saves work, most girls will do this so carelessly -when you are not by, that your rooms will be filled with ashes by their -folly. - -When the ashes have been emptied, if your grate rests on _cleats_ or -is fitted into _sockets_, lift it off and turn into the ash-pan the -half-burned coals which remain, to be taken out and sifted before using -again; then, placing the grate on the bagging, with a small whisk-broom -proceed to brush down into the pan all the soot and ashes that have -lodged on the sides and back of the fireplace. Do this gently, so as to -avoid sending it out into the room. When done, remove the pan, sweep up -any ashes or litter that may be on the hearth, wash it clean, and put -back the grate and ash-pan into their proper places. Set up the fender, -roll up a quantity of waste paper and put into the grate (if thrown in -loosely it will burn out instantly before the kindling catches), put -on the kindling, and start the fire. If where you can get _coke_ from -the gas-houses for the foundation of the fire, it will, we think, prove -good economy, for you will need but two or three pieces of kindling, as -it ignites readily without a blower, making a very warm fire, and soon -causing the hard coal to burn brightly. - -Here, also, great watchfulness is requisite if you trust to a servant -to start fires, for, unless closely followed, they will persist in half -filling the grate with kindling, even when they are provided with coke, -and need to use but very little wood. In the city, where wood is so -dear, economy in kindling-wood becomes quite important. - -The fire having been kindled, the rooms can now be set in order. Of -course the window-blinds were opened the first thing after dressing in -the morning, that gas or lamps might not be left to burn needlessly. We -are tempted to stop, before dusting, and say a word on the extravagant -use of gas or oil by the servants about a house, but we must leave -that for another time, and proceed to finish the first part of every -morning’s work. - -In _dusting_, a soft but not too fine cloth should be first used. At -almost all dry-goods stores cloths are to be had with soft, tufted nap, -especially adapted for dusters; but an old towel may be kept for that -purpose, and answers very well if you cannot obtain these. Gently wipe -_up_ with the dusting-cloth whatever ashes or dust may have settled -over the mantel or furniture, but do not wipe it _off_ on to the floor -to settle again into the carpet or furniture in the room,--that would -be spending time for naught,--and as you proceed take it up into the -dust-cloth, and every little while shake it out of the window or door. -In this way go over everything _once_, that the greatest part of -the dust may be disposed of, being particular to wipe in and around -moldings, carvings, and cornices, where dust seems more inclined to -rest than on the plainer surfaces. This finished, go over all again -with an old silk handkerchief or chamois-skin, rubbing hard enough to -remove spots or finger-marks, and bring a nice clean polish on the -furniture or ornaments in the room. If you have pictures hung round the -walls, a long-handled feather-brush is quite necessary, especially if -the room is high studded, as city rooms generally are at the present -day. You cannot spare the time every morning to bring in a step-ladder -in order to dust the tops of the picture-frames or the casings and -moldings over and around doors and windows; but if left some days -untouched, the moths will soon find it out and take up their abode in -such desirable quarters. The long feather-brush will easily remove most -of the light dirt that settles in such high places, but do not use it -with a sharp, quick flourish, as whatever dust lodges so high cannot -be taken _up_ with the coarse dusting-cloth, and must, of course, if -disturbed, fall to the floor, but if brushed off rashly, will fly over -everything. For this reason the tops of pictures and doors should be -dusted first, that there may be an opportunity to remove whatever -settles unavoidably when going over other parts of the room. - -Every three or four weeks the tall step-ladder is needed, and then all -these places which cannot be reached otherwise must be well cleaned -and rubbed, and the casings of windows and doors wiped clean with a -wet cloth. This work, when done, must always be _after_ the regular -sweeping-days. - -Windows require attention every day; we do not mean, to be washed -every day, but to be dusted and have the spots carefully rubbed off. -The dust from the streets finds easy entrance, and settles readily -on the window-panes, which would soon become dim and blurred without -daily oversight. Especially is this the case in damp weather, or -when one lives near salt air. Brush each window with a short-handed -feather-brush, if you have one; if not, save and dry turkeys’ wings, -or the long tail-feathers from any poultry, tie them up neatly, and -you secure an inexpensive feather-brush, and as effective as if bought -at the store. If you find spots or finger-marks on the window-glass, -put your mouth to the spot and breathe sharply on it; then, before -your breath evaporates, rub quickly with a clean linen cloth or a -chamois-skin, and you will be well repaid for your labor. - -It requires some time and many words to explain, as minutely as you -wish, how all these _little things_ should be done; but if you are -methodical, you will soon learn to work quickly as well as thoroughly, -and will be very much surprised to see how short a time is needed to -do all that we have been so long telling. You will use less time, take -the month through, by careful dusting and necessary cleaning each day -than--neglecting this duty--you would be compelled to give every few -weeks in one great cleaning effort, by which the whole family must be -incommoded, meals delayed, poorly cooked, or dispensed with altogether -for the time being, because it is “cleaning day.” No wonder husbands -shrink from such days, preferring dirty rooms all the time to having -clean ones, for which they pay such unsatisfactory premiums. A little -quiet care and cleaning every day will, we think, secure the largest -amount of freedom, and certainly much more pleasure and happiness for -all, than these dreaded days of confusion and discomfort. - - - - -LXXIII. - -PLANNING FOR THE WEEK. - - -NOTHING so simplifies labor as a well-defined, regular plan for each -day’s specific duties. At first, to one unaccustomed to systematic -work, it may be difficult to get into the track, and follow the route -until it is so familiar that it becomes almost second nature. But -with each effort, duties thus methodically performed will be easier, -and when the plan you design to follow has been well digested, and -each part so adapted as to reach toward the good of the whole, labor -will not only be greatly diminished, but a positive pleasure in the -performance of duties so perfectly organized will be the crowning -reward. - -Yet to arrange a plan for each day requires thought and judgment, -and she must be a wonderful character who, from the beginning, can -so perfect a code of laws for the regular discharge of household -labor, that no modification or change will be necessary. If a young -housekeeper, at the end of one year’s trial, begins to feel somewhat at -home in her dominions, she should be well content, nor allow a shadow -of discouragement to mar her comfort, even if now and then she finds -her carefully planned rules requiring some little adjustment, to secure -a smooth and easy action. _Try_, and _reject_, until you have secured a -plan by which _you_, the mistress, can best manage others, or yourself -perform the work. No one can tell you by what rules you can best govern -your domains. Suggestions may be given, which will be of great service -in enabling you to arrive at the desired results in the most successful -and expeditious manner; but further than that, _the work to do is -yours, and not another’s_. Each one must work out the problem of what -is best for herself individually, with what aid she can glean from the -experience of others, according as it shall be congenial, or adapted to -her own peculiar way of working and her own peculiar position. - -Even those daughters who are fresh from the wise instructions of a -mother, who led them with her through a daily round of cares until they -are as skillful in domestic management as she is herself, will not -find, when they enter the marriage state, the duties of their new homes -exactly like those of their mother. Many things may, and doubtless -will, compel a somewhat different administration, although the -fundamental principles will be still the same. The husband’s position -may demand change in the mode of proceedings to which she has, from -childhood, been accustomed. His tastes or means may render it advisable -that the wife should modify or enlarge her rules for the performance -of domestic duties. The desired change may, from necessity, or from -_whims_, which for permanent happiness she will be wise to humor, be so -abrupt and entire as to require almost a new mode of action and labor, -calling for much deliberation before it can be perfectly satisfactory; -and of course this will be almost like commencing an education from the -beginning. - -Different homes and diverse tastes demand, and justly, to be regulated -on somewhat different plans. New duties, and new modes of performing -them, are opened to the young housekeeper, however efficient she may -have been in all domestic affairs under her mother’s eye; but this -should be no reason for discouragement or self-reproach. Put the mother -in the daughter’s place, and she might find it equally strange, and no -easier to rearrange her code of laws for domestic labor, only so far -as age and longer experience has taught her more wisdom and greater -facility in regulating household affairs. But whatever the style or -position, there is none, however high or low, that is not improved and -the work simplified by systematic arrangement. Let each day of the week -have its own peculiar work, modified or varied, of course, by changes -which cannot be foreseen,--such as sickness, absence of part of the -family, unexpected company, invited guests, or holidays. - -And here let us say, it is desirable, when you invite friends to dinner -or tea, that you choose such days as are the least filled with work -which cannot be well set aside,--such as washing, ironing, etc.,--so -that you may take time for entertaining your guests, without the burden -of feeling that you are compelled to leave for to-morrow the work that -should have been done to-day, and, by so doing, to lay up for yourself -too heavy burdens and unsettle the regular course of labor for the rest -of the week. - -We do not propose to give rules for any one. That would be quite -impossible, as so much depends on the taste of the master and mistress, -the number of the family, and of the servants employed. But there are -a few things which, in our opinion, will make the work easier, and -increase the comfort of all concerned. For instance, on Saturday all -the clothes for changes should be laid out, so that the Sabbath may -find us arrayed in spotless garments. And this being done, as all the -soiled clothes are ready, it would seem that Monday must, almost of -necessity, be set apart as the established _washing-day_. Of course, -if one has a laundry distinct from the kitchen, as soon as the washing -and ironing of one week is finished, the range will be cleaned out, -ashes brushed off, kindling laid, and floor scrubbed, all for the next -week; and if everything is thus in order, it must be an uncommonly -large family if the washing is not all done, clothes-lines and pins -brought in, and, in winter, coarse clothes sprinkled and folded, in -good time on Monday night. This should be Monday’s work, somewhat -modified, perhaps, according to the help employed in this department. -When two or three girls are employed in one house, as we have before -said, we do not think it the most comfortable way for the _cook_ to -take charge of the washing. Let her help, if necessary, as she may -find time; but if she first performs her regular duties, the family -will be more comfortable; and if the second girl has charge of the -washing, the clothes will, or should be, more satisfactorily done by -one steady hand. Let Tuesday be for ironing. Wednesday the chambermaid -and laundress will need for cleaning the laundry and halls, wiping -off finger-marks from doors, and any chamber-work which did not -receive particular attention Monday or Tuesday. The cook will need by -Wednesday to clean up her tins, floors, closets, or if company or the -family require, to do some extra cooking. On Thursday the silver should -be carefully looked over and polished by chamois-skin, after washing in -_hot_ soapsuds, or with whiting if any brown spots are found. Friday -is the best day for sweeping, and seeing that mattresses and bedsteads -are free from dust; which, if left to accumulate, will breed moths and -other vermin. Saturday may be employed in cleaning parlors, washing -windows, polishing door-handles, bell-pulls, and stair-rods, and a -thorough oversight of the house generally. - -These items are only by way of suggestions, to be filled up or -discarded as the housekeeper’s judgment, taste, or position may deem -advisable. We only claim that, having once examined and become fully -persuaded in your own mind what your position and the comfort of your -family demand, you should settle upon some well-considered plan, and -then determine to carry it into practice, as far as possible, with -promptness and regularity. Take time to consider; _try, and try again_; -but having settled what is best, act upon it without flinching. - - - - -LXXIV. - -SHOPPING. - - -WE have heard from ladies remarks like the following: “Before I was -married, and cares and responsibilities became more and more exacting -every year, there was nothing I used to enjoy more than roaming from -shop to shop, seeing everything that was to be seen, but without the -responsibility of purchasing, because my mother always attended to -that. My shopping in those days was only to gratify curiosity. But -now it must be done in earnest, without shopping for sight-seeing or -loitering,--the only desirable part of the business.” - -Now, I cannot but think this waste of time and gratification of a -childish curiosity in young women altogether wrong. The amount of -“shopping,” as it is called, done from no necessity, but only to while -away the time, is very great, particularly by young ladies who have -no intention of purchasing. While there are books to be read, sewing -to be done, mothers to be helped, and their burdens lightened by -their daughters’ loving care, and painting, drawing, and music to be -practiced, we don’t understand how time can hang heavy on one’s hands. -Pleasant walks and rides, lectures, concerts, and picture-galleries, -can surely furnish all the exercise and recreation that is needed or -at all desirable, and will be much more conducive to the improvement -of the mind and strengthening of the body than this too prevalent -custom of sauntering through the streets, gazing into the windows, or -visiting the stores, looking at and handling everything one fancies, -but buying nothing. Many evils spring from this absurd method of -_taking exercise_, or wasting time. There can be no healthy exercise -in loitering in a crowded and perhaps ill-lighted, poorly ventilated -store; for capacious, airy, and well-ventilated establishments are not -common. The effect of such dissipation on the mind and character cannot -be ennobling. To watch and criticise the people who pass, to remark on -their dress, manners, and peculiarities, is almost certain to establish -an unkind, censorious habit, and, in the end, make those who practice -it confirmed gossips,--the most unlovable and unsafe of all characters. -A love of dress; a desire to imitate or surpass those who are the most -extravagant in their outlays; an envious disposition; dissatisfaction -with their own condition and the income allowed for their dress; -longing to cast aside good clothes and secure the newest and most -stylish, every time the shopping farce is performed,--are some of the -evils which, it is to be feared, will grow out of this propensity; -and added to this, another still more to be deprecated,--the selfish -disregard for the feelings and interests of others. - -It is painful to observe with what recklessness our young ladies will -sit at a counter and call for one piece of goods after another, until -the shelves before them are almost entirely stripped,--tossing one -article here and another there, throwing heavy goods upon delicate -articles, while the perplexed clerk endeavors to hide his anxiety, and -shield his wares from harm, in the most gentlemanly and unobtrusive -manner; but his politeness and delicacy are wasted, for this class of -shoppers care little for the discomfort of a clerk. - -In this manner they flit from counter to counter, wasting not only -their own time, but that of the employés in the store, and exciting -false hopes of a good sale, and then, without a word of apology for the -trouble they have given, leave that store to go through the same folly -at other establishments. - -A few days since we witnessed a most provoking display of this manner -of wasting time, and by no means an uncommon occurrence. All the -room for some distance on one side of the store, and two or three -of the clerks, were monopolized by a party of young girls,--we fear -they thought themselves entitled to be addressed as _young ladies_. -The earnestness with which they called for one class of goods after -another warranted the attendants in anticipating a large sale; but when -woolens, silks, linens, ribbons, and laces were heaped around them in -great abundance, and many really earnest purchasers had been kept long -waiting for attendance, or, not having time, had been obliged to go -elsewhere, these girls carelessly rose and turned to leave. - -“I am sorry we can show you nothing satisfactory,” courteously remarked -one of the clerks. - -“O, we didn’t come in to buy,--only to look around,” replied the -leader of this ill-mannered party, with a scornful air; and an absurd, -silly giggle went through the party as they left the store, evidently -satisfied that they had had a good time and played off a smart joke on -the clerks. - -The expression of disappointment suddenly changed to contempt, visible -among the young men who had so politely waited upon those thoughtless -girls, was very significant of their estimate of such characters. If -their mothers could have seen the whole performance, and, giving each a -_good shaking_, sent them home to learn good manners, and a proper use -of time by a term of labor in the kitchen, we should have been thankful. - -But in the case of the “mother and housekeeper,” who inquires how -real, earnest, practical shopping may be disarmed of its terrors, and -made easy and simple, we would say there is nothing easier if you -begin right. Before leaving home on a shopping expedition, be “fully -persuaded in your own mind” that you know just what you want, what -you must have, and how much you are willing and can afford to pay -for what you desire to purchase. Make out a plain list that you can -understand at a glance, and when you enter the store call first for -the _must-haves_, examine the quality and pattern, and ascertain if -the price is such as to justify you in buying. Then, if satisfied on -those points, look at various patterns of the same fabric and price, -and select the one that pleases you the most perfectly, and, naming -the quantity and place to send, pass on to other departments. Don’t -allow your attention to wander to anything but the article under -consideration, until you have decided that item. If it is a dress, -examine and decide before looking at sheeting or table linen or -anything else. That settled, pass on to the next topic on your list, -and so continue until you have finished the work you had arranged to -do. Then, if you have a little leisure, you can look about you at the -various articles displayed, gratifying your love of fine things, and -gaining an insight into the quality and price of articles you may need -in time; only take care that when your purchases are finished, you do -not interfere with other purchasers, or engross the time of busy clerks -unduly. In making out a list, classify the articles you are intending -to buy, putting groceries, crockery, books, dry goods, etc., each by -themselves, and begin at the nearest place. By this method you will -save yourself much time and fatigue. - -These are very simple rules; but try them and see if shopping is any -longer a duty to be “dreaded.” - - - - -LXXV. - -DUSTING. - - -AMONG the many little things a good housekeeper should vigilantly watch -over, while trying to teach a child or inexperienced girl, careful -and thorough _dusting_ is one of the most prominent. It is not alone -those who are confessedly ignorant that require this supervision, but -one half of all the hired help we ever saw have never been trained to -do that kind of labor perfectly. They are accustomed to look at it as -being of less importance, and more easily slighted without attracting -notice and subjecting themselves to rebuke, than other portion of -their duties. They may be very capable in many other parts of the work -allotted to them, yet lamentably fail when they undertake to dust a -room. A parlor- or chambermaid may begin her work properly. With broom, -whisk, duster, and dust-pan, with short sleeves, a clean handkerchief -or cap over the head to protect the hair from dust, she commences to -clean and “put the room to rights” in the most approved manner. Books, -papers, works of art, ornaments, or furniture--everything movable--are -carried into the next room if convenient, or if not, neatly covered -from the dust, which must necessarily be raised while sweeping; thus -leaving the floor as nearly vacant as possible, to facilitate that -operation. - -But, if superintending this work done by a new girl, you will notice -that, however methodical in all else pertaining to her work, she does -not stop to clean, carefully dust, and polish each article, as she -takes it from the room, and by so doing have them all ready to set back -again, with no delay, when the room is well swept and dusted. She seems -to have no idea that this will simplify her work, save time and extra -handling, and, as often happens, in case of any necessity for unusual -haste in finishing the work, be a great convenience. But, seeing how -like a good worker the girl takes hold of the other portions of her -labor, you perhaps think it not best to embarrass her by too many -criticisms at first, having no fear but at the close of the sweeping -the dusting will be well done; called away by other duties, you leave -her to finish, on the whole well pleased, and hopeful that you have -secured one who will prove faithful and reliable, relieving you from -constant watchfulness in her department. - -On your return, the first glance at the room confirms your hopes, but -by a second look your dream of peace grows shadowy. The room is nicely -swept, the furniture placed more nearly in the proper position than, -for a first trial, you had expected; but there the charm vanishes. -Such dusting! It must have been attempted; for you see the mark of -the dusting-cloth, as if hastily passed over, or brushed across the -plain surfaces of tables, chairs, etc., but looking more as if flies -or spiders had run races over them, than like the efforts of a human -hand to dust the room. Here and there some one or two articles have -been tolerably polished, but wherever there is any elaborate carving, -intricate molding, or dainty piece of statuary, requiring extra care, -the dust has settled, and lies unmolested in ugly masses, defacing or -concealing all the beauty. - -You summon the girl, trying all the time to school your heart and -voice to patience. You show her the dust, and, taking the work into -your own hands, proceed to give her practical demonstration of how the -work can and must be done. As you pass from one article to another, -you explain the injury to furniture and ornaments which will follow -careless dusting. Point out how speedily dust hides in the moldings -and carvings, and show her how to gain access to all the intricate -and troublesome ornamental work. As you proceed she sees how easily -and perfectly it can be done; but do not flatter yourself that this -lesson, so thoroughly and plainly given, will relieve you from the -responsibility of following up your chambermaid with continued -watchfulness and reminders. Be prepared to repeat this lesson every -week, and at the end of months find the repetition still necessary. If -you do not find this so, you may thank God and take courage, for you -have secured a treasure which you will do well to cherish. - -It is because our servants are so inclined to slight this seemingly -small, but really very important part of domestic economy, that we -think mothers should begin early to teach their little daughters how -to dust a room, and polish, by thorough dusting, all the furniture and -articles of beauty. Let them take first lessons in learning to keep -their play-room and playthings free from dust, and the knowledge thus -gained in play will soon be of much practical and valuable assistance -to their mothers. We know there are some children naturally careless -and flighty, while others are born neat and methodical. This difference -is very observable in children of the same family, trained by the -same mother, with equal care; and mothers soon understand that one -child must be looked after, in every step of her way toward becoming -a practical, useful, helpful daughter and woman, more than the other. -Such children draw very heavily on their mother’s strength, patience, -and hopefulness; but if the child is of an affectionate disposition, in -the end love and experience will conquer. - -There is great need that mothers be not discouraged in their endeavors -to teach their daughters all that pertains to practical domestic -economy; for, if we are not greatly mistaken, the time is not far -off when we shall all feel the necessity of looking to our daughters -to assist us in the nicer parts of housework, if we would have -comfortable, happy homes; relying on servants only for the coarser, -harder parts that would tax our strength too severely, or engross -our time too much, to leave any for social life or intellectual -improvement. These must receive their full share of our attention; but -the home cares have equal claims. Let there be an equal distribution, -giving to each her portion in due season, and there will be less waste -and extravagance, and lighter hearts and happier homes. - - - - -LXXVI. - -A CHAPTER ON SOUPS. - - -HESITATION in taking the first steps in any new enterprise or new work -is very common. With some it springs from great caution; with others, -from lack of confidence in their own ability. They magnify troubles -which may arise, and imagine all manner of difficulties, until very -small and easy duties are clothed in a mystery which they shrink from -solving. - -In working, a novice, if at all timid or lacking self-reliance, often -keeps herself in a constant state of alarm lest she make some great -mistake, and, strange as it may seem, few things in the whole round of -cooking-experiments assume a more formidable aspect than the simple act -of making a soup. It is a mystery which grows more _uncanny_ the longer -it is looked at from a distance; but lay your hand upon it, and you -will soon learn that you have been frightened at a shadow. - -There are several things preliminary to making soup which are quite -essential. First of all, it is desirable, though not absolutely -indispensable, that you provide yourself with the best and most -convenient utensils. - -A _stock-pot_ is usually a large, round kettle, with a closely fitting -cover, into which the meat or bones and odd bits for preparing the -stock or broth for soups are put, to be cooked. It is generally made of -iron or copper. - -A _soup-digester_ is a kind of stock-pot made wholly of iron. The -lid fits closely into a groove in the top of the digester, with a -projecting piece which, when turned till it meets the socket or notch -on each side of the groove, acts like a lock, holding the lid on -tightly. In that respect it is far better than the stock-pot, for -nothing can boil over in the digester, and no steam escapes except -through the _valve_ at the top of the cover. They are to be obtained at -almost all hardware stores, and are of all sizes, from three quarts to -ten gallons. - -Next, having provided the utensils, good “stock” of various kinds -should be kept constantly on hand, regulating the quantity prepared -at one time by the state of the weather and the size of your family. -In summer, in a cool cellar, it will keep, by frequent scalding, -several days. In winter it is safe to keep it much longer, only, like -everything else, it requires to be looked after carefully. Few soups -can be of the best quality without a strong _stock_ to start with. -_Liebig’s Extracts of Meat_ answers very well for a substitute, but is -better used in connection with the stock. - -Every bit of meat which is left over, that cannot be satisfactorily -employed otherwise, should go at once into the _stock-pot_ or -_digester_. Bones, after carving from them all the meat that can be -advantageously secured, must be well cracked and added to the other -pieces. The vessel should be always near, ready to receive any stray -morsel. When enough is collected to make a good quantity of stock, put -cold water to the pieces; for the juices, which are what you desire to -obtain, are much more readily extracted in cold water than in hot. On -the contrary, meats that are to be boiled for table use should always -be put into _boiling_ water, which closes the outer surfaces instantly, -thus retaining the juices. - -When the water is added, set the digester over a moderate fire, where -the contents will not boil rapidly, only simmer. After it begins to -boil, add salt and pepper. Opinions differ as to the length of time -needed in the preparation of good stock; but it is generally allowed -to simmer most of the day, which is too long, and it thereby becomes -muddy. We think a few hours’ boiling will extract all the juice, and -make better stock than longer. Remember that stock should have more -salt, pepper, and seasoning than would be desirable in the soup to be -made from it. - -When done, strain it into a large stone pot, kept for that purpose -exclusively, and cover closely till morning, when the fat will all rise -to the top and harden, and should then be removed. Never allow stock to -remain in the stock-pot or digester overnight; for, even when there is -no copper to render it unsafe, it will assuredly taste of the iron, -and the flavor be very greatly injured by it. - -If you have no bones or bits of meat on hand to make stock with, a -knuckle of beef or veal can be procured with little expense; or, if -a rich soup is desired, several kinds of meat should be mixed. For -instance: Take four pounds of the shin of beef, four pounds of the -knuckle of veal, and a half-pound of good lean ham--any scraps of -poultry, necks, wings, etc.--that may chance to be unused. Three -onions, three carrots, one head of celery, a few chopped mushrooms, -two or three fresh tomatoes, or what would be equal to them in canned -tomatoes, if they can be obtained; just a shake of savory herbs and -parsley, and, in cold weather, three turnips. In warm weather turnips -will cause the stock to ferment. Add an ounce and a half of salt, one -table-spoonful of sugar, twelve white peppercorns, six cloves, three -small bits of mace, and four quarts of water. Line the nicely cleaned -digester, after well buttering it, with the ham cut in thin, broad -slices carefully trimmed from all the outer fat that may taste too -strong of the smoke, or which is at all rusty. Then cut all the meat -from the beef and veal into about three-inch pieces, and lay them over -the ham. Set it on the stove, and when all is delicately and equally -browned, put in the beef and veal bones, well cracked, the bits of -poultry-trimmings, and pour over all four quarts of _cold_ water. -When it comes to the boiling point, bring to the side of the stove or -range, skim very carefully, adding now and then a little cold water, to -stop rapid boiling. Let it simmer in this way till it is quite clear, -and then put in all the vegetables and other ingredients, and keep it -simmering over the stove five hours. Do not let it at any time come to -a brisk boil, as that will waste the stock and injure the color. - -When done, strain through a fine hair-sieve or cloth into a large stone -_stock-jar_, and cover up carefully till needed. - -Prepared in this way, a stock will keep in cool weather a long time, -if kept covered closely from the air, by occasionally scalding, and -is always on hand when you wish a rich soup. While it is cooking, in -adding water to stop boiling, be sure that you add enough to supply -that wasted in steam, so that when done and strained you will have four -quarts of liquid. One quart will be sufficient for the stock for four -rich soups. - -A less rich stock may be obtained by using less meat and seasoning, or -by carefully saving the water in which fresh meat or fowls have been -boiled, adding vegetables and seasoning to suit yourself. Let it simmer -gently for six hours, skimming it carefully, and then strain and set -aside for use. - -_White stock_, for white soup, is made like the rich stock; only, -instead of browning the meat before adding any water, you should rub -the digester with butter, lay in the meat, moisten with half a pint -of water, and simmer slowly, until the gravy begins to flow; then add -five quarts of cold water and such vegetables and seasoning as you -prefer, or the same as for rich stock, and let all simmer five hours. -When stronger stock is required, double the quantity of veal, or put -in an old fowl. The liquor in which a young turkey has been boiled is -excellent for white stocks or soups. - -_Browning_ for soups is made with two ounces of powdered sugar and half -a pint of water. Put the sugar in a smooth, clean saucepan over a slow -fire till it begins to melt; keep it in motion with a wooden spoon all -the time until it becomes black, when the water should be added. Let it -dissolve in the water, then cork closely, and use only a few drops when -required. In France an onion is burnt to put with the browning; but -all browning, although it adds somewhat to the looks of some kinds of -soups, does not often improve the flavor. - -To _clarify_ stocks or soups which are sometimes a little muddy, -carefully separate the whites of eggs from the yelks, and use the -whites to clear the soup. One egg to every quart of stock or soup to -be clarified. Beat well together, with one fourth of a pint of water -to every egg, and, still beating, add gradually to the stock, which -should be just warm. Then place it over the fire, and when it boils -skim thoroughly, whisk it well, and draw the kettle to the side of the -stove, to let it settle till the whites of the eggs become separated -from the soup; then strain through a fine cloth, and, if rightly done, -the stock or soup will be clear. - -Thus, as will be readily understood, we have given most important -preliminary steps toward making soup. In the next article we give -directions for making several kinds of soups, and thereby answer -several requests in one chapter. - - - - -LXXVII. - -MORE ABOUT SOUPS. - - -MANY suppose they can obtain just as good soup by preparing the whole -between breakfast and dinner, claiming that the idea of keeping “stock” -on hand is a foolish one, and an increase of the cares and labors of -providing. We think this is a mistake, springing from ignorance in some -cases, in others from the fact that the objectors have never tried what -seems to us the better way. It is certainly the most economical, and on -trial we are sure will be found a saving of time and labor, instead of -an additional tax. - -By allowing the material for stock to simmer slowly, one obtains the -foundation for the strongest and best flavored soup which can be made -from flesh. Whereas, if the meat is taken in the morning, and prepared -for dinner the same day, one must hasten matters, and cannot take time -to separate the meat in small pieces, or have a soup free from muddy -streaks and a strong, disagreeable flavor. - -Liebig objects to cooking the stock for any great length of time, -because he assumes, and justly, that the albumen and fibrin which, -after protracted cooking, will rise hard and bony, cannot be so -thoroughly separated as not to leave some disagreeable flavor, and take -away much of the real nutriment of the soup. He says if we take one -pound of beef free from fat, and separate it from the bones finely, as -for mince-meat or sausages; then mix it uniformly in its own weight of -cold water, heat it slowly to a boiling point, and allow the liquid -to boil briskly for only a few minutes; then strain through a towel -to free it from the coagulated albumen and fibrin which will be mixed -with it, we can, by this short boiling, secure an equal weight of the -most aromatic soup or beef-tea, of such strength as cannot be obtained, -even by boiling for hours, from a solid piece of flesh. Youmans says, -by long boiling the rich part of the meat extracted by the cold water -coagulates and becomes insoluble, instead of remaining dissolved -in the soup, as it should do, in order to secure the most highly -nutritious substance of the meat. A piece of flesh put into boiling -water _undivided_ is in the most unfavorable condition possible for -making good soup. It is customary to protract the boiling, because it -is supposed to thicken and enrich the soup. - -We have no doubt, if the mistress could oversee the whole process, that -a better soup would be obtained by less than the four or five hours’ -cooking which we recommended in our last article for stock. But if she -is obliged to commit the preparing of stock or soups to willing but -careless hands, who half the time do not cut the meat up fine or crack -the bones, a longer time is necessary to extract the full flavor, which -will not then be as pure. - -What are called _clear soups_ should be of a light straw color, and not -too strongly flavored with the meat. - -_White_ or _thick soups_ must only be thick enough to adhere slightly -to the spoon when hot. - -_Purée_ consists of vegetables or meat reduced to a very smooth pulp, -and then mixed with enough stock to make a thick soup like most of the -bean or pea soups. - -One of the most generally palatable soups is the _turtle_ or _black -bean soup_, with rich beef stock for the foundation. - -Soak a pint and a half of the beans overnight in plenty of lukewarm -water. In the morning drain off all the water and cover with fresh cold -water; see that your soup-digester is perfectly cleaned, and three -quarts of beef stock put in it, then set it over the fire. (Of course -you never allow your digester or soup-pot to be put away without being -thoroughly cleaned; but _sometimes_ girls have been known to forget -or make a mistake; and it is best for many reasons that all utensils -should be examined thoroughly, rinsed with hot water, and wiped dry -each time you take them out for use, if only to remove what dust may -settle on them while in the closet.) - -As soon as your kettle is in order and the stock in it, drain off the -water from the beans; put them into the stock and set at once over the -fire where it will come to a boil slowly. As soon as that takes place, -set it a little one side, and it will simmer, not _quite_ boil, till -time for dinner. It will take some four or five hours to make the beans -perfectly tender. Half an hour before straining, add a teacupful of -tomato catsup and half a pint of canned tomatoes or six fresh ones. -Let it cook a little more briskly for a half-hour, then rub through a -coarse sieve or colander, and serve hot. In preparing stock for this -soup, the savory herbs and mushrooms may be omitted, also the tomatoes, -as it is better to add them just before the beans are done, and strain -all together. Some like to squeeze a few drops of lemon-juice into -soup when in their plates, and it is well to have a quarter of a lemon -put on a small saucer or cup-plate by every one at the table, so that -they can add it if agreeable. - -An excellent _beef soup_ can be made from the bones left from a roast. -Cut the bones apart, and crack them to pieces with a broad hatchet kept -for that purpose only, as the good husband may object to having his -carefully kept hatchet used by “women folks,” and _you_ may be equally -unwilling to take articles that have been used you know not for what. -Cover the bones with cold water, and set on the range where they will -simmer, _not boil_, between three and four hours. When the meat is so -tender as to slip easily from the bones, scrape it all off and set it -aside; put the stock thus made in a stone pot and cover closely, after -it is cold. We should have said in former directions that stock must -not be covered up till cold, then closed carefully. The next day remove -every particle of the fat; warm the stock enough to strain it; cut up -one onion (if you and your family like them), two or three potatoes, -one turnip, a few bits of cauliflower or cabbage, if desired, and two -carrots. Put these in the stock, adding, if you like, a half-pint -of rich stock; add pepper and salt to your liking, half a teacupful -of tomato catsup, a table-spoonful of rice washed clean, or “star” -macaroni. Boil one hour, and dish without a second straining. Of course -all these seasonings and vegetables must be varied or modified to suit -the special tastes of different families. - -The meat cut from the bone may be made into nice “force-meat balls,” -and put into the soup when dished for the table. To make these balls, -rub the meat smooth in a marble mortar. If very dry, moisten with a -spoonful of rich stock. When smooth, season with salt, pepper, a little -thyme, summer savory, and green parsley chopped fine. Beat one egg -light and stir in, thickening the whole with cracker crumbs, enough to -roll into small balls the size of a large walnut, and fry in boiling -lard, or place on a dish and bake a clear, even brown, and put into the -soup the last thing before sending to the table. - -_Julienne soup_ is among those most used at hotels and eating-houses. -Put half a spoonful of butter into the soup-kettle; slice in two -onions, and fry to a clear brown, taking care not to scorch them; then -add three quarts of good stock, two small turnips and two carrots -chopped small. Let this boil gently one hour, and then add a pint -of green peas, freshly gathered, and the same of young and tender -string-beans, a little mace, salt and pepper as needed, and a single -stock of celery chopped fine. Too much celery gives a bitter taste to -soup. Boil two hours more; then rub a table-spoonful of butter, with -the same amount of flour, and stir gradually into the soup. Boil a few -minutes and dish. - -A good _vermicelli_ soup with stock made from a shin of veal, boiled -in three quarts of water, can be prepared with little trouble. The -stock must be skimmed carefully, and, this done, put in one whole -turnip, one carrot, and one onion; none of these should be cut up. Boil -three hours; add salt and pepper to taste, and a quarter of a pound -of vermicelli after the three hours’ boiling, and let it boil gently -one hour more, then take out the bone and vegetables and serve. If the -stock boils away too much, add a little water. - - - - -LXXVIII. - -TESTING CHARACTER. - - -NOTHING so completely unmasks all the peculiarities of each individual, -showing bright and noble traits most clearly, and casting deeper -shadows on all that is weak, disagreeable, and unlovely, as being shut -up in a steamer or in cars for days together, acquiring an intimacy -in one week far more familiar than would have been formed in a year -of ordinary intercourse. Nowhere are selfishness, irritability, and -vanity so quickly detected; nowhere are such opportunities to manifest -patience, self-abnegation, and all sweet and gentle qualities, in the -most forcible and attractive manner, as in this phase of social life. -You may call daily, or spend weeks with people in their own homes, -and never imagine that fierce ambition, weak and silly vanity, petty -jealousy, or a harsh and bitter temper are smoldering where all appears -so cheerful and quiet, ready to be fanned into flames by the first -annoyance beyond their power to repel. While no shadows fall or clouds -obscure their sky, how pleasantly the moments pass by! Smiles and -gentleness meet you at every step. To secure your comfort and pleasure -is their delight; to dispense the hospitality of their homes gracefully -and with a free hand does them honor; to neglect to do so would detract -from the dignity of their social position, and be disgraceful. Every -attention and courtesy paid to a guest reflects honor on the host, and -few are so perfect that these considerations do not have some weight. -This may be assumed without at all detracting from higher motives. - -But become companions on a journey with those who, as host and -hostess, have been so attractive, and the most astonishing changes, for -which you are entirely unprepared, utterly foreign to your estimate -of their character, may meet you in every word and act. Take care, -however, while watching the _mote_ in your neighbor’s eye, that he does -not discover the _beam_ in your own. In the infelicities of traveling, -remember you are liable to the same criticism, and watch and pray lest -your own conscience compels you to acknowledge the justice of the -censure. - -On the other hand, you will often see persons so quiet and gentle at -home, that while you respect, you never think of them as presenting any -very striking characteristics. Sensible and unobtrusive, the goodness, -unseen, carries comfort to all around, while the recipients seldom -recognize the cause of the good influence which surrounds them, until -some startling commotion proclaims their silent ministration. The -freedom born from a common annoyance, discomfort, or danger, such as is -often experienced in traveling, sometimes reveals heroes and heroines -where we least expected to find them. - -One may read some strange chapters in character if he quietly watch -a crowd rushing on board a car or steamer, eager to secure the best -position, where most can be seen with the greatest comfort. The -rudeness and selfishness of each movement and act would be unpardonable -in their own homes. If you are careful to be on board early, before the -“rush” begins, it is certainly permissible to secure the best seat you -can, but with the reservation that old age, feebleness, and infancy -have a claim on all, which, if need be, should lead you willingly to -relinquish the position, however desirable, if by so doing you can add -to the comfort of any who come to you with these vouchers for their -right to your assistance and sympathy. Unfortunately, we often see this -gentle consideration for age and feebleness disregarded; but when -it shines forth how beautiful it is! How it covers little faults and -foibles, which, but for such unexpected manifestations, would have much -power to vex and distress! - -An elderly lady in feeble health took her seat in the cars, homeward -bound after a long absence. Being a cold, rainy day, it was especially -desirable to avoid all draughts from open windows. A party of young -people in high spirits seated themselves in front, and at once opened -the window. The wind, sleet, and rain rushed in, making all around -uncomfortable. Several remonstrated, but with no satisfactory results. -Even the indulgent father gently insinuated that they might themselves -suffer from such exposure, but not a word was spoken of the risk to -others. Every other seat being occupied, the invalid could make no -change; and feeling that all the health gained by her absence from home -might be lost through this severe exposure, with much reluctance she -mildly requested that the window nearest her might be closed. The favor -was rudely refused. - -These young people were evidently persons of wealth, on their way to -travel some time in Europe. From such examples, what impressions must -the people of the “old country” form of the characters and manners of -the new? The lady, probably reflecting gravely on the habits of the -young of the present day, sighed for the time when age was honored and -the young taught to reverence gray hairs. - -Time flew by, and again the invalid sought health far from home. The -boat was crowded with the young and gay. No wonder she remembered -the scene on the cars with sad forebodings, the sadder because on a -voyage one is liable to more discomforts than when traveling by land, -and probably was prepared to be perfectly isolated, asking for and -expecting nothing. The passage was disagreeable in the extreme, and -all more or less seasick. Of course, under such circumstances, it -would not have been surprising if each was disposed to think only of -his own discomfort. On the contrary, kindness, respect, and attention -were the rule, with hardly one exception. Those but slightly sick were -prompt in ministering to the comfort of the more seriously afflicted. -Affectionate inquiries, gentle sympathy, and, when needed, most tender -assistance, filled with bright spots a voyage which, but for this -blessed spirit, would have been intolerable; making warm and genuine -friends for life of those who but a few days before were perfect -strangers. - -These two experiences prove how unwise it would be to form one’s -estimate of all, in any circumstances, by the freaks and folly of a -few. How easy to excuse much heedlessness and frivolity, hoping for -better things with coming years, if out from among many youthful -follies such good traits are made apparent! - -If this law of unselfish kindness were thoroughly understood; if all, -particularly the young, could realize the rich reward for every kind -act, repaying them tenfold even in this life,--it would extract many -thorns from weary feet, prevent much heart-burning, and give a glory to -the life below only second to that blessed life above, where, when they -enter, they may hope to hear, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the -least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” “Well done, good -and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.” - - - - -LXXIX. - -IF WE KNEW! - - “If we knew the baby fingers - Pressed against the window-pane - Would be cold and stiff to-morrow, - Never trouble us again, - Would the bright eyes of our darling - Catch the frown upon our brow? - Would the print of rosy fingers - Vex us then as they do now? - - “Ah! those little, ice-cold fingers, - How they point our memories back - To the hasty words and actions - Strewn along our backward track! - How those little hands remind us, - As in snowy grace they lie, - Not to scatter thorns, but roses, - For our reaping by and by! - - “Strange we never prize the music - Till the sweet-voiced bird has flown! - Strange that we should slight the violets - Till the lovely flowers are gone! - Strange that summer skies and sunshine - Never seemed one half so fair - As when winter’s snowy pinions - Shake the white down in the air! - - “Lips from which the seal of silence - None but God can roll away, - Never blossomed in such beauty - As adorns the mouth to-day; - And sweet words that freight our memory - With their beautiful perfume - Come to us in sweeter accents - Through the portals of the tomb! - - “Let us gather up the sunbeams - Lying all around our path; - Let us keep the wheat and roses, - Casting out the thorns and chaff; - Let us find our sweetest comfort - In the blessings of to-day; - With a patient hand removing - All the briers from our way.” - - -THE wind is playing with the long gray beard on the grand old live-oak -over our heads; the air, soft and balmy, brings the slightest -intimation of perfume from the orange-trees around us; the golden -fruit, half hidden in the rich, glossy leaves, and here and there a bud -just opening into the delicate blossom, give promise of another harvest -before the first is fully gathered. Before us lies the beautiful St. -John’s river, smooth and tranquil as a summer sea; but a steamer in the -distance, like a graceful swan, approaches the wharf, and will soon -disturb its calm, and toss the placid waters into merry ripples or -foaming, sparkling waves. Only for a moment she touches the wharf, then -glides away, and the river subsides into its wonted calm. Her coming -and going have no interest for us, save that which a glimpse, however -transient, of beauty, strength, and grace must always awaken. She -brings none to greet us and claim the welcome, so gladly given by one -far from home. - -Everything around us is quiet. The inmates of the cottage are mostly -out sailing. The gentle provider for the household comforts, “on -hospitable thoughts intent,” is preparing for their return from this -“toil of pleasure,” tired and ravenously hungry. We are entirely alone; -and as we sit in this wonderful quiet, the little poem quoted above, -“If We Knew,” stirs our heart with strange and solemn power. - -Lives there one who does not, in moments of retirement or solitude, -look back to the earliest hours of childhood, and recall times when, -if he could have known the results, his actions would have been far -different? - -If all could in youth look along the map of life clear to the -end, seeing all the breakers and quicksands, which by patience and -self-control could have been avoided, how much more comforting would -be the view they might take, in after years, of the “backward track”! -No doubt it is well, for many reasons, that we cannot read the future. -Trials and sorrows, which no skill or forethought could have turned -aside, would have been doubled by anticipation and foreknowledge. And -yet we doubt if there are many who, looking back from the “half-way -house,” would not willingly endure all the additional pain if they -might have possessed the power to foresee the inevitable results of -certain courses, and, profiting by this foreknowledge, have avoided the -danger or the sin. - -Brother, sister, “if you knew” that soon “those little baby fingers” -would “never trouble you again,” would you be impatient or cross to -your little playmates for their childish, willful ways? - -Two little boys were playing together. Both wanted the rocking-chair -for a horse. Full of health and animal spirits, their dispute ran high, -and ended in a blow. Only a few days passed, and the baby hands of the -younger were folded in “snowy grace” upon the cold and quiet heart, -and laid in the grave. A short time after, hearing bitter sobs in the -garden, the mother found the lonely brother--himself but just past -babyhood--lying under the peach-trees, watching with eager eyes some -birds flying over his head, and calling, between his sobs: “O birdies! -little birdies! Fly up! fly higher! and tell Jesus if he will only let -little brother come down to me, he shall have the rocking-chair all the -time, and I never, never will strike him again! O, _never, never_!” - -Ah! how many brothers and sisters look back upon little disputes and -sharp, childish quarrels, that would hardly have been remembered had -both been spared to grow up together; but one having been taken away, -that dispute, or the wrong done, remains through life a sore spot in -the heart of the survivor. - -Father, be not harsh with your son. He disobeyed your commands, has -done wrong, and for his own good deserves rebuke; but remember he is -“only a little one.” Let your censure be tempered with gentleness. It -was but the overflow of exuberant life, not willful disobedience. If -you could look forward to what soon may be, how leniently would you -judge, how tenderly chide, and by your gentleness secure obedience much -more effectually! - -Ah, poor, tired mother! you are very weary and wellnigh sick. Your eyes -are heavy for want of sleep, and your head throbbing with the noise -and shouts and wild frolics of your little ones. It is often very hard -to bear; but it is health and strength and life overflowing in their -yet untried, undisciplined hearts. Be patient! If soon, with hot and -tearless eyes, you watch by the little crib where fever may conquer -that life but late so joyous and full of activity, can you endure -what God may see best to bring upon you, if, by impatience, you have -“scattered thorns, not roses, for your reaping by and by”? - -“I have asked you twenty times to mend this coat, and it is not done -yet. ‘No time’! How long would it have taken, I should like to know? -But--well--I can go ragged, I suppose. You give little heed to my -wishes or comfort. You must take your own time and way, without regard -to my convenience, or you will not be satisfied.” - -Husband! why do you say such ugly, biting things? You love your -wife. You would be indignant if a looker-on should hint that you -misjudged her or were exacting. Your heart--or that silent monitor, -your conscience--tells you that she did not intend to disregard -your wishes or advice. She was tired, overtaxed with many cares and -frequent interruptions, or perhaps sickness is creeping upon her -unawares. Whatever the reason, the offense was but a “little thing.” -Or even if she was self-willed or irritable, be patient with her. -You are fully aware that one mode of speaking makes her indignant, -and stirs up all the offensive, opposing elements in her character; -while, on the contrary, a certain tone of your voice, a love-look from -your eye, would have brought her to your side in an instant, sorry, -self-upbraiding, loving and honoring you with all her heart. Ah, “_if -you knew_”! These first morose, fault-finding words are, perhaps, -“leaving on her heart a shadow, leaving on your heart a stain,” which -may be the beginning of coldness, mistrust, and defiance, or perhaps a -darker sin, when but for them you could have secured joy and gladness -in your house, growing sweeter and purer day by day. Deal gently. You, -her husband, can make her happy, loving, and good, or you can make her -irritable, unloving, and evil, thereby destroying your own happiness -as well as hers. You are the _house-bond_ or _home-bond_. See that you -sever it not by your own folly. - -“John, why do you always _wait_, and _wait_, and hinder me so? You can -come at once, just as well as to keep me waiting, if you only choose -to!” - -Wife, it is just such little, impatient, waspish words that will -tempt your husband to seek quiet, comfort, and appreciation away from -your side. No matter if _he_ does “speak just as impatiently as you -have done, fifty times a day,” show him a better way. Why retort, or -increase the “little shadows,” which you can by gentleness dispel? -Yield a little; it is not hard, and you will reap a glorious reward. Is -not your husband’s love and confidence worth keeping, by the exercise -of a little patience and forbearance? But if not for present joy, to -ward off future misery at least, “set a guard over the door of your -mouth, that you sin not with your lips”; and so tread life’s pathway -with him to whom you have vowed a wife’s fealty that, if called to -sit in the desolation of widowhood, there shall not be added to that -sorrow the anguish of self-upbraiding for little services impatiently -rendered, or love requited by coldness or irritability. - -When we have passed through all the labors and trials of early life, -and in full maturity or just on the decline pause a moment to recall -the friends of our youth now gone, and the sweet family ties now -broken, how the heart aches with the memory of hasty words or actions, -and vainly yearns for one more opportunity for the better performance -of our whole duty, in all love, fidelity, and patience! But - - “God ... pity us all - Who vainly the dreams of youth recall; - For of all sad words of tongue or pen, - The saddest are these: _It might have been!_” - - - - -LXXX. - -IN SUCH AN HOUR AS YE THINK NOT. - - -WHEN a young girl is called by the death of her mother to assume the -management of the family before her home education has been completed, -we know of very few cases which draw so largely on our sympathy. Grief -and depression for the loss of a mother is hard enough for the young -heart to endure; and added to this, it is no easy thing to accept the -responsibility of providing for the comforts of those thus thrown -upon her care. All the economical arrangements of the household, the -oversight of cooking, even when the labor is done by the hands of a -servant; the daily watchings to prevent miscalculations in marketing; -the neatness and regularity to be secured in every department,--may -seem light to an experienced matron, but are heavy burdens to be laid -upon a slight young girl. Yet all this is but a drop, compared with the -thought and anxiety she must feel in administering to the health and -happiness of her father and of the children, even younger than herself, -who will now turn to her for the care once so efficiently and promptly -given by the mother. And most likely, until trials came to her, the -daughter had never had cares or duties that demanded the exercise of -her independent judgment,--her mother being always near to direct and -decide. - -A daughter may be ever so thoroughly instructed in all womanly -employments, yet if her mother retains the entire charge of every -portion of the household labor,--the child simply following as she is -bid,--there can be little opportunity for the development and exercise -of her individual judgment. She naturally prefers to lean on one ever -ready to relieve her from distasteful duties. This is, no doubt, -pleasant for both,--the mother is happy in shielding, the child happy -in freedom from care. But we doubt if it is wise or right, for often -“in such an hour as ye think not” all this must be changed. Frequently, -without a moment’s warning or time for preparation, the mother is taken -from her family. Ought she not to have furnished her child, by her -teachings, with that experience which, like a lamp trimmed and burning, -would guide her footsteps, enabling her, when this unlooked-for trial -came, to assume these responsibilities with comparative ease? We -believe that even at an early age it is best that some particular duty -should be committed to the care of every child, thus teaching them -self-reliance from the beginning of life, and accustoming even the -little ones to feel responsible for a certain amount of daily labor. -Of course, the mother will quietly watch that these small duties are -properly performed, but not openly, so that her child loses the sense -of real accountability, by knowing that “mother will see that it is -all right, even if I should neglect or make mistakes.” The mother must -_point out_ mistakes, but the child should always be made to _rectify_ -them. The knowledge that doing work hastily or carelessly will only -be the cause of punishment by compelling her to do the work over and -over again, until it is right, is a great safeguard against contracting -careless habits. Lessons thus enforced do not often need repeating. - -Little by little, as the child grows toward womanhood, let the mother -throw off some portion of her cares, teaching her daughters to -oversee or perform them correctly, and by so doing not only lighten -her own labors, but make such duties easy for her children in after -years, or if they should be called prematurely to the entire charge. -When daughters are old enough to become their mother’s companions, -they should also become joint partners in home and household -responsibilities. When out of school, divide the work so that every -other week the mother shall be entirely free from all care,--a guest -in the family; or if that is at first too great a tax on the young -partner, “take turns” in dividing the work,--the daughter one week -having the charge of the cooking, marketing, and arranging for each -meal entirely herself; the next week, of the dairy, if on a farm, or -the laundry or chamber- work. When each week is ended, the mother can -point out the failures, or recommend a better or easier way of doing -some particular thing; but unless advice or directions are asked, it is -far better that the young housekeeper should be left to her own skill -and judgment. For a few times this may not prove the best economy, but -in the end “it pays,” and with good interest. Of course, before this -plan can be carried into execution to any extent, the young lady has -served an apprenticeship, so far as to know, herself, that part of the -work which comes under her jurisdiction each week; and when practice -shall have made perfect, and the term of apprenticeship expires, it is -excellent discipline for a daughter to assume the reins entirely, for -a shorter or longer time, as health or pleasure may determine, subject -to such suggestions as may be deemed advisable. This arrangement gives -rest and liberty, if all her children are grown up, for the mother to -read, travel, or enjoy social life; as she could not do when they were -young and needing the mother’s care,--which should never be delegated -to another, unless compelled by ill health. This is a most valuable -training, by which the young housekeeper is prepared for a useful life, -or a happy home of her own some day. - -We cannot but feel that of late years too large a proportion of care -and thought is bestowed by parents in educating their daughters to -shine in fashionable life,--in giving them an ornamental rather than a -solid, practical, or intellectual education. They dislike to keep their -children at close study, lest they should spoil their figures or their -eyes, and allow them to discard housework for fear their hands will -not be small and delicate enough to show to advantage at the piano, or -in a party. Music, painting, and dancing are all well enough in their -way,--some of them very important,--but should not be sought after to -the exclusion of the practical, and by no means the least important -part of a young girl’s education, and preparation for an active, useful -life. Many young ladies will not willingly accept these views; but it -is for the most part because mothers, out of mistaken fondness, do not -care to have them; or, as is too often the case, because they do not -like the drudgery, as they term it, of teaching the lessons in domestic -economy, so necessary to their future welfare,--an indolent or selfish -mode of setting aside heaven-ordained duties, for which a severe -reckoning may one day be demanded. - - - - -LXXXI. - -GRUMBLING. - - -IT must be that a certain class of people find pleasure in -fault-finding and grumbling, or they would not search so industriously -for an opportunity to exercise their talents in this direction; or, -failing to secure a legitimate occasion, willfully manufacture one. -In the family, this habit is, unfortunately, often carried to a great -extent, even among those who are, undoubtedly, sincerely attached -to each other. The first word in the morning is usually a querulous -inquiry or complaint about some trivial thing which they merely -_suspect_ has been neglected or unsatisfactorily performed. They do -not take the trouble to inquire if their suspicions are well founded. -Such inquiry might deprive them of the luxury of grumbling. If it -were not so sad to hear the early morning hours thus desecrated, it -might furnish much amusement for a looker-on to notice how often these -unfortunates are caught in their own trap, and the fact made evident -to all that the foolish words were but the ebullition of arrogance and -irritability, having no foundation. - -“My dear!” (you will notice that a _gentleman_ grumbler begins a -complaint with a strongly emphasized term of endearment,)--“my dear! -why could you not heed my request that our breakfast might be one -half-hour later this morning? I told you I was very tired, and needed a -little more rest. But it is useless for me to imagine you would deviate -from your rules one minute just for my comfort.” - -“Why, Tom! how unreasonable you are! You are so in the habit of finding -fault, that you never stop to learn certainly if there is any cause -for dissatisfaction. Your breakfast is just three quarters of an hour -later than usual. I delayed it just as long as I could, expressly for -your comfort.” - -“I said _half_ an hour, _not three quarters_. That was every minute I -could spare. Now, I shall be too late for some very important business. -But you are always interfering, as if I didn’t understand my own -business best!” - -But when the grumbler has had a good cup of coffee or tea, and the -“inner man” is suitably refreshed by an abundant breakfast, he seems -to be in no great haste to attend to that important business; but has -leisure to look over the papers, play a moment with the children, and -can really speak gently to the one so rudely censured in the morning, -before his appetite was appeased. - -“Now, I call this real cruel, John. I must go to market right off after -breakfast, because you forgot to bring home the marketing last night. -And I asked you so particularly; as we have company to dinner, I have -hardly time to get ready. But I might have known if I wanted anything -in season, tired or sick, I must always do it myself. It is really too -bad!” - -“My dear! if I might slip in a word, I would like to inform you that I -_did_ bring home the marketing according to orders, and gave it to the -cook. You will doubtless find it in the store-closet.” - -“O John! that’s just like you. Why couldn’t you have told me last -night? It wouldn’t have hurt you to have taken that trouble, I’m sure.” - -“You had company, you recollect, when I came home. I had an errand to -do after tea, and you were fast asleep when I returned. What chance had -I to tell you?” - -“You couldn’t have told me quietly, even if we had company, I suppose?” - -“Why, child! how eager you are to find fault!” - -“O, yes! of course I am the only one to blame.” - -It is not necessary to multiply examples, though, we are sorry to -say, they could be brought from every class and position. But such -things are not pleasant to hear, and certainly do not look well on -paper. It is to be feared that we all have some germs of this same -malady,--enough, at least, to understand the symptoms, and warn us -to vigorous efforts to eradicate them. If allowed to take root, they -deface our own characters, and disturb, if not destroy, the comfort of -home. When parents indulge in this sin of grumbling, they cannot wonder -if their children follow their example, and even go beyond it. A whole -family of grumblers! what can be more wretched? - -Another class, whose behavior at home is unexceptionable, spare their -families, reserving their grumbling for business hours, giving their -servants or clerks the discomfort that the first class lay by for home -consumption. There is hope for those. By and by some high-spirited -sufferer from their waspishness and fault-finding, having endured their -wearisome grumbling till patience is no longer a virtue, may teach -them a lesson, through their self-interest, that will perhaps prove -effectual. - -But we have a few words to say of another class,--_grumbling -travelers_. At some of our hotel tables, where travelers “most do -congregate,” one can read a chapter of absurd and ridiculous weakness -to be found nowhere else. We have known people to sit down to a table -where we could find no occasion for complaint, and grumble loudly at -every individual article. Coffee, “horrid”; tea, “an insult to set -such stuff before any one”; soup, “too thick,” or “too thin”; and so -on through the whole bill of fare. Nothing set before them that was -not made a subject of criticism or rude comparison between the hotel -fare and the wonderful perfections of their own table. This habit of -fault-finding is, by a certain class, considered a certificate of -superiority which cannot fail to convince the public that they are -persons of wealth and high-standing at home. A mistaken idea. Even the -waiters at public tables, who, in consequence of the variety of guests -to whom they are called, are usually good judges of character, are not -deceived by this vain pretense; but many sly glances, that can only be -interpreted as contemptuous, may be detected; and as these complainers -leave the table, the waiters whisper to each other, as they pass to and -fro, “Shoddy,” with looks that cannot be misunderstood. - -This class of travelers leave their homes, not for information and -improvement, but for the opportunity of grumbling, on a new and more -extensive scale than can be attained in their own families. They leave -home in search of some yet untried cause for grumbling, and by a long -stretch of conscience and imagination they contrive to find it, and -return with a large store of freshly gathered material, over which to -expatiate for some weeks, quite to the relief of their families. - -All this kind of grumbling appears to us most unreasonable and -ridiculous; but if not inclined to find fault in any of the ways -mentioned, we are beginning to fear that every one meets some point in -life where he imagines dissatisfaction and complaint to be perfectly -justifiable. Something in their surroundings is out of joint. Their -most carefully laid plans and well-grounded expectations fail; -friends grow cold; where lies the fault? Is none of it with you? The -foundations of our worldly prosperity seem built on solid rock, but -they slide from under us. We take to our hearts one dearer than our own -life, and in an hour when we think not the bond is severed. Time and -again the cradle is left empty; or a sweet and loving spirit emerges -from it, and step by step grows toward clear companionship, when, as in -a moment, God calls, and we are left in sackcloth and ashes. We murmur -and repine,--God’s dealings appear so unequally distributed. In the -same vicinity one family grows up unbroken, from babyhood into vigorous -manhood, while another home is left desolate, and they cry out in their -anguish, “I do well to be angry.” They forget that God deals with his -children as they deal with the rich but uncultivated lands committed -to their care. What is more beautiful to the eye than a large grove of -wild orange-trees?--but how useless if left unimproved! Who complains -when their beauty, for the present, is destroyed, the trees cut back -and pruned till they stand bare and unsightly? But the buds and grafts -which have been introduced will soon start into new life, the branches -begin to shoot upward, and the sweet, pure blossoms and golden fruit -will clothe the tree, which a grumbler would have thought wholly -destroyed, with new beauty. The old beauty was defaced only that the -tree should, in the end, become fruitful, and thereby more gloriously -perfect than at first. - -Yet we murmur when our wild orange groves are cut back, pruned, and -grafted, and the “seedlings” from our nurseries transplanted. We forget -that - - “Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood - Stand dressed in living green,” - -which are made more gloriously beautiful by every rare and precious -plant that our Father transplants from this beautiful but stormy earth -to his garden, - - “Where everlasting spring abides, - And never withering flowers.” - - - - -LXXXII. - -LITTLE FOXES SPOILING THE BELOVED VINE. - - -“A MOTHER” desires to know if she fails in discipline, or if her -children are more troublesome and difficult to manage than other -people’s. She has coaxed, reasoned, whipped; shut up in solitude, fed -them on bread and water, or confined them in a dark room; but all -appears to be ineffectual. They do nothing really _wicked_, in the -strict sense of that term; but they forget or disregard all rules or -commands, are mischievous and careless; boisterous and full of frolic -one day, to the neglect of every duty, and the next, quarrelsome, -irritable, and in every respect uncertain. This mother feels her -responsibility deeply, and with all her heart desires to bring her -children up in the right way, but is more and more conscious that she -fails in her efforts, and now feels disheartened and discouraged. - -We judge the great trouble here is over-anxiety. Her children are -_governed too much_. It is not easy to lead young, conscientious -mothers to see this; but the grandmothers, profiting by their own -mistakes, see in these boisterous, careless, impressible children that -which, if not too closely pruned, will mature into strong, healthy men -and women; and in their irritability and disobedience they recognize -the effect of over-restraint, and too great repression of youthful, -exuberant, animal spirit, which, if slightly modified and gently led, -will be an invaluable assistance to these little ones in after life, -giving them strength and force of character to act well their part when -they enter in earnest on their life’s work. No doubt quiet, demure, -proper children would be the most desirable, just for the present -comfort of mothers or friends. Overtasked bodies and aching heads find -such children less troublesome. But it is not for present ease that -good mothers live. They look for their reward in the future usefulness -of their children, and “for the joy that is set before them” they -endure the cross like good soldiers. - -Yet while striving, in all patience, self-sacrifice, and love, to make -your children happy in the formatory state, and at the same time teach -them better ways, you must also be on the watch for the foes without -and the foes within,--the “little foxes” that seek to destroy - - “The beloved vine - Trusted to your tending - By the One Divine.” - -In no case be easy and lenient to that which is _sin_,--not merely -childish sport or thoughtlessness. Root up the smallest germ from -which mean, low, or wicked habits will spring, with a kind but -uncompromising firmness. You cannot guard your charge too closely -here; but be most scrupulously careful that you are not overhasty -in judging of the character of their faults, but have rightfully -distinguished between deliberate, intentional wrong-doing and childish -folly. Let your children feel that for the first you accept no excuse; -for the latter you are lenient, full of loving-kindness and tender -mercy. For disobedience that springs from stubbornness and a willful -determination to do that which is forbidden at all hazards, be not -cruel and harsh, but firm, and so severe that the child will have no -doubt of your resolution to destroy the evil by meeting each act with -quick retribution. Yet when compelled to punish, be so careful of your -own heart that your erring one cannot but see that you are severe from -no one emotion of anger, or because you are made uncomfortable, but -because God has committed them to your care, and will demand a strict -account of your stewardship. Be sure, in your dealings with your -children, that they have no difficulty in seeing that you recognize -a wide difference between overt sins and wrong done through childish -thoughtlessness and ignorance; and while you gently point out the -inconvenience and mischief apparent in consequence of their careless -acts, seek to make it plain to them that you restrain because you do -not like them to seek their sports and amusements selfishly, and at -the expense of others’ comfort. Before you decide that any act of your -children is really sinful and deserving punishment, examine and hear -all that can be said in excuse or palliation. - -Then as to the mode of punishment, when it really becomes necessary, -we think the parents’ judgment ought to be the surest guide, as they -should better understand the characters they have to deal with. Some -children, when they find that punishment is sure to follow wrong-doing, -submit easily; others are resolute or defiant, and these traits should -decide the nature of such infliction as the parent finds unavoidable. -There are times with certain children when we think a sound whipping -the most curative process; while to others it would be so humiliating -as to irreparably injure the child’s character; but a whipping is -not needed once, where some young, inexperienced, but conscientious -parents employ it twenty times. Where it must be resorted to, let it be -sufficiently severe to make a repetition a thing to be dreaded; but, if -brutal, it is simply barbarity, not justice. - -Never, under any circumstances, _strike a child on the head_ or _box -the ears_. That is the act of anger, and in general is practiced only -when the judgment is overruled by passion. Do not attempt to turn a -child from the “error of his ways” by any such heathenish means. No one -can judge at the time of the force of a blow dealt in anger; and though -done thoughtlessly, in a moment of irritation, it may bring life-long -suffering and sorrow. So, shutting up a child in a dark room, though -it may not appear at the time so barbarous, has often resulted in -the most painful, if not fatal injuries. Neither do we approve of -attempting to convert a child through its appetite; a dark room, a cup -of water, and a crust of bread savors too much of the inquisition or -the convict’s cell for Christian parents to imitate. - -After all, each one must be a law unto himself. Another cannot give -special rules for any one; but there is one thing that it may be well -for every parent to bear in mind always, namely, that probably a large -proportion of the evil we find in our children is but the continuation -or increase of our own faults, unheeded while they were our own. -And this should teach us great caution, great love and gentleness -in governing our little imitators. Mrs. Mary Crann, some years ago, -published some pretty verses on “The Little Foxes,” which spoil our -“beloved vines.” They are very touching, because so true, and mothers -cannot fail to read them with deep feeling, and with full hearts -thank the author who in these lines gives utterance to the sorrow and -self-condemnation which so often oppress them, when their own faults -and failings look at them through their little ones. We think we cannot -do better than to finish by giving our readers the whole poem:-- - - “Little foxes, spoiling - The beloved vine - Trusted to my tending - By the One Divine. - Little foxes, wherefore - Have ye entrance found - To the vine so precious - Growing in my ground? - - “Have ye leaped the fences? - Have ye climbed the wall? - Were there tiny openings? - Ye are very small, - And ye can creep slyly - Through a tiny space; - But I thought I closed up - Every open place. - - “And I watched by daytime, - And I watched by night, - For the vine you’re spoiling - Is my heart’s delight! - I have kept the earth-worm - From its precious root; - I have trimmed its branches, - But they bear no fruit. - - “For the little foxes - Have assailed the vine, - Trusted to my tending - By the One Divine; - And though I’ve been faithful - Since its birthday morn, - They were in the garden - When the babe was born. - - “For they are the failings - That I would not see - When they were _my_ failings, - When they dwelt in me; - Little faults unheeded, - That I now despise; - For my baby took them - With my hair and eyes. - - “And I chide her often, - For I know I must. - But I do it always - Bowed down to the dust, - With a face all crimsoned - With a burning blush, - And an inward whisper - That I cannot hush. - - “And sometimes it seemeth - Like the voice of God, - And it says, ‘Poor coward, - Using now the rod - On a child’s frail body, - Till I hear it moan, - And see its soft flesh quiver - For a sin thine own.’ - - “O my Father, pity, - Pity and forgive; - Slay the little foxes - I allowed to live - Till they left the larger - For the smaller vine, - Till they touched the dear life, - Dearer far than mine. - - “O my Father, hear me, - Make my darling thine, - Though I am so human, - Make her all divine! - Slay the little foxes, - That both vines may be - Laden with fruit worthy - To be offered thee!” - - - - -LXXXIII. - -WASTE NOT--WANT NOT. - - -MANY, particularly among the young, associate economy and frugality -with meanness, ungenerousness, and a churlish, disobliging disposition. - -“There would be no pleasure or comfort in living,” said a young -lady, when a friend was endeavoring to show her the desirableness -of “counting cost,” before entering upon any extravagant -expenditures,--“there would be no comfort in living, if I must stop -and consider the price,--adding up at every step, and deliberating -upon the sum total before I dared to make a purchase; to say every -minute, ‘Can I afford this?’ or, ‘Can I manage to do without that?’ To -compel myself to study how I could alter over an old garment, how to -change the trimmings so as to hide such piecing as must be done, before -I could bring the article into usable shape, and at the same time -preserve a genteel appearance; to pick up pins and needles, buttons -and strings, keeping before my mind all the time the idea of economy -and saving, in everything, small as well as great! Pshaw! I should -feel so mean. I should despise myself, and think all my acquaintances -would despise me also. I’d sooner spend what I have in a free-and-easy -manner, taking what pleasure I could in it, as long as it lasted, and, -when all was gone, go to the poorhouse or die! I do really think so.” - -A change of cars took them away, and we do not know what reply was -made to this speech; but from it we thought one could, without -uncharitableness, form a pretty correct estimate of the speaker’s -character and probable future. She may not end in the poorhouse, though -that would not be the most unlikely thing that could happen; but if she -marries, the heart of her husband cannot safely trust in her, and her -children will not rise up and call her blessed. Waste and extravagance -go hand in hand, and happiness and comfort do not walk with them. Those -whom they beguile become selfish, seeking their own gratification, -regardless of the interests of others. - -It is possible that parents often err in their mode of inculcating -economy, and, while striving to enforce its practice, render the whole -subject, and every idea connected with it, distasteful by overmuch -teaching. However that may be, for some reason the young appear to -look upon it as something to be shunned, feeling that they would “lose -caste,” if they even spoke of it, and to attempt to practice it would -shut them out from certain acquaintances as something quite inferior. -So, if compelled to economize, they do it secretly, while they think -of it as an evil to be deplored. All their little devices to “keep up -appearances,” and bring their surroundings into harmony with their more -wealthy neighbors, they shrink from having known, as from real disgrace -or guilt; whereas the ingenuity displayed is something often worthy -of much praise, if used openly, without regard to foolish criticisms. -Those who have the _gift_ to practice a judicious economy, to save -carefully, because it is _right_, and not from a niggardly, miserly -desire to hoard,--in household affairs, in dress, or in anything that -comes under their care,--are endowed with a talent for which they may -well be proud, and which is recognized by all sensible people as most -desirable, even by those who are placed in circumstances where the -closest watchfulness and care may not be a necessity. - -But it is not merely as matter of necessity that we wish to direct -the attention of all good housekeepers to the duty of thrift and -carefulness in the management of their affairs. We do not think the -poor, or those merely in moderate circumstances, should be allowed to -monopolize all the pleasure which, if rightly viewed, can be secured -by a frugal use and proper economy of the good things of this world -that may be placed at our disposal. The rich have an equal right with -the poor to share in this pleasure. A proper education, presenting -this subject in the true light, will show conclusively that the more -abundant the riches, the greater will be the satisfaction derived from -proper discretion and judgment in the use and distribution of them. The -good one can do, the large amount of personal happiness to be secured -by the good done, would be sufficient motives, even if there were no -higher, for strict watchfulness against waste, even in the smallest -item. If one has the means, and recognizes the greater convenience -of making purchases in large quantities, there is no degradation in -doing it _because_ it is also the better economy. But because they -have bought by the wholesale, and filled their store-rooms with large -and generous supplies, they must not feel that they have nothing to -do but fold their hands and allow others to scatter their stores -recklessly and without judgment. Making the purchases and seeing them -carefully put in place is by no means the end of their duty. They are -but stewards of God’s bounties, and a steward may not relax his care. -If a lady can afford to keep a housekeeper, and is willing to submit -to the rule and tyranny of one, rather than burden herself with the -entire charge of a house, we can only say, “There is no accounting for -tastes,” and will not presume to doubt her right to do so; but even -then, after having thrown off the supervision of the household, and all -the details connected with its care, we believe every one should still -retain sufficient responsibility to be sure that the housekeeper is -faithful, capable, and willing at all times to render a satisfactory -account of her stewardship; and the mistress should be able to know, -also, by these accounts, if she is true to her trust. If this was -generally understood to be the rule with all, there would be less -unfaithful stewardship, less defalcation in the household certainly, if -not everywhere else. - -But the injury done to subordinates by extravagance is one of the -worst features of this evil. Our servants are quick imitators, and if -the mistress is easy and careless in her expenditures, the maid soon -learns to follow her example, and so will waste the material put into -her hands. It does not take long to teach one of the improvident class, -from which our servants usually come, a lesson which not only leads her -to be careless of the property of others, even when she has no thought -or intention of being dishonest, but wholly unfits her for saving her -own earnings or managing a home of her own. Hence we see all around us -those who have lived in wealthy families marrying, with no knowledge -of providing for a family, or of using the little they have with -economy. So they sink down, year after year, into deeper poverty and -wretchedness; ending, perhaps, in the poorhouse; when if the lessons -learned in their employer’s house had been those of true economy, they -might now be living in neat and comfortable homes. - - - - -LXXXIV. - -MAKING CAKE AND PASTRY. - - -ONE of our young friends, speaking of her troubles, says:-- - -“I must have cake in the house, but shrink from the attempt to make -it; and in my brief experience in housekeeping have, so far, depended -on the bake-shops; for I know nothing about such work, and won’t let -my girl see me trying it, lest she find out what a novice her mistress -is. If I should put all the materials for my cake together, in the most -careful manner, and when it is taken from the oven find that it was not -good, _I_ should not know if the failure arose from my want of skill in -preparing it, or from my girl’s carelessness in baking it; but _she_ -would doubtless know whose the fault was, and I am dreadfully afraid it -would prove to have been my own. I don’t understand much about cooking, -and still less, I fear, how to judge of the quality of the materials I -must use in cooking.” - -In the first place, bear in mind always, in purchasing, that it is -cheaper in the end to buy _the best_, and in no one article is this -so manifest as in flour. Get the best in market, even if you pay an -extra price, and notice the _brand_. Try the flour faithfully, and if -it proves satisfactory, “make a note of it,” and continue to furnish -yourself with that kind, unless, after a few times, you find it -deteriorates. - -Good flour will adhere, slightly pressed together in the hand; and when -you unclasp your hand, the _lines_ in the palm will be plainly seen on -the flour you have held so tightly. Dough from good flour will not be -a clear, blue white, but yellowish, and, when well kneaded, will not -stick to the hand. - -We should have said, in the first place, by inquiries and observation -secure a good, honest, reliable grocer,--one who will truly endeavor -to serve you with the best; having satisfied yourself that you can -trust him, you will find his judgment will assist you out of many -uncertainties, until you have, by experience, learned to trust your own. - -The same rule for buying holds good of all groceries. _Buy the best._ -You will save money and insure comfort by it. There is no more economy -in buying cheap sugar than cheap flour. A barrel of pure, clear, -granulated sugar will last longer, and in the end be cheaper, than any -of the coffee or brown sugars. - -Before collecting your materials for making cake or pies, see that your -stove or range is in good order; the grate shaken free from ashes; all -the fuel needed for the cooking added and burning clear. Be careful -that no doors or windows are opened, so that the air will blow across -the stove. No oven can bake well if this is not prevented, or if the -sun shines across it. We all know that if this happens, the coal will -soon look whitish, instead of burning clear and lively. - -Having the fire and oven in a proper condition, you can now prepare for -making bread, cake, or pastry. Of course you will have a large, clean -apron, and _fold, not push_, your sleeves back above the elbow. A sack -apron, with high neck and short sleeves, made long and full enough to -cover the dress, is a great convenience, for if suddenly called from -your work you can throw it off easily, leaving your dress in a neat, -presentable condition. A close net cap drawn over the head will prevent -loose hairs falling into your work, and should be more used than is -common. A basin of water and a clean towel close by are necessary, so -that you need not be obliged to stop in the midst of your work to get -it in case of any mishap. Put everything you will need on the table. -Be sure that all utensils are always put away clean, so that, when -they are next wanted, you will not be hindered to do more than wipe -them free from the dust which may have gathered upon them. Scrupulous -neatness about all your cooking-utensils should never be forgotten. -If iron, tin, wood, or earthen vessels are set aside without being -scrubbed perfectly clean and wiped dry, you will waste much time when -next they are needed, aside from risking a moldy or rusty taste in your -food. - -A good-sized bread or molding-board, white and clean, perfectly dry -and smooth, should be placed on the table. It keeps the flour, sugar, -etc. that may fall, from the table, and is readily lifted, with all the -soiled dishes on it, to the sink for washing,--thus saving much litter -and many steps. Learn to cook without gathering a large number of -things about; after a little practice, you will be surprised to see how -few things are really needed, and how much confusion and how many steps -can be avoided by a little management. - -In making cake, dry and sift the flour, roll the sugar, if at all lumpy -(granulated sugar will not lump), and put it in separate bowls or pans. -Wash the butter, for cake or pastry, and put it into ice-water; weigh -or measure the sugar and milk needed. Raisins should be stoned, the -citron cut in thin slices, and currants washed and picked over, covered -closely, and put away in a cool place the night before they are needed. - -These materials all collected, butter the pans. If for cake, line them -with clean white paper, well buttered. Use butter, instead of lard or -drippings, as they may give an unpleasant taste to the under crust. -Cake baked in butter-lined pans does not burn so readily on the bottom. -If the cake does not require long baking, unbuttered paper will answer, -as it will peel off readily when the cake is cool. Have some clean -paper at hand to cover the top of the cake, if it begins to scorch. - -The white paper used to print our newspapers on is as good for -buttering and lining cake pans as the more expensive letter-paper, -and is also very nice to cover shelves with, or lay in the bottoms of -drawers. Two or three dozen sheets will last a good while, be of little -expense, and very convenient for many purposes. - -Eggs that are to be used in cake should be put into cold water in -summer, while you are making your preparations, until ready to use -them. Then break each one separately into a cup, to see if it is good; -but by breaking all into the dish you beat them in, you risk ruining -the whole by one bad egg. If good, turn it into the dish, and proceed -the same way with the others. Have your nutmegs grated, and all other -spices ready. - -These preliminaries attended to, (and it takes but a few minutes to -have all in readiness when you have done it rightly and methodically,) -begin to put the materials together. First beat the butter and sugar -together, till white and creamy; then beat the eggs,--the yelks and -whites separately always, as whites require longer beating than yelks. -Strain the yelks after beating, and add to them well-beaten butter and -sugar; then the spices; stir in the flour gradually, before using the -sweet or sour milk needed. If you use soda and cream of tartar, the -latter should be sifted with the flour, and the soda, dissolved in cool -milk or water,--never in hot water,--should be added after the milk. -If _prepared flour_ is used, no soda or cream of tartar can be put in -at all. Beat the batter very light, flour the currants and raisins and -stir in; then add the whites, beaten stiff, the last thing. After they -are added, the batter must not be beaten hard,--only enough to have it -thoroughly incorporated with the dough. In beating the whites, do not -stop after you begin till quite stiff, else they will “go back,” and -then they will not come up light again. - -In raised cake, put in the fruit, rolled in flour, just before you put -the cake into the oven. Spread it over the top lightly, and press it in -but a little way, else it will all sink to the bottom and be worthless. - -Only practice and watchfulness can teach you how to judge correctly -when cake, bread, etc., are done. If ever so perfectly made, it will -be heavy if taken from the oven before being thoroughly baked. When -obliged to turn pans round in the oven, do not move them roughly, and -never, if possible, take cake, bread, or biscuit out of the oven to -turn. The air striking on them will make them heavy and solid. - -Cake made with sour milk or buttermilk should be put into the oven the -moment it is put together, unless, like cookies or hard gingerbread, it -is to be molded or rolled. In that case it is quite as good to be kept -overnight or for some hours before baking. - -In making pastry use the best butter you can find. Poor butter is bad -enough anywhere, but nowhere so detestable as in pastry. If made with -lard it looks nicer, but is by no means so good, and certainly much -more hurtful than when shortened with two thirds more butter than lard. -Use the hands as little as possible in making pastry; either rub in the -shortening quickly, or chop it into the flour, so as not to heat it by -your hands, particularly in warm weather. Wet always with cold water, -and in summer with ice-cold water. Don’t touch it with your hands after -you are ready to put in the water, but stir together with a knife -quickly and lightly, turning it at once upon the board and roll out. -Molding will make it tough. Bake in a moderately hot oven to a delicate -brown. If scorched or hard baked, it will be bitter and disagreeable. -If your oven does not bake so well at the bottom as at the top, the -bottom crust will be very heavy and unhealthy. - -Before rolling out, let your pastry stand on the ice, or in a cold -place for an hour, as it makes it much more flaky. - -In making puddings, some advise beating both whites and yelks together -and then straining them. We prefer to beat separately, straining the -yelks. The milk for most pies should be boiled, in which case the eggs -must be added the last thing, and after the milk has become cool. - -In batter puddings, only a little milk should be added to the flour -at a time, and all the lumps beaten out smoothly before adding more, -if you would have a light batter. When berries of any kind are put -into batter pudding, they should be rolled in flour and added to the -batter the last thing, or they will not mix well, and will settle to -the bottom and be heavy. One third more flour is requisite for a batter -pudding with fruit than when plain, except with cherries. They need -only a little more. - -If you have no tin pudding-boiler, a bowl, with a thick cloth tied -tightly over, answers very well, or a thick tow or “butcher’s linen” -square cloth. If a cloth is used, wring it out of cold water, and -then sprinkle or spread flour over. Tie the cloth or bag very tight, -but allow room to swell; plunge at once into a pot of boiling water, -which must be kept constantly boiling until the pudding is done, or -it will be poor and watery. Replenish the water as it wastes, by -pouring boiling water from the teakettle into the pot. If there is -fruit in the pudding, it should be turned over four or five times the -first half-hour; if plain batter, turn it over when it has boiled ten -minutes, or the flour will settle. - -When done, a boiled pudding must be plunged into cold water a moment, -to make it separate from the cloth easily. In cutting a boiled pudding, -dip the knife in hot water for a minute, or lay it on the sides of the -pudding till warm, and you can cut it without making it heavy. - -Old housekeepers will think these hints quite needless, but letters -daily received show them to be very much needed by the young, with whom -in a short time we intend to have another quiet talk, from which the -old folks may retire. - - - - -LXXXV. - -AS THY DAY SO SHALL THY STRENGTH BE. - - -FROM those who seek counsel or consolation we receive many letters -which we would gladly excuse ourselves from answering, by the plea that -such topics come not under our supervision. But we cannot feel that -words for “The Household” mean only information about the washing, -cooking, and house-cleaning,--simply those things which belong to the -temporal state and bodily comfort. We are compelled to attach a broader -meaning to that word _household_. All the joys and sorrows, the hopes -and fears, all the perplexities and anxieties which the _mother_, even -more than the _mistress_, must accept when she assumes her position -as the head of the home circle, cluster around the word and rise -before her each hour of the day, if she conscientiously tries to do -her duty. Not alone the health and bodily comfort of those who compose -her kingdom, but their life-long usefulness and eternal happiness, are -committed to her watchful care, and may be wrecked by one false step, -one unguarded act, one ill-tempered word or unjust suspicion. Ah, to -attempt to trace her responsibility through all the life that lies -before her is overwhelming if she has not learned to feel that “as her -day so shall her strength be”! - -At times the mother’s life is full of brightness and joyousness; -again, she sinks to the depths of despondency, or trembles with wild -forebodings as her multiplying duties rise up before her, and she -realizes how many conflicting characters and dispositions are depending -on her for guidance. Nowhere does she feel this so keenly as in the -care of her children. The consciousness of ignorance or inability to -judge correctly, to act judiciously, so as to meet the wants of each -child and be just to all, oppresses her. If all were alike, so that one -code of laws, one well-digested line of action, would be as appropriate -to the whole as to each individual case, the responsibility of rearing -a family would be far less oppressive. - -But there are no two the same. Each differs so widely in taste, -disposition, and habits, that it necessitates as many modes of -management as there are children in the family. One is loving and -gentle. The parents need but express a wish, and, through the -affections, the child finds its greatest pleasure in yielding its own -wishes to secure theirs. Another is timid and sensitive to the last -degree. A sharp “word at random spoken,” or ill-advised censure, may -have “eternal power through life to wound,” because this very timidity -induces a habit of reticence and concealment; the child preferring to -endure the pain, rather than go through the ordeal of an explanation or -justification; and the next one may be too proud to attempt it, both -coming to the same results through widely different peculiarities. - -One is bold and outspoken; another carelessly, recklessly happy, -forgetting or neglecting all the rules of home in the overflowing -joyousness of living; another is so under the influence of -approbativeness, that to please and be approved, crowd independent, -manly action out of sight; and the mother is too happy, if the power of -this peculiarity does not too often draw the child beyond the bounds of -strict honor and truthfulness. - -And so through a large family you may look in vain for two so similar -in character that, by taking that course which proves best for one, you -may safely guide the other by it. - -A mother of eight children, whose faith is wellnigh exhausted, who is -cast down and wholly discouraged, thinks she would gladly die to escape -the great responsibility of managing them; and this responsibility -is growing greater and greater each year, as her boys and girls are -leaving babyhood behind, and rapidly springing up toward manhood and -womanhood. While they were little she enjoyed every moment, never -feeling the care a burden. By and by one was taken from her, and for a -while she refused to be comforted, till the Saviour spake and drew her -to him. - -But while she has evidently learned to _believe_ in Jesus, we think she -has not yet learned to _trust_. After her conversion, the sense of her -obligations to lead her children by the strait and narrow road has, we -think, pressed very heavily upon her, and she is in danger, not only of -hedging the path so closely as to render it distasteful, and to drive -them from it, but is also depriving herself of all the joy she might -possess by their true and loving companionship. She becomes alarmed at -every act which teaches her that her children are but mortal, and sees -in it evidence conclusive that they are rapidly going to destruction. - -She comes to us for counsel and asks, “Is it because I am so sinful or -so incompetent, that I do not succeed better in teaching my dear ones -to forsake the evil and choose only the good? They are loving and kind; -but if their hearts are not entirely astray from God, why do they so -constantly forget all I try to teach them, and do those things which -they know I think wrong? Did you ever feel discouraged and almost -hopeless?” - -Yes, O yes! And voluntarily threw away half the comfort every mother -is entitled to when her children are young and ever with her. Anxious -mothers never fully remember the days of their own youth, or realize -that half of what they call sin is but the overflow of bright, young -spirits, ready to effervesce and sparkle a little beyond the strict -lines that the mother, in her more sedate years, has marked out as the -proper bounds. Then mothers are so full of apprehension, so easily -alarmed! “The evils of this life appear like rocky precipices,--rugged -and barren when seen at a distance”; and they are sure their children -will stumble and fall, and be destroyed by them. But wait and _trust_. -When the great pressure of present care is somewhat lifted, and the -children, one by one, go out from your immediate influence, and little -grandchildren rise up about you,--for whom, though you dearly love -them, you do not feel the full responsibility,--you will find on a -nearer approach to these “rocky precipices” which so frightened you, -“that there are many fruitful spots and refreshing springs mixed with -the harshness and deformities of nature.” And remember, above all -things, that it is folly to add all the possible cares and burdens of -the _future_ to those which can come to you only day by day. - - “Does each day upon the wing - Its allotted burden bring? - Load it not besides with sorrow - Which belongeth to the morrow. - Strength is promised, strength is given, - When the heart by God is riven; - But _foredate_ the day of woe, - And _alone_ thou bear’st the blow. - - “One thing only claims thy care: - Seek thou first, by faith and prayer, - That all-glorious world above,-- - Scene of righteousness and love; - And, whate’er thou need’st below, - He thou trustest will bestow.” - - - - -LXXXVI. - -WHAT WE KNOW NOT NOW WE SHALL KNOW HEREAFTER. - - -STRANGE how natural it is for each individual to feel that there are -no troubles, no sorrows, so severe as his own! How ready we are to -feel that if the lessons our Father is teaching us were such as others -around us were learning, we could surely bear them with fortitude! - -The mother whom we spoke of in the last article, like many more who -fully understand her difficulties,--for they are passing over the same -rough road,--felt her trust and faith failing; yea, would “gladly -lie down and die,” before half her threescore years and ten were -accomplished, might she escape the responsibility of teaching her -children, and using her best faculties (no one is asked to do any more) -to train them up into noble men and women. The task appeared so hard, -the way so long, and her faith so weak! - -Now another mother claims, at least, our fullest sympathy,--a Rachel, -“mourning for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they -are not.” One after another has been taken from her, and each one at -“the most interesting age.” - -When is this “most interesting” age? Can a mother draw the line? In -early babyhood the precious gift nestles in her bosom, and lives -entirely through her life,--so dependent on her for every care and -comfort, that no one else can attempt to supply her place. Utterly -helpless as the babe is, when the mother realizes how necessary to its -life is her ceaseless watchfulness, can there be any period when it -will be so interesting, so dear to her heart, as now, in this state of -complete dependence? - -But slowly it emerges from this helpless condition. Its first -recognition, its first smiles and playfulness, are all bewitching. What -can be more lovely? A few weeks pass, and it can sit alone; then it -begins to creep; now, with what absorbing interest the first steps are -watched, and commented upon with a pride and earnestness as if no child -ever did all these things before. The mother’s heart is overflowing -with love and tenderness; but God calls, and the lovely babe is forever -hid from her sight. - -How can she bear it? Whose sorrow was ever like unto hers? Why is -it that God has sent this trial? What lesson can be taught by it, -that will do half the good which that child’s presence would have -accomplished? What is there in the care, the anxieties of watching over -its maturing, which can be thought a hardship? How joyfully would this -mother bear all this, if the life of her child might have been spared! -She longs to lie down and die, not because of the responsibility which -she knows would have increased with every added year,--she could have -trusted her Father to give her strength sufficient for those duties. -Her faith and trust fail, because God took her child from her, and in -her anguish she cries, “Why am I thus bereaved?” In answer to these -sad questions we can only say, “What ye know not now ye shall know -hereafter.” In the first bitterness of this grief, there is nothing -more to be said. - -Another little one is given to soothe the mother. She watches it with -trembling heart, through all the stages that her first-born had passed. -Every unusual motion, every cry the child utters, fills her heart with -alarm; some fresh cause for fear is found daily. But the little one -thrives, has reached and passed all the points of deep interest which -once before the mother watched with such pride. Now it begins to lisp -her name, and shortly its cunning prattle is the theme of constant -thought and conversation. When she rises in the morning,--at the table, -by the fireside,--it is again and again repeated, a many-times-told -tale, but always fresh, always new and beautiful. The mother has -nothing else with which to entertain the friends who call, and truly -believes that nothing could be told so new or so pleasing. In her -absorbing delight over each new grace and beauty that is day by day -developing, has she always remembered the Giver of her treasure? or, -has her love become idolatry? - -Again death enters, and just as the mother has begun to feel secure, -her darling is snatched away from her. In this hour of anguish, what -can comfort? Her heart rises up in rebellion, and she sees only cruelty -in this second stroke. In her despair she accuses God wrongfully. She -demands the reason why, “What evil have I done, that I am bereaved of -my children?” And friends can only weep with her, saying, “What ye know -not now ye shall know hereafter!” - -We grieve with you, poor stricken mother. We know every step of the -thorny road you are crossing; but do not allow these trials to make -your heart grow cold and bitter. You say, “I see nothing but injustice -in these dispensations which have left my home so desolate. Another -child has been given us, but I am trying to steel my heart against it, -for anything I love is taken from me.” - -This is all wrong. You say that your husband is kind, and bearing his -own sorrow for the loss of the little one silently, that he may comfort -you. Should you not remember that he has been equally bereaved, and may -need your sympathy? “Bear ye one another’s burdens,” and by so doing -will you not find strength to rise above this affliction, so far that -you can perform your duties with comfort, if not with cheerfulness? -You say you have no pleasure in the little one still left you. May -it not have been sent as a ministering spirit, to awaken in your -heart a deeper love and gratitude for the mercies that still surround -you, and bring you nearer to the Father, who often “wounds to heal, -afflicts to save”? There are trials harder to bear than those which -seem to have so nearly crushed you. When, instead of the prattle and -frolic of babyhood, the child becomes old enough to be taught how to -assist the mother in various ways,--begins to read and study, showing -a mind rapidly maturing, giving promise of no common strength of -character,--do you not see that it must become even more precious with -each new development? Yet when incurable disease fastens upon it, and -the parents see their bright and joyous child slowly but surely fading -from their home, is not this a heavier calamity than when our little -ones are taken from their cradles after only a few days of suffering? - -We have seen a mother for months hold back her tears, and minister to -the wants of the sufferer; and, hardest of all, sit by the bedside and -listen to the child’s anxious questionings,--soothing its fears, when -knowing that it is just entering the dark valley; singing of the peace -and joys that lie beyond; step by step, as death came nearer, leading -this child of her love down even to the banks of the “river that flows -close by the throne of God,” that when its timid feet touch the waters -she may herself almost lay the child into the Saviour’s arms, who is -waiting to receive and bless it. In this, cannot you imagine that there -is a depth of anguish which you have not yet fathomed? As our children -grow toward manhood and womanhood with promise of rich maturity, -does not our love grow with their growth, and strengthen with their -strength? When their education is just completed, and they are almost -ready to begin life’s work, if taken from us, is not the loss greater, -the desolation more appalling, than that which you have known? - -But your sorrow, though yet unsanctified, must be, to us, held sacred -from severe judgment. Nature will rule for a time, and may compel -utterance for which you can hardly be held responsible. We only -fear that your grief may become morbid and your heart refuse to see -the silver lining which may be discerned in every cloud. Why these -afflictions have been sent we cannot tell. Our Father sees when our -hearts have turned from their allegiance, and knows best what sharp -lessons will be necessary to bring us back to him. He may see that your -love has blinded you to the solemn duties that rest upon you, and to -save the children from the effects of injudicious indulgence, may have -taken them to himself, and by their loss design to draw you nearer. - -Some lines, sent us by Mrs. Crann, the author of “Little Foxes,” will -show you more clearly what we would convey than any words of ours:-- - - “We sat within a lighted room, - My baby boy and I; - But empty were my loving arms, - Where he was wont to lie - And look up fondly in my face, - For pretty toys were near; - And, though I called him lovingly, - The darling would not hear. - - “I yearned to clasp him to my heart, - But wooed him all in vain; - To leave his play and come to me - Would give him too much pain. - I took the candle in my hand, - And, with a breath of air, - Extinguished its soft, cheerful light, - And made all darkness there. - - “And soon I heard a sweet-toned voice, - To which I love to hark, - Cry, ‘Mother, take me in your arms! - I’m frightened in the dark!’ - And then I caught the sweet boy up, - And felt him clasp me tight, - And knew that I was needed then, - Because there was no light. - - “And as my darling grew in years, - The brightness of my joy - Made me adore our Father less - Than I adored my boy. - He called me in a tender tone,-- - His voice is always mild,-- - But I refused to go to Him, - And played on with my child. - - “And then He blew my candle out - By stopping Harry’s breath; - And in the anguish of that grief, - The darkness of that death, - I cried out in a trembling voice, - And with an aching brow, - ‘I’m coming to thee, O my God! - For my heart needs thee now.’” - - - - -LXXXVII. - -UNTIL DEATH DO US PART. - - -“A WIFE” writes that she has three children; has been married eight -years, and thinks it would be pleasant to be relieved from all -home cares, and travel for a few months. Her mother would take her -children home, so that she could feel perfectly at ease about them, -but her husband objects. He cannot possibly go with her, and though -it would be much pleasanter to have him accompany her, yet she could -go with friends, who would give her every attention. Her husband is -abundantly able to afford her this pleasure, but objects to her leaving -him,--“having his home broken up, and his children separated from him” -(sensible man!). “He endeavors to persuade her to be contented at home -until by and by he can take wife and children on this pleasure trip.” - -Now she declares that she has no faith in these _by and byes_, with -which husbands seek to keep their wives from enjoying the present, -by promises for the future. She thinks him unreasonably selfish, and -feels that she would be justified in cutting loose from such bondage -occasionally, and taking her pleasure, as she constantly sees so many -other ladies doing. - -We are pained with the whole tone of this letter, of which we give -but a few lines. Notwithstanding her complaints and fault-finding, -the writer cannot hide the fact that, from her own showing, she has a -pleasant home, an indulgent husband, and wealth sufficient to obviate -any necessity for labor or care, more than is required to superintend -her domestic affairs, and look after her children, as every mother and -housekeeper pledges herself to do when she enters the marriage state. -It is natural that her husband should object to her leaving him for -months, deprive him of his children, and disorganize his home, for her -own gratification. - -“_Until death do us part_,” the promise reads: not simply for a few -years, at the end of which time the whole domestic economy may become -deranged simply for personal pleasure, apart from the family. - -We see nothing that this dissatisfied woman has to complain of, but -are inclined to think she has been infected with those pernicious -doctrines which have led to loud complaints about women,--defrauded -of her _rights_, woman’s cruel subjugation,--doctrines with which we -have less and less patience, because we see more and more clearly the -mistakes and mischief which have sprung and will continue to spring -from them, unless the “plague is stayed.” No doubt many a woman is -oppressed and treated unkindly, often cruelly, and made to feel that -she is placed by her husband in a subordinate position, instead of -reigning _with_ him over their home,--his other self with equal rights -and power, as is only meet,--having charge of one department, while -he takes another for which his stronger organization and peculiar -masculine abilities are better adapted. The husband to superintend the -outside, severer duties: the wife as God prepared her to be, the mother -watching over infancy, and through those duties made less physically -strong, but giving grace and refinement to the home, which, without -her,--under masculine supervision,--would degenerate into coarseness -and inelegance. - -We know there are many overtaxed, broken-down women who by kindness and -just appreciation might have been saved, and remained altogether lovely -and refined, making their homes like Paradise before the fall. - -There are also many broken-down men, dispirited, uneasy of life, ruined -by the frivolity, irritability, and extravagance of their wives, whom -a refined, sensible, loving woman, would have redeemed and made happy, -noble, and godlike. - -We imagine the rights and the wrongs are about equally divided on -either side. The deceitfulness of the human heart, the natural -depravity, unsubdued, left to run wild and ungoverned, seeking -not the peace and happiness of the chosen partner, but their own -selfish gratification, has changed many a noble man into a reckless, -uncomfortable, unprincipled husband, or an arbitrary and harsh domestic -tyrant. And the same selfish indulgence and unregulated passions have -also changed many a woman, capable of shining in her appropriate -sphere as mother, or home refiner, into an irritable, unsatisfied -fireside torment. - -But this is wandering from the main point, through a train of thoughts -very naturally evoked by the perusal of the letter referred to. We -believe many homes are injured and much dissatisfaction and unhappiness -occasioned by the greatly increased disposition to travel; roaming -each year away from home, and too frequently without the companionship -which should naturally be secured. A man is often compelled by business -to be absent from home for weeks, or even months, to go abroad, and -frequently when it would be impossible for him to take his wife with -him. Often one _must_ go for health, while it is important that the -other should remain at home to look after their common interests. -These are misfortunes which cannot be avoided, and must be borne from -necessity, not from choice. - -But when we see either _desiring_ to roam, “to go a pleasuring” alone, -when both cannot go, we wonder at the folly which is laying the -foundation for bitter regret in later years. The marriage ceremony -is but a mockery, if the two who exchange vows are not expecting to -find their chief earthly joys in each other’s society. But when they -can bring their minds to a separation of weeks or months, just for -pleasure, we think they little dream of the heartaches they are laying -up in store for one another. - -Keep together while you can. Death will sever the bond, all too soon, -or sickness compel absence, full of fear and sad forebodings. It is -impossible for a husband and wife to be absent from each other often, -even for a few weeks at a time, without finding little changes on their -return. Every one has some peculiarities of character and disposition -which are not exactly congenial; but if married young, before habits -or traits are fixed past change, all these little infelicities are -softened or lost sight of in daily communion, and man and wife -assimilate, and grow more and more of one heart and one mind, if -happily mated. But let these separations, even of short duration, once -begin, and they soon grow apart. The natural traits and dissimilarities -which constant association have held dormant wake up, and are less and -less easily lulled to sleep after each separation. - -We think women are more injured by this roving than men. The latter -are seldom long absent, except on business, with no leisure for -pleasure-seeking while away; and in their necessarily rapid traveling, -the hurry, the annoyance, the loss of creature comforts, which are -found in greater perfection at home, are more felt, and usually the -comforts and luxuries of their own fireside are more fully appreciated -on their return. In the whirl of business while absent, they have -little temptation to take up any unusual line of thought or action. But -a woman, unless she _must_ go for her health, more frequently travels -to have a “good time,” throwing aside all cares, instead of taking them -with her as her husband does. In this freedom, she at once enters upon -a mode of life altogether different from that which a wife, mother, -or housekeeper can have at home. Her love of nicety and order is less -disturbed when she has only herself to care for; and a selfish habit, -a feeling of entire independence, is easily established, so that when -she returns home she finds it difficult to take up again what was once -a pleasure, but now seems more like the “burden of life.” The noise -and confusion of children or much company, for the care of which she -feels responsible, are far more irksome than before her “pleasure -trip.” She does not find the yoke so easy or the burden so light. The -habit of being interested in or sharing one another’s cares, reporting -little items of daily news when together, is destroyed, and without -any intentional unkindness they have learned to turn to others for the -amusement or the social intercourse which was once a part of their -life. - -These are not intentional _slights_, but the changes which repeated -absence most naturally brings. A woman sees the changes much sooner -than a man,--sees, grieves over them, and is made unhappy by them, if -she loves her husband, though often too proud to let it be known. If -_pleasure trips_ are frequent or of long duration, these changes are -more marked. Husbands and wives, who were once made uncomfortable and -restless if one meal passed unshared, learn after a while, by frequent -separations, to let many pass with but little regret. Separation has -lost its former importance in their eyes. Why should it not be so? If -_death_ divides them, however true the sorrow, time after a while must -bring healing; and the heart, although there will always be a niche -which no one else can occupy, must, after many days, turn for comfort -and companionship to other, if not better friends. Sometimes, perhaps, -in a younger and fairer, the old love is entirely lost sight of. - -Let this discontented wife, who, after eight years of married life and -the care of home and three children, feels that she should be indulged -in a vacation and freedom from these responsibilities, ponder well the -probable consequences of the steps she desires to take in opposition -to her husband’s wishes. To secure the short-lived pleasure of a few -months’ travel, can she afford to risk the many changes she may expect -on her return? Will she be willing to see that her husband has less -confidence in her, less desire for her society, than formerly; that -he has learned that there are many comforts and pleasures to be found -outside his home? Is the gratification worth the price she may be -called to pay for it? - -We have not put this subject in as clear and strong a light as we -desired; but if what we have said may have sufficient weight to lead -this “wife,” and others who are showing indications of having been -infected with the same restless, dissatisfied spirit, to think long and -soberly before they decide, we shall be thankful. We do not believe a -true-hearted, sensible wife would willingly desert her post or seek any -enjoyment in which her family cannot share. - -Keep your families unbroken; together share each other’s joys and -sorrows, so far as possible, until death severs the bond. That is the -wisest, happiest way of living. When death compels separations, you -will have enough to regret, without mourning for the days needlessly -spent apart. - -[Illustration] - - - - -PART II. - -CHOICE FAMILY RECEIPTS. - - - - -CHOICE FAMILY RECEIPTS. - - -YEAST. - -=Yeast.=--Good yeast is indispensable in order to secure good bread. - -Pare and boil eight medium-sized potatoes. Remove them from the -water when done, and put into it one small handful of _loose_ or two -teaspoonfuls of _pressed_ hops. While these are boiling, mash and roll -the potatoes very smooth, free from lumps; mix with them three even -table-spoonfuls of flour, a half cup of sugar,--brown sugar is the -best for yeast,--one even table-spoonful of ginger, and three of salt. -Strain out the hops after boiling fifteen minutes, and pour the boiling -water over the potatoes, flour, etc. Stir well together, and again set -it on the range or stove till it boils up once, stirring it all the -time, or it will burn. This done, pour it into a large earthen bowl or -stone pot to cool. When blood-warm, add one penny’s worth of bakers’ -yeast or a yeast-cake. Keep in a warm place till well raised, then put -it into a stone jug; cork and tie down securely. - -One teacupful will raise three good-sized loaves. - -=Another.=--Take one pint of the water in which the potatoes for dinner -were boiled; while it is boiling hot, thicken with flour; add a cup of -yeast when the batter is cool. Set the jar in which it is made in a -warm place, and it will be light in a few hours and ready to use. - -=Yeast-Cakes.=--Pour a pint of boiling water over a teaspoonful of -hops; let it stand ten or fifteen minutes, then strain the water into -a saucepan; heat it boiling hot, stir in flour enough to make a stiff -batter, and set it aside to cool. When lukewarm, put in a teacupful of -good yeast, or a yeast-cake softened in water. Set in a warm place to -rise. When light, add a teaspoonful of salt, two table-spoonfuls of -molasses or sugar, and a little soda. Then mix in corn meal to make it -stiff enough to roll into a long round roll. Cut it in slices about -half an inch thick, spread meal over your board, and lay these cakes -to dry. Turn them frequently while drying, and, if possible, get them -dried in two or three days, or they may become sour. It is well to dry -them in the air, but not in the sun. Put them in bags in a dry place; -and when you use one soak it in milk-warm water. - - -BREAD. - -=General Rules.=--Five quarts of flour and one quart of milk or water -are sufficient for two loaves in quart-pans. - -Rub shortening, salt, and potatoes, if used, into the flour before -wetting it. The milk or water for wetting should be about milk-warm, -and the yeast be stirred into part of the wetting for the sponge, or -into the whole, if the bread is to be made without sponging; then pour -it on the flour and knead. - -=Bread without Sponging.=--Sift five quarts of flour, cover and set by -the fire to dry. Pare and boil five medium-sized potatoes. When done, -drain them dry from the water and sprinkle over them a teaspoonful -of salt. Mash perfectly smooth and free from lumps, adding an even -table-spoonful of sugar, and rub all together, till potatoes and flour -are perfectly combined. Take a pint of the water in which the potatoes -were boiled, and a little more than a pint of milk, and when blood-warm -stir into it one cup of home-made or a cent’s worth of bakers’ yeast. -Pour it on the flour and potatoes, and knead the whole together without -sponging. All bread should be kneaded a full half-hour, then covered -with a clean bread-cloth, and over that a bread-blanket, and set in a -warm place to rise. If mixed overnight it will be ready for the second -molding before breakfast; then make into loaves and put into the pans -for the second and last rising. When light let it be well baked, but -not long enough to make it hard and dry. When done, take from the pans, -wrap a bread-cloth round each loaf, and turn upper side down into the -pans, leaving it there till cold. This will help to make the crust -tender. - -=Good Bread.=--Put what flour will be needed for two or four loaves, -according to the size of your family, into your bread bowl or pan. -Make a hole in the middle, pressing the flour compactly towards the -sides of the pan; then pour in sufficient boiling water to thoroughly -scald and wet about one half of the flour. When cool, stir in one -cupful of lively domestic yeast or a cent’s worth of bakers’, or, if -you prefer, a small cake of dried yeast previously soaked in warm -water. Set it near the stove or in a warm place in cool weather, cover -closely just before retiring at night, and it will be light by morning, -when a teaspoonful of salt and enough more warm, but not hot, water to -wet all the flour must be added; knead it very thoroughly, and set it -to rise again. When light, work it again, and put in the pans to rise -for the last time, and as soon as it is light bake in a moderately -heated oven. If the oven is too hot at first, the bread is apt to get -brown on top and bottom too soon, and then it will not be done in the -middle. A moderate oven at first is best, increasing the heat gradually -until the bread is about half done, when it should be of a steady heat -till the bread is done. - -=Bread with Sponging.=--Stir into three quarts of milk-warm water one -even table-spoonful of salt, and flour enough to make a soft batter. To -this add the yeast above mentioned, or, in warm weather, use only half -as much. Set the pan in a warm place in cold weather, and cover closely -with a clean bread-cloth. Make this sponge at bedtime. If the sponge is -at all sour in the morning, dissolve a teaspoonful of soda in a little -water and stir in; then work in as much flour as is needed to mold it -easily, and knead it thoroughly. Make it into small loaves, and see -that the pans are well buttered and warmed when used. Keep them in a -warm place, and cover with a clean white bread-cloth. If properly cared -for, it will be light in an hour, and ready for the oven, which must be -well heated. In baking bread or cake, care should be taken that the top -does not brown too soon, as that will prevent its rising up light, as -it otherwise would. If this makes too many loaves, it is easy to make -only half or one third the quantity. - -=To make Bread from Flour that runs.=--Put what flour you need in your -pan, and pour enough boiling water over to just wet all of it, but not -to make it thin; sprinkle in a teaspoonful of salt and a spoonful of -butter; stir it up with a large wooden spoon until sure that all the -flour is scalded; then cover and let it stand till cool enough to add -the yeast. So that the yeast is sweet and lively, you can use any kind -you prefer, bakers’ or home-made. When the flour is sufficiently cool, -clear to the bottom, add your yeast, and give the whole mass a faithful -kneading, adding more tepid milk or water, if needed. Knead till the -dough cleaves from your hand easily, then set it to rise. When very -light, knead again, put into the pans, and leave it to rise once more; -then bake as directed above. - -By this method _running_ flour can often be conquered, and bread thus -scalded will be found uncommonly sweet and tender. - -=Bread by Scalding the Flour.=--Pour enough boiling water on two -quarts of flour to wet it thoroughly; add two even table-spoonfuls of -butter; stir all well together, and let it stand till cool; then add a -small cup of domestic yeast, or not quite a penny’s worth of bakers’ -yeast; mold it fifteen minutes, then set by the fire to rise. When it -begins to crack on top, put it on the molding-board, beat it with the -rolling-pin, and chop and mold alternately for twenty minutes; then -make into loaves, prick them on top, and set them by the fire to rise -once more. As soon as light, bake. Bread made in this way is not quite -so white, but is very sweet and light. If flour is at all inclined to -“run,” the scalding will stop it. - -=To make Stale Bread fresh.=--Put the loaf into a clean tin, and cover -closely to exclude all water, and set into a steamer or a kettle of -boiling water for half an hour; then remove it from the tin and it will -look like fresh bread, and be really almost equal to a new loaf. - -=Graham Bread.=--Two quarts of unbolted wheat, half a cent’s worth of -bakers’ yeast, or half a teacup of home-made yeast; two table-spoonfuls -of molasses, one even teaspoonful of salt, and warm water or milk and -water enough to make a stiff dough. Beat this well, or, wetting your -hands in water, mix it very thoroughly; cover closely, and let it rise -light,--about six hours in warm weather, or in winter mix just before -going to bed. When it is light, wet your hands in cold water and put it -into well-buttered pans. Let it rise in the pans about an inch; an hour -will generally be long enough. Bake an hour and a half, or until it is -very well baked, but not scorched. - -Or, take three small cups of the sponge from your wheat bread; when -well risen add to it two spoonfuls of molasses, half a teacup of Indian -meal, one teaspoonful of salt, and half a pint of warm milk and water; -stir in enough Graham flour to make a stiff dough, and cover closely -and set to rise. When light, fill your pans half full; let it rise once -more, and bake carefully. - -Or, pour boiling water over one quart of Graham flour; add a -teaspoonful of salt, three table-spoonfuls of molasses. Let it stand -till lukewarm; then add half a cup of home-made yeast, or part of a -penny’s worth of bakers’ yeast; dip your hands in cold water, and mix -it thoroughly. If too stiff, add more warm water. If too thin, mix in -more flour. It should not be so stiff as for fine flour bread. Let it -rise light; then put it into well-buttered pans to rise again. When -light, bake one hour. It requires a hotter oven and needs to bake -longer than other bread. - -Or, one quart of flour, one teaspoonful of salt, three table-spoonfuls -of molasses, and two table-spoonfuls of yeast; wet with warm water, -or warm milk and water, till as thick as pound-cake. If wanted -for breakfast, let it stand overnight. When ready to bake, add a -well-beaten egg and a teaspoonful of soda; put into buttered pans and -bake well. - -Or, one quart of buttermilk or sour milk, soda enough to make it foam, -and while foaming pour it on the Graham flour, stirring it together -quickly. The flour should be all ready in the pan, and one teaspoonful -of salt, and a scant half-teacup of molasses stirred into it before the -soda is put to the buttermilk. Make it as thick as pound-cake; bake -immediately one hour with a steady hot fire; add a well-beaten egg if -in a hurry for your bread, as it will bake sooner, and we think be -lighter for it. - -=Steamed Brown Bread.=--One cup of Indian meal, two cups of rye, one -cup of molasses, two cups of milk, a half-teaspoonful of soda, the same -of salt. Stir well together and steam in some of the new “boilers” or -“cookers” or “steamers” three hours; taking care that the water does -not stop boiling. Add boiling water as the water boils away. If you -wish it hot for breakfast, steam the day before, and in the morning set -it in the oven for half an hour to form a good crust. - -=Corn Bread.=--Sift two cups of Indian meal overnight; pour on it just -enough really _boiling_ water to moisten or wet it through; cover it -up and let it stand till morning; then add one cup of flour in which -an even teaspoonful of cream of tartar has been sifted. Dissolve half -a teaspoonful of soda in one cup of sweet milk, and stir with the meal -and flour; add half a small cup of sugar; beat two eggs--yelks and -whites separately--and put in the last thing. Bake in a quick oven. - -=Rice Bread= (_Southern Receipt_).--One pint of rice flour, half a pint -of wheat flour, one pint of sour milk, two eggs, butter half the size -of an egg, and one teaspoonful of soda. The rice flour must be very -fine, and stirred in after the other ingredients are partly mixed. Bake -as soon as possible after the whole is stirred together. - -Bread is sometimes made of _apple_ mixed with flour, by putting one -third of stewed apple-pulp to two thirds of flour, and fermenting -with yeast for twelve hours. This bread is said to be light and very -palatable. It is much used in France. - - -BISCUIT. - -=Morning Biscuit.=--One quart of flour, half a teaspoonful of salt, -two table-spoonfuls of yeast, and one pint of sour milk, with half a -teaspoonful of soda dissolved in it. Work this into a dough; then rub -into the dough half a cup of butter. Knead well; cut off small bits; -shape them into biscuits; lay them in the bake-pan, cover closely with -a bread-cloth, and let them stand overnight in a warm place in winter -and a cool place in summer. Bake in the morning for breakfast. - -=Tea Biscuit.=--Peel and boil four potatoes of medium size. When done, -mash and roll them smooth and perfectly free from lumps, sprinkling -a table-spoonful of salt over them. Put to the potatoes a half-pint -of the water in which they were boiled, a half-pint of milk, and a -table-spoonful of sugar. Stir into this sufficient flour to make it a -stiff batter. When cool, add half a penny’s worth of bakers’ yeast, or -half a teacup of home-made yeast. Cover over with a bread-cloth and -blanket. In cold weather leave this sponge in a warm place overnight -to rise. In the summer, make it early in the morning. When this is -risen until quite foamy, soften--but do not melt--two thirds of a -teacupful of butter, and beat it into the sponge, together with two -eggs, yelks and whites beaten separately; add flour to make it stiff -enough to mold,--the softer it can be worked the better it will be. -Knead it half an hour, then cover and set it to rise. When light, knead -and _chop_ the dough at least fifteen minutes. This done, return it -to the bread-bowl, again cover closely, and set to rise. When light, -repeat the kneading; let it rise the second time, when it should be -worked down and set on the ice in the ice-box, until within an hour -of tea-time; then it must be again molded, rolled out, cut into small -biscuits, pricked on the top, put into a bake-pan, covered over, and -set to rise on a bench, near the stove, twenty minutes or half an hour. -When light, set the biscuits into an evenly heated oven, and bake -quickly to a delicate brown. When done, cover over with a bread-cloth -for a short time before removing from the pan, to soften the crust. - -=Soda Biscuit.=--Put two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar into one -quart of flour; sift both together and rub in thoroughly two great -spoonfuls of butter. Put one teaspoonful of soda into a table-spoonful -of cold water, and stir till all is dissolved, then put it into a pint -of cold water and pour it on the flour. Stir together quickly; if it -cannot be rolled out, add a little more flour, but just as little as -it is possible to roll out the biscuits with. Cut in shape and bake -immediately. The great secret of making good soda biscuit is to sift -the soda with the flour, to have it thoroughly dissolved, the dough -made as thin and as quickly as possible, and baked immediately. - -=Indian-Corn Biscuit.=--One quart of corn meal, one pint of wheat -flour, sifted together, and stirred into three pints of milk; add a -teaspoonful of salt. Beat four eggs, the yelks and whites separately, -as for sponge-cakes. First stir the yelks into the batter; then add the -whites, and a small teaspoonful of soda, the last thing. Have ready -buttered some cups or small pans; nearly fill them with the batter, and -set into the hot oven immediately. Bake fast, turn from the cups as -soon as done, and serve immediately. They should puff up so as to more -than fill the cups. - -=Parker House Rolls.=--Two quarts flour, one large spoonful of lard, -small teaspoonful of salt, one pint boiled milk,--set aside till -cold,--half cup sugar, half cup yeast. Make a hole in center of the -flour, put in milk, etc., and let it rise overnight. In the morning -knead it well, and let it rise till noon; then cut it into long, narrow -rolls and let it rise till tea-time. Bake. - -=Rusk.=--Three coffee-cups new milk, three eggs, one teacup butter, -one teacup sugar, one of yeast, and flour enough for batter. When the -batter has well risen, work in more flour, but mix it rather soft; let -it rise once more, quite light, but be careful that it does not sour; -then make it out into rolls or biscuits; let it stand again a short -time, and bake in a moderately hot oven; fifteen or twenty minutes -should cook them. - -=Sweet Potato Buns.=--Boil and mash two good-sized potatoes; rub in -as much flour as will make it like bread; add a little nutmeg and one -table-spoonful of sugar, with a table-spoonful of good yeast. When it -has risen, work in two table-spoonfuls of butter, and soften so as to -be easily mixed thoroughly with the dough; then form into small rolls, -and, when raised the second time, bake on tins a nice brown. _Serve -hot._ - -=Potato Pone.=--Pare and grate on a large grater sweet potatoes enough -to make one quart of grated potato. Stir to this one pint of sweet -milk, two eggs, two thirds of a cup of butter, and enough sugar to make -it as sweet as plain cake; season with ginger. Bake till well done. -Eat, hot or cold, with butter. If desired to be light colored, put the -potatoes into cold water as soon as pared, and when ready grate into -the milk. If dark-colored pone is preferred, sweeten with molasses and -season with allspice. This is very rich made like pound-cake, using one -and a half pounds of grated potato in place of flour. - -=Gems.=--Break into a quart of milk four eggs (two will answer) without -beating, stir in flour till as thick as waffles. Beat till smooth, and -fill the “gem” pans half full. Bake quick in a hot oven. No salt, soda, -or cream of tartar. - -The “gem” pans should be well buttered, and set into the oven to get -quite hot while the batter is being prepared, and when you are filling -them, set the pan on the top of the range to keep it hot. When filled, -set them immediately in the oven. - -=Gems, No. 2.=--Drop four eggs, without beating, into a quart of milk; -add two great spoonfuls of melted butter, and beat in flour until as -thick as waffles. Pour into hot buttered gem pans, and bake like the -first. - -=Graham Gems.=--Drop one egg into a quart of milk or water. Stir in -Graham flour until as stiff as waffles. Pour into hot, buttered gem -pans, and bake quickly. Or add to the above one table-spoonful of -melted butter; they will be tenderer. - -In all measures the spoon, cup, or tin should never be heaped, but even -full. - - -BREAKFAST AND TEA CAKES. - -=Corn Cakes.=--Rub one table-spoonful of lard into four cups of corn -meal. Stir the meal into four cups of sour milk, with a teaspoonful of -salt. Beat two eggs very light, and put in one teaspoonful of soda, the -last thing. Beat well, and bake in small gem irons, or light tin forms. - -=Another Way.=--Three teacups of corn meal, one teacup of wheat flour, -two teacups of milk, one teacup of cream, or a third of a teacup -of butter, three table-spoonfuls of sugar, one egg,--beat yelk and -white separately, and very light; one teaspoonful of salt, and half a -teaspoonful of soda. Bake in small pans, with a brisk heat. - -=Another.=--Sift two cups of meal, pour over it one teacup of boiling -milk, stir it up well, and let it stand all night if intended for -breakfast. The next morning add one cup of wheat flour, one of sugar, -a half cup of butter, the well-beaten yelks of two eggs; add, if -needed, more milk, so as to make it as thin as waffles. Take one scant -teaspoonful of soda; the whites of the eggs, beaten stiff, to be added -the last. Pour into a well-buttered pan and bake about twenty-five -minutes, in a well-heated oven, but not scorching hot. If Jewell’s -Prepared Flour is used, no soda need be added. If correctly prepared -and well baked, this is excellent. If you have sweet apples, three -or four chopped very fine, added, and two thirds of a cup of finely -chopped suet, instead of butter, is a very great improvement. - -=Another.=--One cupful of flour, two cupfuls of corn meal, two great -spoonfuls of sugar, not quite half a cupful of butter, one cupful of -milk, two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar, sifted with the meal and -flour, and a small teaspoonful of soda; two eggs, whites and yelks well -beaten separately; the yelks mixed with the milk and meal, and the -whites added, the last thing. - -=Steamed Johnny-Cake.=--One pint of sour cream, one teaspoonful of -soda, and one of salt. Stir in three table-spoonfuls of flour; then -add corn meal enough to make a stiff batter. Beat one egg, and add to -the batter; stir all carefully together, and pour into a well-buttered -tin basin; set this into a bread-steamer, and keep the steam up for an -hour, or more if the loaf is large. Serve with cream and sugar. - -=Corn-Meal Cake with Apples and Suet.=--One pint scalded milk, or a -half cup cream, or a pint of sour milk, one teacupful suet chopped -fine, a table-spoonful sugar, a teaspoonful salt, six good-sized sweet -apples chopped fine, three eggs well beaten, and a small teaspoonful of -soda. Beat thoroughly, and bake in a shallow tin pan. - -=Muffins.=--One pint of milk, one table-spoonful of butter, one pint of -flour, a small teaspoonful of salt, three eggs, whites and yelks beaten -separately and very stiff, a small even teaspoonful of soda; add the -whites last, beat smartly and perfectly free from lumps. Butter the -griddle, and bake in well-buttered rings. When the bottom is done, turn -over the rings and bake the top, or put the rings on a well-buttered -bake-pan and bake in a quick oven. We think them lighter and better so -baked. - -=Another Way.=--One quarter of a pound of butter, one teaspoonful salt, -three eggs, one pint sweet milk, one quart flour, a heaping table-spoon -of brewers’ yeast, or two of home-made yeast. Melt the butter and -put into the milk, beat the eggs and put them also into the milk, -then stir in flour and add the yeast. If for breakfast, set them to -rise overnight. If at all sour, add half-teaspoonful of soda. Bake in -well-buttered rings in a quick oven. - -=Cream Muffins.=--One quart rich milk, or, if you can get it, half -cream and half milk; one quart of flour heaping, six eggs, one -table-spoonful of butter, one of lard; softened together. Beat whites -and yelks separately very light; then add flour and shortening and -a scant teaspoonful of salt, and stir in the flour the last thing, -lightly as possible, and have the batter free from lumps. Half fill -your well-buttered muffin-rings, and bake immediately in a _hot_ oven, -or your muffins will not be good. Send to table the moment they are -done. - -=Another Way.=--One teacup sour cream, two eggs, one half-teaspoonful -of soda, thickened with flour about as stiff as waffles. Bake in a -quick oven. - -=Raised Muffins.=--One quart milk, a halfpenny’s worth of bakers’ yeast -or half cup of home-made yeast, two table-spoonfuls white sugar, one of -butter (lard will answer, but is not as good), one teaspoonful of salt, -two eggs well beaten, and flour sufficient to make a stiff batter. - -Make the batter overnight, leaving out the eggs. In the morning beat -the eggs, yelks and whites separately, very light, and stir into the -well-risen batter. Have the muffin-rings well greased, fill half full -with the batter, and bake twenty minutes in a quick oven. Serve hot. - -=Hominy Muffins.=--Wash a pint of small hominy through two or three -waters, pour boiling water on it, cover, and let it soak for several -hours. Then put it into a farina-kettle with half a pint of boiling -water. Let it boil until soft enough to mash; drain it and mix it well -with a pint of white corn meal or wheat flour, a little salt, and a -pint and one half of milk in which two table-spoonfuls of butter have -been melted. When nearly cold, add four table-spoonfuls of yeast; cover -it, and set it in a warm place until very light, with the surface -covered with bubbles. Butter some muffin-rings, set them on a hot -griddle, pour into each a portion of the mixture, and bake them brown -on both sides. Send them to table hot. - -=Quick Muffins.=--Two teacups buttermilk, one of thick cream, or, if -none, three even table-spoonfuls of melted butter, four eggs, half a -teaspoonful of soda; thicken with prepared flour as thick as waffles. - -=Graham Flour Muffins.=--One pint of sour milk, a small teaspoonful of -soda, one table-spoonful of sugar, and Graham flour sufficient to make -a thick batter. Bake in rings, or drop the batter in spoonfuls on a -flat tin. Add a little salt before baking. - -=Raised Waffles.=--One pint of sweet milk, a heaping teacup of butter, -three eggs (yelks and whites beaten separately), a table-spoonful of -thick brewers’ yeast or a halfpenny’s worth of bakers’, one quart of -flour, one quarter of a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in one teacup of -sweet milk; beat all together, and let it rise till very light, and -then bake. Serve hot, with butter and sugar, or plain, according to -taste. - -=Corn-Meal Waffles.=--Pour over one pint of corn meal, _twice_ sifted, -one pint of boiling milk. Put in one table-spoonful of butter, one of -flour, and a teaspoonful of salt. Let this stand till cold; then add -half a teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in a little cold water; the yelks -of two eggs well beaten, the whites whisked very light and stiff to be -added the last thing, when just ready to bake. - -Put a brown paper over bread, biscuit, or cake when first set into a -hot oven, else the top will most likely brown and form a crust before -they rise sufficiently, and thus make them tough or heavy. - -=Buckwheat Cakes.=--One quart of buckwheat flour, mix with lukewarm -water rather thicker than you will wish it when ready to bake. A cup of -Graham meal added is, we think, an improvement. Stir in half a cup of -family yeast, or a halfpenny’s worth of bakers’, and a teaspoonful of -salt; mix in an earthen bowl or a large earthen pitcher,--the latter -is the most convenient, as the batter can be poured from the lip of -the pitcher more neatly than it can be dipped out of a bowl; set it -where it will keep warm all night. The batter should be made early in -the evening, as it takes fully ten hours in winter to rise; when ready -to bake in the morning, beat half a teaspoonful of soda into a great -spoonful of molasses, and stir into the batter, adding also enough -lukewarm water to make it thin enough to fry; bake quick; the thinner -the cakes can be baked the better they will be. - -=Rice Griddle-Cakes.=--Half a teacupful of whole rice, three eggs, half -a pint of rich milk, and half a teaspoonful of salt. Cook the rice till -every grain is dissolved and like jelly. Warm the milk a little, and -beat the rice in it till it is smoothly mixed. When the eggs are beaten -very light, add to the rice and milk; then the salt. Bake on a hot, -greased griddle till brown and light. If the batter does not adhere, -add another egg, but no flour. - -=Sour-Milk Griddle-Cakes.=--Stir into one quart of sour milk enough -flour to make the batter as thick as waffles; add an even teaspoonful -of salt and two well-beaten eggs. Dissolve an even teaspoonful of -soda, and beat in when ready for frying. This is very good baked in -waffle-irons. - -=Green-Corn Fritters.=--One pint grated corn, one small cup butter, -one egg, a teaspoonful salt, one table-spoonful flour, a little pepper. -Drop on a buttered pan and bake or fry ten minutes. - -=Mock Oyster Fritters.=--Grate one dozen raw ears of corn; after -grating, scrape or wring all the milk from the cob; half a -table-spoonful flour; season with pepper and salt; beat the yelks of -three eggs very thick, and stir into the grated corn; whisk the whites -to a stiff froth, and add the last thing. Drop a dessert-spoonful at a -time on a hot, buttered griddle, and fry of a light brown on both sides. - -=Corn Oysters.=--One quart grated corn, three eggs well beaten, one -small teaspoonful salt, and a little pepper, with just flour enough to -make the corn hold together. Drop from a spoon into hot butter, making -cakes about the size of an oyster. Sour milk, with a half-teaspoonful -of soda, will answer if eggs are not plenty. - -=Rice Cakes.=--One cup cold boiled rice rubbed into a quart of milk, -one pint of flour, a teaspoonful of salt, two eggs beaten very light. -Beat all free from lumps. Bake as soon as made, on a well-greased -griddle. - -=Rice or Hominy Cakes.=--Warm one quart of sweet milk, and rub into -it two cups of boiled rice or hominy; throw in a little salt, and add -enough wheat flour to bind the rice, or to make the batter as thick as -waffles. Beat two eggs and add to the batter, and half a teaspoonful of -soda, unless you use the prepared flour. If you do, there will be no -salt or soda needed. - -=Rosie’s Sally Lunn.=--One spoonful of butter, one of sugar, one egg, -one pint of milk, one quart of flour, with two teaspoonfuls of cream -of tartar sifted with the flour, and one teaspoonful of soda added the -last thing. This is an excellent breakfast-cake, as well as tea-cake, -and is sometimes varied by stirring in a pint of whortleberries. - -=Strawberry Shortcake.=--Rub into a pint and a half of Jewell’s -Prepared Flour one teacup of butter; beat one egg very light; add milk -to make a soft dough; divide in three parts; roll out lightly, lay one -portion on a pie-plate or tin, sprinkle a little flour on the top, then -add the second cake, a little flour on the top of that, and cover with -the third. Bake quickly, but not too brown. Let the berries stand with -sugar sprinkled over them till the cake is baked, then pull the thin -portions of cake apart; spread half of the berries over the bottom -cake, adding more sugar and a little butter; lay the second over them, -and put on the remainder of the berries with more sugar and butter, -placing the top cake over all. Put it in the oven for a few minutes to -heat through, and send to the table hot. - -When wishing an extra nice strawberry cake for tea, beat the whites of -two eggs with a cup of white sugar till stiff, and add to it half of -a grated cocoa-nut, and spread over the cake. If you have no prepared -flour, sift two small teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar with the flour; -dissolve one small teaspoonful of soda in milk, and add the last thing -before mixing the cake. - -=Cream Toast.=--Put a pint of rich, sweet cream over the stove in -the farina-kettle, and while heating toast thin slices of stale -bread quickly on both sides, taking care that they do not scorch. -Wet two table-spoonfuls of flour in cold milk; stir it smooth; add a -teaspoonful of salt, and when the cream is scalding hot, put in the -flour, stirring all the time till it thickens; then take the kettle -from the fire. Have ready a dish of salt and water, hot, and dip each -piece of the toasted bread into it, but only for a moment. Remove -quickly to the toast-dish, and dip over it a liberal supply of the -thickened cream; then cut more bread and lay into the dish, then more -cream, till all is used, letting the cream be the last. If you have no -cream, boil and thicken some sweet milk; put in an even teaspoonful -of salt, two table-spoonfuls of butter, and, when done, add one or -two well-beaten eggs the last thing; stir for a few minutes till well -united with the boiling milk, and then pour over the bread. - - -SOUPS. - -=General Directions.=--Before giving some receipts for _soups_, we -wish first to remind our young housekeepers that it is important for -them to bear in mind the necessity and economy of keeping good _stock_ -constantly on hand. The French stock-pot is always in readiness to -receive every bone, coarse or refuse bit of meat not suitable to use -for the main dish or for side-dishes. We understand that the French use -earthenware for this purpose and also for “soup-digesters.” It would -be a benefaction if our house-furnishing merchants would import some -of these “soup-digesters” and “stock-pots,” as they are far better -than metal. But until we can procure such, the _stock_, as fast as -made, should be strained into a large stone pot, and when cold, all -the grease that rises and hardens on top must be removed, clarified, -and set aside for cooking purposes. Aside from the economy of using -all refuse meat and bones for stock, and the convenience of having it -always ready for use, the soup will be better if the stock is made -at least the day before, because one can then easily remove all the -grease,--an important item in preparing good soups. - -=Stock for Soups.=--Buy a knuckle of beef or veal. Have the bone well -cracked in small pieces. Put it in the soup-digester, or, if you have -none, in a closely covered iron pot. For a medium-size piece, add five -or six quarts of _cold water_ (by using cold water you will secure -all the juices, whereas in hot water half the juice is retained in -the meat). Let it come to a boil before you add salt or pepper; then -season it to suit your taste, and if agreeable put in a small bit of -red pepper. Set the kettle on the back part of the stove after it once -commences to boil, and keep it gently simmering all day; then strain it -from the bones and meat, which are now worthless, into a pot kept for -the purpose. Never throw away bones that are left from baked, boiled, -or roast meat of any kind, or from steak, poultry, anything, (except -those taken off the plates); dried or gristly bits of meat may also be -used to prepare stock for soup; and in a large family sufficient can be -gleaned that would otherwise be thrown into the swill to keep stock on -hands for weeks, without buying a bone for that purpose alone. When the -stock is strained off, set it in the cellar to cool. The next morning -carefully remove all the grease that has risen to the top and hardened, -and you will have a clear, rich stock ready for use. Clarify the grease -removed from the stock by slicing a raw potato into it, and set it over -the fire in a skillet till it boils; then strain it from the potato, -and you have fine dripping for many purposes. - -=Tomato Soup.=--Use stock from beef, ham, veal, or any other bones or -refuse meat. Put two or three quarts into your soup-kettle,--the size -of your family must determine the quantity,--cut in one carrot, one -small onion, if agreeable, a little celery or fresh parsley; add salt, -pepper, and herbs to suit the taste, and then make the stock thick -with tomatoes,--fresh from the vine are much the best; a spoonful or -two of star maccaroni is an improvement, or rice or pearl barley, if -you have either at hand. Let it boil two hours. - -=Another.=--Take bones or bits of meat left from any dish, and boil -well to extract all nutriment, then strain; or, if you have none -on hand, make a rich stock, put in cabbage, carrots, parsnips, or -any other vegetables you like; boil till well done, then add the -tomatoes,--a dozen fresh, or half a can of winter tomatoes; boil twenty -minutes, then strain and serve hot. - -=A Vegetable Soup.=--Peel and slice six large onions and four turnips; -fry them in one quarter of a pound of butter, and then pour over them -four quarts of boiling water. Toast a good-sized crust of bread hard -and brown (but take care that it is not burned at all), and put into -the soup, with a little celery; sweet herbs, salt, and pepper to suit -your taste. Stew gently four hours, stirring often to prevent it -from scorching; strain through a coarse cloth or strainer, when it -has cooked the four hours. Have ready a little thinly sliced carrot, -turnip, and celery,--a few slices of each will be sufficient,--put -these into the soup after straining it; return to the fire and stew -till these last vegetables are tender. A spoonful or two of tomato -catsup will improve it for some people. - -We have not tried this soup, but were told by an excellent housekeeper -that it was capital. We demurred at the quantity of tomato and onion, -but judge the long time given to cook the soup may combine and -incorporate the different flavors so as to make it quite palatable. - -=Mock-Turtle Soup.=--Take a calf’s head dressed with the skin on,--the -fresher the better. Take out and lay aside the brains. After washing -it several times in a plentiful supply of cold water, soak in cold -spring water. Then put it into your soup-kettle or digester, adding -two quarts more of cold water than is needed to cover it, and place -over the stove or range. There should be about two gallons of water -in all. As it begins to heat, a large amount of scum will rise to the -top. Watch this carefully, and skim it off as fast as it rises. Let it -boil one hour, or till the meat can be easily removed from the bone, -when it should be taken from the liquor, and when nearly cold cut from -the bones in neat pieces about an inch square. The tongue may be cut -up in small pieces with the meat, or cut up and mixed with the brains -for a side-dish. The skin of the head is the best part, and should be -cut up carefully, leaving as much fat adhering to it as you can. As -soon as the head is taken up, put to the broth in which it was boiled -a five-pound knuckle of veal and the same amount of lean beef, adding -all the bones and trimmings of the head; a half-dozen cloves, a quarter -of an ounce of allspice, and the same of whole black pepper; boil five -hours, skim well, and keep closely covered. Then strain and set aside -till morning, when all the fat must be removed, and two quarts of this -stock reserved. Now put in a large saucepan, over the fire, half a -pound of good fresh butter, six ounces of onions, sliced, quarter of an -ounce of green sage, chopped. Let these fry one hour slowly. Be careful -that it does not scorch. Then rub in half a pound of flour by degrees, -gradually adding the broth, till of the thickness of rich cream. Season -with salt to your taste; half an ounce of lemon peel, grated. Let it -simmer again gently an hour and a half, and strain through a hair-sieve -or tamis. Don’t _rub_ the soup through the sieve, it will make it -muddy. If it does not run through easily, knock a wooden spoon against -the side of the sieve; that will start it through without the sediment, -which would go through if rubbed. Put the stock, when strained, into -a clean stew-pot with the pieces of the head; and to each gallon of -soup have a pint of nice claret, if you wish it dark, madeira or -sherry, if you prefer it light (those who object to wine or brandy in -_mince_-pies must be careful not to call for turtle or mock-turtle soup -at restaurants), two table-spoonfuls of lemon-juice, and two of catsup, -one of the essence of anchovy, a teaspoonful of curry powder, or -quarter of a drachm of cayenne. Let it simmer till the meat is tender, -taking care that it is not done too much, and by frequent stirring -prevent its sticking. When the meat is quite tender, serve the soup -with force-meat, brain, or egg-balls. This should have been reduced by -boiling to four or five quarts. - -=Bean Soup.=--Wash your beans and boil them with a piece of salt pork. -When the beans are soft, take them out and press through a colander; -then put them back in the water they were boiled in, together with -four hard-boiled eggs quartered, and half a lemon sliced, a little -pepper, if you like it. Boil up and serve. This is liked by some better -than when made with rich beef stock, with tomatoes or catsup for flavor. - -=Soup with Eggs.=--Make a good stock from a knuckle of veal and any -bones which may be on hand from baked or broiled beef or mutton. Add -one turnip, two carrots, one onion, a little lemon-juice, a small -sprinkling of thyme, and a little celery. Let it boil five or six -hours, then strain, set it to cool, and, when cold, remove all the -grease. When needed, heat it, add a little thickening of rolled cracker -or flour, and to three quarts of this stock add the yelks of five or -six eggs, one gill of cream, and pepper and salt to taste. Drop the -yelks in whole, and let them cook a few minutes. Some like to drop them -in just as the soup is dished. We do not think it so nice, but that is -a matter of taste. - -=Green Pea Soup.=--Take two quarts of green peas, a quarter of a pound -of butter, a quarter of a pound of ham cut very fine, two small onions, -and a little parsley, and put it into a soup-digester or kettle; add -just a little water, enough to allow it to stew slowly, stirring it -well together, and cover closely. When quite tender, add two quarts of -veal, beef, or mutton broth, a great spoonful of sugar, and pepper and -salt to season it to your taste. Let it boil up once, then rub through -a hair-sieve into another kettle, and pour to it one pint of boiling -milk; boil five minutes and serve. - -=Turtle Bean Soup.=--Pick free from dirt and imperfect beans a pint and -a half of turtle beans; soak them overnight in a good quantity of cold -water. In the morning drain off the water, and wash the beans in fresh -water; drain and put in the soup-digester, with four quarts of good -strong stock from which all the fat has been carefully removed. Set it -where it will boil steadily but slowly till dinner-time,--four hours at -least, six is better. We always have ours put on as soon as the fire -is kindled in the morning before breakfast. One small onion, a carrot, -and two or three of the outside stalks of celery cut into the stock is -considered an improvement by most persons. Stir it occasionally till -the beans begin to soften, to prevent their sticking and burning at the -bottom. Two hours before dinner put in half a can of tomatoes, or, in -the season, eight or ten fresh ones, and a coffee-cup of tomato catsup. -When ready to dish, strain through a fine colander or coarse sieve, -rubbing through enough of the pulp of the beans to make it as thick as -rich cream. Taste to see if there is plenty of salt and pepper, and -send to the table hot. If you have any hard-boiled eggs left over, chop -fine and put into the soup, after straining it, or, if eggs are plenty, -boil three hard and add, chopped fine. - -=Nursery Soup= (to be prepared the day before needing it).--Two pounds -of scrag of mutton, or of the knuckle, put into two quarts of cold -water; add two or three sliced turnips, or two spoonfuls rice or pearl -barley or star tapioca, whichever best suits the taste. Simmer slowly -an hour and a half, then take out the meat and set aside; pour the soup -into a large bowl, and leave to cool till next day. In the morning skim -off all the fat that has risen on the stock. An hour before needed, -turn the stock into a saucepan and bring it to a boil; cut the meat -from the bones in fine mouthfuls. Mince very fine a small onion, a -little parsley and celery; add a bit of butter the size of a nutmeg, -one table-spoonful browned flour; burn an _even_ table-spoonful of -sugar in an iron spoon; pour a little boiling water over it and stir -it into the browned flour, then stir both into the soup; add the other -articles, and boil all together twenty minutes; serve hot, with small -bits of carefully toasted bread. This is called _nursery_ soup, but it -is not to be scorned by the old folks. - -=Oyster and Clam Soup.=--Fifty oysters, two bunches long clams; -drain all the liquor from the oysters into a farina-kettle, add a -pint of milk, one and a half table-spoonfuls of butter, pepper and -salt to suit the taste; cut off the soft bodies of the clams and put -with the oysters; chop the tough, gristly parts very fine and put -into the liquor; when it boils, add the oysters and clams, with two -table-spoonfuls of powdered cracker or the same of farina. Let all boil -about five minutes, and send to table hot. This makes soup enough for -six persons. - -=Potato Soup.=--Boil and mash potatoes; about three pints when mashed, -to three quarts of rich beef stock; ready boiling; add pepper and salt -to taste; stir gradually into the boiling stock, then pass all through -a sieve and return to the soup-kettle; simmer five minutes, and serve -with fried bread; or, if liked, a half-pint of peas boiled soft, one -onion, one head of celery, two spoonfuls of rice, may be put to the -stock, well boiled, and the potatoes added when all are done; then pass -through the sieve, return to soup-kettle, simmer five minutes, and -serve. - - -FISH. - -=To boil Fresh Fish.=--Clean, wash thoroughly, wipe dry, and then sew -up in a cloth, kept solely for fish, and plunge at once into boiling -water that has been first salted sufficiently. Sew the cloth up on the -_back_ of the fish. Take it out when done, cut the threads down the -back of the fish, and cut the _skin_ of the fish so that in taking off -the cloth, the skin will come off with it, leaving the fish white and -whole. Be careful not to break it, as it should come to the table in -good condition. Eat with egg sauce or plain drawn butter. A fat shad is -very nice boiled; but most people prefer cod, rock-fish, or bass. - -=Baked Salmon Trout, with Cream Gravy.=--Wash and clean the fish -carefully, wipe dry and lay in the bake-pan, with only enough water to -keep from scorching. If very large, score the backbone a little, but -do not cut the sides. Bake slowly, basting with butter and water, from -three quarters of an hour to an hour, according to the size. Have ready -a cup of rich cream, into which stir three or four table-spoonfuls -of boiling water, else the cream will clot when heated. Into this -stir gently two table-spoonfuls of melted butter and a little chopped -parsley. Put this into a milk-boiler or farina-kettle, or any vessel -that you can set into another, half filled with boiling water, to -prevent the sauce from burning. Add to the cream and butter the gravy -from the dripping-pan in which the fish was baked. Lay the trout on -a hot platter and let the gravy boil up once, and then pour over the -fish. Garnish with sprigs of parsley, arranged neatly. Use no spiced -sauces and very little salt. Serve hot. - -To fully appreciate the excellence of this fish with the cream sauce or -gravy, one should be able to eat it a very short time after it is taken -from the water, but the cream sauce is a great improvement to most -baked fish. - -=Boiled Salmon Trout.=--Wash and dry the fish after cleaning it -nicely. Wrap in a clean fish-cloth, lay it in a fish-kettle, cover with -cold, salted water, and boil slowly from half to three quarters of an -hour, according to the size of the fish. When done, take off the cloth -gently, so as not to break the trout; lay in a hot fish-platter and -pour around it cream gravy like that used for baked salmon trout, and -serve hot. - -All fish, boiled or baked, are improved by cream gravy. If you cannot -obtain cream, use rich milk, and thicken it a little. - -=Fried Halibut.=--Have the slices seasoned some hours before frying, as -it will be less liable to break in turning; when ready to fry, dip it -in egg beaten up, and roll it in bread crumbs; then fry in hot lard, -or have three or four slices of sweet salt pork fried till quite brown -and crisp, and then fry the halibut in the hot lard which came from the -pork. Dish it and lay the crisp brown pork around it. - -=Fish Chowder.=--Haddock and striped bass are generally considered the -best fish for chowder. Cut the fish in pieces about one inch thick -and two inches square. Cut five or six good slices of the best salt -pork, lay them in the bottom of an iron pot and fry till crisped, -but do not scorch; take out the pork, leaving the fat; chop the pork -in small pieces; put into the pot a layer of fish, a layer of split -crackers and some of the chopped pork; a little red and black pepper; a -little chopped onion; then another layer of fish, split crackers, and -seasoning, and so on till all the fish is used. Then just cover all -with water, and stew slowly till tender. Thicken the gravy with cracker -crumbs and catsup if you like. Take out the fish, boil up the gravy -once, squeeze in the juice of a lemon, and pour the gravy over the -fish. Add salt if necessary. - -=To prepare and dress Cold Fish.=--Cut cold boiled fish into pieces -about an inch long. Do not chop it. Take the yelks of four eggs, -hard boiled, and rub them to a smooth paste with a few spoonfuls -of salad-oil or melted butter. Add a little salt, pepper, and -mustard,--the exact amount must be decided by your own taste and -knowledge of how highly seasoned your family like their food. Add -two teaspoonfuls of white sugar; rub all in with the paste, and -the last thing after getting the paste perfectly smooth put in six -table-spoonfuls of vinegar. Beat the mixture till very light, and just -before pouring it over the fish beat the whites of two eggs to a stiff -froth and stir in with it. Stir half the dressing into the picked-up -fish. Serve in a glass dish, and spread the other half of the dressing -over the top. Garnish with delicate leaves of lettuce, to be eaten with -it. - -=Newport Fish Pudding.=--Pick any cold fish left from the dinner into -fine bits, carefully removing all the bones. Thicken some boiling milk -with flour, wet to a batter with cold milk, and stir the fish into it; -season with pepper, butter, and salt. Put it into a pudding-dish, and -spread cracker or bread crumbs thickly over the top to prevent the milk -from scorching, and set into the oven to bake just long enough to brown -nicely. A good way to use up cold fish, making a nice breakfast or a -side-dish for dinner. - -=Fish-Balls.=--Salt codfish is usually preferred for making fish-balls, -although any fresh boiled fish left over from dinner is very nice. When -the salt cod is used, it should be put in a damp place for a day or -two before using, to soften. Early in the evening, before needed, it -should be thoroughly washed in several waters, rubbing it well, then -put to soak in a large quantity of lukewarm water. Just before bedtime -pour off the first water, and add more lukewarm water; wash again in -clean water in the morning, rubbing off all the salt crystal that may -adhere, particularly on the under side, and place over the fire, in -enough warm water to fully cover it. Let it come to the boiling point -slowly, but don’t let it really boil; keep it simmering a half-hour. -If the fish is very salt, turn off this water and cover again with -boiling water, and let it simmer fifteen or twenty minutes, then drain -and spread it out to cool; remove every bone and bit of skin, and when -perfectly cold pick to pieces very fine with a fork. While the fish is -cooling have nice mealy potatoes boiling over the fire; when done, mash -smooth and light, and add to the picked-up fish a little more than its -weight of potatoes, say a pound and a quarter of potatoes to a pound of -fish. For a dozen balls add one well-beaten egg, or two if plenty, or -two table-spoonfuls of rich cream, two spoonfuls of butter; beat all -together and form into neat balls with your hands--which should be well -floured--and drop them into a kettle or large saucepan of boiling lard -or drippings, and fry a good clear brown. Plainer fish-balls may be -made if desirable, omitting eggs and cream, and using less butter. - -=Codfish Balls.=--Soak in warm water as much salt codfish as is needed, -judging by the size of the family. Let it stand in the water all night. -In the morning pick out all the bones, press out the water, and chop -fine. Boil the potatoes in the skin. When done, peel and mash while hot -twice as much potato as you have fish; mix well together and moisten -with cream or a little new milk, with a great spoonful of butter. Have -some well-clarified drippings or sweet lard ready in a saucepan. Let it -get boiling hot, and then put in the fish-balls. They should be made a -little more than half an inch thick. Fry a good, clear brown, taking -care not to scorch them. One egg well beaten is an improvement. - -=Scalloped Crabs.=--Wash the crabs and put into a kettle of boiling -water, throw in a handful of salt. Boil from twenty minutes to half an -hour. Take them from the water when done, and pick out all the meat; -be careful and not break the shell. To a pint of meat put a little -salt and pepper; we cannot give the exact amount, as tastes differ so -widely; but taste, and if there is not enough add more, a little at a -time till suited. Grate in a very little nutmeg, and add one spoonful -cracker or bread crumbs, two eggs well beaten, and two table-spoonfuls -of butter (even full); stir all well together; wash the shells clean -and fill each shell full of the mixture; sprinkle crumbs over the top -and set in the oven till of a nice brown; a few minutes will do it. -Send to the table hot. - -=Oyster Pie.=--Line a deep dish with good puff paste, not too rich. -Roll out the upper crust, and lay on a plate just the size of the -oyster-dish; set it on the top of the dish and put into the oven, as -the crust must be nearly cooked before the oysters are put in, for they -require less time than the crust. While the crust is baking, strain -the liquor from the oysters; thicken it with the yelks of eggs, boiled -hard and grated,--three eggs for seventy-five oysters; add two even -table-spoonfuls of butter, and the same quantity of bread or cracker -crumbs; season with pepper, salt, and mace or nutmeg,--a very little of -either,--and by tasting, be sure that you do not season it too much; to -add is very easy, but to take out seasoning in cooking is a difficult -task. Let the liquor just boil; then slip in the oysters, and as soon -as they come to a boil, stir well and remove the plate with top crust, -and pour them and their gravy into the hot bake-dish; place the top -crust over, and return to the oven for five minutes. Send to the table -hot. - -=Oyster Fritters.=--Drain off the liquor and wipe the oysters dry; -season with a little pepper and salt, if not salt enough. Make a batter -with a pint of milk and flour enough to mix not very stiff. Beat the -yelks of three eggs thoroughly, and put to the batter, beating all a -good deal. Whisk the whites to a stiff, dry froth, and stir in gently -the last thing. Take up a spoonful of batter on a spoon, lay an oyster -on top, and cover with a little more batter, and with a broad knife -slip this off gently into a pan of boiling lard. When brown on both -sides, drain on a perforated plate, and send to the table hot. - -=To Fry Oysters.=--Take from the shells carefully so as not to tear -or break them; dry in a clean fish-cloth; beat the yelks of eggs with -thick cream,--one yelk to two table-spoonfuls of cream; rub together -some bread or cracker crumbs, a little salt and cayenne pepper. Have -half a pound of butter boiling hot in a skillet; dip each oyster in the -beaten yelks and cream; then roll in the cracker crumbs, taking pains -to have the crumbs adhere thickly to the oyster. Drop into the skillet, -and fry of a light brown on each side. They should be crisp and light. -Drain free from all grease, and serve hot. - -=Lobster Patties.=--Boil two or three good lobsters; take out all the -meat, and chop very fine; mash the coral smooth, and mix with the meat. -Boil three or four eggs hard, and _grate_ the yelks, mashing or rolling -the whites to make them heavy and waxy. Season the whole with salt, -cayenne, a very little pounded mace or nutmeg, and a small portion of -lemon-rind, grated. Moisten the whole with cream, fresh butter, or -salad-oil. (Be careful that you do not use too much of any of these -seasonings. It will make the whole bitter. In all of these strong -flavors, only just an _intimation_ that they are present is necessary.) -Put it into a stewpan, add a little water, put over the fire till it -just comes to a boil; then remove from the fire. Make puff paste, and -line deep patty-pans. Bake the paste before filling, while preparing -the lobster. As soon as the lobster has been removed from the fire, -and is partially cooled, take the crust from the oven and fill the -patty-pans with the mixture to the top. Crabs or prawns may be made -into patties in a similar manner. - -=Lobster Rissoles.=--Boil the lobster, take out the meat, mince it -fine; pound the coral smooth, and grate the yelks of three hard-boiled -eggs for one lobster. Season with cayenne pepper, a little nutmeg, -and salt. Make a batter of milk, flour, and well-beaten eggs,--two -table-spoonfuls of milk and one of flour to each egg. Beat this batter -well, and mix the lobster with it gradually, till it is stiff enough to -roll into balls the size of a large plum. Fry in fresh butter, or the -best salad-oil, and serve up either warm or cold. Similar rissoles may -be made of raw oysters minced fine, or of boiled clams. These should be -fried in lard. - -=Fish Sauce.=--Four ounces of butter blended with three table-spoonfuls -of flour; stir in gradually half a pint of boiling water, stirring all -the time. When smooth, put it into a farina-kettle or milk-boiler, and -let boil five minutes. If too thick, add a little more water. Beat two -eggs to a foam, and stir in the last thing before removing it from the -fire. A little parsley chopped fine added to this sauce, or an onion, -is relished by some. - -=A good Breakfast Dish.=--When any boiled fresh fish is left from -dinner, take out all the bones carefully, and pick the fish up in small -bits. Cover the bottom of a deep dish with some of the fish, and, if -needed, a little pepper and salt, and a few spoonfuls of the fish -sauce, if any was left from dinner; then sprinkle over some fine bread -crumbs; then another layer of fish, with sauce; then bread crumbs, -until the dish is full. If all the fish sauce is used without making -the composition quite moist, beat two eggs very light, and add a cup of -milk and pour over the whole; then cover with more bread crumbs, and -set in the oven long enough to heat through and brown delicately. If -no fish sauce is left over, take two great spoonfuls of butter, cut in -little bits, and lay in alternately with the fish and crumbs; use four -eggs instead of two, and a pint of milk. - -=Best Mode of Roasting Fish, Ducks, &c.=--The very best way of cooking -fish and fowl ever devised is familiar to woodmen, but unknown to city -epicures. It is this: Take a large fish,--say a trout of three or four -pounds, fresh from its gambols in the cool stream,--cut a small hole in -the neck and abstract the intestines. Wash the inside clean, and season -it with pepper and salt; or, if convenient, fill it with bread crumbs -or crackers chopped up with meat. Make a fire outside the tent, and -when it has burned down to embers, rake it open, put in the fish, and -cover it with coals and hot ashes. Within an hour take it from its bed, -peel off the skin from the clean flesh, and you will have a trout with -all its original juices and flavors preserved within it,--a dish too -good, as Izaak Walton would say, “for any but very honest men.” - -Grouse, ducks, and various other fowls can be cooked deliciously in a -similar way. The intestines of the bird should be taken out by a small -hole at the vent, and the inside washed and stuffed as before. Then wet -the feathers thoroughly, and cover with hot embers. When the cooking -is finished, peel off the burnt feathers and skin, and you will find -underneath a lump of nice juicy flesh, which, when once tasted, will -never be forgotten. The peculiar advantage of this method of roasting -is that the covering of embers prevents the escape of juices by -evaporation. This comes from the “Trappers’ Guide,” and we know it is -good. - - -MEATS. - - -BEEF. - -=Leicestershire Hunting Beef.=--Take four ounces saltpetre or one of -allspice. Rub it over a nice round of beef very thoroughly. Let it -stand twenty-four hours, then rub it in as much common salt as will be -needed to salt it to suit your taste. Keep it in a cool place twelve -days, turning it every day, then put it into a deep pan and cover it, -upper and under side, with three pounds of beef suet. Then cover with -a thick paste, and bake slowly for six hours. It will keep for six -months, and is highly spoken of by English people. We have never tried -it, but by request give the receipt, which we have had for a long time -in our possession. - -=Spiced Beef.=--Boil a shin of ten or twelve pounds of beef until the -meat readily falls from the bone. Pick the meat to pieces and mash the -gristle very fine, rejecting all parts that are too hard to mash. Set -the liquor in which it was boiled away till cool, then take off all the -fat. Boil the liquor down to a pint and a half; then return the meat to -the liquor, and, while hot, add any salt and pepper that may be needed, -a half-teaspoonful of cloves, the same of cinnamon, a little nutmeg, a -half-spoonful of parsley chopped fine, a very little sage and summer -savory, if agreeable, not quite half a salt-spoonful. Let it boil up -once, and put it into a mold or deep dish to cool. Cut in thin slices -for breakfast or tea. - -=Curried Beef.=--In reply to inquiries how to use “_curry_ powder,” we -give the following: Put in a saucepan over the fire two table-spoonfuls -of butter, and, when hot, put in two small onions, sliced very thin; -fry until brown; then add a table-spoonful and a half of curry powder, -mixing all well together. Take three pounds of the best of a round -of beef; cut in pieces an inch square; pour over it the milk of a -cocoa-nut, and a quarter of the meat of the nut grated very fine and -squeezed through muslin; moisten with a little water,--only enough to -make it pass through the muslin easily. The cocoa-nut meat and milk -soften the taste of the curry, and no _curry_ is ever made in India -without it. If this does not make liquor enough, add half a teacup -boiling water, and let the whole simmer for thirty minutes. Serve hot, -in a dish with sliced lemon, and a wall of mashed potatoes or boiled -rice around it. - -=Meat Pie.=--Cut up some pieces of good, tender raw beef or mutton, -season with pepper, salt, and, if liked, one finely minced onion. Boil -a half-dozen good-sized mealy potatoes, mash smooth and wet with enough -milk to form a dough to make the crust; salt to please the taste; roll -out full half an inch thick, and line a buttered dish large enough to -hold the meat. Lay in the meat, add a teacup of water, or less if the -pie is to be for a small family, then roll out a thick crust of the -potato, covering the top of the pie at least an inch thick, and bake -about an hour and a half. - -=Beef Collops.=--Cut the fillet from the under part of a rump of beef -into thin slices; broil quickly until nearly done, then put into a -stewpan with a little beef stock; add two or three slices of lemon or -pickled cucumber and two table-spoonfuls of catsup, and stew till -tender. Half a pint of oysters added ten minutes before it is done is a -great improvement. - -=To Cook a Beefsteak.=--Put a frying-pan over the stove till it becomes -quite hot. Have your steak well pounded or mangled,--a sirloin steak is -very good for this purpose,--lay it on the hot, dry pan and cover it -instantly as tightly as possible. When the meat touches the heated pan -it will seethe and adhere to it, but in a few seconds it will become -loosened and juicy; turn the steak every half-minute, but be careful -to do it as quickly as possible, so that it may not be long uncovered. -When nearly done, sprinkle on pepper and salt, lay a small piece of -butter on the steak, and add a table-spoonful of strong coffee. This -makes a delicious broiled steak. Or, if you wish much gravy, shake a -little flour over the steak when just done, and pour in three or four -table-spoonfuls of cream, let it just boil up, under cover, and when -the meat is done, take the pan from the fire, remove the meat, stir -in quickly the well-beaten yelk of an egg, and serve hot. If cream is -used, omit the coffee. Mutton or ham may be cooked in the same way, -only they should be over the fire longer than beef. - -=Rump Steak, with Oyster Sauce.=--Broil the steak nicely; put four even -table-spoonfuls of butter into a frying-pan, add pepper and salt to -your taste; shake in a table-spoonful of flour, and add the juice of -half a lemon; when it begins to boil up, put in as many oysters as can -be used in this preparation; let them heat through and just boil up -once, taking care to shake the pan and keep its contents stirring all -the time it is over the fire. When the oysters are done,--a pint to one -steak is about the right quantity,--pour all over the steak, and serve. - -=A French Broil.=--Select a spider or saucepan with a smooth, clean -bottom, set it over the range or stove till really _hot_, then lay on -a good tenderloin or sirloin steak; keep the spider very hot, and turn -the steak as often as every two minutes,--no longer; when half done, -sprinkle over salt and pepper to suit the taste of those who are to -eat it; continue to turn the steak often till sufficiently done; just -as you are ready to take up and dish the steak, dust a little flour -over it, spread on a table-spoonful of butter, or, if a large steak, a -little more; turn it over, dust on more flour, and spread on the butter -as on the first side; turn again, set the saucepan back from the hot -fire, take the steak on to the platter, and set in a heater or oven to -keep hot, but not to cook any more; shake more flour into the butter -in the saucepan, set again over the fire, and as soon as the butter -bubbles up through the flour, rub it smooth with a spoon and pour in -a few spoonfuls of boiling water; stir constantly, and as soon as it -thickens, pour over the steak, and serve hot. - -=Beefsteak Rolls.=--Cut small, thin steaks from the round; fry them -slightly; make a stuffing as for roast veal or turkey; spread it over -the steaks, roll them up tightly, and sew or tie up neatly. Stew them -in rich beef stock or brown gravy twenty minutes, and serve hot, with -the gravy poured over. A half-teacup of rich cream added a few minutes -before serving is a great improvement. - -=Beef Croquettes.=--Chop cold roast beef or veal with one onion very -fine; add a little sweet-marjoram, half a teaspoonful of powdered -cloves, and as much salt and pepper as will be palatable. Moisten with -a rich beef gravy, from which all the fat has cooled and been removed. -Roll into balls, dip in beaten eggs, roll in flour, or bread or cracker -crumbs, and fry in good, sweet lard. - -=Mock Duck.=--Prepare a good dressing, such as you like for turkey -or duck; take a round steak, pound it, but not very hard, spread the -dressing over it, sprinkle in a little salt, pepper, and a few bits of -butter, lap over the ends, roll the steak up tight and tie it closely; -spread two great spoonfuls of butter over the steak after rolling it -up, then wash with a well-beaten egg, put water in the bake-pan, lay in -the steak so as not to touch the water, and bake as you would a duck, -basting often. A half-hour in a brisk oven will cook it. Make a brown -gravy, and send to table hot. - -=A Nice Breakfast Dish.=--Grate some cold tongue or beef, put it into -a stewpan with a little pepper and salt, and four table-spoonfuls of -cream or milk; when quite hot, put in four well-beaten eggs; stir -all the time till the mixture is quite thick; have ready some nicely -toasted bread, well buttered, and spread the tongue or beef over it; -send to table hot. - -=Mock Venison.=--Cut a nice piece of _corned beef_ in thin slices and -soak three or four hours in tepid water, changing the water often. -Be sure and have plenty of water to soak it in. When sufficiently -freshened, drain, wipe dry, put on a hot gridiron, and broil quickly, -turning often, only enough to be fully hot through. Make a gravy of -drawn butter, add a little pepper, taste before adding salt; chop fine -the yelk of an egg boiled hard, and, if agreeable, a little boiled -onion, and pour over it; or simply butter, pepper, and a little salt, -as for beefsteak. This is an excellent dish when so situated as to -have little opportunity for fresh meat, but a _fresh_ beefsteak thus -seasoned is better. - -=To prepare Cold Roast Beef or Mutton.=--Cut off the meat as thin as -possible; dip each slice in flour; cover the bottom of a deep dish with -a layer of meat thus prepared; dust over it a little pepper, salt, -sage, and sweet-marjoram,--_very little_ of each; add another layer of -the meat dipped in flour and seasoned in the same way. Continue this -till the dish is half full, then pour over it what gravy was left, -being careful to remove every particle of fat. If not gravy enough, -substitute water. Turn in half a teacup of catsup, or half a pint of -tomatoes, adding a little clove or allspice. Add water enough to fill -it nearly full, fit a plate tightly over it to keep in the flavor, -and bake two hours. Boil some potatoes and mash them, adding a little -salt, butter, and milk. Make it into a high wall around the edge of a -well-heated platter; beat up an egg and brush over the potatoes, and -when the meat is done, turn it into the platter; slip it again into the -oven, to remain long enough to brown the potatoes a fine golden brown. -The poorest and toughest parts of uncooked beef may be made deliciously -tender if prepared in this manner, but it must be in the oven one hour -longer. - -=Economical Breakfast Dish.=--If you have a few bits of meat or two or -three cold potatoes left over, put some “drippings” into a skillet; -slice the potatoes thin, cut the meat up fine, and add salt and pepper -to taste; then beat two or three eggs, according to the size of the -dish to be prepared; stir them into a cup of cream or milk, and pour -over the meat and potatoes. If eggs are not plenty, use fewer eggs and -more milk or cream. If milk, add a half table-spoonful of butter. Keep -it over the fire, stirring constantly, till the eggs are cooked. It -takes but a few moments to prepare this; but do not leave it an instant -till done, or the eggs will burn and ruin the whole. - -=A “Two Story.”=--A genuine farmer’s dish, but fit to set before a -king,--so we are assured by one who knows. - -Peel and slice thin potatoes and onions (five potatoes to one small -onion); cut half a pound of sweet salt pork in thin slices to a pound -of beef, mutton, or veal; cut the meat in small pieces; take some nice -bread dough and shorten a little, and line the bottom of the stewpan -with slices of pork; then a layer of meat, potatoes, and onions; dust -over a little pepper, and cover with a layer of crust; then more pork, -meat, and vegetables; then more crust. Repeat this till the stew-pot -is full,--the size of the pot will depend on the number of the family; -pour in sufficient water to cover; finish with crust. Let it simmer -till meat, vegetables, etc., are done, but do not let it boil hard. -Serve hot. - - -MUTTON AND LAMB. - -=Shoulder of Mutton Boiled.=--All mutton should hang in a cool place -till quite tender before being used, but be careful that it does not -hang long enough to acquire the least rust or taint. When the shoulder -has hung till tender, bone it; rub a little salt over it, and let it -lie in a deep dish for two days, turning it over each day and rubbing -in a little more salt,--half a table-spoonful each time. Meat to boil -requires more salt than for roasting. On the third day, sprinkle over -the inside one teaspoonful of pepper and half a teaspoonful of powdered -mace. Spread twenty oysters over the inside; roll the meat up tightly -and tie securely; put it into the stewpan or boiler with just enough -boiling water to cover it; throw in six peppercorns, or seeds of the -red pepper, and one onion chopped; shut the cover over very closely, -and stew; twenty minutes’ cooking for each pound of meat is the proper -time. Stew twenty-four oysters in a pint of good stock or gravy; add a -table-spoonful of butter and enough flour to thicken it. When the meat -is done, lay it in a good-sized platter and pour the gravy over it. - -=Shoulder of Mutton Spiced.=--Bone carefully a shoulder of mutton, -after it has hung till tender. For every pound of meat mix two ounces -of brown sugar, one salt-spoonful of cloves, one teaspoonful each of -mace and pepper, and half a salt-spoonful of ginger; rub these spices -thoroughly into the meat; lay it into a deep dish, and the next day -rub in two teaspoonfuls of salt for every pound of meat, and add one -pint and a half of good beef gravy for the whole joint. Turn the meat -over; rub it well with this pickle every day for a week or ten days, -letting it remain in the pickle all the time after each rubbing. At the -end of the week or ten days, roll it up tightly, bind with a string, -and stew gently in beef broth four hours. Serve hot in its own gravy, -and eat with any piquant sauce or catsup. - -=Mutton Stew.=--Take such scraps of mutton or lamb as are not fit -for chops or cutlets; just cover with water; add a little onion and -parsley, if not disagreeable, and season well with black and red -pepper; boil two eggs hard, or, if making a good-sized stew, use more -(two are plenty for five persons); mash or grate the yelks fine, and -stir them into a table-spoonful of butter and the same amount of -browned flour. Stir this into the stew just before dishing, to season -and thicken the gravy. Let it boil up once after adding this, and serve -as soon as it thickens. - -=Roasting a Leg of Lamb.=--Slice salt pork very thin, cutting two -slices down to the rind, leaving the rind on to make the piece as large -as possible; make as many of these thin slices as will cover the whole -leg; then wrap the whole in grape-leaves; pass a string round to keep -them on, and roast. It is said the lamb will be exceedingly juicy and -of delicious flavor. Never baste meat with butter, but with rich soup -stock. - -=To use Cold Lamb.=--When lamb or mutton is left in good shape,--and -it is the fault of the carver if it is not always left neatly,--cut -off some chops; trim off the greater portion of fat, and saw or cut -off the end of the bone. Heat a platter, and pour into the centre some -nicely cooked fresh green peas, or in winter canned peas. Heap them in -the centre in the shape of a pyramid; brown the chops quickly over a -bright fire, season in a hot plate with pepper, salt, and butter, and -then arrange them around the peas, the small end laid upon the pyramid -of peas. Garnish the edge of the dish with slices of hard-boiled eggs, -each circled in a fringe of curled parsley. Serve hot. - -=Mint Sauce.=--Three table-spoonfuls of fresh mint finely chopped, five -table-spoonfuls of vinegar and two of sugar, dissolved in the vinegar. -To be used with roast lamb or chops. - -If so much vinegar is disagreeable, use one third water and a little -more sugar. - - -VENISON. - -=Jerked Venison.=--Take the haunches when the deer is first killed; -rub in as much salt as you can; press and squeeze the meat hard with -your hands to get out all the blood; then hang it up in some covered -alley or shed, where the sun will not directly strike it, but where the -dry breezes will sweep over it. If not quite salt enough the next day, -rub more salt on; squeeze and press out all the blood which may still -remain, and hang up again. Two or three days will dry it. When needed, -cut off nice slices, rather thin; lay them in a dish of cold water a -short time to soften a little, then broil, serving with pepper and -salt. Or, fry a piece of bacon crisp; then lay the pieces of venison -into the hot fat, and warm through quickly; shake a little flour over -the meat, and when done salt and pepper; place the meat on a hot -platter; sift a little more flour into the pan; let it boil up; add a -few spoonfuls of boiling water; boil up again, and pour the brown gravy -over the venison. It is very sweet and palatable. - -In Florida, beef is also cured, or dried, so as to keep for several -days. Cellars or ice houses not being common, it is necessary to resort -to some means of keeping it. Take a fine round of beef, and cut in -slices as large as your hand and about half an inch thick. String them -on a strong cord, and hang up high in some place where the sun will -not shine directly on it, but where a good breeze of hot air will pass -over it. Build a fire of dry leaves or bits of paper, and place at one -end of the place where the meat is hung, so that the wind will take -the smoke under and over it; this will keep the flies away till the -outside of the meat is too dry for them to injure it. A day or two in -the dry breezes here will cure it, so that it may be put in paper bags -and kept in a dark, dry place several days, to broil as it is needed. -It is wonderfully sweet, probably because in drying all the juices of -the meat are secured. Our Northern air is not so drying, but we see no -reason why, in summer, those who have not smoke or ice houses could -not hang meat under the trees, away from the sun, keeping up a smoke -sufficient to drive away flies but not strong enough to heat the meat. -It is an experiment well worth trying. - -=Venison Steaks.=--Heat the gridiron, grease it well. Lay on the steak; -broil quickly, without scorching, turning it two or three times; season -with salt and pepper. Have the butter melted in a well-heated platter, -into which the steak must be laid hot from the gridiron, turning it -over two or three times in the butter, and send to table hot. It is -well to set the platter into another in which you have some boiling -water. Venison should not be overdone, and must be eaten hot. - - -COOKING IN A “RUMFORD BOILER.” - -In one of our “talks” in Part First we said something of the Rumford -Boiler. We subjoin here a few hints as to the use of it. Other similar -“boilers” or “steamers” or “cookers” can also be advantageously used. -The “Rumford” happens to be the one we have used and thoroughly like. - -=To Roast Beef or Mutton.=--Have boiling water two or three inches deep -in the lower part of the boiler, deep enough to just touch the bottom -of the pan to be set over it. Place the meat in the inner pan _without -water_, first seasoning it with salt and pepper, if agreeable. Put on -the cover, fitting it in tightly. - -When the water begins to boil, set the boiler back on the stove or -range, where it will keep just at the boiling point, and let it remain -cooking the usual time,--fifteen minutes for each pound is generally -thought long enough. When done take it out, dredge with flour and put -into a quick oven to brown, but not scorch. - -It is usually estimated that one pint of gravy is lost when meat is -boiled the usual way. Here you have it all saved in the dish, the pure -juice of the meat making excellent gravy. - -=To Boil a Leg of Lamb or Mutton.=--Keep in the boiler the ordinary -length of time, with no water in the receiver or pan (which in all -cases should be tightly closed), and send to the table without browning. - -=Corned Beef.=--If very salt, the beef should be soaked in cold water -three or four hours; then put it in the inner vessel with _cold_ water -enough to cover it. Keep the water in the bottom receiver boiling -slowly till the beef is done. Salt meat needs to be cooked longer than -fresh; fifteen minutes to a pound for fresh, and twenty minutes for -salt, is the rule usually given, but we have not found the latter long -enough. A piece weighing nine pounds should cook four hours, if without -much bone, and three with bone. We think that better--more sure--than -twenty minutes to a pound. - -The water in which salt meat is thus cooked makes excellent stock -for soup. If too salt (it should not be if the beef was properly -freshened), add water sufficient to make it right. - -=To Cook a Ham.=--Freshen the ham by soaking in cold water three or -four hours, then scrape clean and wipe dry. Stick a few cloves into -it, rub on a half cup of sugar, and put in the inner vessel _without -any water_; _cover closely_, and set over the boiling water in the -bottom of the boiler; bring to a boil, and then set back a little that -it may cook slowly till tender, about four hours. This will be found -very excellent in flavor, far surpassing ham boiled in the common way. -If liked, when done, the ham may be set in a quick oven and delicately -browned, like roast beef or mutton. - -=Fish.=--Season a fresh fish with salt, pepper, and a table-spoonful -of butter, and put in the receiver, or inner pan, _without any water_; -cover closely, and cook for half an hour. Thicken the juices of the -fish which will be found in the pan with a little flour, wet in cold -water, and let it simmer a few minutes in the pan, closely covered. -This makes an excellent sauce for the fish. - -Steaks of cod, salmon, halibut, or any other fish, usually fried, are -excellent cooked in this “Rumford Boiler,” and need no butter or sauce -besides the juice which will be left in the vessel, and pepper and salt. - -We have tried all these receipts since we possessed this excellent -boiler, and can testify to the superiority of each dish over that -cooked in the usual way. - -We have cooked all our vegetables--corn, peas, beets, potatoes--in the -pans that are made to fit over the first vessel with tight covers, and -are greatly pleased with the improvement. It must be remembered that -each vessel should be closely covered, and over all the cover for the -whole boiler. Bread of all kinds and loaf cake are delicious cooked in -a “Rumford,” and when done put into the oven to brown. - - -VEAL. - -=Meats for June.=--It is more difficult to obtain good meats in -June than any part of the year. Lamb is still quite expensive, and -“broilers” or spring chickens are dear and very little of them. What -you can manage to pick off is dry, stringy, and, we cannot but think, -indigestible. Veal is the only meat within the reach of all classes; -but be very sure that you obtain that which has been healthily fed, and -butchered as humanely as is possible. It is well that we do not see or -know all the barbarity of the butchers’ shops, or we should perforce -become vegetarians. There are many ways of using the less desirable -portions of veal, that when properly carried out make some very -inviting breakfast or tea dishes. - -=Calf’s Head and Harslet.=--The head to be split open, the grease -screened off, and eyes taken out, before bringing from the butcher’s. -Wash very carefully, and scrape thoroughly. Take out the brains and -put into a bowl of cold water; also lay the head, when cleaned, into a -large pan of water. Then see that the harslet is well cleaned; leave -the windpipe on the lights, and let all soak in cold water, and plenty -of it, for half an hour. Have a large pot of boiling water ready. Two -hours before dinner put in the heart and lights, leaving the windpipe -a little way out of the pot to carry off the scum that will rise while -boiling. Put in salt, black and red pepper,--_very_ little of the -latter,--and a little thyme and parsley. One hour after put in the -liver; skim often. When the brains have soaked till free from blood, -pick out all the veins or fibers, roll half a cracker and put it with -the brains and a little parsley into a clean bit of muslin, tie it up, -and put into the kettle with the head, etc. Let it boil from ten to -fifteen minutes; then take it up, add butter, pepper, and salt, and -serve in a small dish by itself. The bones must all be removed from the -head; when well done, they will slip out easily. Lay the meat in the -center of the platter; skin the tongue, and place it with the meat; -remove the windpipe, and lay lights, heart, and liver around. Make a -gravy of drawn butter, with parsley, chopped fine, and two eggs beaten, -and added just as the gravy comes to a boil. Send all to table hot. - -=Head and Harslet Hash.=--Take what may be left from dinner of the -calf’s head and harslet, chop very fine, use a few spoonfuls of the -drawn butter, moisten with the water in which the meat was boiled, put -over the fire till hot, then serve on nice slices of toasted bread, and -you have a breakfast dish even better than the dinner. - -The water in which calf’s head, etc., is boiled, should be carefully -kept, and when cold it will be a stiff jelly. Take off the grease that -will harden on top, and the jelly may be made into a fine mock-turtle -soup. It is still better if, when boiling the head and harslet, you add -two calf’s feet. - -=Veal Pie.=--Take the neck of veal, joint it as small as you can, and -stew, adding just enough boiling water to prevent it from burning. -Season with pepper, salt, and, if liked, a very little onion cut -up fine, and a little parsley or summer savory. Make a crust of -two potatoes, boiled and mashed smooth and free from lumps, two -table-spoonfuls suet chopped _very_ fine, a little salt; stir it -together with ice-cold water. Flour the board, roll out, and scatter -over it thin shavings of hard butter right from the ice; shake over -some flour; lap it together and roll out again. Then put on more -butter, using, in all, four table-spoonfuls, _not heaped_. This done, -sprinkle again with flour, roll it up and put on the ice till the veal -is done, which should not cook over three quarters of an hour. When -tender, pick the meat from most of the bones, leaving a few small ones -to give shape to the pie; roll the meat in well-beaten eggs; three will -suffice to wet it; then roll it in flour; cover the pie-dish with part -of the paste, rolled about a quarter of an inch thick. Cut a strip of -crust to place around the edge of the dish, and lay the meat in neatly, -cutting in a few bits of butter, two table-spoonfuls will do, and pour -over the meat the water in which it was cooked, which should have -boiled down so as to leave only enough to make the pie juicy. Now roll -out the rest of the paste for the upper crust, about three quarters -of an inch thick, cover the pie, cut a slit in the top, and bake. Be -careful not to scorch the crust. - -=Sweetbread Croquettes.=--Trim the sweetbreads neatly; remove all the -gristle; parboil and mince very fine; add grated bread seasoned with -salt and pepper, and a very little mace, if agreeable; moisten with -cream; stir all well together, and shape them by pressing firmly into -a pear-shaped wineglass or small mold, or mold into little cones by -rolling in your hands. Have ready a beaten egg and fine rolled and -sifted bread or cracker crumbs. Dip each croquette into the egg and -roll in the crumbs; stick a fruit-stem into the cone, to look like an -apple or pear, and fry in butter. This is good for cold chicken, beef, -or raw oysters. - -=Veal Patty.=--Four pounds veal-steak, chopped while raw very fine; mix -with it eight butter-crackers rolled, a piece of butter of the size -of an egg, and two well-beaten eggs. Mix all thoroughly together, and -season with pepper and salt. A little sage, thyme, or savory is thought -an improvement by some. Mold into a loaf; put small bits of butter -on top, and cover with grated bread crumbs. Judge of the quantity -of butter necessary by your own taste. If not liked very rich, two -table-spoonfuls of butter cut up and sprinkled over will be plenty. -Bake two hours. When cold, cut off slices as from a loaf of bread, for -tea or side-dishes. - -=Minced Veal.=--Mince the veal very fine with a little ham, a -table-spoonful of flour, three well-beaten eggs, one small onion -scalded for five or ten minutes to remove the coarser flavor and then -chopped fine; sweet herbs, pepper, and salt to suit the taste. Butter -a deep pie-plate, set a small cup in the center, and fill the plate -all around the cup with the mince-meat. Bake of a delicate brown; -then remove the cup and fill its place with some nice sauce,--apple, -cranberry, or jelly, or, if you please, some scalloped oysters. Beef, -lamb, or chicken prepared in the same way is very good. - -=Veal Hash.=--Boil a shin of veal which has about three pounds of meat -on it in as small a quantity of water as you can, so that when done -there shall be one quart of water left. Boil the day before needed, -that it may be perfectly cold. When the meat is well done, lay it -anywhere where it will be away from the air, but do not wrap it in a -cloth. Save all the liquor in a separate dish. The next morning cut up -all the meat; chop not quite so fine as for the “mince.” Half an hour -before you send it to the table, put it over the fire in a covered -stewpan with the liquor; have ready half a pint of hot-drawn butter and -eight hard-boiled eggs; remove the shells, mince all but two, and add -to the meat. As soon as it boils up, remove from the fire; season with -salt, cayenne pepper, and a little black pepper. Cut the two eggs in -slices, and when the meat is placed in a dish, lay them over the top -neatly. Send to table hot. - -=Veal Loaf.=--Three pounds of veal cutlet, a quarter of a pound salt -pork chopped very fine. Three Boston crackers rolled fine, three -well-beaten eggs, one wineglass claret or currant wine, half a cup -of tomato catsup, five ripe tomatoes, if in season, or a teacup of -canned tomatoes; one onion chopped fine, if not disagreeable; juice and -chopped peel of one orange or lemon, whichever is the most palatable; -one small teaspoonful each of pepper, cloves, sweet-marjoram, sage, and -salt. Mix these very thoroughly with the meat, and mold into a loaf. -Place in a dripping-pan, cover the top with cracker crumbs, and bake -three hours. While baking, keep some butter and hot water on the side -of range, and baste the loaf with it often and thoroughly. Let it stand -in a cool place till the second day before cutting. Excellent as a -relish for breakfast or tea. - -=Croquettes.=--These are a sort of mince-meat dumpling. Take some cold -veal, chicken, lobster, or tender cold beef, chopped fine. Put a half -table-spoonful of butter in a saucepan on the fire. When melted, put in -a piece of onion chopped fine; fry a little; add half a table-spoonful -of flour. When it browns, put in the minced meat; stir it steadily till -heated through, adding salt and pepper. Then add a gill and a half of -broth, and set the pan a little off the fire to simmer. Chop three -stalks of parsley fine, and mix it in on the fire, stirring all the -time. Then break in two eggs, stirring faster; in two or three minutes -take it from the fire and set it to cool. Thus far has occupied about -ten minutes. When the meat is cold, sift some flour on the board; -take a lump of the mince the size of an egg or larger, roll it in the -fine flour, dip it in a cup of beaten egg, drain and roll it in bread -crumbs; have a quantity of boiling suet or drippings in a frying-pan, -and fry the croquettes in them for a couple of minutes, till brown. Put -in a colander and let the fat drain off. - - -POULTRY AND GAME. - -=Steamed Turkey.=--All poultry, after dressing, should remain in cold -water from twenty minutes to half an hour to extract the blood and -leave them white; then hang in a cool place for twenty-four hours, in -winter even longer. They will be much sweeter and finer flavored for it. - -When ready to cook a turkey, see that every pinfeather is taken out, -rinse in cold water, and wipe dry with a cloth used for nothing but -such purposes; rub inside with pepper and salt, and fill with oysters -carefully washed in their own liquor to remove bits of shells; sew -up the turkey, place in a large dish, and set it into a steamer over -boiling water, or in a “Rumford Boiler”; lay a clean cloth over the -steamer and shut the cover on tight, and steam till tender,--two and a -half hours, or, if large, three hours; run a fork into the breast to -see if done. If it seems tender, and no reddish juice flows out, it is -ready to take up; strain the gravy and put into the oyster sauce, which -should be ready while the turkey is cooking, made like stewed oysters -and thickened with farina or butter and flour; let it just boil up, and -add, if you like it white, a little boiled cream; pour this over the -steamed turkey, and serve hot. - -Or, if preferred, the turkey may be stuffed as for a common baked -turkey and steamed; or it may be stuffed with good plump chestnuts -after the skins are removed, and the gravy made with the giblets -chopped fine, adding a little flour as you chop, and the gravy from the -dish stirred to it, and set over the fire to boil up. While the gravy -is being made, rub a little butter over and sprinkle the turkey with -flour very slightly, and set in a hot oven to brown delicately. Many -prefer this to sending to the table right from the steamer with white -gravy poured on. - -=Broiled Chickens.=--First boil the giblets, neck, and tips of the -wings in just enough water to cover them; season with a little pepper -and salt. When tender, pick off what little meat there is on the neck -and wing-tips, and chop with the giblets, very fine, shaking over -them, while chopping, enough flour to make the whole like a paste; -then return it to the water it was boiled in, stirring all together, -and leave it on the range to keep hot. This done, put the chicken on -a well-heated gridiron over a clear fire, covering it closely with a -cover made to fit the gridiron. Cook carefully, turning it often, and -do not let it scorch. When done, it should be of a good, rich, clear -brown, as uniform in color as possible. When partly cooked, sprinkle -salt and pepper over it on both sides. - -Put three great spoonfuls of butter on the platter you have ready to -take the chickens up in; set it into the oven, leaving the door open -lest you break the platter by too strong heat. When the chicken is -well cooked, remove from the gridiron to this platter, turning it over -several times in the melted butter; then pour over all the water in -which the giblets have been put, which should have become a nice thick -gravy; let the platter stand a few moments in the oven until all is -thoroughly blended and heated, then send to the table hot. - -If not in a hurry, it is well to melt butter in a deep kitchen-dish and -put the chicken and gravy into the oven in that, and, when thoroughly -heated through, remove to a hot china platter for the table. There is -a risk of cracking the enamel on nice china or breaking the platter -entirely, if set in the oven where a servant may forget and close the -door. - -=To Bake a Chicken.=--Choose full-grown, plump, well-fattened chickens; -remove all the pinfeathers carefully and singe all the hairs off by -holding a lighted paper under the chicken before opening; then open -with care; see that the gall is not broken in taking out the entrails -and giblets, and that none of the crop or windpipe is left in; then -wash in plenty of cold water; put inside the gizzard, liver, and heart, -when well cleaned and washed, and hang up to drain all night. If -very warm weather, put in a piece of charcoal to keep it sweet. When -ready the next morning to prepare for baking, cut off the neck and -legs, and lay aside with the giblets for gravy; prepare a dressing, -or stuffing, of dried bread rolled fine, with a little salt, pepper, -sage, and summer savory,--the quantity of seasoning must be determined -by the taste of the family; rub salt and pepper inside, fill with the -dressing, putting enough into the neck or crop to give it a plump look; -sew up and skewer. There should be a grate fitted to every meat-pan -on which to lay meat or fowls, to keep them from becoming clammy by -resting in the water; rub your fowls with a little butter and salt, -place on this grate, pour boiling water into the pan, and put into -the oven; let it cook about fifteen minutes, then baste with a little -butter and salted water, kept in a bowl close by; dredge over some -flour, and baste again; repeat the basting three or four times while -the chickens are baking; turn them over every time; cook till a fork -will enter the flesh easily, but taking care not to dry up the meat; -then remove the skewers and thread with which they were sewed, put them -on the platter and place in the heater, or where they will keep hot -till the gravy is ready. - -=Gravy for Roast or Baked Poultry.=--Put the giblets and neck into a -small saucepan, sprinkle over a little salt and pepper, then cover them -with boiling water and set on the back part of stove or range to cook -slowly, as soon as you have put the poultry into the oven; dip the feet -and legs into boiling water long enough to scald off all the leathery -skin, and put them into the saucepan to boil with the giblets and neck. -The feet and lower part of the leg, usually thrown away, contain a -good deal of jelly, which gives a very desirable richness and body to -the gravy, and when boiled tender many think them a great delicacy to -be served whole. When the giblets are boiled tender, chop very fine, -and while chopping dredge over flour till you have made them like a -paste, then put back into the water they were boiled in to simmer -till the chickens are done, stirring occasionally that the chopped -giblets may not stick to the saucepan. After the fowls are taken up, -set the meat-pan on the stove and shake some flour into the liquor at -the bottom of the pan. By the time the poultry is cooked this should -have been done to a brown gravy. After you have put in the flour, do -not stir it until the liquor has boiled up over it, then rub it quite -smooth, and little by little pour in the water in which the chopped -giblets are; stir constantly until it thickens, and if properly managed -you will have a smooth brown gravy of fine flavor. - -=Chicken Pot-Pie.=--Cut up a chicken, or two if a large pie be -required; lay the pieces neatly into the pot, and sprinkle over salt -and pepper to your taste; rub one table-spoonful and a half of flour -and two table-spoonfuls of butter (_even_ full) together, and spread -this paste over the chicken; then cover the whole with good new milk, -or, better still, with cream, if you have it. Set the pot, covered -closely with a tight-fitting cover, where it will not cook or boil -rapidly, but stew or simmer, for three quarters of an hour. While this -is stewing, make a crust of prepared flour, or, if you have none, with -soda and cream of tartar, just as you would for light, tender biscuit; -roll this out quite thick, and cover over the meat. If there be not -enough gravy, add a little more milk boiling hot, or boiling water if -milk be not plenty. Cut a slit in the top of the crust to let the steam -escape. Boil half an hour after the crust is put on, bringing the pot -over a hotter fire, that it may boil, not simmer. In taking it out, -pass a knife around the sides of the pot to loosen the crust; then slip -a long-handled skimmer, as nearly flat as you have, or a batter-cake -turner, carefully under, and try to lift it out so as to break the -crust as little as possible; but it will, if properly made and cooked, -be so light that it will probably break a little. When lifted out, lay -it on a dish and take out the chicken and gravy; then lay the crust -together over it, and serve hot. Lean fresh pork or veal is very nice -cooked in the same way. - -=Fried Chickens.=--Cut up the chickens neatly; lay them in a large -panful of cold water half an hour to extract the blood. Then drain and -put into just enough boiling water to cover them; season with pepper -and salt; parboil for twenty minutes. Fry crisp and brown some thin -slices of salt pork. When the chicken is sufficiently parboiled, drain -it from the water and lay each piece into the hot pork-fat. Dust over -some flour, and fry the chicken a clear brown, turning each piece -when sufficiently brown. When done on both sides, lay each piece on -the platter neatly, and set where it will keep hot but not dry. When -each piece is done and laid on the platter, shake from the dredge-box -into the hot fat enough flour to absorb the fat. Do not stir it till -all the flour is saturated; then with a spoon stir smooth and pour -in, little by little, enough of the water in which the chicken was -parboiled--which should be kept boiling--to make what gravy you need, -stirring it all the time. When thickened and free from lumps, pour on -the chicken, and serve hot. - -=To Cook an Old Fowl.=--Dress and stuff as for roasting; then boil -three hours in a covered pot, with one quart of water, to which add -two table-spoonfuls of vinegar; then take it from the water, rub over -with a little butter, sprinkle over some flour, and put the fowl into -a bake-pan and bake in a hot oven one hour. Use the liquor in the pot -for gravy and to baste with. The vinegar makes it very tender, but does -not taste at all. - -=Roast Duck.=--Select those that are fat and tender. Remove every -pinfeather, and singe off all the hairs; stuff with bread chopped fine, -seasoned with a little sage, summer savory, salt, and pepper; or, if -agreeable, add two onions chopped fine, but unless sure that all who -are to eat can use onions without injury, it is better not to risk -them. Remove the two oil-sacks from the back, or the oil will impart -a strong, disagreeable flavor. Roast carefully till of a nice brown, -basting thoroughly. One hour is quite long enough, as, if too much -cooked, a duck becomes very dry and tasteless. Remove all the fat from -the gravy, and put in the giblets, which should have been cooked and -chopped fine before the ducks were done. When chopping them, dust in -flour, so as to make a paste; then stir it into the gravy; stir till -all lumps have been broken and smoothed; let it cook a few minutes, -then pour in part of the water in which the giblets were boiled; cook -till it is thick and entirely free from lumps, then serve. - -We have been told that a very excellent French cook opens and -_draws_ his poultry, but does not pluck them till they have hung a -few days,--long enough for the substance in the end of the quill to -absorb,--and thus they can be plucked clean leaving no pinfeathers. He -then picks and stuffs them, and lets them hang a day or two longer, -until the whole fowl is flavored with the dressing. We are assured -poultry so prepared is very delicate and finely flavored. We will not -vouch for this; but in part it sounds reasonable, and is well worth -trying, only we think the feathers must impart a strong, oily flavor if -left in so long. - -=To Roast a Goose.=--Select a goose with clean, white skin, plump -breast, and _yellow_ feet. If the feet are red, the bird is old. Let -it hang for a few days, if the weather will permit, as by so doing the -flavor is greatly improved. In dressing, take great care in plucking, -singeing, and drawing the goose, for if the oil-sack is broken over -it, or the gall bladder broken inside, it will be more noticeable and -less easy to remove in a goose than any other poultry. Cut off the neck -close to the back, leaving the skin long enough to tie over. This can -be done by drawing back the skin, while you sever the neck from the -body. Cut off the feet at the first joint, and separate the pinions -at the first joint also; beat the breastbone flat with potato-masher -or rolling-pin. Put a skewer through the under part of each wing; draw -up the legs closely and run a skewer into the middle of each, passing -it quite through the body. Put another skewer into the small part of -the leg, bring it close down to the side-bone, run it through, and -proceed the same way with the other side. Cut off the vent, make a -hole in the skin large enough to draw the rump through, so as to keep -in the seasoning. Make a dressing of mealy potatoes, finely mashed, -two boiled onions chopped very fine, one and a half teaspoonfuls of -powdered sage, one of salt, and one of black pepper. Fill the body -of the goose, and secure it firmly by tying the skin over the neck, -and drawing the rump through the hole cut in the skin. Roast for two -hours, if large, or bake the same length of time; but roasting is much -nicer. Baste often, dredging a little flour over. Do not baste in the -drippings from the goose; they are too strong; but prepare some basting -by putting a little browned butter, salt, and pepper into part of a cup -of boiling water. When half done, drain the fat from the roaster; the -last drippings will not be so strong, and, with the basting water, will -suffice for the gravy. Make a good gravy, in which the giblets finely -chopped, and a little flour for thickening, have been boiled. Put the -gravy into a tureen, and serve the goose with a dish of nice apple or -gooseberry sauce. - -=Wild Goose.=--A wild goose should be cooked rare. One hour’s roasting -is quite sufficient. A cup of currant jelly and a glass of red wine -should be added to the gravy, which is made the same as for a common -goose. Serve hot. - -=To Roast a Green Goose.=--Geese are called _green_ till four months -old. Dress and truss the same as a full-grown goose, but do not stuff -the bird. Put into the body pepper and salt, and a little butter to -moisten it. Roast for an hour; serve with gravy made like the first, -and tomato or sorrel sauce. - -=To Boil a Goose.=--Clean thoroughly, and soak for twelve hours in -warm milk and water. Then dry, and stuff with sage and onions, as for -roasting. Put it into cold water over the fire, and bring to a boil, -then let it simmer gently for an hour and a quarter. Serve with onion -sauce poured over it, and stewed cabbage around it. - -A teaspoonful of made mustard, a salt-spoonful of salt, a few grains of -cayenne, mixed with a glass of port wine, are sometimes poured into the -goose, through a slit made in the apron when about half done, and by -many persons considered a great delicacy. - -Onions may be omitted, if injurious to any who are to partake of it. -They make many persons quite ill, and it is a kindness to avoid using -any seasoning that will disturb your guests. Whatever way a goose is -to be cooked, it is well to soak it over night in milk poured over it -boiling hot. In the morning wash off the milk and put the goose into -a kettle of cold water, set it over the fire, and let it remain till -almost boiling hot, not quite. This removes the strong taste of the -oil, and you can then take it out, dry with a towel, and when cool -stuff and cook as you wish,--either boiled, baked, or roasted. - -=To Stew a Goose.=--Truss the goose as for boiling; cover with thin -slices of bacon and tie it up. Cover the bottom of the saucepan also -with bacon, sprinkle in a very little of sweet herbs powdered, a carrot -cut in dice, and two bay leaves, if you can get them. Lay in the goose -and giblets, cover with bacon, moisten with rich stock enough to cover -the goose; set over the fire and let it boil up; then cover with -buttered paper and a close-fitting cover; set it on a hot hearth with -fire over it. Let it cook an hour and a half. Serve with onion or apple -sauce. - -Both geese and ducks if old, and we think turkeys and chickens also, -are better for being parboiled before roasting. Put in just enough -water to boil them; keep the vessel close covered. Let a tough goose -gently simmer two hours; then dry, wipe clean, stuff, and roast; -basting with a little bacon fat or butter. - -=To Stew Pigeons.=--Pluck and clean the birds with great care. When -drawn, leave them for about an hour to soak in cold water. This -extracts the blood, leaving them white and sweet. This done, take them -out, and tying the legs together, hang the birds up to drain. When dry, -lay them in a deep dish and place on the ice or a cool place overnight. - -The next morning prepare the stuffing of stale bread chopped very fine, -and to it, for twelve pigeons, put one and a half table-spoonfuls of -butter, two teaspoonfuls of salt, one of black pepper; _a little_ sage, -thyme, summer savory, or sweet-marjoram (only a very little,--the -exact quantity cannot well be given more explicitly,--too much will -spoil it; better err by using too little, and profit by the experience -the next time). Rub a little salt and pepper outside and inside of each -bird, then fill with the stuffing and sew them up, passing the thread -through the legs and wings to make them lie close to the body; then -rub a little butter over the birds, dredge with flour, put them into a -bake-pan and place in a quick oven to brown. While this is being done, -chop a little fresh parsley, making, when fine, half a table-spoonful, -and put it to two table-spoonfuls of butter and the same of flour; -beat all together till smooth. Brown the birds on both sides; twenty -minutes should do it, if your oven is of the right heat. Lay a small -saucer or plate on the bottom of a close-covered iron stew-kettle or -into a soup-digester, and put the birds when browned into the kettle, -packing them compactly as you can; spread over them the smoothly beaten -flour, butter, and parsley, and pour in enough rich milk to cover the -pigeons (cream is better, but that is a luxury belonging to the country -chiefly). Set them on the stove or range where they will steadily -simmer four hours. They must not boil hard; occasionally stir them from -the bottom with a spoon, to prevent them from sticking, but do not -break them. When done, take up and place them neatly on a large, deep -platter, pour the gravy over the birds, trim the edges of the platter -with a neat fringe of green parsley, and send to the table hot. - -=Wild Squabs.=--After dressing the birds, let them soak in cold water a -half-hour to extract the blood, then drain off the water, wipe dry on -a clean meat-cloth, and set on the ice till needed. (They are better -to be dressed one day and cooked the next.) Let the gridiron be bright -and clean; set it over the fire till hot, then lay the birds on, being -careful that the fire is not so hot as to scorch. Turn them over every -minute or two; when half done sprinkle salt and pepper over them and -finish. Have a _thin_ slice of bread toasted and spread with butter to -lay under each bird; place the birds on the bread, put butter on each -and set in the oven a moment, and send to the table hot. It is well -to have the bread toasted, buttered, and set in the oven to keep hot -before the birds are put over the fire. - -=Chicken Pudding.=--Joint a pair of small, tender chickens; season -with salt and pepper; just cover with water, and stew with three thin -slices of salt pork, that has been well washed in hot water. When -tender, take from the liquor and set to cool. Make a batter of one -quart of flour, one quart of milk, six eggs, and a teaspoonful of salt; -or, if _prepared_ flour, no salt is needed. When the meat is cold, -cover the bottom of a large bake-dish with batter, then a layer of -chicken, then another of batter, and so on till all is used, finishing -off with batter. Bake to a light brown. Beat an egg and stir into the -liquor that was set aside, and serve it hot with the pudding. - -=Chicken Jelly.=--Cut up an old hen into quite small pieces; skin it, -and pour over three pints of cold water; boil until the bones slip from -the meat easily. Then take out all the meat; throw back the bones to -boil in the liquor longer; chop the meat with the rind of one lemon, -having squeezed the juice into the boiling liquor; put the meat, well -seasoned, into a jelly-mold, and when the liquor is boiled down full -one half strain it upon the meat in the mold; next morning turn it out -of the mold and cut in slices. Do not throw away the _feet_ of poultry, -but pour boiling water over them to take off the skin, and then put -the feet into the liquor to boil. There is a great deal of mucilage in -their feet, and it is excellent both for this jelly and for enriching -the gravy for poultry. - -=Chicken Patties.=--Chop very fine all the dry, poorest bits left from -baked chicken; season carefully with pepper, salt, and a little celery, -cut in small bits; make a light puff paste, roll a quarter of an inch -thick, cut with a neatly shaped paste-cutter; lay a narrow strip of the -paste all round, then put some of the mince on the paste; cut another -piece of the same size and lay over. Bake fifteen minutes. This makes a -neat dish and is good. - -=To make Remnants of Meat, Chicken, etc., palatable.=--When a boiled -ham is nearly used up, there is considerable lean meat about the small -part of the ham which may waste because no way can be contrived to use -it. If you will grate all the hard dried bits, or, if too small to -grate, pound them in a marble mortar to a paste, and pack it close in a -stone pot, you will find it excellent for seasoning hashes, patties, or -to sprinkle over dropped eggs laid on buttered toast. - -=Meat Croquettes.=--Mince cold chicken very fine; moisten with rich -gravy; season with pepper and salt. Shape them by pressing tightly into -a jelly-glass or long, pear-shaped wineglass; brush over with beaten -egg after they are shaped, roll in bread crumbs, and fry in lard. -Drain, and send to table hot. Or, beat together one pint of cream and -one pint of minced chicken, three even table-spoonfuls of butter, with -salt and pepper. Fry in lard. - - -PORK AND HAM. - -=To Boil a Ham.=--Boil it three or four hours, according to the size; -then take up, skin the ham ready for the table, stick over it a dozen -cloves, rub over half a small cupful of sugar, sprinkle thoroughly with -pounded rusk or cracker crumbs, and set into a well-heated oven for -half an hour. - -=Broiled Ham.=--Cut _thin_ slices from the middle of the ham, as -true and uniform as possible, having the knife very sharp. But if by -carelessness some parts are thicker than others, roll the thick part -out, stoutly, with a rolling-pin. Soak an hour or two in warm water, -unless the ham is quite fresh. Have the gridiron perfectly free from -roughness, and well heated; then broil over a brisk fire, turning -constantly that no part may be black. If cut thin enough, it will take -but a few minutes to broil it. When done, butter and pepper to suit the -taste. For breakfast, an omelet, or eggs cooked in some acceptable way, -should always go with ham. - -=Ham Croquettes.=--Bits of boiled ham, too much broken to slice neatly -for the table, may be made into a very desirable breakfast dish. - -To two cups finely chopped boiled ham, put two table-spoonfuls of -flour, six eggs if plenty,--four will answer,--yelks and whites beaten -separately. Stir all together, and make into balls, or shape in a -wineglass. When in shape, roll them in bread crumbs, cracker dust, or -flour; dip them into a little beaten egg, and fry in butter to a clear -golden brown. - -=Ham and Toast.=--Boil a pint of milk, wet a table-spoonful of flour -with cold milk, and stir up smooth. When the milk comes to a boil, -pour in the flour, stir carefully till it thickens smoothly, add a -table-spoonful of butter and a little black pepper. Shave some good -ham very thin, pour over it boiling water, and let it scald a minute, -pour it off, add a little more, let it boil up once, then put it into -the thickened milk, leaving it there while you toast carefully a few -evenly cut slices of bread. Lay them into a deep dish, skim out the ham -from the milk and lay neatly on the toast, and then pour over all the -thickened milk. You can beat an egg and put to the milk if you like. It -makes it richer, but is not necessary. - -This is a very nice breakfast relish. We think it preferable to dried -beef. - -=Ham Toast.=--Soften slightly in a stewpan a small piece of butter; put -in as much finely minced ham as will cover a large round of buttered -toast, and add gravy enough to make it moist. When quite hot stir in -quickly with a fork one egg. Place the mixture over the toast, which -cut in pieces of any shape you may fancy. - -=To use Cold Boiled Ham.=--When a ham has been long boiled and is -becoming dry, cut some thin slices, dip in egg and bread crumbs, and -fry quickly. Serve immediately. - -=Another Way.=--Cut off all fat; mince the ham very fine; break into a -spider a half-dozen fresh eggs; add a table-spoonful of cream, a little -salt and pepper, and set over the fire; as soon as the eggs are set or -nearly solid, spread one half thickly with the minced ham, and fold -the other half over upon it; slip it carefully from the spider to the -platter. Garnish with curled parsley. Serve hot. - -=Ham Ball.=--Chop fine such small pieces of boiled ham as are usually -thought too poor or small for use; add as many eggs as there will be -people at the table; sprinkle in a little flour; beat together with -chopped ham, and make into balls. Fry in hot butter or well-clarified -drippings to a golden brown. - -=How a Pig was roasted on a Sugar Plantation.=--The pig, having been -carefully cleaned and dressed, was wiped dry, part of the liver and -heart chopped fine, mixed with bread crumbs, savory herbs, salt, and -pepper, and sewed up. While this was being prepared a fire was built -outdoors, and when burned down so as to secure a bright, large bed of -coals, a long, smooth stick was run through the pig lengthwise, and -smaller ones skewered the legs to the body. A piece of nice fat pork -was fastened on the stick where it entered the head. Thus firmly fixed, -one of the servants held the long stick with the pig on it over the -fire, slowly turning it round and round as it began to cook; or, if he -was needed elsewhere, one end of the stick was driven into the ground, -close to the coals, but only for a few minutes, when he returned to -continue to turn it round over the huge bed of coals. In much less time -than we need to cook a pig in our convenient kitchens, the dweller -under the cocoa-nut trees was beautifully browned, crisp, and tender. -In cooking, much of the fat from the pork filtered through, and having -given juice and relish to the meat, had, with a good deal of fat from -the pig, fallen into the ashes around the bed of coals, leaving the -meat rich and of peculiar sweetness and delicacy, without being too -greasy. - -We had not the good fortune to partake of it, but this, with others -cooked in a similar manner, was pronounced the most delicious meat -ever tasted, and we found no difficulty in believing it. Some of our -Northern cooks, with any amount of “modern improvements,” might try -this experiment with great success. - -Wild game, birds, rabbits, ducks, etc., are often cooked in a -similar manner. All wild birds are apt to be very dry, and if a thin -piece of pork is tied about them, while baking or roasting, till it -becomes brown and crisp, then removed, and the bird allowed to brown -delicately, it is a wonderful addition to the juiciness and flavor of -the game. - -=Good Sausage Meat.=--Take two thirds ham and one third fat pork, -season well with nine teaspoonfuls of pepper, the same of salt, three -of powdered sage, and one of thyme or summer savory to every five -pounds of meat (not heaping teaspoonfuls, remember); warm the meat -enough so that you can mix it well with the hands; then pack in jars. -When needed, make up in small cakes and fry in a little butter, or -simply alone. But they must not be covered over, or they will fall to -pieces. Some like a little cinnamon added. Keep where it is cool, but -not damp. - -=A Dutch Dish.=--Pare and slice as many potatoes as are needed for the -size of your family; put them into a deep dish; pour in as much milk or -cream as will fill the dish and not boil over. Stir in a little salt -and pepper; lay some slices of salt pork cut thin over the top; and -bake two hours. Be careful and not put in too much salt, as the pork -will season it almost enough. - - -SALADS AND OMELETS. - -=Chicken Salad.=--Well-fattened chickens, of medium size, tender and -delicate, make better salad than large, overgrown ones. Put them on to -cook in the morning, and save the water they are boiled in for soup. -When cold, remove the skin and cut the flesh in pieces, the size you -prefer. Some like the meat very coarse, others choose it quite fine. -This is entirely a matter of taste. When cut up, throw over the dish -a towel slightly damped in cold water, to keep the meat from drying. -Take the best celery you can get, and cut it of the size you wish. The -“fancy cooks” cut both celery and chicken in bits about one inch long -and half an inch thick, but we think the salad better cut finer. When -the celery is cut, put it between clean cloths to dry perfectly, and -then prepare the dressing. For dressing for two chickens, take three -fourths of a bottle of the purest salad-oil or thick sweet cream, two -scant table-spoonfuls of the best mustard, the yelks of two raw eggs -and of twelve hard-boiled ones. Put the eggs to be boiled in a saucepan -of cold water over a quick fire; bring to a boil, and let them boil -hard ten minutes, then drop them into cold water. When cool, remove the -shells. Break the raw eggs, and drop the yelks into a dish large enough -to make all the dressing in; beat them, stirring the same way, for ten -minutes; then slowly add the mustard, mix it with the eggs thoroughly, -then add a teaspoonful of the best vinegar, and, when this is well -mixed, add the oil, a drop at a time, stirring constantly and always -the same way. Then rub the yelks of the hard-boiled eggs very smooth, -and stir in as lightly as possible a teacup of vinegar; pour it slowly -into the first mixture, stirring with a silver fork. Now season the -chicken and celery with salt and pepper, and as soon as ready for use -pour on the dressing. If set where it is too cold in cold weather, the -dressing will curdle and be ruined. - -=Italian Chicken Salad.=--Make a dressing in the proportion of the -yelks of three hard-boiled eggs, rubbed fine, one salt-spoonful of -salt, one of mustard, and one of cayenne pepper, one of white sugar, -four table-spoonfuls of salad-oil, and two table-spoonfuls of vinegar. -Simmer this dressing over the fire, but don’t let it boil. Stir -constantly while over the fire. Then take a sufficient quantity of the -white meat of cold chicken for this quantity of dressing, or increase -in this proportion to the desired quantity; pull the white meat into -small flakes, pile it up in a dish, and pour the dressing on it. Take -two heads of fine, fresh lettuce that have been washed and laid in -water, take out the best part, cut it up, and arrange in a heap around -the chicken, heaped in the middle of the dish, and on the top of this -ridge place the whites of eggs, cut in rings and laid in form of a -chain. A portion of the lettuce to be helped with each plate of chicken. - -=Lobster Salad.=--Boil the lobsters half an hour; when cold, take from -the shell; remove the vein in the back, which is not good. Two heads of -lettuce, one cup of melted butter, two table-spoonfuls of mustard mixed -with a little vinegar, is sufficient for six pounds of lobster; after -being taken from the shell, salt and pepper to your taste, remembering -that more can be added if not enough; but if too much, it is not so -easily rectified. Chop them together and put in the salad-dish. Beat -six eggs with a teacup of vinegar, put it over the stove to thicken, -stirring it all the time; when cold, spread over the lobster. - -=Potato Salad.=--Cut ten or twelve cold boiled potatoes into slices -from a quarter to half an inch thick; put into a salad-bowl with four -table-spoonfuls of tarragon or plain vinegar, six table-spoonfuls of -best salad-oil, one teaspoonful of minced parsley, and pepper and salt -to taste; stir well that all be thoroughly mixed. It should be made -two or three hours before needed on the table. Anchovies, olives, or -any pickles may be added to this salad, as also slices of cold beef, -chicken, or turkey, if desired. - -=Plain Omelet.=--Put your omelet-pan on the stove with a spoonful of -butter; keep it so hot that the butter will almost brown in it, but not -quite; break six fresh eggs into a clean bowl; if fresh, the whites -will be clear and the yelks quite round; add a teaspoonful of milk for -every egg, and whip the whole as thoroughly as for sponge-cake. When -light, put the whipped eggs and milk into the omelet-pan and set it -directly over the fire. As it begins to cool, take a thin-bladed knife -and run it carefully under the bottom of the egg, so as to let that -which is not cooked run beneath. If the fire is right, the whole mass -will instantly puff and swell and cook in a minute, but great care is -needed that it does not burn on the bottom, as scorched egg is very -disagreeable and would ruin the whole. It is not necessary to wait till -the whole mass is solid, for its own heat will cook it after it has -been taken up, but begin to clear it at one side at once and carefully. - -=Puff Omelet.=--Take the yelks of six eggs and the whites of three; -beat very light. Take a teacup of cream (milk will answer) and mix with -it very smoothly one table-spoonful of flour; salt and pepper to suit -your taste; pour this into the beaten eggs. Melt a great spoonful of -butter in a pan, and when hot pour in the mixture and set the pan into -a hot oven. When it thickens up, pour over it the other three whites -that were saved out, which you must have all ready, beaten very light. -Return to the oven just long enough for a delicate brown, then slip out -on a dish so that the top part shall remain uppermost. - -=Oyster Omelet.=--Beat four eggs very light; cut out the hard part, or -eye, from a dozen oysters; wipe them dry and cut into small pieces; -stir them into the beaten egg, and fry in hot butter. When the under -side is a light brown, sprinkle a very little salt and pepper over the -top, and fold one half of the omelet over the other. Never turn an -omelet; it makes it heavy and ruins it. - -=Omelet with Jelly.=--Beat separately the yelks and whites of four -fresh eggs; add to the yelks sufficient sugar to sweeten to your taste, -and an even dessert-spoonful of corn flour very smoothly beaten in -a table-spoonful of cream. Beat this with the yelks till perfectly -smooth, and stir in the well-beaten whites very gently, so as to break -the froth as little as possible; pour the whole into a frying-pan in -which some butter has been melted, but drain off the butter before -adding the eggs, etc. Put it over the fire,--two or three minutes will -cook the under side; hold the pan to the fire till the under side looks -firm, then spread raspberry or strawberry jam over one half; turn the -other over it, and serve immediately. - -=Baked Omelet.=--Boil half a pint of milk; beat six eggs thoroughly, -yelks and whites separately; put half a teaspoonful of salt and a piece -of butter half as large as an egg to the boiling milk; stir it into -the beaten eggs; pour all instantly into a deep dish and bake. If the -oven is hot, five minutes will bake it; not quite so hot an oven and a -little longer time will be better,--say ten minutes. It should be of a -delicate brown on top, and eaten right from the oven. - -=Omelette Soufflee.=--Beat the whites of four eggs to a stiff froth; -then add the yelks well beaten, with three table-spoonfuls of powdered -sugar and the rind and juice of one lemon. Beat all well together, and -bake in a moderately hot oven five minutes; serve immediately. - - -EGGS. - -=Boiled Eggs.=--Be sure and select fresh eggs for boiling, never more -than a week old. Have the water just boiling; if boiling fiercely when -the eggs are put in, it will crack the shell. Three minutes will boil -an egg soft; five minutes will be necessary if you like them hard, and -ten or twelve minutes if needed for salad; in the latter case they -should be thrown into cold water the instant they are taken from the -boiling water, else the white will be dark colored or clouded. When -perfectly new, an egg requires about half a minute longer boiling than -if four or five days old. - -=Fried Eggs.=--The fat left after frying ham, or that which is left in -the bake-pan after browning a ham, is better for frying eggs than lard -or butter. See that it is boiling hot, but not discolored, and drop the -eggs in one at a time. Let them cook half a minute, then dip up some of -the boiling fat from the pan, and pour over them. Continue to do this -till they are done, and it will not be necessary to turn them over, -which endangers breaking the yelk. Two and a half minutes should cook -them sufficiently. When dropping them in, hold the cup into which you -break each one close to the pan, and let the egg slip in as easily as -possible, so that it will not spread in a ragged surface over the pan. - -=Poached Eggs.=--While boiling a pint of milk, beat six eggs to a -froth. Just before the milk begins to boil, add half a table-spoonful -of butter and a teaspoonful of salt, and stir into it; then pour in the -eggs, stir without ceasing, but gently, till it thickens,--not more -than two minutes. Take it from the stove or range, and continue to stir -half a minute or so, and then pour it over two or three thin slices of -toasted bread which has been spread with butter, and all prepared in a -deep dish before the eggs are put into the milk. This is very nice for -breakfast. - -=Hard Scrabbled.=--Put two teaspoonfuls of butter into a frying-pan; -beat six eggs; season with pepper and salt. When the butter is very -hot, but not scorched, put in the eggs; stir until it thickens, and -serve hot. - -=Fricasseed Eggs, or Egg Baskets.=--Boil hard half a dozen eggs or -more, according to the size of your family. When done, throw into cold -water immediately. (This should always be done with hard-boiled eggs, -else the yelk will turn black.) Cut the eggs in half after taking from -the cold water. Rub the yelks in a marble or wedgewood mortar, or with -a silver or wooden spoon, with some melted butter, pepper, and salt, -to a smooth paste; and, if you know it will be agreeable to all, add a -very little made mustard. Pound the finely minced meat of a cold fowl, -or grind some cold tongue or ham, and having made it smooth, mix with -the egg-paste, moistening as you proceed with a little gravy, or, if -you have none to spare, with melted butter. Cut a thin slice from the -bottom of the white of the egg, so that it will stand, and fill each of -the hard whites with this paste. Place close together on a flat dish, -and pour over the gravy left from the roast fowl yesterday, heated -boiling hot, into which a few spoonfuls of cream or rich milk have -been stirred. Cover closely with a hot cover, and let them stand a few -minutes before sending to table. If liked, a little parsley, chopped -fine, may be added, to the taste. - -Excellent for breakfast when eggs are plenty. - -=Egg Toast.=--Put some milk to boil in a farina-kettle; when it comes -to a full boil, take from over the fire and break in your eggs; let -them stand in the hot milk from eight to ten minutes, but not over the -fire. Steam a light biscuit, or, if you prefer, some Graham bread till -soft, or dip it into boiling milk and lay the egg on it, sprinkling -over a little salt and pepper. If desired, after the biscuit is -steamed or moistened in hot milk, you can spread a little butter over -it before the egg is put on it. This is a pretty breakfast dish, and -much more healthy than when the eggs are boiled, fried, or made into -an omelet, as the albumen (or white of the egg), being only slightly -cooked, is much more digestible. If careful not to scorch it, it is -better to boil in an iron kettle rather than the farina-kettle, as -iron will retain the heat longer than tin when taken from the fire. -Cooked in boiling water rather than milk, eggs are said to be even more -digestible, but they are not so palatable. - -=Scrambled Eggs.=--Put into a spider enough butter just to oil the -bottom; set it on the stove. Break the eggs into a dish, taking care -not to break the yelks. As soon as the spider is heated, slip in the -eggs, adding a piece of butter as large as a walnut for twelve eggs; -season with very little salt and pepper. When the eggs harden a little, -stir the eggs from the bottom of the spider until cooked to suit. The -yelks and whites should be separate, though stirred together; not -mixed, like beaten eggs. - -=Scrambled Eggs.=--Melt a table-spoonful of butter in a saucepan; -beat the yelks of six eggs a few minutes; then add to them six -table-spoonfuls of milk and a teaspoonful of salt, beat a little -longer, and pour them into the melted butter. When they thicken -slightly, pour in the whites unbeaten, and mix them with the yelks -carefully with a fork, and serve on pieces of toast in a hot dish, or -if preferred omit the bread. The whites should not be beaten in hard, -only stirred with the fork enough to mix in slightly with the rest. - -=Dropped Eggs.=--Have ready a saucepan of boiling water. Throw in -a little salt. Break fresh eggs into a cup, one by one, and gently -drop each into the water so as not to break the yelk or have the -white spread much. Dip the boiling water over the yelk with a large -spoon until the white sets; then with an egg-slice take each egg out -separately upon buttered toast. Dress the dish with sprigs of parsley; -sprinkle over a little salt if not seasoned sufficiently by the salted -water. It is safer to cook one egg at a time, keeping the dish covered -into which they are placed after being cooked, or where it will keep -hot. - -=Cottage Cheese.=--Take half sour milk, when well thickened, before -it has been stirred, and half buttermilk, at least twenty-four hours -old; set the dishes containing the milk and buttermilk separately -over kettles of hot water till the clear whey just begins to rise to -the top. Do not let it get too hot, or the cheese will be hard and -tasteless. When the whey has risen, pour both into a strainer-cloth -or bag; tie it at the top, and hang it up to drain. If prepared for -draining in the morning, by the middle of the afternoon it will be -sufficiently free from whey. Then turn it out of the strainer and -crumble all up fine; throw in a little salt and black pepper, rub in -a table-spoonful of butter, and moisten with milk till soft enough to -make into small pats or rolls for tea. If you have cream to wet it up -with, use no butter. If you like it quite soft, add more milk or cream, -and put the cheese into a deep dish, without attempting to make into -balls. - -=Cheese Toast.=--Without great care, there is danger of much waste -after a rich cheese is cut, and part sent to the table daily. If -servants are allowed to cut it, waste would seem inevitable; but if the -mistress looks after the cheese, there are many nice relishes to be -made from the crumbs and dried pieces. - -Take five table-spoonfuls of rich cheese, grated (the “crumbles” and -dry bits are as good as if cut for this purpose from the cheese), mix -with it the yelk of one egg, four ounces of grated bread, and two -table-spoonfuls of butter. Beat it all in a mortar,--a marble one if -you have it,--adding a dessert-spoonful of mustard and a little salt -and pepper. Toast some slices of bread, lay the paste upon them quite -thick; put it into the oven a few minutes and send to the table hot. - - -VEGETABLES. - -Much care in selecting vegetables is necessary, but still more in -preparing them for the table. It is to be regretted that so little -attention is given to this. Half the enjoyment that should be derived -from the abundance of the best varieties which our farms and markets -offer in every summer season is lost by unskillful cooking. So evident -is this fact, that it appears quite important to call the particular -attention of _young housekeepers_ to this part of their duty. We are -so much in earnest, and deem this part of their labors so worthy of -extra care, that no doubt those who think us quite too particular -and whimsical in our inculcations of extreme neatness in household -management will find the same grounds for objection here. We would -suggest that those who feel inclined to raise these objections should -overlook everything and every place about their houses, and attend -with their own hands to all that ought to be done _for one month_. We -imagine that, should they do this, their experience of the beauty of -great cleanliness, and the added luxury and pleasure of their table -comforts, would justify our teachings. - -Of course it is only those who raise vegetables themselves who can -enjoy in the highest degree the pleasure of eating them. No luxury -of this kind, peas, corn, beans, salads, etc., can ever be had in -perfection when gathered overnight and brought to the market or the -store, lying for hours it may be before they are used. But even after -such exposure and waste of the finer flavors, they can be made more -palatable by proper cooking. - -Almost all vegetables are better _steamed_ than boiled, as all the -juices are secured by this method; particularly is this true in -cooking corn and peas. A large kettle half filled with boiling water, -a _steamer_ fitting closely in the top of the kettle, and the cover -fitting as closely to the steamer, answers very well when there is no -better way. But there are now in market various kinds of steamers for -cooking, which profess to make it a very convenient mode of preparing -food. The “Peerless,” one of the best cooking-stoves we have ever -known, has a large steamer of the size and shape of a wash-boiler, with -two perforated compartments in which to put the various articles to be -cooked, and we have found it exceedingly convenient for steaming all -kinds of vegetables. We have elsewhere mentioned the “Rumford Boiler,” -the “Warren Cooker,” etc. A large amount of corn--for those who can -gather sweet corn right from the stalk are not likely to be satisfied -with a _small_ mess--can be placed in one part; peas in a dish, all -seasoned, set beside the corn; potatoes, beets, cauliflower, each in -separate dish, can find a place in this large steamer, and cooked -without losing any of their richness, yet, all being in one large -receptacle, less room is occupied on the stove than when each article -is put in a separate kettle. - -=Corn.=--Like peas and most summer produce, corn should be used as -soon as plucked. Husk, silk, and put into _boiling_ water as soon -as possible after it is brought from the garden. Let it boil twenty -minutes, or, if large kernels and cob, thirty. - -The small early corn that will not cook in fifteen or twenty minutes is -too old, or wholly worthless for cooking. As soon as the corn is done, -put it on the plates with a napkin under, and send it to the table hot. -If you prefer it cut from the cob, as soon as it is cooked cut it off, -and to three pints of corn put one spoonful of butter, with pepper and -salt to suit your taste; put in but a little at first and then taste -(always remember that in seasoning you can _add_ if needed, but cannot -easily _take away_), add a cup and a half of good cream, or if you must -use milk instead, put in half a spoonful more butter. Have boiling -water in the under part of your farina-kettle, and pour your corn into -the upper. Set over the fire till just ready to boil, then dish and -send to the table hot. - -=Another Way.=--With a thin, sharp knife, cut the corn from the cob -before cooking, being careful not to cut so closely as to take the -horny point that fastens the kernel to the cob. Put the corn into -the farina-kettle as above directed, with a little salt, pepper, two -cups cream, one spoonful butter, or two cups sweet milk and two great -spoonfuls of butter. Be sure and scrape all the milk from the cob when -you have cut off the kernels, or squeeze it out with your hand. It adds -more to the richness of the dish than you would at first imagine. Set -the kettle over the fire and let it boil fifteen minutes. It will take -less time to cook than when boiled on the cob. - -=Boiling Potatoes.=--To boil potatoes well requires more attention than -is usually given. They should be well washed, and left standing in -cold water an hour or two, to remove the black liquor with which they -are impregnated, and a brackish taste they would otherwise have. They -should not be pared before boiling; they lose much of the starch by -so doing, and are made insipid. Put them into a kettle of clear cold -water, with a little salt, cover closely and boil rapidly, using no -more water than will just cover them, as they produce a considerable -quantity of fluid themselves while boiling, and too much water will -make them heavy. As soon as _just_ done, instantly pour off the water, -set them back on the range, and leave the cover off the saucepan till -the steam has evaporated. They will then, if a good kind, be dry and -mealy. This is an Irish receipt, and a good one. - -=Another Way.=--Put them, with skins on, into a kettle of hot water; -let them come just to the boiling point, and pour in a cup of cold -water, and, as the Irish say, the boiling is “backed.” Repeat this till -the potato is tender. The object is to keep the water just on the verge -of boiling, but check it by a little cold water till the potato is done. - -=To Boil New Potatoes.=--When fresh dug take the small potatoes not -quite ripe, wash clean, then rub the skin off with the hand--never -use a knife--and put them into boiling water with a little salt; boil -quickly; when done, drain dry and lay into a dish, spreading a little -butter over them, or boil some new milk, put in a great spoonful of -butter, and thicken with a little flour wet smooth with milk. When the -potatoes are cooked and laid in the dish pour this _dip_ over them. -This is very nice. - -=Mashed Potatoes.=--Boil with skins on; when done, peel quickly, and -put, as you peel, into a saucepan over the stove, but not hot enough -to burn; mash free from lumps to a smooth paste; have ready, before -peeling the potatoes, a piece of butter half the size of an egg, -melted, and half a cup of sweet milk, with pepper and salt to taste; -when the potatoes are mashed smooth, pour in the milk and butter, and -work it quick and smooth, then dish; dress the top with a knife so as -to be round and smooth, rub on a little beaten egg, and brown in the -oven very delicately. Serve with fowls or roast meat. - -=Potato Croquettes.=--Boil potatoes with just enough water to cover; -when three quarters done pour off the water and let them steam to -finish cooking; then press them through a wire sieve; this done, put -them into a stewpan, adding one ounce butter to one quart potatoes, -and the well-beaten yelks of two eggs; mix together thoroughly; then -flour the paste-board, divide the potato paste into square parts and -roll them on the board to any shape,--balls, pears, corks, or what you -choose,--dip them in egg and bread crumbs, and fry in hot fat to a -light brown. - -=Saratoga Fried Potatoes.=--Wash the potatoes clean, slice with a -potato-slicer very thin, throw into cold water long enough to take out -some of the starch, then wipe dry and put into boiling lard, a few -pieces at a time; be sure and keep the lard boiling; as soon as the -potatoes are of a clear golden brown, skim out, drain in a colander or -sieve, and serve hot. - -=Scalloped Potatoes.=--Boil in the skins. Peel quickly, when done, -and rub through a colander or coarse sieve, or mash smoothly; season -highly with salt, pepper, and butter; add two or three hard-boiled eggs -chopped fine. Four eggs to a quart of mashed potatoes are nice; but if -eggs are not plenty, two will do. Fill a bake-dish with it, and bake -long enough to form a delicately brown crust. Serve as soon as taken -from the oven. - -=Snow Potatoes.=--Boil till just done; peel and throw into a colander -or coarse sieve; break them up a little; then sprinkle in a little -salt; add as much butter as for common mashed potatoes, and enough milk -to enable you to rub them easily through the colander. They will, if -not too moist, come through in strings and fall in a light snowy mass -into the vegetable-dish, which should be placed underneath. Do not stir -it, but send to the table just as it falls into the dish. - -=Potato Cakes.=--Grate one teacup of raw ham, mix it with a quart of -finely mashed potatoes; beat and stir into this two eggs, add pepper, -salt (not too much), and a little mustard,--a small teaspoonful is not -too much if you like it highly seasoned,--roll in balls and fry a light -brown. Sage and sweet-marjoram can be added if their taste is agreeable. - -=To Fry Sweet Potatoes.=--Pare, slice thin, fry in hot lard, like -fritters, and sprinkle with a little salt as they are taken from the -lard. - -=Maccaroni.=--Boil a quarter of a pound of maccaroni in clear water -till tender. While boiling, thicken half a pint of boiling milk -with enough flour to make it as stiff as thick cream; add half a -table-spoonful of butter and two table-spoonfuls of cream, half a small -teaspoonful of mustard, a little pepper (white if you have it, if not -black will answer), a little salt, and a very little cayenne pepper. -Stir into this a quarter of a pound of grated cheese. Boil this all -together a few moments, stirring it constantly to prevent its burning, -then drain the water from the maccaroni, and stir it into the thickened -milk; let it boil up a few moments, and serve hot; or, if preferred, -after dishing it, set the dish in the oven and let it brown. For -variety, a little parsley chopped fine and stirred in before adding the -maccaroni is considered an improvement. - -Another very good way to prepare maccaroni is, boil it fifteen or -twenty minutes in clear water, then drain it, and use chicken or veal -broth instead of milk for the seasoning. - -Another: Prepare as above or with milk, and just before it is done beat -up two eggs and stir in. - -=Egg-Plant.=--Take the fruit fully ripe; cut in slices not more than -a quarter of an inch thick, and put it to soak in cold salted water -for two hours. This removes a black, bitter property, said to be -unhealthful, certainly disagreeable; then wipe the slices on a clean -cloth, dip in the white of egg and fry in boiling hot butter till well -browned, but be careful not to scorch them; serve hot. - -=Another Way.=--Pare and quarter two or three egg-plants, according -to the size of your family. Soak them in salt and water, as directed -above, then boil till soft enough to mash like turnips. Mash them -smooth, add a few bread crumbs soaked in milk, and one or two -table-spoonfuls of butter, according to the quantity; a little chopped -parsley, an onion boiled and mashed, and salt and pepper. Mix all -thoroughly; pour into a baking-dish, cover the top with grated bread, -and bake for a half-hour. Serve hot. For a fancy dish some boil the -plant till soft, then cut in halves and scoop out the flesh, leaving -the skin whole. Mash the inside smooth, and dress as above. Mix well, -and stew half an hour, then put it back into the shell or skin; strew -bread crumbs over, and brown slightly. - -Cucumbers after they begin to turn yellow, and muskmelons that come on -too late to ripen, may be sliced and fried like the egg-plant, and can -scarcely be distinguished from it. Some think they are better. - -=Fricasseed Egg-plant.=--Peel and slice the egg-plant; lay the slices -in salt-water two hours, to remove the bitterness and the black which -it would otherwise have; after soaking, drain off all the water; have -enough boiling water in a clean, bright saucepan to cover the slices; -throw in a table-spoonful of salt, and lay in the egg-plant; let -them boil till thoroughly cooked; then drain off the water, pour in -sufficient milk to cover the slices, and add two table-spoonfuls of -butter, rolled in flour; let it simmer gently, shake the pan over the -fire till the sauce is thick, and then stir in the beaten yelks of -three eggs just before serving. - -=To Stew Tomatoes.=--Pour boiling water over fair and fully ripe -tomatoes, that you may peel them quickly; let the water remain only -long enough to start the skin. When peeled, cut into an earthen pipkin -or a porcelain-lined kettle, as tin or iron turns them dark and gives -a bad taste. If onions are agreeable, cut one small one in with the -tomatoes. Cover closely and set where they will gently simmer, but -not boil hard. Stir them occasionally to prevent burning, and when -they have cooked two hours add salt and pepper to suit your own taste, -and to a quart of tomatoes add a table-spoonful and a half of sugar, -and two and a half even spoonfuls of bread or cracker crumbs. After -the crumbs are added stir often or they will stick to the bottom of -the dish and soon burn. Twenty minutes before dinner beat two eggs, -or if you have more than a quart of tomatoes increase the number in -the proportion of two eggs to a quart; stir briskly and often after -the eggs are added, and serve hot. If possible the tomatoes should be -skinned and on the back part of the stove before breakfast, as the -longer they simmer the better they will be. Three hours’ slow cooking -at least, _five is better_. If prepared according to rule, they are -thought very nice by tomato-lovers, and are better warmed over the -second day than they were the first. - -=Baked Tomatoes.=--Peel and slice good, firm, but ripe tomatoes; put -them in a pudding-dish, season with pepper, salt, two great spoonfuls -of sugar to a quart of tomatoes, and one spoonful of butter. Sprinkle -some finely powdered bread crumbs over the top and bake slowly two -hours. - -To add two well-beaten eggs is thought by some to improve this dish. - -=Scalloped Tomatoes.=--Peel as many large, ripe tomatoes as you wish -to prepare; cut them in slices a quarter of an inch thick; pack in a -pudding-dish first a layer of tomatoes, then a thick layer of bread -crumbs, pepper, salt, a little white sugar, and a teaspoonful of -butter; then a layer of tomatoes, then bread crumbs, etc., till the -dish is nearly full, having tomatoes last. Now dust over pepper, a -little sugar, and more butter; strew the top with bread crumbs, and -bake, _covered_, half an hour; then remove the cover, and bake brown, -but be careful not to scorch. - -We have received from a South Carolina lady the two following -receipts:-- - -=Boiled Rice.=--One pint of rice, as new as it can be had,--old rice -has a dead taste,--to one quart of boiling water and one table-spoonful -of salt. Boil briskly a few minutes, until the water seems absorbed; -then, keeping it closely covered, set on one side of the stove, where -it can be kept hot and steam itself done,--not become soft and mushy. -In about half an hour it will be cooked sufficiently. Serve very hot -with the meats, like potatoes. If cooked soft and watery, and stirred -till gluey--as is so often done--it would not be thought eatable at the -South. _Never_ stir more than once, and then only when it first boils. -Some prefer only one pint of water to one pint of rice. - -=Cooking Rice.=--Pick over and wash a cup of rice; cover with cold -water, and set where it will cook slowly. When the rice has absorbed -all the water, pour in a cup of milk; stir often and cook slowly; in -ten or fifteen minutes it will take up all the milk; then add another -cup, and so on, till the rice is soft, then add a little salt, and -dish. Eat with meat, or as dessert; if the latter, sweeten rich sweet -cream and grate in nutmeg, and use as sauce to the pudding. - -=Peas.=--To prepare any article of food in the _best_ way should not be -thought “too much trouble.” Many kinds of early peas are dry, almost -tasteless, and if what sweetness there may be in the pod is not added -to the peas to remedy this deficiency, they will be very insipid. - -“Carter’s Full Crop” and the “Daniel O’Rourke” are among our earliest, -but neither is a very sweet pea. To use these with any enjoyment, -_securing_ all the saccharine properties of the pod, is very essential. -They are of the smooth, round kind, and these are never as sweet as the -_wrinkled_ peas,--that is, those that wrinkle in boiling or drying. - -“The Little Gem” and the “Champion of England” are later, but among -our best and sweetest peas. They do not need the juices of the pod so -much in cooking, but we think are enough sweeter and richer for it to -pay for the trouble. Some cooks throw in a little sugar to increase the -flavor, as they use _soda_ to make them tender; but don’t do it unless -your taste is so deficient that you can be satisfied with simple -sweetness and tenderness, without regard to rich, genuine flavor. For -such, any tasteless thing, so that it is sweet and tender, is as good -as peas. - -=Green Peas.=--The first rule is to use the peas fresh from the -vines, every hour’s delay in cooking after they are gathered destroys -something of their finest flavor. Wash them _before_ shelling, _never -after_. Shell and pick over nicely. First put in the _fresh pods_. -Press them down, leaving only water enough to cover them. Let them boil -fifteen minutes, then skim out, and put in the peas. If there is more -than enough water to cover the peas after the pods have been removed, -pour it out. Let them boil fifteen or twenty minutes. Peas that require -more than twenty minutes, or need soda to make them tender, are only -fit for soup. When done, put what butter is needed into the dish, and -pour the peas on it, adding a little pepper. Some prefer them dry, and -drain them through a strainer, but we think some of the water in which -they were boiled is a very great improvement. The amount of butter -needed must be decided by the quantity of peas and the taste. Boiling -the pods adds greatly to the sweetness and richness of the peas. - -=Beans.=--The dwarf wax beans are among the best string-beans. The pod -is very tender and white, almost transparent when cooked. The Valentine -is also very good. Of the pole-beans the Horticultural and Lima are -the best. If you cannot raise the Lima, the Saba is a good substitute, -though by no means equal to it. - -In cooking the wax bean, simply cut off the ends, and snap the pod in -small bits. Put salt into boiling water and then put in the beans. If -the salt is thrown in before the vegetables, they retain their color; -but if salt is added _after_ they are in hot water, they will be of a -faded olive color when cooked, and not so well flavored. String-beans -should cook a full hour unless very tender. When done put in your -vegetable-dish some butter, allowing an even great spoonful to a pint -of string-beans; add a little pepper and pour the beans upon it, with -some of the water in which they were boiled. Like peas, some prefer -them quite moist; those who do not can easily be suited by having -theirs taken out free from the liquor. Lima beans are not good to -use for _string-beans_, but the bean itself is delicious. It requires -a full hour to boil. When ready to dish, season the same as peas or -string-beans. Many consider cream an addition both for peas and beans, -but we think much of the peculiar delicacy is lost by it. The more -simple such articles can be prepared the more of the true flavor is -retained. - -=Asparagus.=--Wash it clean, but do not leave in water. Cut off all of -the white ends that are woody and tough, and when ready to boil tie up -the stalks in a neat bunch, lay them in the saucepan, sprinkle over as -much salt as is needed to season, then just cover the bunch or bunches -with boiling water. Cook twenty minutes. When done, take the asparagus -out and with a sharp knife cut off any part that has not cooked tender -and throw away. Then cut the stalks up into pieces half an inch long -and put them back into the saucepan with two table-spoonfuls of butter -to each good-sized bunch; a little pepper, one cup of good cream, and -enough finely rolled bread crumbs to thicken it a little, say only -two even table-spoonfuls. If there is enough water left after boiling -to make the dish too liquid, pour off part of it before returning the -asparagus, cream, and bread crumbs to the saucepan. Let it all boil up -for two or three minutes, then dish and send to the table hot. - -=Spinach.=--Pick and wash it with great care. Put into a saucepan that -will just hold it; sprinkle in some salt, and pour over only one cup -and a half of boiling water; cover close, set on the stove, and shake -the pan often to prevent the spinach from burning. When done, beat it -up with a little butter and pepper. It should come to the table quite -dry. It looks nicely when pressed into a mold in the form of a leaf. -Serve with poached eggs. - -=To Boil Cabbage.=--Wash very thoroughly in cold water; look between -the leaves, where insects and worms are very often secreted; then put -into boiling water, some say without any salt; we prefer to add salt, -when half done; boil quickly till tender; then take it out with a -skimmer into a colander or sieve, and drain free from all water. Season -with a little butter and pepper. - -=To Boil Cabbage with Meat.=--Select small, white, firm heads; cut in -quarters; examine carefully; then lay the quarters an hour in cold -salted water, to drive out any insects that may have escaped your -observation. Skim all the fat from the pot in which the pork or beef -is boiling, and put in the cabbage while the water boils; cook till -tender; then drain, and serve as whole and compact as possible. If the -meat is to be used cold, take out some of the water in which it is -boiling, and put in another kettle and boil the cabbage in that, as it -gives a disagreeable taste to meat when cold. - -=Another Way.=--After washing and examining the cabbage, put it into -a kettle of fast-boiling water, into which you have put some salt and -a small bit of soda. Press it down into the water, then let it boil -quickly eight minutes; have on hand another kettle of fast-boiling -water prepared as above, and transfer the cabbage to that; press it -down into the water and let it boil twelve minutes more; meanwhile -throw away the first water and prepare more like it; after the second -boiling remove the cabbage once more to another water, and boil ten -minutes if the cabbage is small, twenty if large; then take it up in a -colander, lay a plate over, and drain well; dish on toasted bread that -has been dipped in drawn butter, and pour a little over the cabbage. - -=Cabbage like Cauliflower.=--Chop a good, solid head of cabbage fine, -as if for cold slaw. Put it into boiling water. Boil till tender; then -drain quite free from water; season with salt, pepper, and butter; add -a cup of cream or milk, and simmer a few minutes. Send to table hot. - -=Cauliflower.=--Soak the head two hours in salt and water, and boil -until tender in milk and water, if you have plenty of milk, if not, -boiling water will answer. Serve whole with drawn butter, or cut it up -and season richly with butter, and a little pepper and salt. The first -way is the most stylish, the last the most palatable. In either case it -must be well drained. - -=Hot-Slaw.=--Cut a firm white head of cabbage in thin shreds; put it -into boiling water; cook till tender; only just cover with water, so -that when done there may be hardly any remaining. Just before dishing, -add to one good-sized head half a teacupful of good cider vinegar and -a piece of butter half the size of an egg, with salt and pepper to suit -your taste. - -=Cold Slaw.=--Shave a firm head of cabbage fine; put a teaspoonful -of salt, the same of sugar, and a little pepper into a small cup of -vinegar, and pour over the cabbage. - -=To Cook Onions.=--The strong, disagreeable taste and smell from onions -may be in a large degree removed by leaving them to soak in cold salt -and water an hour after the outside skin has been removed; then boil -them in milk and water till thoroughly tender; lay into a deep dish, -season with pepper and salt, and pour over them drawn butter. - - -CAKE. - - -GENERAL RULES. - -First examine the range or stove. See that the ashes are shaken out, -and sufficient coal added to keep the oven in working order till your -cake is put together and baked; for fuel should never be added while -bread or cake is baking. See if the dampers are all right, and ovens -at the proper heat,--a slow, even heat for rich cake, a quick heat for -plain cake. - -The range being in proper condition, next collect all the ingredients -to be used. Line the tins with buttered paper. - -Sift the flour, then weigh or measure it and the sugar, butter, fruit, -and milk. Baking-powder or cream of tartar should always be sifted -in with the flour, which should then be covered up, and set near the -fire to dry while you are getting other articles ready. If Jewell’s -_prepared_ flour is used, no salt, soda, or cream of tartar is needed -for anything; and those ingredients may be omitted in using the -following receipts. - -Dissolve soda in a little cold water. - -Put the eggs in cold water. They will beat easier and lighter. Beat -yelks and whites separately. - -Never mix sweet and sour milk. - -When fruit is to be used, it is always better to pick it over, slice or -stone, and, if need be, wash and dry it, the evening before, covering -it over closely, to keep from the heat and air. - -Everything being now in readiness, put the butter into a deep earthen -dish. Stir it with a wooden spoon till soft, then add sugar, and beat -until light and white, like thick cream. Next add the yelks of the -eggs well beaten, then a little of the flour, and very gradually the -milk, beating the batter steadily; then add spices, and the whites, -well beaten to a very stiff foam, with the remainder of the flour, -alternately. Now beat the batter till all is thoroughly combined, and -you will be sure of light, fine-grained cake. - -Fruit should be rolled in flour and added the last thing, or add it in -alternate layers with the batter, as you fill it into the pans. Use -some of the flour weighed out for the cake to dredge the fruit. - -So far it is well; but quite as much depends on baking, as in the -preparation of the cake, and if you have not the most trusty, reliable -servants, your watch and care is not ended. - -Unless a _raised cake_, it should be put into the oven as soon as you -have put it into the pans, opening the oven door, after the cake is in, -as seldom as consistent with proper oversight, as a draught of cold air -passing through the oven will tend to make the cake heavy. - -If the oven is too hot, cover the cake for a while with a piece of -brown paper. - -Whenever you buy a broom, break off a few of the splints; tie them up -and lay away safely to use in _trying_ cake. It is not pleasant to -think of using a splint from a broom that has been used in sweeping a -kitchen floor, or any other floor, however nicely kept. Try the cake -with one of these clean splints, or a small knitting-needle. If it -comes out quite free from any particle of batter, the cake is done. - -Cake keeps fresher to be allowed to remain in the pan in which it was -baked; but if necessary to remove it, place it on the top of a sieve -until quite cold, when it may be frosted if desirable, and put into a -large stone pot, or cake-safe, and covered with clean linen. - -Steam stale cake, and eat with a nice hot sauce, and you have a very -good pudding. - -=Loaf Cake.=--Two cups sugar; two of milk; two of flour; one of yeast; -make into a sponge overnight. In the morning, if this sponge is light, -beat together two cups sugar, one of butter, and four eggs; add these -to the sponge with enough more flour to make it quite stiff; add spice -and fruit to suit the taste; a cup and a half of stoned raisins, well -floured, and half a cup of citron cut thin and in small pieces. Raise -till light, and bake in an even oven. - -=Mrs. Breedley’s Fruit Cake.=--Five eggs; five cups of flour; two and a -half cups of sugar; one and a half cups butter, and two cups sour milk; -two cups raisins. Beat sugar and butter to a cream; add the egg-yelks -and whites, beaten separately; then three cups of the flour and the -milk; beat well and then add one gill wine, cloves and cinnamon to suit -your taste, and the remainder of the flour; and last, one teaspoonful -soda dissolved in a very little water. Bake as soon as put together. - -Spices, in all receipts, may be increased or diminished to suit the -taste. One nutmeg and a teaspoonful of other spices will be a medium -allowance; cloves are generally undesirable, except in fruit cake. - -=Rosie’s Raised Cake.=--Three cups bread dough, two cups sugar, one cup -butter, or half cup butter and half cup lard, two eggs, nutmeg to suit -the taste, one wineglass of wine, half a teaspoonful of soda, one pound -of raisins chopped or stoned; beat all thoroughly together, and let it -stand to rise till quite light. Always roll raisins in plenty of flour -before putting into the dough, to prevent their sinking. - -=Fruit Cake.=--Three cups sugar, half a pound butter, four cups flour, -three eggs well beaten, one cup of milk, two nutmegs, two pounds of -raisins stoned, one pound Zante currants, or half a pound of preserved -orange peel sliced very thin and cut fine, one teaspoonful soda. Bake -two hours and a half. - -=Farmer’s Fruit Cake.=--Three cupfuls of sour dried-apples soaked -overnight in warm water. In the morning drain off the water, chop not -too fine, leaving the apple about as large as raisins, then simmer in -two cupfuls of molasses two hours or until quite done, that is, until -the apple has absorbed all the molasses; one and a half cupfuls of -butter well beaten; one of sugar, four eggs, one cupful of sweet milk, -one teaspoonful of cloves, one of cinnamon, one of nutmeg, one and a -half teaspoonfuls of soda, one wineglass of wine, four and a half -teacupfuls of flour; add one cup raisins or currants, if you please, -but roll in flour before putting them to other ingredients; beat all -together thoroughly; bake carefully in a well-heated oven. This is -excellent to our taste, far better than the richer kind, and more -easily digested. - -=Whortleberry Cake.=--Prepare the batter just like Sally Lunn, then -stir in one coffee-cup of whortleberries rolled in flour the last thing -before putting into the oven. If the berries are not well floured, they -will sink to the bottom of the cake and be worthless. Stir them in -gently and quickly. Bake half an hour. Very good for breakfast or tea. - -=Olic Cake.=--Three pounds of flour, five eggs, three quarters of a -pound of butter, one and a half pints of milk, one pound of sugar, -and one penny’s worth of bakers’ yeast; beat and knead well and put -to rise; knead over every time it rises,--say three times a day for -three days,--using as little flour as possible at each kneading. After -the first rising, keep it in the cellar or a cool place. When ready -for use, break off small bits, flatten with the hand, and lay a bit of -citron on them; then roll into a ball and fry in boiling lard, like -doughnuts. Roll in sugar after they are fried. This is a Dutch receipt, -and, if properly made, very fine. We have never _fried_ these cakes, -but often make a large bowlful in cold weather, and keep it on the -ice a fortnight at a time, using as we want it, kneading it every day -an hour before tea, and using it for biscuits instead of cake. Let it -stand a short time to rise, then bake. _They are very light and tender._ - -=Nice little Cakes.=--Whites of six eggs left from Spanish cream, three -and a half cups of flour, two cups sugar, one small cup butter, one cup -milk, one teaspoonful soda, and two of cream of tartar. Flavor to taste. - -=Queen Charlotte’s Cake.=--One pound of flour, one of sugar, one of -raisins (Sultana or _stoneless_ raisins are the best), one half-pound -butter, four eggs, one gill brandy, one gill wine, one gill cream, half -a nutmeg, half-teaspoonful each cloves and cinnamon. Bake in one loaf. - -=Lemon Cake.=--Two cups of flour, two of sugar, six eggs, six -table-spoonfuls of butter, four of milk, two teaspoonfuls of cream -of tartar sifted with the flour, and one teaspoonful of soda. Beat -all well together, and bake in two loaves. For the jelly to use with -it, take three fourths of a pound of sugar, one fourth of a pound of -butter, six eggs, the rind of three lemons grated, and their juice. -Beat the sugar, butter, and eggs thoroughly together, and set in a dish -of hot water until heated, then add the grated lemon and juice; stir -till thick enough and quite smooth, then split the cake and put this -jelly in while warm. It is very delicious. - -=Molasses Drop Cake.=--One cup of molasses, half a cup of butter or -lard, half a cup of water, three cups of flour, two teaspoonfuls of -ginger, one teaspoonful of soda. Beat well together, and drop with a -spoon on a buttered pan or in muffin-rings. Bake quickly. - -=Chicago Fruit Cake.=--One and one fourth pound flour, six eggs, -one pound sugar, half-pint of milk, three fourths pound butter, one -pound raisins, two teaspoonfuls soda, half a gill molasses, three -teaspoonfuls mace, one teaspoonful cloves, one of cinnamon, one of -allspice, one of nutmeg. Beat the yelks and whites of eggs separately, -and beat the cake well before baking. - -=Cider Cake.=--Two pounds of flour, one pound of butter, one and a -quarter-pound of sugar, one pound of raisins (stoned), five eggs, -two teaspoonfuls of soda (only even full), a teaspoonful of cloves, -cinnamon, and half a nutmeg, and one pint of cider. Put in the soda the -last thing. - -=Snow-flake Cake.=--Half a cup of butter, two cups of sugar, four of -flour, one of sweet milk, three eggs well beaten, one table-spoonful -cream of tartar, half a teaspoonful of soda; or, if you use prepared -flour, use no soda or cream of tartar. Bake the cake in shallow -jelly-cake pans; while baking, grate two fresh cocoa-nuts carefully, -and spread over each cake, as it comes from the oven, a thin frosting, -and then sprinkle thickly with the grated nut. Three layers of cake -make one cake. This receipt will make two loaves. - -=Cocoa-nut Cake.=--One coffee-cup butter, two and a half sugar, four -and a half of flour, whites of nine eggs beaten stiff, half a cup of -milk, two cocoa-nuts grated, one small teaspoonful soda, two of cream -of tartar. Save out a saucer of grated cocoa-nut to sprinkle on the -frosting after the cake is baked. - -=Macaroons.=--One pound of sugar, whites of three eggs, one -quarter-pound blanched and pounded almonds. Sprinkle sugar on paper and -drop in little round cakes. - -=Delicate Cake.=--When making cocoa-nut custard (see Puddings, etc.), -use the whites of the eggs as follows: One cup white sugar, five -table-spoonfuls of butter, whites of six eggs, one teacup of sweet -milk, three cups of “prepared flour,” or to the same quantity of common -flour, add one small teaspoonful of soda, and two of cream of tartar -sifted in the flour. Flavor with orange, lemon, or vanilla. - -=Sponge Cake= (very good).--Three eggs, one cup of sugar, one of flour, -three table-spoonfuls of water, and one teaspoonful of yeast powder; -flavor with lemon and nutmeg. - -=Pineapple Cake.=--Make a cake as for jelly-cake; bake it in three -or four jelly-pans; grate a large ripe pineapple in one bowl and a -cocoa-nut in another. When the cakes are done, spread over one a -layer of pineapple, and over that a layer of cocoa-nut; then place -the second cake over this, and on that put another layer of pineapple -and cocoa-nut, and so on till the last; cover that with the pineapple -and grated cocoa-nut, and then beat the whites of two eggs to a stiff -meringue; lay it over the top, and place the cake in the oven just a -few minutes to stiffen. - -=Molasses Cup Cake= (very good).--One cup each, sugar, molasses, -and milk, three cups flour, half a cup butter, three eggs, one -table-spoonful ginger, one small even teaspoonful of soda, half a -teaspoonful of salt. Pour the milk to the flour, beat butter and sugar -to a cream and add to it the salt and ginger, then the well-beaten -yelks of the eggs; beat the soda into the molasses, and when it foams -pour in with the rest, adding the whites of the eggs, beaten stiff, the -last thing. - -=Loaf Cake.=--One and a half pints of well-raised sponge, two and a -half cups sugar, two thirds cup of butter, three eggs, yelks and whites -beaten separately, half a pound stoned raisins well rolled in flour to -prevent their sinking to the bottom, half-teaspoonful each cinnamon -and cloves, one nutmeg. Beat into the sponge a half-teaspoonful soda -before adding these ingredients, then stir all together thoroughly; let -it stand till quite light, then stir up from the bottom with a wooden -spoon to prevent raisins from settling, and bake slowly. If the sponge -is very thin, add a little more flour. - -=Walnut Cake.=--One pound of flour, one of sugar, three quarters of a -pound of butter, one and a half pounds raisins stoned, the meats from -two quarts of walnuts, one nutmeg, half a teaspoonful of cinnamon, half -a cup of milk, one wineglassful of cider or wine, six eggs, whites and -yelks beaten separately, half a teaspoonful of soda. Pick over the -walnut-meats to see that no bits of shells remain; pour boiling water -over to take off the skin, drain and rub dry, then mix with raisins, -flour well, and stir into the batter. Bake in a quick oven, but not -scorching hot. - -=Loaf Cake.=--Two cups of sugar, two of milk, two of flour, one of -yeast. Make into sponge overnight. In the morning rub together two cups -of sugar, one of butter, and four eggs. Flour to make quite stiff; one -nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves; if wished, one pound of fruit. Raise till -light, and bake in an even oven. - -=Western Cake.=--Four cups of flour, two and a half of sugar, one of -butter, one of new milk, and five eggs, one teaspoonful of soda. Spice -to taste. - -=Snowball Cake.=--One cup of sugar, half a cup of butter, half a cup -of sweet milk, two cups of flour, the whites of three eggs, half a -teaspoonful of soda, one spoonful of cream of tartar sifted with the -flour; beat butter and sugar thoroughly together; add the whites of -eggs beaten to a stiff foam; then the flour, and milk and soda the last. - -=Molasses Cake.=--Half a cup of molasses, half cup sugar, half cup sour -milk, piece of butter size of an egg, one egg, two cups flour, spices, -and a few chopped raisins. Spice with a little ginger, cloves, and -cinnamon. - -=Corn-Starch Cake.=--One cupful of butter, two of sugar; beat to -a white foam; add four eggs beaten quite stiff, one cupful of -corn-starch, one cupful of milk, two cupfuls of prepared flour, and -flavor with one teaspoonful of bitter almonds. If you have no prepared -flour, sift one teaspoonful of cream of tartar with the flour, and add -half a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a teaspoonful of milk, the last -thing; beat thoroughly after the soda is added, and bake immediately. - -=Moss Cake.=--Two cupfuls of sugar, half a cupful of butter, three -eggs, one cupful of milk, three cupfuls of flour, two teaspoonfuls of -cream of tartar sifted with the flour, and one teaspoonful of soda. - -=Jenny Lind Cake.=--Half cup butter, one teacup of milk, two -table-spoonfuls cream, two cups sugar, three eggs, one teaspoonful -cream tartar, half-teaspoonful soda, and four cups flour. Any spice -that is palatable. - -=Sugar Cookies.=--One cup butter, two cups sugar, three eggs, five -cups flour, two table-spoonfuls sour milk (or sweet milk, with two -teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar added), one small teaspoonful of soda; -spice to suit your taste. Bake quickly. - -=Cookies.=--Two cups of sugar, one of butter, one of sweet milk, one -teaspoonful soda, two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar, just flour -enough to roll; rub butter and sugar into the dry flour, as if for -pastry, and then wet up, using no eggs; spice to suit the taste; cream -of tartar to be sifted in with the flour, soda added the last. Be -careful not to use too much flour, more can easily be added if not -stiff enough. - -=Another Way.=--Three cups of flour, one cup of sugar a trifle heaped, -half cup of butter, one third cup half cream and half sweet milk, two -eggs, half-teaspoonful soda,--if you don’t use prepared flour; spice -with cinnamon. Work butter and sugar to a smooth white cream, then add -yelks of eggs, beat well, and then add milk and soda; whites beaten -stiff, added the last thing before the flour; make as thin as they can -be rolled, putting the hands to the dough as little as possible. Much -handling makes them hard and tough. - -=Molasses Gingerbread.=--Half a cupful of sugar, half a cupful -molasses, half a cupful of milk, half a cupful of butter, three cupfuls -of flour, two teaspoonfuls of ginger, and half a teaspoonful of soda. -Beat the sugar, butter, and ginger together; then add the milk, then -the flour; beat the soda into the molasses, and as soon as it foams, -beat it in with the other ingredients. Better beat all together with -the hand. Bake it either in a shallow pan or in little cups. This is -very nice, if a teaspoonful of cinnamon, half a teaspoonful of cloves, -and a teacupful of stoned raisins are added, and the whole baked in a -loaf. - -=Plain Gingerbread.=--One cupful of sugar, one of molasses, half a -cupful of butter, half a cupful of milk, one cupful of raisins or -currants, two teaspoonfuls of ginger, and one of yeast powder, with -flour enough to make it as stiff as cup cake. - -=Excellent Ginger-Snaps.=--Boil together one pint molasses, one cup -butter, one table-spoonful of ginger. Let them only boil up once, then -set aside to cool. When cold, roll two small teaspoonfuls of soda -perfectly smooth, and beat into the molasses; while foaming pour it -upon just as little flour as will make it possible to roll out very -thin. Bake quick. - -In measuring by spoonfuls, be careful that the spoon is _even_ full, -not _heaped_. Careless measurement spoils many good dishes. - - -PIES, PUDDINGS, AND DESSERTS. - -=Pastry.=--One quart flour, half-pound butter; mix half the flour -with ice-cold water, stiff enough to roll; put it on a well-floured -paste-board, sprinkle flour over and roll half an inch thick. Divide -the butter into three parts; shave one of the three portions quite thin -and put it lightly over the paste, shake one third of the dry flour -over it, fold the four ends inward, then double the sheet together and -beat it with the rolling-pin till it is about half an inch thick; shave -a second portion of the butter and put on the paste, flour, fold up -and beat out as at first. Repeat this process for the third and last -time, using up all the butter and flour, and put the paste on the ice -for a half-hour. Then cut off a piece large enough to cover a plate, -roll out,--always rolling from you,--and handle as little as possible; -cover the plate, trim it by passing the knife round the plate, cutting -_upwards_. (This should be borne in mind with all pastry. If cut round -the edge of the plate _upwards_, it will be light; if _downwards_, it -will cling to the plate and be heavy.) Cut a strip an inch wide and lay -round the edge, fill in the fruit or whatever the contents are to be, -and if it is to have an upper crust roll out, put it on and trim as -above directed. Prick the top to let out steam and prevent the waste of -the juice. - -=Puff Paste.=--Half a pound of butter, half a pound of lard, one and a -quarter pounds of flour; wet half the flour to a paste; mix the other -half with the shortening, chopping it fine, but do not use your hand; -stir together with a silver or wooden spoon. Roll the paste out on the -board about a quarter of an inch thick, and add one third of the mixed -flour and shortening; fold the four ends over it, and beat out with the -rolling-pin till again a quarter of an inch thick; spread over it one -third more of the shortening; fold over the ends; beat out thin again; -add the remainder of the shortening; beat, roll out, and use. - -=Potato Pastry for Meat Pies.=--Six good-sized potatoes, boiled and -mashed mealy and white, one teacup of sweet cream, a teaspoonful of -salt, and flour enough to make it stay together and roll out. Work and -handle as little as possible, and roll thicker than common pastry. - -=Pumpkin Pies.=--Cut the pumpkin into small pieces; take out the seeds -and inside, but do not pare it. It must be a well-grown and thoroughly -ripened pumpkin, and not watery. Put the pieces in a saucepan, with -only a few spoonfuls of water, not more than four; cover close and -let it cook gently, so as not to scorch, until the water has all -evaporated, and the pumpkin has cooked quite dry and of a rich, dark -orange color. While hot sift it through a coarse sieve. Season only as -much as you are needing for the day. For one large pie, one egg, one -table-spoonful of molasses, four table-spoonfuls of condensed milk, and -enough of new milk to make it as thin as you wish, or if you have it, -half milk and half cream, instead of condensed milk; sugar and spice -to suit the taste. Ginger and cinnamon are very nice. Bake to a clear, -rich brown, but do not blister or scorch. - -=Dried-Apple Pies.=--Wash the apples in several waters, then put them -into an earthen dish or stone pot, and pour on rather more water than -will cover them; for if the apples are good, they will absorb a good -deal of water and become twice as large by soaking. Never soak or cook -fruit in tin or iron. A few hours should soak the apples sufficiently -for cooking. If soaked overnight they become insipid. Put them into -an earthen pipkin or porcelain kettle and cook in the water they are -soaked in. If you like it, cut up a little dried orange or lemon peel -and stew with the apples. Some use dried plums with apples, but they -make it too sharp for our taste. Let them cook slowly, till very -tender. When they rise up in the kettle, _press_ them down gently, but -never _stir_ them. When perfectly tender, before taking from the fire, -stir in a little butter--about one table-spoonful to a quart of cooked -apples--and sugar to suit your taste. Season with very little nutmeg -and cinnamon, if you do not use the orange or lemon peel,--nothing -else is needed if you do. Bake with an upper and under crust, but -do not make the pie very thick with apples. Half an inch deep is -sufficient. - -Dried plums and peaches may be prepared in the same way, but require no -spice. - -=Pies of Canned Fruit.=--Canned pears, peaches, and quinces usually -will bear scalding in their own liquor before putting them in the -pie-plate. When tender, skim out and lay on a dish to cool. Then add to -the liquor enough sugar to make a syrup, more or less rich, according -to the taste of those who are to eat them. When both fruit and liquor -are cold, if the pears, peaches, or quinces are in halves, cut them in -slices a quarter of an inch thick, and lay into the pie-plate; pour -over as much of the syrup as it will hold, having first put on the -under crust and laid an edge of crust around it. Fill the plate not -quite an inch thick. This is more economical, and, to our taste, much -nicer than to use the fruit in large pieces. Cut a few small bits of -butter (half a table-spoonful in all) and lay the spice over; put on -the upper crust and bake a rich brown, but be careful not to scorch the -crust, as a little scorch spoils the best of pastry. - -Plums must not be scalded before baking, as they come to pieces very -easily, but prepare the liquor in which they are canned the same as for -pears, peaches, and quinces. - -=Mince Pie.=--Put a large-sized tongue into boiling water, with a -little salt and pepper. A fresh tongue is better than one smoked and -dried. Boil slowly till tender, then take out and dip for a minute in -cold water; then peel it, beginning at the tip, as it peels easier. -Cut off all the gristly parts and chop fine. Pare and chop enough of -the best flavored sour apples to fill a three-pint bowl when chopped. -The finer the meat and apples are chopped the better the pies will be. -Pick over and rub clean one pound Sultana, or stoneless raisins, one -pound Malaga, or bloom raisins, stoned and chopped, and one pound whole -raisins. Slice thin half a pound citron and half a pound candied orange -peel; chop and pick clean from skinny pieces three quarters of a pound -of suet; add a table-spoonful salt, five grated nutmegs, one and a half -table-spoonfuls ground cloves, the same of cinnamon, a pound of sugar, -half a pint maple syrup, one pint cider, one of Madeira wine, one of -brandy. Syrups from preserves, or small portions of jelly of any kind -left over, and not sufficient to be put on the table again, are a great -improvement to mince-meat for pies, beside finding an economical way of -use. Put all these ingredients into a porcelain kettle, and set over -the range to scald, not boil, one hour, stirring all the time; then -pack in a stone jar and cover closely, ready for use. - -=Rice Pie.=--Take cold rice, cooked with milk, add sufficient cream -to make quite thin, mash it with a wooden or silver spoon till -free from lumps. Beat up four eggs very light,--yelks and whites -separately,--sweeten the rice to suit your taste, and pour in the -egg,--the whites last; stir well, grate a little nutmeg over all; cover -a deep custard or pumpkin pie-plate with pastry, pour in the rice, and -bake, but not long enough to make the custard watery. - -=Apple Puffs.=--Peel and core as many sour apples as will be needed, -simmer with a little water till tender, then add a half-pound of sugar -to a pound of apples, let it simmer till the apples become a kind of -marmalade; take it up, and when cold put it into puff paste and bake -quickly; when done ice it, return to the oven just long enough to turn -the icing golden. - -=Marlborough Pie.=--One cup stewed apples, sifted; one cup sugar, -one cup cream or milk; one fourth cup butter if cream is used, if -milk, one third; half a gill wine, three well-beaten eggs, whites -whisked separately, and a little nutmeg; beat sugar, butter, and apple -together, then add the wine, then milk or cream, nutmeg and yelks, -adding the whites the last thing. No upper crust. - -=Chess Pie.=--Four eggs, two cups sugar, one of cream, two thirds of -a cup butter, one table-spoonful flour; flavor with nutmeg. When a -delicate brown, try with a spoon as for a custard. - -=English Christmas Plum Pudding.=--One pound of clean, dry currants, -half a pound of the best raisins, stoned; mix these with one pound of -bread crumbs, half a pound of fine flour, and one pound and a half of -finely shred suet; add a quarter of a pound of sifted sugar, one grated -nutmeg, a drachm of cinnamon, two drachms of cloves, half a dozen -almonds, pounded, and an ounce each of candied orange and lemon, sliced -thin; mix all these materials thoroughly together in a bowl, with a -glass of brandy and one of sherry, then beat six eggs very light, and -slowly stir them in till all is well blended; cover the bowl, and let -this mixture stand for twelve hours; then pour it into a pudding-bag, -and tie it not very tight, leaving room for it to swell; or fill a -pudding-mold not quite two thirds full, lay a clean cloth over the -top, and shut the cover over tightly to exclude all water; put the bag -or mold into boiling water; keep it covered, and keep it boiling all -the time, for six hours. Serve with sugar sifted over, and wine sauce. -Brandy is usually sent in with a Christmas pudding, to be poured over -the whole pudding, or over each slice, then lighted, and served while -burning. - -=A Family Christmas Pudding.=--Beat up four eggs very light (which -always means yelks and whites beaten separately); add to the yelks, -after beating, a quarter of a teaspoonful each of ginger, nutmeg, -grated lemon peel, and salt; four ounces of sugar, half a pound of -well-cleaned and dried currants, one pound of flour, half a pound of -well-shred and chopped suet; beat this all up thoroughly, adding the -whites of the eggs last. Wine or brandy, or both, may be added, if one -has no scruples about using them in cooking; but the pudding will be -good without this addition. Tie it in a cloth or pudding-bag, or put it -into a mold, and boil six hours. Serve with any good sauce. - -In boiling puddings of all kinds, the cloth should be dipped in hot -water before the batter is put in, or the mold be well buttered. Any -of these Christmas puddings may be kept for a month after boiling, -if the cloth in which they are boiled be replaced by a clean one, -and the pudding be hung up to the ceiling of a kitchen, or in a warm -store-room. When wanted, they will require one hour’s boiling to heat -them through, as all such puddings should be sent to the table hot. - -=A Simple Christmas Pudding.=--Six ounces of finely chopped suet, -six ounces of Malaga raisins, stoned and chopped; eight ounces of -well-cleaned and dried currants, three ounces of fine bread crumbs, -three ounces of flour, three well-beaten eggs, the sixth part of a -nutmeg, grated; half a teaspoonful each of cinnamon, cloves, and mace; -four ounces of sugar, half a teaspoonful of salt, half a pint of milk; -one ounce of candied orange or lemon peel, and the same of citron, all -sliced thin. Beat all together thoroughly; pour into a pudding-bag or -mold; put into boiling water, and keep it boiling six hours. Serve with -sauce to suit your taste. - -=Bread Pudding.=--One quart fine bread crumbs, one cup of sugar, -two table-spoonfuls of molasses, half-pound suet chopped fine, one -coffee-cup raisins, half a rind of preserved orange peel or citron cut -thin and fine, a very little nutmeg and cinnamon, two teaspoonfuls -cream of tartar, one small teaspoonful soda, one teaspoonful of salt. -Stir in milk enough to make it thick as pound-cake, beating all -thoroughly together; put it into a buttered pudding-mold, and boil -three hours. Be careful to keep the water boiling all the time. - -=Boiled Indian Pudding.=--Two cupfuls of sour milk, two spoonfuls of -molasses, one teaspoonful of soda, one of salt, half a cupful of sifted -flour, mixed with enough corn meal to make a batter not very stiff; -half a cupful of chopped suet, from which all the stringy substance -has been removed; a cup and a half of chopped sweet apples, or -huckleberries, dried or fresh, as you have on hand. Boil from two and a -half to three hours. - -=Baked Indian Pudding.=--Boil one quart of milk, and pour over a pint -of sifted Indian meal; stir it well till the meal is thoroughly wet -and scalded. Mix three table-spoonfuls of wheat flour with one pint of -milk, and beat to a smooth batter, entirely free from lumps; then pour -it in with the Indian batter, and beat well together. When the whole -is lukewarm, beat three eggs and three table-spoonfuls of sugar, and -mix with the batter, together with two table-spoonfuls of molasses; add -two teaspoonfuls of salt, two of nutmeg, cinnamon, or ginger, as you -prefer; two great spoonfuls of suet chopped fine, or the same of melted -butter; let it bake a few minutes, and then add half a pound of raisins -and half a pint of milk, which the raisins will soak up. Bake till the -pudding is of a rich color, but do not let it whey. - -=Palmyra, or Date Pudding.=--One pound of fresh dates, chopped fine -and free from stones; one pound of suet, chopped fine; a quarter of a -pound of moist sugar, and a pound of flour. Mix all well together; add -a little salt and nutmeg, and make into a soft dough with milk. Beat -three eggs very stiff, yelks and whites separately, and add the last -thing. Boil in a pudding-dish three hours, or bake slowly two hours. -Eat with liquid sauce. - -=Sponge-Cake Pudding.=--Make a batter as for good sponge-cake. Bake on -a flat, square pan, so as to be an inch thick, when done. When cold, -cut it into pieces about three inches square; slice and butter them, -and lay each slice together as it was before you split it. Make a -custard with four eggs and a quart of new milk, flavor and sweeten as -you like it. Almond in the cake, and lemon or vanilla in the custard, -are very good. Put the buttered slices of cake in a baking-dish, so -that when the custard is poured over them, the dish will be full. Bake -half an hour; eat with or without sauce as you prefer. - -=Steamed Pudding.=--Two eggs, two teacupfuls of sour milk, one -teaspoonful of soda, a little salt, flour enough to make it quite -thick, or it will be heavy. Beat this smooth. Add cherries, -raspberries, currants, or any _dried_ fruit you may have. Steam two -hours, taking care that the water is kept over the pudding or bag all -the time, and that it does not stop boiling. Eat with cream and sugar, -hard sauce, or any liquid sauce you may prefer. - -=An Excellent Pudding.=--One cup of sugar, one cup of milk, three -eggs, beaten stiff; one table-spoonful of butter, a little clove and -cinnamon, about half a teaspoonful of each; one cup of raisins, stoned; -half a teaspoonful of salt, and three cups of prepared flour. Bake -quick. Eat with liquid or hard sauce, according to taste. We think this -would also be excellent steamed or boiled. - -=Apple and Tapioca Pudding.=--Put a teacup of tapioca into a pint and -a half of cold water overnight. Before breakfast the next morning set -it where it will become quite warm, but not hot enough to cook. After -breakfast pare six good-sized sour apples, or eight if not very large; -quarter them and _steam_ them in a dish till tender. Lay them into the -pudding-dish, stir a cup and a half of sugar into the soaked tapioca, -add a teacup of water and an even teaspoonful of salt, stir together -and pour over the apple, slice a lemon very thin and lay over the top, -bake slowly three hours; eat with butter, with wine sauce, or hard -sauce, as you prefer. - -=Sweet-Apple Pudding.=--One pint of scalded milk, half a pint of Indian -meal, one teaspoonful of salt, six sweet apples cut in small pieces, -one small teacupful of finely chopped suet, two great spoonfuls of -molasses, half a teaspoonful of ginger, nutmeg, or cinnamon,--whichever -is most desirable,--two eggs well beaten, and half a teaspoonful soda. -Beat all well together, put into a pudding-mold, and boil two hours. - -=Fig Pudding.=--Half a pound of the best figs, washed and chopped fine, -two teacupfuls of grated bread, half a cupful of sweet cream, half a -cupful of sugar, and one cupful of milk. Mix the bread and cream, add -the figs, then the sugar, and lastly the milk. Pour the mixture into a -mold, and boil three hours. Eat with wine or hard sauce. - -=Barley Cream for Invalids.=--Boil two pounds of lean veal in one quart -of water, add to it a quarter of a pound of pearl barley, and boil till -it can be rubbed through a sieve. It should be about as thick as cream. -Add a little salt. - -=Apple Float.=--One pint stewed and well-mashed apples; whites of three -eggs, and four large spoonfuls of sugar, beaten until stiff; then add -the apples, and beat all together till stiff enough to stand alone. -Fill a deep dish with rich cream, or boiled soft custard, and pile -the float on top. This is excellent with other fruits in place of the -apples. - -=Sago Pudding.=--One dozen tart apples, one and a half cup of -sago,--soak the sago in water till soft; peel and core the apples and -place in a dish, fill the apples with sugar, a very little cinnamon and -nutmeg, pour the sago over and bake until the apples are cooked. Eat -with wine sauce or hard sauce. - -=Cocoa-nut Custard.=--One pound grated cocoa-nut, one pint of rich -milk, and six ounces of sugar. Beat the yelks of six eggs, and stir -them into the milk with the nut and sugar. Put into a farina-kettle, -or into a small pail which you can set into a kettle of boiling water; -stir all the time till very smooth and thick; as soon as it comes to a -hard boil, take off and pour into cups. - -=Apple Pudding.=--One pint of stewed and sifted apples, three eggs well -beaten, whites and yelks separate, sugar enough to make the apple quite -sweet, one cup of stoned raisins rolled in flour; half-pint each of -milk and cream or condensed milk, and a little salt and nutmeg. - -=Sauce.=--One cup of sugar and half a cup of butter, rubbed to a cream; -the white of one egg well beaten, a little nutmeg or orange, and when -ready to serve, stir in two great spoonfuls of boiling water; if -preferred, add half a gill of wine instead of orange juice. - -=Nice Cheap Pudding.=--One quart of milk, four table-spoonfuls of -flour, four eggs, six table-spoonfuls of sugar, nutmeg. Steam three -fourths of an hour. - -=Orange Pudding.=--Peel five oranges; cut in thin slices; take out -all the seeds. Pour over them a large cupful of white sugar. Bring a -pint of rich milk to a boil in a farina-kettle; wet a table-spoonful -of corn-starch in a little cold milk; beat the yelks of three eggs -and pour them into the boiling milk, stirring all the time. When it -thickens a little, pour over the fruit. Beat the whites to a stiff -foam; add a table-spoonful of white sugar, and pour over the top; set -it in the oven a few minutes to harden, but do not brown it. Eaten hot -or cold for dinner or tea. Substitute berries or peaches for oranges, -if you prefer. - -=Custard without Eggs.=--To one quart of new milk one teaspoonful of -rennet wine, or a small piece of rennet, a little lemon, nutmeg, or -vanilla, or any spice you prefer, and one table-spoonful of sugar to -each quart of milk. If too sweet, the milk will not set firmly or -quickly. Stir all together, and set by the stove or near the fire; -cover closely. It should begin to stiffen in an hour. If it does not, -add more wine, or rennet. When firm, before the whey separates, take -out the piece of rennet if the skin was used, and set on ice till -dinner. To be eaten with sugar and rich cream. Nutmeg is always an -improvement, even if lemon or vanilla is used. - -The wine rennet is nicer than simply the skin, and it is a good idea to -keep a bottle of wine with a piece of rennet in always on hand, as it -is often desirable to have it ready. - -=A Quick Pudding.=--Bring a quart of milk to the boiling point in a -farina-kettle or a pail set into boiling water; add a small teaspoonful -of salt, two table-spoonfuls of rice or wheat flour, wet smooth with -cold milk. Stir this in as soon as the milk boils. Stir it a few -minutes till perfectly smooth, and let it remain in the outside vessel -of boiling water half an hour. Be sure and keep the water in receiver -or saucepan boiling hard around the inner one all the time. Eat with -butter and sugar, or thick cream and sugar. - -This is very healthful, especially in the summer, and invaluable for -invalids, or children suffering with summer complaint. When used as a -remedy or preventive, it should boil longer, say one hour. - -=Rice Meringue.=--Pick over one teacup of rice, wash clean, and boil in -water until it is soft. When done, drain all the water from it. Let it -get cool and then add one quart of new milk, the well-beaten yelks of -three eggs, three table-spoonfuls of white sugar, and a little nutmeg; -pour into a baking-dish and bake half an hour. Let it get cold; then -beat the whites stiff, add two great spoonfuls of sugar, flavor with -lemon or vanilla, and spread it over the pudding, and slightly brown it -in the oven. Be careful not to let it scorch. - -=Sago Pudding.=--One dozen tart apples, one and a half cups of sago, -soak the sago in water till soft; peel and core the apples and place in -a dish; fill the apples with sugar, a very little cinnamon and nutmeg, -pour the sago over, and bake until the apples are cooked. Eat with wine -or hard sauce. - -=Lemon or Orange Honeycomb.=--Sweeten the juice of two oranges or -lemons. Beat the whites of two eggs into a quart of rich cream, and -whisk it; as the froth rises, skim off and lay on the lemon or orange -juice. Whisk until you have the whole frothed and laid on the juice. It -makes a pretty and agreeable dish. It should be prepared the day before -needed, and set in a cool place. - -=Apple Snow.=--Stew fine flavored, sour apples; sweeten and flavor to -suit your taste; strain, and to one quart of sifted apples allow the -whites of four eggs. Whisk them to a stiff froth; then put the apple -and whites together, and continue to whip until they are so stiff you -can turn the dish upside down without the mass falling off. Eat with -cream or with bread and milk. - -=Snow Pudding.=--Dissolve one box Cox’s gelatine in one pint of boiling -water; add two cups sugar and the juice of one lemon; strain when -nearly cold; beat the whites of three eggs to a stiff froth, add them -to the gelatine; beat all well together and put into a mold to shape -it and let it get cold. Then take the yelks of three eggs, beat and -add to a pint of rich milk, one teaspoonful corn-starch, flavor with -vanilla, and boil in a farina-kettle. When you wish to serve, empty the -mold of gelatine, etc. into the dish, and pour the custard over. In -boiling the custard, be careful not to cook it too much; stir all the -time, and the moment it begins to set or thicken remove it. If cooked -too long it will whey. - -=Cocoa-nut Pudding or Pies.=--Break the nut, save the milk; take -out the meat and grate it very fine; take equal weight of sugar and -cocoa-nut, and half the quantity of butter; rub the butter and sugar to -a cream; take five eggs, whites and yelks beaten separately very stiff; -one cup of milk and the milk of the cocoa-nut, and a little grated -lemon. Line the dish with a nice paste, put in the pudding, and bake -one hour. Cover the rim with paper to prevent burning. This receipt -will answer equally as well for pies as for pudding. It will make three -pies. - -=Bohemian Cream.=--Four ounces of any fruit you choose, which has been -steamed soft and sweetened. Pass the fruit through a sieve, and add one -and a half ounces of melted or dissolved isinglass to a half-pint of -fruit; mix it well together; then whip a pint of rich cream, and add -the fruit and isinglass gradually to it. Then pour it all into a mold; -set it on ice or in a cool place, and when hardened or set, dip the -mold a moment in warm water, and turn it out on a dish, ready for the -table. - -=Spanish Cream.=--Dissolve three quarters of an ounce Cox’s gelatine -in one half-pint of water; take one pint milk, one pint cream, the -well-beaten yelks of five eggs, five table-spoonfuls of sugar. Sift all -well together. Flavor with vanilla, lemon, or orange, or any flavor -most agreeable. Put into a farina-kettle and boil till it just begins -to turn. If done too much it will be watery, or wheyey, which spoils -it. When thickened like a smooth rich cream, stir in the dissolved -gelatine, pour into molds, and set in the refrigerator or a very cool -place to harden. Beat up the whites of the eggs and pour over the top -of the cream after you have removed it from the mold to the glass dish, -for the table. - -=Rennet Wine.=--Buy a dried rennet in market, or get a fresh one from -the butcher’s and prepare and dry it yourself. When well dried and -cured, cut it in pieces of one or two inches; put it into a large -bottle and fill up with Madeira wine; for a good-sized rennet add from -three pints to two quarts of wine. It will keep for a year or two. - -=Cold Custard.=--Warm one quart of milk as warm as when just milked; -sweeten and flavor to suit your taste; stir into it two table-spoonfuls -of rennet wine, and turn it at once into the dish in which it is to be -sent to table. - -=Baked Apples.=--Core some Baldwin pippins, or any other fine-flavored -tart apple. Sprinkle sugar on the bottom of a deep dish, and set the -apples into the dish with two or three on top. Fill the holes with -sugar; cover the lower apples with water, and bake one hour. A little -cinnamon, nutmeg, or lemon will be an improvement for those who like -fruit seasoned. - -=Apple Snow.=--Stew some fine-flavored sour apples tender, sweeten to -taste; strain them through a fine wire sieve, and break into one pint -of strained apples the white of an egg; whisk the apple and egg very -briskly, till quite stiff, and it will be as white as snow; eaten with -a nice boiled custard, it makes a very desirable dessert. - -Season with a very little nutmeg and cinnamon, add a little butter, and -bake in good pastry, and you will have a very good apple pie. - - -PRESERVES AND JELLIES. - -=To Can Peaches.=--We find the following mode of canning peaches -in “Tilton’s Journal of Horticulture,” published in Boston. That -journal is always so reliable, that we have no hesitation in giving -these directions to our readers: “Take large ripe peaches,--not -over-ripe,--halve and pare neatly and lay on a large meat-dish. To a -three-peck basket of fruit allow four pounds of sifted sugar; sprinkle -it over the fruit as you lay it in the dish; when done set it in a -cool place overnight; the next morning fit each piece, one by one, -nicely into the jar, draining them from the juice. When the jars are -all filled put them close together in a kettle of cold water, putting -a double towel or something of the kind under them, in the bottom of -the kettle, to prevent their cracking, and set over the fire. Let the -water heat gradually till it boils, while you prepare the syrup from -the juice that has been formed from the peaches and sugar overnight, -then fill up the jars with it, being careful to let the bubbles of air -escape; they will be seen rising to the top; if any are in the lower -part of the jar they will rush up on the insertion of a fork. When all -are full begin to seal up, and have a large pan of hot water standing -near to put the jars in as fast as sealed, where they can cool off -gradually. - -“Where one has glass jars or bottles, without tight-fitting covers, -prepare a cement of one pound rosin to two pounds of mutton-suet, -melted together and well mixed; have pieces of strong muslin cut large -enough to tie over the mouths of the jars or bottles; lay the muslin on -a board and with a spoon spread over a thick coating of cement; take up -the muslin quickly, before it has time to cool, and put it on the jar -with the cement side downward, pressing it closely over the sides. If -the muslin is not very thick it is well to spread more cement on top of -the first cover, and lay over that a second piece of muslin, then tie -down with twine and finish with a good coat of cement over all. This is -a good way to use up old jars whose covers have been broken or lost.” - -=Mixed Marmalade.=--Apples or pears mixed with quince make very -pleasant marmalade. They should be pared and cut in small pieces; -just cover them with water, or boil the cores and skins first and use -the liquor to boil the fruit in; stew the fruit till it can be mashed -with a wooden spoon; when well mashed add the sugar, three fourths of -a pound of sugar to a pound of fruit (of course the fruit is weighed -before beginning to cook); let it cook slowly for two or three hours, -the longer it cooks the more solid it will be when cold. Pear, quince, -and apple marmalade are made in the same way. With pears, if very mild, -many add the juice and grated rind of lemons, to suit the taste, to the -sugar. - -=Jellies.=--In making jellies of apricots, quinces, peaches, apples, -or plums, peel, remove the stones or cores, cut in pieces, cover with -water and boil gently till well cooked; then strain the juice gently -through a jelly-bag, and add a half-pint of sugar to a pint of juice -(for _berries_ a _pound_ of sugar to a pint of juice); boil till it -ropes from the spoon, or from fifteen to twenty minutes. In making -raspberry jelly, use one third currants and two thirds raspberries. - -=Peach Jelly.=--Cut peaches in half, peel them, and take out the pits -from the stones; make a clear syrup of a pound of white sugar to half -a teacup of water. When made and boiling hot put in the peaches and -part of the pits,--too many pits give a bitter flavor,--boil gently -ten minutes, then put half of the peaches on a platter, and boil the -other half ten minutes longer; mix with the liquor of the peaches the -strained juice of three lemons or oranges, and one ounce of isinglass -or Cox’s gelatine, that has been first dissolved and strained; fill the -molds half full of jelly, let it stand till set, then add the rest of -the peaches, and fill the molds with jelly. One dozen peaches will make -a good-sized moldful. It is a very handsome table ornament, and very -palatable. - -=Quince Jelly.=--Boil the quince peelings, cores, and such of the -fruit as you do not wish to can till soft, in just enough water to -cover; then put into jelly-bags wrung out of hot water; hang the bags -by strings on a stick laid across two chairs or benches, with a dish -underneath, and let it drain without squeezing till the juice is all -run out; then to every pint of juice weigh three quarters of a pound of -sugar, put it into a large platter or a deep dish, and set in the oven -to get hot, _but not browned_, while the juice in the preserving-kettle -is brought to a boil; when it begins to boil skim clear, and then pour -in the hot sugar, stir all well together, skim clear, boil fifteen -minutes, and dip into hot jelly-glasses. - -=To Preserve Quinces.=--Select the fairest quinces, pare, cut in half, -and remove the core neatly; then weigh, using a quarter of a pound of -sugar to one of fruit; boil the quinces until tender in enough water to -cover them, and when done take carefully up on a platter. To make your -syrup, use half a pint of the water in which the fruit was boiled to -each pound of sugar. When skimmed clear, boil the quinces in the syrup -five minutes; have the cans hot, and fill while the fruit and syrup are -boiling hot; seal each can, or close the covers tightly, as fast as -filled. - -=Candied Orange Peel.=--Cut the fruit into quarters lengthwise, take -out the pulp and put the peels in strong salt and water for two days, -then take them out and soak for an hour in cold water, after which put -them into a preserving-kettle with fresh cold water and boil till the -peels are tender, when they should be put on a sieve to drain. Make -a thin syrup of a quart of the water in which they were boiled and a -pound of sugar, and simmer the peels in it for half an hour, when they -will look clear; pour the peels and syrup into a bowl together, to -stand till the next day, when you must make as much syrup as will cover -them, of the proportion of a pound of sugar to a pint of water, boiling -it till it will fall from the spoon in threads; put the peels into this -syrup, boil half an hour, then take them out, drain on a sieve, and as -the candy dries transfer them to a dish to finish in a warm place. When -dry, store them for use. This receipt is useful for any lemon, orange, -or citron peel, and perfectly wholesome. - -=Apple and Quince Sauce.=--Pare, quarter, and core one peck of sweet -apples and half a peck of quinces; then weigh both together; save all -the cores and peels that are free from specks or worms; put these into -a preserving-kettle, just cover with water, and boil twenty minutes; -strain and pour the liquor over the quinces, cover closely, and let -it boil till about half done, then add the apples; stir occasionally -to prevent its burning, being careful to break the pieces as little -as possible. When done so that a straw or knitting-needle will pass -easily, add half a pound of sugar to every pound of fruit, stir it -in gently, cover again closely, and leave it on the back part of the -stove to simmer a short time, say twenty minutes, till the sugar is -thoroughly incorporated with the fruit. Then pack in stone pots and -cover closely. It is a very excellent substitute for apple-butter, and -to most tastes more palatable. - -=Apple Sauce.=--Take sweet cider, as soon as it comes from the -cider-press, before it has passed through any change. Boil it down -nearly half; then pare and quarter as many of the best sour apples as -you wish to “do up”; cover them with the cider when boiling hot, and -cook till well done; but not so as to lose their shape. Most of the -cider will be absorbed by the apples. What remains can be bottled for -future use. When done, put into jars, and cover or cement. - -Or, if only needed for daily sauce, let the apples boil longer, -stirring often, until it becomes like marmalade. - -This makes not only a most delicious sauce, but is very healthful, -as all the nourishment of the apples from which the cider is made is -retained, and the stimulating or alcoholic properties are dispelled by -boiling before fermentation takes place, and we lose the sharp, biting -taste of the old _apple-butter_ made from boiled cider. - -=Baked Pears.=--Take ripe pears, juicy and of a good flavor,--not ripe -enough to be very soft. Wipe them clean, put them into a stone jar, -stems upward; when the bottom of the jar is covered, sprinkle over -sugar (the nature of the pear must determine the quantity of sugar -needed; some are so sweet that they require but little). Set in another -layer of pears; add more sugar, and so on till the jar is full. Put -in a pint and a half of water for every gallon that the jar contains; -cover the top of the jar with a paste of simple flour and water, and -bake in a slow oven two hours. - - -CHEESE. - -_Stilton Cheese_ is one of the richest kinds. The cream of one day’s -milk is added to the warm new milk of the next. In England they are -made in a deep hoop or vat containing from eight to ten pounds, and are -not considered of proper age for the table till two years old. Little -blue spots through the cheese, not at all like those on common moldy -cheese, is the test of ripeness. We have seen them made in a two-quart -hoop. They require very careful handling, and are very fine (we think -more agreeable) at a year old than when left to the age that epicures -love best in cheese. - -The _Cottenham Cheese_ is a variety of cream cheese manufactured in -Cottenham, near Cambridgeshire, that is considered superior to the -Stilton, as the herbage upon which the cows feed gives the milk a -peculiar fragrance. - -The _Parmesan_ is made in several parts of Lombardy. It is quite -celebrated. Many suppose it is made from goat’s milk, but it is simply -from cow’s milk skimmed. The meadows of the Po are noted for extremely -rich herbage, and the peculiarities of the Parmesan cheese are owing -in part to this, together with the mode of manufacturing it. Half the -milk to be used is allowed to stand sixteen hours, the other half but -six. It is then heated and coagulated in a boiler, and broken up fine, -without removing, by sticks with cross-wires; then scalded once more -till the curd has separated from the whey and become quite firm. It is -then taken out, drained, salted, and pressed. The best Parmesan cheese -is kept four years before cutting. - -The _Cheddar_ is similar to the Parmesan; but very little of the best -quality is now made, and that which is generally imported for it is -inferior. - -The _Dunlop_ is one of the best Scottish cheeses, made only of new milk, -but there is nothing peculiar in the mode of making it. - -A peculiar kind of cheese in Lincolnshire is known in London as _New -Cheese_. It is made wholly from cream, or sometimes morning’s milk, -warm from the cow, is used, and the cream of the day before added to -it. It is made quite thin, pressed gently two or three times, then -left to _cure_ for a few days, when it is ready to be sent to market -for immediate use. It is greatly esteemed for eating with radish and -salad. This cheese is easily made in any family when sufficient cream -can be spared. Stir in a table-spoonful of rennet to a quart of warm -cream; when the curd is “set,” spread a cloth over a sieve and lay the -curd into it to stand for twenty-four hours, when it may be put into a -small hoop, a wet cloth and a board laid on top, to press and drain it -a little, and in a few hours it will be ready for use. - -The _Swiss Cheese_ has a peculiar flavor and richness, which can be -gained only from the mountain pastures. Some varieties are mottled and -highly flavored by the bruised leaves of the melilot. - -In _Sage_ or _Green Cheese_, the curd is colored and flavored by bruising -the fresh green leaves of sage, marigold, parsley, or corn leaves, and -mixing with the curd. Among the Romans it was customary to flavor with -thyme and other sweet herbs. - -_Cream Cheese_ is simply cream dried sufficiently to be cut with a knife. -Green rushes are plated or sewed together and laid on the bottom of -the hoop, which must have holes all through it for the whey to run off -freely. On these rushes a quantity of good thick cream is laid; another -plait of rushes or Indian-corn leaves is put on top of the cheese, so -that it may be turned without handling. The cheese should not be more -than an inch to an inch and a half thick. The thinner it is made the -sooner it ripens. It is now kept in a warm place for a few days to -sweat or ripen, but it requires much care and good judgment, as too -great heat or cold is injurious. - -In Thuringia and Saxony a cheese is made of five pounds of the best -_potatoes_, half steamed, pulverized and reduced to a pulp, and well -beaten and mixed into ten pounds of sweet curd; a little salt is added, -then it stands three or four days, and is again thoroughly broken up -and kneaded, and then pressed into little baskets for the whey to drain -off, then made into balls and dried in the shade. They keep well, and -improve with age, and are said to excel in flavor the best cheeses made -in Holland. - -We are indebted for much information respecting foreign cheese to -Webster’s “Encyclopedia of Domestic Economy,” a very useful and -valuable work for all housekeepers. - -=Cheese Straus.=--Quarter of a pound of puff paste, and a quarter of -an ounce of good cheese, grated very fine, a little salt and cayenne -pepper mixed with it. Sprinkle the cheese, salt, and pepper over the -paste, and roll it out two or three times. Cut the paste into narrow -strips about five inches long; bake in a slow oven, and serve very hot. - - -PICKLES. - -=Peach Pickles.=--Select the finest and fairest fruit (we prefer -Rareripes or Honest Johns to Morris Whites or Malacatoons, but that is -a matter of taste), weigh the peaches, and for every pound of fruit -take a full pound or slightly heaped quart of granulated sugar; put -one gill of good cider vinegar and half a gill of water to every six -pounds of sugar; put the vinegar and water into the preserving-kettle -first, then add the sugar, set the kettle on the back part of the -range or stove where it will dissolve gradually. While the sugar is -melting prepare the peaches; pour boiling water over a few at a time, -and then rub each one carefully with a soft towel to take off a thin -skin without disfiguring the peach; as you peel throw them into cold -water to prevent their turning black. When all are peeled, or if two -are working at them, as one peels let the other stick a clove and two -small pieces of cinnamon, or two or three cassia-buds into each peach, -and occasionally put in two cloves, but not often, as too many cloves -make them bitter. While preparing the sugar over the fire, and after -waiting a suitable time, if you find it will not dissolve without more -water, add some, but only a little at a time, say half a cupful. It -is difficult to tell _just_ how much water is needed, as some sugar -melts more readily and with less water than others; for this reason it -is wise to add the water by degrees, as for sweet peach pickles it is -desirable to use just as little water as possible. Bring the syrup to -a boil just as soon as possible after you have all the fruit prepared; -skim as fast as the scum rises, and when clear put in as many peaches -as will cover the surface of the syrup without crowding and bruising; -let them boil up for three or four minutes, turn over carefully in -syrup that both sides may be cooked evenly, and then remove into -two-quart stone jars, with nicely fitting covers, taking care not to -break the fruit; dip out a cup or two of syrup to each jar, cover over -and set on the side of the range to keep hot for a little while, till -you have others filled to take their place. Fill each jar full of -fruit. When all the peaches have been thus cooked and removed to jars, -pour in as much syrup as they will hold and allow the cover to fit -closely. Put them aside for three or four days, then drain off all the -syrup and heat it again; when _boiling hot_ fill up the jars again, and -cover up. Repeat the scalding again in a week’s time, unless you find -the peaches were so ripe as to have cooked enough to endanger their -falling to pieces. In that case another scalding would injure them. To -seal up jars, cut a piece of old cotton or linen, large enough to cover -over the top and come half an inch over the side, leaving it loose so -the cover will fit in, dip the cloth in the white of egg to seal it -down over the edge, place on the cover, then wet plaster of Paris quite -soft and spread over the top and so far over the sides as to cover the -cloth. The plaster hardens immediately, and you have a solid cover at -once, and air-tight; wet only as much at a time as will be needed for -one jar, as it stiffens so soon. Put on sufficient to entirely bury the -stone cover. - -=Pickled Plums.=--Prick the plums with a sharp needle, else they -will fall to pieces badly when you put in hot syrup; tie the cloves -and cassia-buds in a cloth, or throw loose into the syrup, instead -of sticking them into the plums. Of course they are not thrown into -boiling water like peaches, as it is desirable to preserve them as -whole and perfect as possible. Except in these two particulars, proceed -as with the peaches. - -For extra rich pickles, when boiling the syrup the second time, add -one third more sugar than was used to make the first syrup. This gives -a very rich fine flavor; the small amount of vinegar used at first -prevents its being too sweet. - -Some prefer peaches, when pickled, quite sour. In that case a pint of -vinegar and three pounds of sugar to every seven pounds of peaches is -the common proportion, with cloves and cassia-buds or cinnamon, as in -the first receipt; cassia-buds are milder and less _woody_ in taste -than cinnamon. - -Pears and crab-apples, prepared like peaches, make a fine pickle. - -=Green Tomato Pickles.=--Slice half a peck of full-grown tomatoes just -ready to turn red. They are more crisp if you can secure them after -there has been almost a frost, not enough to turn the vines black. -Slice very thin, cut off the blossom and stem ends and throw away. For -every gallon of sliced tomatoes take twelve large green peppers,--the -bell pepper is the best. Put a layer of sliced tomatoes into an earthen -or wooden dish, then a layer of peppers, sprinkle over a handful of -salt, then more tomatoes and peppers, adding salt to each layer till -all are put in. A pint of salt is sufficient for a gallon. Press this -down and place a weight on the plate or wooden cover. A metal cover -will not answer. Let it stand till morning, when it should be put in -a sieve or hung up in a strainer to drain. Put three quarts of best -cider vinegar over the fire to scald. Tie up in a cloth two cups of -white mustard-seed, half a cup of sliced horse-radish, half an ounce of -whole cloves, and the same of cinnamon and allspice, and throw into the -vinegar. When the brine has all drained from the tomatoes, pack them -closely in a stone pot and pour the boiling spice and vinegar over it. -Lay over them a plate small enough to fit inside the pot, and put a -smooth clean stone on the plate to keep the pickle under the vinegar. -Let it stand a few days, and then scald again. Some like part of the -spices sprinkled through the tomatoes rather than have all tied in a -bag. Some prefer the spices ground, and many prefer the tomatoes and -peppers chopped, not very fine, rather than sliced. Either way they -make a fine pickle. - -=To Pickle Green Tomatoes.=--Slice thin in separate plates green -tomatoes and onions; allow half a dozen of large green peppers to one -peck of tomatoes. Take a large earthen or wooden bowl and lay in a -layer of tomatoes and a layer of onions, sprinkling in a table-spoonful -of salt to each layer; continue this until you have packed together all -you wish to pickle. Then turn a large plate or clean dry board over the -tomatoes, and put some heavy weight, a stone, on top and let it stand -till morning; then drain off all the salt and juice, and pour over -boiling vinegar, strongly spiced with cinnamon, cloves, and very little -allspice and ginger, which should be tied in a little bag, and removed -when the vinegar is poured over; cover close and let them stand a week, -when the vinegar should be poured off, the pickles thoroughly drained, -and cold vinegar poured over the tomatoes. Some chop the onions pretty -fine after they are drained from the salt. - -=Pickled Nasturtiums.=--Gather the seed when green and not fully grown, -and drop them into vinegar as you pick them. When you have a sufficient -quantity scald the whole in vinegar, and bottle them or soak them -twelve hours in brine; then drain and pour over boiling vinegar, with -whole black peppers and allspice tied in a bag. They are often used as -substitutes for capers, and the flowers and young seeds are used in -salads. - -=Pickled Cauliflower.=--Select the most perfect; break off the flowers, -as they would naturally part. Put a layer of them in a jar and sprinkle -over salt; then another layer of cauliflower; then salt, and so on. Let -them soak two days; then wash off the salt and let them drain well; -then pack in a jar or bottle, and pour over boiling spiced vinegar. In -a few days, if necessary, heat the vinegar again, and pour over them, -and cover or cork closely. - -=Tomato Pickles.=--Slice half a peck of green tomatoes very thin; -sprinkle over them half a pint of salt; slice half a dozen onions -and three large peppers full grown, but before they have turned red; -add these to the tomatoes; let them stand twenty-four hours, then -drain them perfectly free of the liquor or brine; mix with them one -table-spoonful of black pepper, one of allspice, one of mustard, -half a table-spoonful of cloves, and the same of cinnamon all finely -powdered; to this add a quarter-pound of whole mustard-seed; stir all -well together and just cover with good cider vinegar. Boil this mixture -until as thick as jam, stirring often to prevent its burning. - -=To Pickle Onions.=--Choose all of a size; peel and pour on them -boiling salt and water; cover close, and when cold drain the onions, -and put them into jars or bottles. For white onions, fill up with hot -distilled vinegar; for colored onions, use white wine vinegar; for -both, add ginger, two or three blades of mace and whole pepper. If -the onions are soaked in milk a little while after peeling, it will -preserve their color. - -Another way is to soak the onions in brine three or four days, then -drain and pour on cold boiled vinegar, with spices. This will insure -their being crisp. - -=To Pickle Red Cabbage.=--Select the purple-red cabbage, take off the -outside leaves, quarter, and take out the stalk, then shred the cabbage -into a colander or small basket, and sprinkle with common salt. Let it -remain a day or two, then drain and put into jars; fill up with boiling -vinegar, spiced with ginger and black pepper, in the same proportions -as for the cucumbers, and add a few slices of red beet-root; some add a -few grains of powdered cochineal. If the vinegar is _boiled_, and then -allowed to stand until cold before pouring over the cabbage, it will -better insure its crispness, but will not keep so well as if put on -boiling hot. - -=Cucumber Pickles.=--The small long kind are the best for pickling, and -those but half grown are nicer than the full grown. Let them be freshly -gathered; pull off the blossom; but do not rub them; pour over them a -strong brine boiling hot; cover close, and let them stand all night. -The next day put your hand in the jar or tub and stir gently, to remove -all sand; drain on a sieve, and then dry in a cloth. Make a pickle -with the best cider vinegar, adding spice in the following proportions: -To each quart of vinegar put half an ounce of whole black pepper, the -same of ginger and allspice, and one ounce of mustard-seed. If the -flavor is agreeable, add four shalots and two cloves of garlic to a -gallon of vinegar. When this pickle boils up, throw in the cucumbers, -and make them boil as quickly as possible three or four minutes. Put -them in a jar with the boiling vinegar, and cover closely. When cold, -put in a sprig of _dill_, the seed downward, if you like it. Made in -this way they will be tender, crisp, and green. If the color is not -quite clear enough, pour off the vinegar the next day; boil up, and -pour over the cucumbers; cover perfectly tight. - -=To Pickle small Cucumbers and Gherkins.=--Choose small perfect -gherkins or cucumbers; spread on platters, mix a small bit of alum, -pulverized, with salt, and cover them; let them lie in this a week. -Then drain them, put them into a jar, cover with boiling vinegar, and -cover it thick with grape-leaves. Set them near the fire. If they do -not become tolerably green after an hour or so, pour the vinegar into -another jar, set it on the hot range or hearth until too hot to bear -your hand in it, but do not let it _boil_, then pour again over the -pickles, cover with fresh leaves; repeat this till they are as green as -you wish. - -=Tomato Catsup.=--Wash and drain two bushels of fair, ripe tomatoes; cut -out the stems and any imperfect spot; put the fruit into a kettle, -giving each one a squeeze to break the skin as you throw them in (a -brass kettle, _scoured perfectly bright_, is the best, as being less -likely to burn on the bottom than the porcelain kettle). Cut up twelve -ripe bell-peppers and as many onions, and put with the tomatoes. Set -the kettle over the fire and let the fruit cook two hours, stirring -often from the bottom to prevent the tomatoes sticking or burning. Then -strain through a wire sieve, or better still a patent scoop and sieve -combined, made of tin; with a _crank_ or handle to turn the paddle, -which easily presses the juice and meat through the strainer at the -bottom, leaving seeds and skins inside. When strained, add a pint and -a half of salt, a quart of vinegar, three table-spoonfuls of ground -cinnamon, three of black pepper, two of cloves, two of allspice, two -of mace, and one of ginger. Boil slowly twelve hours. Of course it -cannot be finished in one day; but at night must be emptied from the -kettle into large wooden or earthen bowls, covered over closely, and -left to stand till morning. The brass kettle should be well cleaned and -dried as soon as emptied, that no verdigris may form in or around it, -and to be all ready for use the next day. In the morning put the catsup -up into the kettle again, and boil slowly all day, or till as thick as -rich cream, so that no clear liquid will rise to the top. Stir often -from the bottom; as it thickens it will stick to the bottom if not -carefully stirred, and scorch very easily. That will spoil the whole. -It is well to turn a plate down on the bottom of the kettle, it will -not burn so readily. People differ so in their ideas of seasoning--some -like food very fiery and highly seasoned, while others like very -little--that it is not possible to give the exact amount of spices. We -have given a medium quantity which, by tasting, can be varied to suit -your own taste. When cooked sufficiently the catsup should be put into -strong bottles tightly corked and tied down. Very little danger of -bursting the bottles or forcing the cork out. None that we have ever -tried have done so. In hot weather, if kept too damp, it may sour; but -we have now some made last summer as good as the new. - - -MISCELLANEOUS HINTS. - -=To Make Tea.=--There is very little skill required in making tea, and -yet very few have it well prepared. It is important that the water -should be _boiling_, not simply scalding; if it is not, the tea will -be worthless. For English breakfast tea it is best to allow two heaped -teaspoonfuls for each person. Either put the tea into a perfectly dry -pot, and set it on the corner of the range till heated through, before -adding the water, or fill the teapot with _boiling_ water and let it -stand till thoroughly hot; and then empty it out and put in the tea. -This done, pour on two cups of _boiling, bubbling_ hot water, set it on -a range or a trivet over a spirit lamp, and let it boil two minutes; -then add a teacup of boiling water for every person, and let it boil -again for three or four minutes. Put into the teacups sugar and milk -according to the taste of those who are to use the tea, and fill up -with the boiling tea. When the cups are once filled, put more boiling -water to the tea in the same proportion, and again set the pot on the -trivet to boil again three or four minutes. The last will be nearly if -not quite as good as the first drawing, some prefer it; but in no case -fail to have _really boiling_ water. - -In making oolong or green teas, less tea is needed, and much less -boiling. In both cases it is well to put the tea into a perfectly dry -teapot, and set it where it will get hot before the water is put in, or -fill the teapot with boiling water, cover close till thoroughly heated, -then pour out the water and put in the tea before the pot has time to -cool, and then cover the tea with boiling water. Set it where it will -simmer, _not_ boil, five minutes before using. - -_The tea-tree_, or shrub, commonly grows from three to six feet high; -but in its wild or native state it is said to reach twenty-four feet. -In China it is cultivated in numerous small plantations. It resembles -the myrtle in the form of the leaf and general appearance. The blossoms -are not unlike those of the wild rose, but smaller, white, and very -fragrant. The blossoms are succeeded by soft green capsules, containing -from one to three white seeds. These capsules are crushed for oil, -which is in general use in China. - -=Substitute for Milk in Tea and Coffee.=--Beat up one egg to every -coffee-cupful of tea or coffee. Put it in a cup and pour over it very -gradually the tea or coffee, very hot, stirring all the time to prevent -the egg from curdling. - -=Bread Crumbs.=--Be very careful that no piece of bread, that can be -used, is wasted. Gather all waste or broken pieces, put them in a -clean dish, and set into the “heater,” if you have one to your stove -or range; if not, into the oven after the cooking for the day is done, -leaving the door open that the pieces may not burn. When thoroughly -dried roll them fine on a board, and with a rolling-pin kept expressly -for the purpose, as it makes a pastry board and pin rough to roll any -hard substance. Sift the crumbs through a colander, and keep them in -a stone pot, in a dry place, covered closely, or put in a linen bag -and hung up in a cool place. They are excellent to use in cooking -many things, as well as for stuffing, and you cannot save too large a -quantity. If well dried and properly aired, they will keep a year, and -be as sweet as when first rolled, and, aside from the economy, are a -great convenience. - - -GLEANINGS. - -=To Clean Kid Gloves.=--Have ready a little new milk in one saucer, a -piece of white soap in another, and a clean cloth folded two or three -times. On the cloth spread out the glove smooth and neat. Take a piece -of flannel, dip it in the milk, then rub off a good quantity of soap on -the wetted flannel, and commence to rub the glove toward the fingers, -holding it firmly with the left hand. Continue this process until the -glove, if white, looks of a dingy yellow, though clean; if colored, -till it looks dry and spoiled. Lay it to dry, and the operator will -soon be gratified to see that the old glove looks nearly new. It will -be soft, glossy, smooth, and elastic. - -=To Keep Grapes.=--The Chinese have a curious method of preserving -grapes, so as to have them at command during the entire year. It -consists in cutting a circular piece out of a ripe pumpkin or gourd, -making an aperture large enough to admit the hand. The interior is next -completely cleaned out, the ripe grapes are placed inside, and the -cover replaced and pressed in firmly. The pumpkins are then kept in a -cool place, and the grapes will be found to retain their freshness for -a very long time. - -=To Clean Oil-Cloths.=--Do not use soap, or scour with a brush, but -wash with soft flannel and lukewarm water; wipe perfectly dry. Then -wring a clean cloth out of skimmed milk, and wipe the oil-cloth over, -moving the cloth one way, straight across, not round in circles or -waves, and finish with a clean, dry cloth. In this way you can keep the -oil-cloth looking fresh and new, and it will last much longer than if -washed with soap and scrubbed with a brush. - -=Fill your Lamps in the Morning.=--Scarcely a week passes but we read -accounts of frightful accidents from kerosene lamps exploding and -killing or scarring for life men, women, and children. A simple -knowledge of the inflammable nature of the liquid will probably put -a stop to nearly all the accidents. As the oil burns down in the -lamp, highly inflammable gas gathers over its surface, and as the -oil decreases the gas increases. When the oil is nearly consumed, a -slight jar will inflame the gas, and an explosion is sure to follow. -A bombshell is no more to be dreaded. Now, if the lamp is not allowed -to burn more than half-way down, such accidents are almost impossible. -Always fill your lamp every morning, and then you need never fear an -explosion. - -=Colored Silk.=--Mix equal parts of soft soap, alcohol, and molasses. -Cover a table with a clean cloth, spread the article to be cleansed on -smooth, and, holding firmly with one hand, sponge it thoroughly with -this mixture. If the silk is spotted with grease or stains, give the -spots an extra sponging. When the silk has been well sponged, rinse in -tepid water twice, and finish with a third rinsing in cold water. Have -your irons hot, and iron the silk immediately as it is taken from the -last water. Of course if a dress is to be cleansed, it will be first -ripped apart and each piece sponged, rinsed, and ironed, before the -next is touched. It is a great convenience when two persons can work -together in doing this,--one to sponge, while the second rinses and -irons. This compound for cleansing silk does not sound inviting, but -_try it_. We have washed the most delicate colors,--blues, violets, -etc.,--and unless the color is entirely taken out, or paint been -transferred to the silk, it is surprising how like a new silk the dress -can be made to look. Cashmeres or merinoes of the finest color can be -thus cleansed and made to look like new; but they should be rinsed in -hot water. - -=To Remove Fruit Stains.=--A solution of chloride of soda will remove -peach and all fruit or vegetable stains, and is also excellent in -removing mildew; but for this it must be applied several times, and -exposed to the sun, while fruit can be removed by it instantly. Of -course it can only be used for white cotton or linen goods. It is -perfectly harmless if well rinsed in clear water immediately after -using. - -=Bee or Wasp Stings.=--Wet some cut tobacco and lay it on the sting. In -five minutes it will be cured. Always keep cut tobacco in the house for -such emergencies. It is invaluable and sure. - -=To Preserve Brooms.=--Wet the broom every week in boiling suds, and -it will be toughened by it, will last much longer, will not cut the -carpet, and will sweep as elastic as a new broom. - -=Glossy Starch.=--Put two ounces of white gum-arabic powder into a -pitcher; pour over it a pint of boiling water, stir well and cover it -up; let it stand overnight. In the morning pour it from the dregs into -a clean bottle, and keep for use. A table-spoonful of this stirred into -a pint of starch made in the usual manner will give your lawns, either -black or printed, a new look, which nothing else can give, after being -once washed. Much diluted, it is excellent for thin white muslin. - -=Salt for Nuts.=--Many people find nuts of all kinds injurious, and -some are made seriously ill by them. It is said, and we think truly, -if a little salt be used with them it will prevent any injury or -inconvenience arising from their use. - -=To Take Ink Stains from Mahogany.=--Put a few drops of nitre in a -teaspoonful of water. Touch the ink-spot with a feather dipped in the -mixture; and as soon as the ink disappears, rub it instantly with a -cloth wet in cold water, or there will be a white mark left, which will -be difficult to remove. - -=To Keep Quinces.=--Gather the fruit at the usual time, then put -carefully into barrels so as not to bruise, rejecting all but the -perfectly sound; then fill with water, head up, and put in the cellar. -They will keep all winter, retaining all the peculiar qualities and -flavor of fresh quinces. - -=Fruit Stains.=--When berries and fruits of all kinds are in season, -the housekeeper will find it necessary to look carefully after the -stains. They are easily removed if attended to at once, but if left -to dry for a day or two it will be a more difficult work. Stretch -the stained spot tightly over a deep bowl or pail, and pour over -it _boiling_ hot water, letting it filter through till the stain -disappears. The water must be really _boiling_, not simply scalding. If -the article has been thrown into suds before looking after the stains, -the hot water will not destroy them. In that case wet the stain, and -while wet spread over the spot some chloride of lime, lay the piece -on the grass, or hang on the clothes-line where the sun will strike -through for a few minutes, and then wash and boil immediately. This is -sure, but should be used with care and judgment or it will eat the -cloth; but with proper oversight it is safe and reliable. Chloride -of lime is largely used in bleaching linen, cotton, and silk in the -different manufactures. In former times _chlorine_, or oxygenated -muriatic gas, was used in bleaching, but its effect on the lungs of -the workmen was very injurious. Since chloride of lime has been used -instead of _chlorine_, it is considered safe for those employed in -factories, and harmless in its effects on the goods bleached. In -pickling, paring, or preserving fruit, the hands get badly stained. Rub -them in lemon-juice; wet your nail-brush in the juice and carefully -brush your nails and hands; this will remove the stains effectually. A -“bleaching liquid,” prepared from chloride of lime, is very effectual -in removing all stains except those made by grease. Put four ounces of -chloride of lime into a wide-mouthed quart bottle, add a little water -and stir well with a stick, then fill the bottle nearly full with -water, and let it stand corked for two weeks, that the chloride may -dissolve. During this time some gas will be disengaged, and to prevent -explosion or driving out the cork it will be well twice a day to remove -the cork for an instant only, and as the gas has an extremely offensive -smell it is important that care should be taken not to inhale it, as it -is injurious to the lungs; when diffused through the apartment in small -quantity it is not hurtful. After standing two weeks, the fluid portion -should be poured off and kept in a bottle in a dark place, with paper -wrapped around it, as light and air injure its properties. This fluid -should be kept in every family, but servants ought not to be allowed to -use it indiscreetly. - -=Ink Stains.=--If _ink_ is spilled on clothes or carpet, do not allow -it to dry, but as speedily as possible get _cotton batting_, and, -wetting it in sweet milk, soak the spot and rub with the cotton. Wring -the cotton out and soak again with milk, and if used when the ink is -fresh it will soon remove it. This done, wash in warm soapsuds and -rinse in clear warm water. - -=Buying Furs.=--In purchasing furs, a sure test of what dealers call a -prime fur is the length and density of the down next to the skin. This -can be readily determined by blowing a brisk current of air from the -mouth against the set of the fur. If the fibers open readily, exposing -the skin to view, reject the article; but if the down is so dense that -the breath cannot penetrate it, or at most shows but a small portion of -the skin, the article may be accepted. - -=Drying Umbrellas.=--Most people dry their umbrellas handle upwards. -This concentrates the moisture at the tip where it is close, rusts -the wire which secures the stretchers, and rots the cloth. After the -umbrella is drained, it is better to invert it, and dry it in that -position. - -=A Tight Ring.=--To remove a tightly fitting ring from a finger, -without pain, pass the end of a portion of rather fine twine underneath -the ring, and evenly encircle the finger from below upward (as -whipmakers bind lashes on) with the remainder, as far as the centre of -the finger, then unwind the string from above downward by taking hold -of the end passed under the ring, and it will be found the ring will -gradually pass along the twine toward the tip of the finger. - -=Scrubbing White Paint.=--As little soap as possible should be -used with this, and that in the water and not on the cloth. It not -only makes the paint yellow, but, after a little while, removes it -altogether. A noted housekeeper would never allow either soap or hot -water to be used on paint, except in case of grease. Cold water and -a scrubbing-brush were her weapons of offence in waging warfare with -dirt. This makes hard work, but it gives a very fresh look to paint, -and saves soap and fire, if one is inclined to try it. For greasy -spots use a very little soda (carbonate) in the first water, to be -immediately rinsed off and wiped dry. - -=How to Wash Graining.=--Take clear _warm_ water, a clean, white cloth, -and wash a small place and wipe dry with another _clean white_ cloth. -Do not wet any more space than you can dry immediately with your cloth, -as it must not be left to dry in the atmosphere; it must be rubbed -dry, hence the necessity for clean white cloths. If the paint has been -neglected until very much soiled with greasy fingers, or specked with -a summer’s growth of flies, a very little hard soap may be put in the -first water, and then rinsed off with clear water; but avoid soap if -you possibly can, as it dulls the varnish, however carefully used. On -no account must it be rubbed on with a cloth. - -Codfish should be purchased in small quantities, as they are -disagreeable to have in the house. Even the desiccated codfish, that -comes in boxes, cannot be kept so tightly covered as to secure us from -the unpleasant smell. If kept in a dry place they grow hard, if in a -damp place they will spoil. They must be changed from garret to cellar -often to keep them in proper condition, and therefore it is better to -get them only as needed. - -Zante currants and stoneless or sultana raisins should be washed and -dried when first bought, and then packed into jars for use. It is well -to look them over occasionally, to see that they do not become wormy. -If there should be any appearance of mold or worms, empty from the jars -and spread on a cloth or paper to dry, in the warm sun or by the fire. -When dry, repack. - -Keep cheese in a dry place. A cheese-box with perforated wire sides is -the best thing to put it in, as the air will circulate through it. When -the cheese is cut wrap a cloth tightly about it to prevent its drying. - -Smoked beef should be kept in a bag and hung up. Hams, also, when cut, -should be tied into a cloth or bag and hung up in a cool dry place. - -If strawberries, pineapples, and all delicate preserves are kept in a -box and filled in with sand, they will keep better and longer. Sawdust -or tan-bark is not good to fill in around them, as it gathers moisture -and molds the preserves. - -Keep the flour-barrel well covered with a close-fitting wooden cover. -Hang the sifter on a nail over it, but never leave it in the barrel. -Besides being untidy, the accumulation of flour, dough, or moisture -from your hands will soon coat the sieve so that it cannot be used with -ease, and in a short time make the flour musty or sour. It should be -well washed and dried after the baking for each day is finished. No -flour should be use unsifted, both from cleanliness and because the -food will be lighter. - -Indian meal should be kept in a cool, dry place, in a barrel or wooden -pail, and stirred from the bottom often, particularly in warm weather, -as it will readily become sour or musty. Never use without sifting. - -Coffee should be bought by the bag or barrel, as it grows better by age. - -Tea is cheaper by the box, but take out a pound canister at a time, and -replacing the tin foil, nail the box up again. - -Keep the canister always shut, as air injures the tea badly. - -Raisins and starch are cheaper by the box; but raisins must be kept -from heat or air, or they dry up and become almost worthless; and the -starch must be kept covered to protect it from dust. - -=Household Weights and Measures.=--Wheat flour, one pound is one quart. - -Indian meal, one pound two ounces is one quart. - -Butter, when soft, one pound one ounce is one quart. - -Loaf sugar, broken, one pound is one quart. - -White sugar, powdered, one pound one ounce is one quart. - -Best brown sugar, one pound two ounces is one quart. - -Eggs, average size, ten are one pound. - -Liquid measure, sixteen table-spoonfuls are half a pint. - -=To test Flour.=--Place a little in the palm of the hand, rub gently -with the finger; if the flour smooths down, feeling slippery, it is -inferior flour and will never make good bread, but if it rubs rough -in the palm, feeling like fine sand, and has an orange hue, you may -purchase it confidently. It will not disappoint you. - - -THE END. - - -Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. - - - - -SOME GOOD BOOKS. - -FOR SALE BY ALL BOOKSELLERS, OR MAILED, POST-PAID, TO ANY ADDRESS, ON -RECEIPT OF THE PRICE, BY THE PUBLISHERS, - -J. B. FORD AND COMPANY, - -No. 27 Park Place, New York. - - - BEECHER’S SERMONS: _First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, and - Sixth Series._ From phonographic reports by T. J. ELLINWOOD, - for fifteen years Mr. Beecher’s special reporter. Uniformly - bound in dark brown English cloth. Single volumes, each - complete, price, $2.50; full set of six volumes for $14.50. - Bound in half morocco, $5 per vol. - -Of the first volume the _Advance_, of Chicago, said:-- - -“The volume is a handsome one, and is prefaced with the best portrait -of Mr. Beecher we have ever seen. The sermons are twenty-seven in -number, the regular Sunday morning discourses of six months, and are -a wonderful testimony, not only to the real goodness of heart of the -great Plymouth preacher, but to the fertility of resource, industry of -thought, and rare ability which can keep his regular ministrations to -such a height of average excellence.” - -... “These corrected sermons of perhaps the greatest of living -preachers,--a man whose heart is as warm and catholic as his abilities -are great, and whose sermons combine fidelity and Scriptural -truth, great power, glorious imagination, fervid rhetoric, and -vigorous reasoning, with intense human sympathy and robust common -sense.”--_British Quarterly Review._ - -Each succeeding volume contains, also, six months’ sermons (from 450 to -500 pp.) issued in style uniform with the _First Series_. The _Second -Series_ contains a fine interior view of Plymouth Church. The other -volumes are not illustrated. - - - LECTURE-ROOM TALKS. A series of Familiar Discourses, on - Themes of Christian Experience. By HENRY WARD BEECHER. - Phonographically reported by T. J. ELLINWOOD; with Steel - Portrait. 12mo, extra cloth. Price, $1.75. [_Out of print. Will - be reissued soon._] - -“J. B. Ford & Co., who are now printers and publishers to the Beecher -family, have collected in a handsome volume the _Lecture-Room Talks_ -of the Brooklyn preacher, held in the weekly prayer-meeting of the -Plymouth Church. There is a great deal of humorous talk mingled with -much that is serious, and the subjects discussed are of the most varied -kind. It is a charming book.”--_Springfield (Mass.) Republican._ - - - MY WIFE AND I; or, Harry Henderson’s History. A Novel. By - HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. Illustrated by H. L. STEPHENS. 474 - pages; extra cloth, stamped cover, $1.75. - -This novel is the success of the year. It has been selling very rapidly -ever since its publication. _Everybody is reading it._ - -“Always bright, piquant, and entertaining, with an occasional touch of -tenderness, strong because subtle, keen in sarcasm, full of womanly -logic directed against unwomanly tendencies, Mrs. Stowe has achieved an -unbounded success in this her latest effort.”--_Boston Journal._ - - - MATERNITY: A Popular Treatise for Wives and Mothers. By T. S. - VERDI, A. M., M. D., of Washington, D. C. Handsomely printed on - fine paper, bevelled boards, extra English cloth. 12mo. 450 pp. - Price, $2.25. _Fourth Edition._ - -“The author deserves great credit for his labor, and the book merits an -extensive circulation.”--_U. S. Medical and Surgical Journal (Chicago)._ - -“There are few intelligent mothers who will not be benefited by reading -and keeping by them for frequent counsel a volume so rich in valuable -suggestions. With its tables, prescriptions, and indices at the end, -this book ought to do much good.”--_Hearth and Home._ - -“We hail the appearance of this work with true pleasure. It is dictated -by a pure and liberal spirit, and will be a real boon to many a young -mother.”--_American Medical Observer (Detroit)._ - - - THE CHILDREN’S WEEK: Seven Stories for Seven Days. By R. W. - RAYMOND. 16mo. Nine full page illustrations by H. L. STEPHENS - and MISS M. L. HALLOCK. Price, extra cloth, $1.25; cloth, full - gilt, $1.50. - -“The book is bright enough to please any people of culture, and yet so -simple that children will welcome it with glee. Mr. Raymond’s tales -have won great popularity by their wit, delicate fancy, and, withal, -admirable good sense. The illustrations--all new and made for the -book--are particularly apt and pleasing, showing forth the comical -element of the book and its pure and beautiful sentiment.”--_Buffalo -(N. Y.) Commercial Advertiser._ - - THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. By HENRY WARD BEECHER. Illustrated by - HARRY FENN. 12mo, tinted paper, extra cloth, gilt. Price, $2.00. - -This exquisite gift book is an excerpt from Mr. Beecher’s great work, -the “Life of Jesus the Christ.” It is a series of pictures, in the -author’s happiest style, of the Angelic Appearances, giving a beautiful -and characteristically interesting treatment of all the events recorded -in the Gospels as occurring about the period of the nativity of our -Lord. - -“The style, the sentiment, and faithfulness to the spirit of the -Biblical record with which the narrative is treated are characteristic -of its author, and will commend it to many readers, to whom its -elegance of form will give it an additional attraction.”--_Worcester -(Mass.) Spy._ - -“A perfect fragment.”--_New York World._ - - - OUR SEVEN CHURCHES: Eight Lectures by THOMAS K. BEECHER. 16mo. - Paper, 50 cents; extra cloth, $1; cloth, gilt, $1.25. - -“The eight lectures comprised in this volume are conceived in a spirit -of broad liberality as refreshing as it is rare. They evince, in the -most gratifying manner possible, how easy it is to find something -good in one’s neighbors or opponents, or even enemies, if one tries -faithfully to do so, instead of making an effort to discover a fault -or a weakness. The volume is one which should have, as it undoubtedly -will, a wide circulation.”--_Detroit Free Press._ - - - MINES, MILLS, AND FURNACES of the Precious Metals of the United - States. Being a complete Exposition of the General Methods - employed in the great Mining Industries of America, including - a Review of the present Condition and Prospects of the Mines - throughout the Interior and Pacific States. By ROSSITER - W. RAYMOND, Ph. D., United States Commissioner of Mining - Statistics, President American Inst. Mining Engineers, Editor - of the _Engineering and Mining Journal_, author of “The Mines - of the West,” “American Mines and Mining,” etc., etc. 1 vol. - 8vo. 566 pages. Illustrated with engravings of machines and - processes. Extra cloth, $3.50. - -“The author is thorough in his subject, and has already published a -work on our mines which commanded universal approval by its clearness -of statement and breadth of views.”--_Albany (N. Y.) Argus._ - -“His scientific ability, his practical knowledge of mines and mining, -his unerring judgment, and, finally, the enthusiasm with which he -enters upon his work, all combine to fit him for his position, -and none could bring to it a greater degree of uprightness and -fairness.”--_Denver (Col.) News._ - - - PRINCIPLES OF DOMESTIC SCIENCE: As applied to the Duties - and Pleasures of Home. By CATHARINE E. BEECHER and HARRIET - BEECHER STOWE. A compact 12mo volume of 390 pages, profusely - illustrated; well printed, and bound in neat and substantial - style. Price, $2.00. - -Prepared with a view to assist in training young women for the -distinctive duties which inevitably come upon them in household life, -this volume has been made with especial reference to the duties, cares, -and pleasures of _the family_, as being the place where, whatever the -political developments of the future, woman, from her very nature of -body and of spirit, will find her most engrossing occupation. It is -full of interest for all intelligent girls and young women. - -☞ The work has been heartily endorsed and adopted by the directors -of many of the leading Colleges and Seminaries for young women as a -text-book, both for study and reading. - - - HISTORY OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK. From the date of the - Discovery and Settlements on Manhattan Island to the Present - Time. A Text-Book for High Schools, Academies, and Colleges. By - S. S. RANDALL, Superintendent of Public Education in New York - City. 12mo vol, 396 pages. Illustrated. Price, $1.75. - -“This work contains so much valuable information that it should -be found in every house in the State as a volume of reference. -Its value for use in educational institutions is of a very high -character.”--_Northern Budget, Troy (N. Y.)._ - -☞ Officially adopted by the Boards of Education in the cities of New -York, Brooklyn, and Jersey City for use in the Public Schools, and also -extensively used in Private Schools throughout the State, both as a -text-book and alternate reader. - - - H. W. BEECHER’S WORKS. Uniform edition. This is a set of books - long needed in the trade. It will include “Norwood,” “Lectures - to Young Men,” “Eyes and Ears,” “Summer in the Soul,” the early - “Star Papers,” a new edition of “Lecture-Room Talks,” and other - works, embracing some which are now out of print, and for which - there is constant call. - - -The first volumes issued in this new edition of Mr. Beecher’s minor -works are - -YALE LECTURES ON PREACHING, - -Price, extra cloth, $1.25; half calf, $2.50; and a new edition of - -LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN, - -including several new lectures never before published, a new -Introduction by the author, etc., etc. Price, extra cloth, $1.50; half -calf, $3.00. - -STAR PAPERS, - -A new edition, including much new matter added to the original book. -Price, extra cloth, $1.75; half calf, $3.25. - - -A FRESH BOOK BY GRACE GREENWOOD. - - NEW LIFE IN NEW LANDS: NOTES OF WESTERN TRAVEL. Racy, - sparkling, readable, full of wit and keen observation, it gives - a series of brilliant pen pictures along the great route from - the Mississippi to the Pacific. 12mo. 396 pp. Price, extra - cloth, stamped cover, $2.00. - - A BRILLIANT SUCCESS. - - IN CONSTANT DEMAND! RAPID AND CONTINUED SALES!! - - 500 Volumes in One. - - AGENTS WANTED - - FOR THE - - LIBRARY OF POETRY AND SONG, - - BEING - - Choice Selections from the Best Poets, - - ENGLISH, SCOTCH, IRISH, AND AMERICAN, INCLUDING TRANSLATIONS - FROM THE GERMAN, SPANISH, etc. - - WITH AN INTRODUCTION - - BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, - - _Under whose careful Supervision the Work was Compiled_. - - In one Superb Large Octavo Volume of over 800 pages, well - printed, on Fine Paper, and Illustrated with an admirable - Portrait on Steel of Mr. Bryant, together with twenty-six - Autographic Fac-Similes on Wood of Celebrated Poets, besides - other choice Full-page Engravings, by the best Artists. - - * * * * * - -The handsomest and cheapest subscription book extant. _A Library of -over =500= Volumes in one book_, whose contents, of no ephemeral nature -or interest, will never grow old or stale. It can be, and will be, read -and re-read with pleasure as long as its leaves hold together. - -This book has been prepared with the aim of gathering into a single -volume the largest practicable compilation of the best Poems of the -English language, making it as nearly as possible the choicest and most -complete general collection of Poetry yet published. - - - THE - - “LIBRARY OF POETRY AND SONG” - -Is a volume destined to become one of the most popular books ever -printed. It is truly a people’s book. Its contents would cost hundreds -of dollars in the books whence they are gleaned, English and American; -and, indeed, although one possessed the volumes, the reading of such -vast numbers of pages would be a labor not readily undertaken by most -people, even those who appreciate poetry. - - -The New York Times, - -A journal well known the country over for high literary excellence and -correct taste, says:-- - -“This very handsome volume differs from all collections of ‘elegant -extracts,’ parlor books, and the like, which we have seen, in being -arranged according to an intelligible and comprehensive plan, in -containing selections which nearly cover the entire historical period -over which English poetry extends, and in embracing matter suited to -every conceivable taste and every variety of feeling and culture. -_We know of no similar collection in the English language which, in -copiousness and felicity of selection and arrangement, can at all -compare with it._... The volume is a model of typographical clearness.” - - -The Albany Evening Journal, - -One of the oldest papers and highest literary standards in the country, -says:-- - -“It is undoubtedly ‘the choicest and most complete general collection -of poetry yet published.’ It will be deemed sufficient proof of the -judicious character of the selections, and of their excellence, that -‘every poem has taken its place in the book only after passing the -cultured criticism of Mr. William Cullen Bryant,’ whose portrait -constitutes the fitting frontispiece of the volume. The work could have -no higher indorsement. Mr. Bryant’s Introduction to the volume is a -most beautiful and critical essay on poets and poetry, from the days -of ‘the father of English poetry’ to the present time.... _No other -selection we know of is as varied and complete as this_: and it must -find its way into every library and household where poetry is read and -appreciated.” - - -This book, supplying a real public need in an admirable manner, has -constantly sold so fast that the publishers have had trouble to keep up -their stock. It has won an INSTANT AND PERMANENT POPULARITY. - -=Terms liberal.= Agents all like it, and buyers are more than pleased -with it. ☞ Send for Circular and Terms to - - J. B. FORD & CO., Publishers, - 27 Park Place, New York. - -=BRANCH OFFICES=: Boston, 11 Bromfield Street; Chicago, 75 West -Washington Street; San Francisco, 339 Kearney Street. - - A HOUSEHOLD BOOK. - - NINE UNABRIDGED, WORLD-RENOWNED VOLUMES IN ONE. - - - AGENTS WANTED - - FOR THE - - LIBRARY OF FAMOUS FICTION, - - EMBRACING THE - - Nine Standard Masterpieces of Imaginative Literature - - (UNABRIDGED), - - _WITH AN INTRODUCTION_ - - BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. - - BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED - - With =34 Full-page Engravings=; executed by the best Artists in - England and America; with an Illuminated Title-Page, Biographical - Notice of each Author, etc.,--in one Elegant Large Octavo Volume - of nearly =1,100 pages=, brilliantly printed on fine paper, - handsomely and substantially bound. - -In their present venture, the publishers congratulate themselves that -the matter offered has been endorsed by the approval of the entire -reading world for many generations. The remarkable success attending -their _Library of Poetry and Song_, put forth under the auspices -of that greatest American poet, WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, naturally -suggested the idea of a corresponding _Library of Famous Fiction_, to -be guaranteed and set before the public by the most popular American -writer of fiction known to this day,--MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. Thus -have been combined the nine great masterpieces of imaginative prose, -embodying in a single convenient volume those Famous Fictions which -have been admired and loved always, everywhere, and by all classes. - -Their number is not large; their names rise spontaneously, and by -common consent, in every mind: _Pilgrim’s Progress_; _Robinson Crusoe_; -_The Vicar of Wakefield_; _Gulliver’s Travels_ (revised); _Paul -and Virginia_; _Picciola_; _Elizabeth, or the Exiles of Siberia_; -_Undine_; _Vathek_; _and a Selection of Tales from the Arabian Nights’ -Entertainments_. As MRS. STOWE says in her Introduction, “not a single -one could be spared from this group, in gathering those volumes of -fiction which the world, without dissent, has made _classic_.” - - -☞ Sold only by Subscription through our Agents. ☜ - -=TERMS LIBERAL.= Send for full description and business circulars, to - - J. B. FORD & CO., Publishers, - =27 Park Place, New York=. - -=BRANCH OFFICES=: Boston, 11 Bromfield Street; Chicago, 75 West -Washington Street; San Francisco, 339 Kearney Street. - - SOLD ONLY BY AGENTS. - - A BOOK FOR EVERYBODY! - - - The very remarkable success of this book is not strange, although - it is having unprecedented sales. - - - THE LIFE - - OF - - JESUS THE CHRIST, - - BY - - HENRY WARD BEECHER. - - -From the Boston (Mass.) Traveller. - -“This work has a deeper purpose to serve than that of mere ornament. -It is the product of a life of thought and loving labor in study of -the character and life of Jesus, and a remarkably successful career of -presenting it to the popular mind in the ministry of the pulpit. - -“The demand for this book will be great among the searchers after -knowledge, and it will be a standard for Christian homes and libraries. -It is destined to exert a tremendous influence, not only in this day -and generation, but in all time.” - - -By the Rev. Joseph P. Thompson, LL. D., from an article in The -Independent. - -“That which first impresses one in Mr. Beecher’s book is the maturity -of the work, both in its conception and in its execution. If any have -expected to find in it rhetorical fancies struck out at extemporaneous -heat, declamatory statements--‘the spontaneities of all his individual -personal life’--projected from some fusing centre of philosophy within, -but not welded into logical consistency, they have yet to know Mr. -Beecher through this book, as working by method upon a well-ordered -scheme of thought, and with a deep philosophic purpose toward one -great, overmastering conception. He has neither thrown off his random -thoughts nor strung together his best thoughts; but has brought all his -powers, in the maturity of their strength, in the richness of their -experience, and the largeness of their development, to produce a work -that may fitly represent the labors and the results of his life.” - - -More Agents Wanted. - -Intelligent men and women may obtain lucrative employment by taking an -agency. Full descriptive Circulars mailed free. Very liberal terms to -Canvassers. Apply to - - J. B. FORD & CO., - -=27 Park Place, New York=; =11 Bromfield St., Boston, Mass.=; =75 West -Washington St., Chicago, Ill.=; =339 Kearney St., San Francisco, Cal.= - - THE - - CHRISTIAN UNION - - IS AN UNSECTARIAN RELIGIOUS WEEKLY. - - HENRY WARD BEECHER, - - Editor. - - -This journal has had a very remarkable success, _in two years_ -attaining a circulation surpassing that of any other religious weekly -in the world. - - -WHY IS IT? - - =Because=, _First_, HENRY WARD BEECHER is its Editor, and - his Editorials, Star Papers, and occasional Literary Reviews - and _Lecture-Room Talks_ are sought for by thousands, while - the auxiliary editorial labor is in the hands of cultivated - journalists; _the CONTRIBUTORS being representative men and - women of ALL Denominations_. - - =Because=, _Secondly_, ITS FORM, twenty-four pages, large - quarto, SECURELY PASTED AT THE BACK AND CUT AT THE EDGES, is so - convenient for reading, binding, and preservation, as to be a - great and special merit in its favor. - - =Because=, _Thirdly_, _It is called “the most Interesting - Religious Paper published_,” being quoted from by the press - of the entire country more extensively than any other. The - critical _Nation_ (N. Y.) says it is “Not only the ablest and - best, but also, as we suppose, the most popular of American - religious periodicals. At all events it is safe to predict that - it will soon have, if it has not already, greater influence - than any other religious paper in the country.” - - =Because=, _Fourthly_, _It has something for every Member of - the Household_: admirable contributed and editorial articles, - discussing all timely topics, fresh information on unhackneyed - subjects; reliable news of the Church and the world; Market - and Financial Reports; an Agricultural Department; excerpts - of Public Opinion from the press; careful Book Reviews, with - Educational, Literary, Musical, and Art Notes; much matter of - a high and pure religious tone; a Household Department; choice - Poems; Household Stories; and Chat for the Little Ones. - - =Because=, _Fifthly_, Every subscriber is presented with - -TWO SUPERB OIL CHROMOS, - -“WIDE AWAKE” AND “FAST ASLEEP,” - -_A pair_,--no cheap colored prints, but splendid copies of Oil -Paintings, by an eminent English artist. The selling price of the pair -is (=$10=) _Ten Dollars_, at which price thousands have been sold in -America, and still are selling and will be sold by the picture trade -generally. - -Or, if any should prefer it, the subscriber will be presented with our -new, large, and - - -EXQUISITE OLEOGRAPH, - -from a charming painting by LOBRICHON (one of the most brilliant -artists of the Parisian school), entitled - -“LITTLE RUNAWAY AND HER PETS.” - -The size (14½ × 21½ inches) makes it a very large picture, and it is an -admirable and artistic centre-piece for “Wide Awake” and “Fast Asleep,” -or a most delicate, attractive, and beautiful work of art in itself. - - -TERMS. - - One Year’s Subscription (including _unmounted_ Pictures) $3.00 - - Do. do. (including Pictures _mounted_; the - Chromos on card board, or the Oleograph - on canvas, sized, varnished, and ready - for framing) 3.25 - - Two do. do. (including all the Pictures, sized, varnished, - etc.) 5.75 - - THE CHRISTIAN UNION and PLYMOUTH PULPIT mailed - for one year to one address (including Chromos as above) - for $5.00 or 5.25 - -☞ In all cases, _ten cents extra_ must be sent to defray the cost of -wrapping and mailing the pictures to the subscriber’s address. ☜ - - -☞ Canvassers allowed liberal Commissions. - -An old agent who knows says: “I have never presented anything for sale -that met with the approval of the entire reading community as nearly as -does HENRY WARD BEECHER’S CHRISTIAN UNION. Sorry I did not work for it -sooner. Think it _the best business for canvassers ever offered by any -firm_, to my knowledge.” - - J. B. FORD & CO., Publishers, - =27 Park Place, New York City=. - -=BRANCH OFFICES=: Boston, 11 Bromfield Street; Chicago, 75 West -Washington Street; San Francisco, 339 Kearney Street. - - -PLYMOUTH PULPIT - -Is a weekly pamphlet Publication of Sermons preached by - -HENRY WARD BEECHER, - -Printed from MR. T. J. ELLINWOOD’S careful, verbatim phonographic -reports, taken down from the speaker’s lips. This issue is the -only regularly authorized edition of them, the one endorsed by MR. -BEECHER’S approval as correct, and sanctioned by his authority. It -is well printed on good paper, in book form; it is _suitable for -binding and preservation_, and it is _cheap_, within the reach of -all. The publishers have also responded to the demand for a continued -insertion of the Prayers before and after the Sermon, as among the -most spiritually profitable of MR. BEECHER’S ministrations. Besides -this, the Scriptural lesson and hymns sung (Plymouth Collection) are -indicated, thus making a complete record of one service of Plymouth -Church for each Sunday. - - -CRITICAL OPINIONS. - - -BRITISH. - -“They are magnificent discourses. I have often taken occasion to -say that Beecher is the greatest preacher that ever appeared in the -world; this judgment is most soberly considered and most deliberately -pronounced; his brilliant fancy, his deep knowledge of human nature, -his affluent language, and the many-sidedness of his noble mind, -conspire to place him at the head of all Christian speakers.”--REV. DR. -PARKER, in _The Pulpit Analyst_ (_Article_ “AD CLERUM”). - -“These corrected Sermons of perhaps the greatest of living -preachers,--a man whose heart is as warm and catholic as his -abilities are great, and whose Sermons combine fidelity to Scriptural -truth, great power, glorious imagination, fervid rhetoric, and -vigorous reasoning, with intense human sympathy and robust common -sense.”--_British Quarterly Review._ - -“They are without equal among the published sermons of the day. -Everywhere we find ourselves in the hands of a man of high and noble -impulses, of thorough fearlessness, of broad and generous sympathies, -who has consecrated all his wealth of intelligence and heart to the -service of preaching the Gospel.”--_Literary World_, London. - - -AMERICAN. - -“We certainly find in these sermons a great deal which we can -conscientiously commend, and that amply justifies the exalted position -which their author holds among American preachers. They are worthy -of great praise for the freshness, vigor, and earnestness of their -style; for the beauty and oftentimes surprising aptness of their -illustrations; for the large amount of consolatory and stimulating -thought embodied in them, and for the force and skill with which -religious considerations are made to bear upon the most common -transactions of life.”--_Bibliotheca Sacra_, Andover, Mass. - -“In point of ability and eloquence he has scarcely a rival, while in -the magnetism that arises from earnestness and deep, broad, humanity, -he is absolutely unrivalled. No preacher of the present age exercises -so wide and potent an influence. And he reaches a class that ordinary -preachers fail to touch.”--_Philadelphia Inquirer._ - -Mr. Beecher “by his genius, and without any direct effort, has more -influence upon the ministerial profession than all the theological -seminaries combined. The discourses are rich in all that makes -religious literature valuable.”--_Chicago Evening Journal._ - - -Vol. I., No. 1, of PLYMOUTH PULPIT was issued September 26, 1868. Each -_Volume_ contains twenty-six numbers, being one sermon each week for -six months. This gives annually two volumes of _nearly five hundred_ -pages each. - - -=TERMS.=--Single numbers, ten cents. Yearly Subscription price, -=$3.00=. Half yearly, =$1.75=. Subscriptions may begin with any number. -Back numbers supplied. - -=CLUB RATES=--five copies for =$12.00=. - -THE CHRISTIAN UNION, together with the two charming French Oil Chromos, -“WIDE AWAKE” and “FAST ASLEEP,” (=$3.00=), and PLYMOUTH PULPIT -(=$3.00=), will be sent to ONE ADDRESS for =$5.00=. - -POSTAGE ON PLYMOUTH PULPIT to subscribers in the United States is -twenty cents per year, payable quarterly in advance, at the Post-Office -to which the pamphlet is sent; and on single copies to England it is -_four cents_. - - J. B. FORD & CO., Publishers, - =27 Park Place, New York=. - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - -Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations -in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other -spelling and punctuation remains unchanged. - -Italics are represented thus _italic_, bold is represented thus =bold=. - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTHERLY TALKS WITH YOUNG -HOUSEKEEPERS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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W. Beecher—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> - <style> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} -.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} - -hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.5%;} -hr.r65 {width: 65%; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} -table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } -table.autotable td, -table.autotable th { padding: 4px; } - -.tdl {text-align: left;} -.tdr {text-align: right;} -.tdc {text-align: center;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: small; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; - text-indent: 0; -} /* page numbers */ - - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} - - -/* Images */ - -img { - max-width: 100%; - height: auto; -} -img.w100 {width: 100%;} - - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - - -/* Poetry */ -/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ -/* .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} */ -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:small; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; -} - - -/* indent paragraphs by default */ -p { text-indent: 1.5em;} - -.noindent {text-indent: 0em} - -.center {text-align: center; - text-indent: 0;} - -.hang { padding-left:1.5em; text-indent:-1.5em; } - - -.front {text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; - max-width: 40em; - margin: auto;} - -x-ebookmaker table {width: 95%} - - - -/* comment the next line for non-centered poetry in browsers */ -.poetry {display: inline-block;} - -.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block;} - - -/* Drop Caps */ -/* Text-only drop cap */ -.dropcap { - float: left; - padding-right: 0.1em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height: 83% - } - -/* use this to move text closer to dropped cap if necessary */ -/* note ebookmaker cannot handle negative margins */ -.close {margin-left: -0.5em;} -.x-ebookmaker .close {margin-left: 0em;} - - - -/* Fonts */ -.simple {font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; } -.fancy {font-family: Luminari, Impact, fantasy; } - -.xbig {font-size: 2em;} -.big {font-size: 1.2em;} -.small {font-size: 0.8em;} -.xsmall {font-size: 0.5em;} -.triple {font-size: 300%;} - -/* Poetry indents */ -.poetry .indent12 {text-indent: 3em;} -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;} -.poetry .indent4 {text-indent: -1em;} - -/* Illustration classes */ -.illowp25 {width: 25%;} -.illowp65 {width: 65%;} - - - </style> -</head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Motherly talks with young housekeepers, by Mrs. H. W. Beecher</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Motherly talks with young housekeepers</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>embracing eighty-seven brief articles on topics of home interest, and about five hundred choice receipts for cooking, etc.</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Mrs. H. W. Beecher</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 22, 2023 [eBook #69858]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Krista Zaleski and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTHERLY TALKS WITH YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS ***</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</span></p> - - - -<h1> MOTHERLY TALKS<br> - -<span class="xsmall">WITH</span><br> - -YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS:</h1> - -<p class="center p2"> EMBRACING</p> - -<p class="center p2"> EIGHTY-SEVEN BRIEF ARTICLES ON TOPICS OF HOME INTEREST, - AND ABOUT FIVE HUNDRED CHOICE RECEIPTS - FOR COOKING, ETC.</p> - -<p class="center p2 small"> BY</p> - -<p class="center"> MRS. H. W. BEECHER.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp25" id="titlepage" style="max-width: 21em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/titlepage.png" alt=""> -</div> - -<p class="center p2"> NEW YORK:<br> - J. B. FORD AND COMPANY.<br> - 1873.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</span></p> - - - - -<p class="center p6"> Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873,</p> - -<p class="center"> BY J. B. FORD & CO.,</p> - -<p class="center"> in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.</p> - - -<p class="center p6"> <span class="smcap">University Press: Welch, Bigelow, & Co., - Cambridge.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</span></span> -</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">PUBLISHERS’ PREFACE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HIS book, composed of brief and pithy articles, on almost every -conceivable point of household duty, is a friendly monitor for young -wives, and a mine of good sense and information for growing maidens. -Originally published in the Household Department of “The Christian -Union,” the articles have been so frequently called for and inquired -after by those who had found help in them, that the author yielded to -the desires of others, and has gathered them into this little volume.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Beecher’s notion of woman’s sphere is, that, whatever exceptional -women may be able to accomplish, by reason of peculiar circumstances -and talents, and freedom from domestic responsibilities, the place -of labor and achievement for most women, and for all married women -and mothers, is Home. And this book is exactly what its title sets -forth,—a kind and motherly way of helping the inexperienced to make -agreeable, well-regulated, and happy homes. Following the “Talks” are a -choice selection of nearly five hundred Cooking Receipts, all vouched -for by the author’s own experience and skillful testing.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="center"> PART I.<br> - - MOTHERLY TALKS WITH YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS.</p> - -<table class="autotable"> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"></td> -<td class="tdl"></td> -<td class="tdr"> PAGE</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> I.</td> -<td class="tdl"> System in Work</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> II.</td> -<td class="tdl"> March</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> III.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Spring Labor</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> IV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Sunshine and Fresh Air</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> V.</td> -<td class="tdl"> House-cleaning</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> VI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Washing-day</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> VII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Putting Clothes to soak</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Patient Continuance in Well-doing</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> IX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Preparing for the Country</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> X.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Heedlessness</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Washing Flannels</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> June Cares</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Pure Air and thorough Ventilation</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Milk and Butter</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Making Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> A troublesome Question</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Woman’s Kingdom</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> The Kitchen</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> How much is a Wife worth?</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Teach little Boys to be useful</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Bleaching, Starching, and removing Stains</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> To iron Shirts, Vests, and Embroideries</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> A Talk about Beds</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Marketing</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Trust your Children</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Who invented Bread?</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> How about the little Girls?</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Stealing Servants</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Fall Cleaning</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Fashionable Dress</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Lessons by the Wayside</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_126">126</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Pauline Pry</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Buy your Cage before you catch your Bird</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Care in selecting a House</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Visiting for one’s own Convenience</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Will they Board, or keep House?</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Choice of Colors in Dress</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Harmonizing Colors in Dress</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XXXIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> A Word about Moths</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XL.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Winter Butter</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Repairs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Accurate Weights and Measures in Cooking</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Teaching little Girls to sew</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> The Care of Poultry</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Institutions for the Education of Women</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Great Mistakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Study to make Home attractive</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> The Care of Cooking-Stoves and Ranges</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> XLIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> The Old Ways and the New</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> L.</td> -<td class="tdl"> A few Hints on Carving</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Parental Example</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> True Taste more effective than Money</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Cooking by Steam</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Vegetables</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Cabbage</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Pulse</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Pot-herbs and Salads</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Mistakes in cooking Vegetables</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Divided Family Government</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> How can we secure good Servants?</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> The Guest-Chamber</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> The Care of Infants</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_255">255</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Personal Neatness</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Are House-Plants injurious to the Health?</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Bad Butter</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_271">271</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> October</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> The Slavery of Fashion</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Pickling and Preserving</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> What has become of all the little Girls?</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Procrastination</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> The surest Remedy</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> A few little Things</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Planning for the Week</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Shopping</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Dusting</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_320">320</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> A Chapter on Soups</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_323">323</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> More about Soups</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_328">328</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Testing Character</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_333">333</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> If we knew!</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_337">337</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXX.</td> -<td class="tdl"> In such an Hour as ye think not</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_342">342</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Grumbling</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_346">346</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Little Foxes spoiling the beloved Vine</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_351">351</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Waste not—want not</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_356">356</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXXIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Making Cake and Pastry</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_360">360</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXXV.</td> -<td class="tdl"> As thy Day so shall thy Strength be</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_366">366</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"> What we know not now we shall know hereafter</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_370">370</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> LXXXVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"> Until Death do us part</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_375">375</a></td> -</tr> -</table> -<hr class="r5"> -<p class="center"> PART II.<br> - - CHOICE FAMILY RECEIPTS.</p> - - -<table class="autotable"> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> YEAST.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Yeast</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_385">385</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_385">385</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Yeast-Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_385">385</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> BREAD.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> General Rules</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_386">386</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Bread without Sponging</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_386">386</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Good Bread</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_386">386</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Bread with Sponging</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_387">387</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To make Bread from Flour that runs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_387">387</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Bread by Scalding the Flour</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_388">388</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To make Stale Bread fresh</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_388">388</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Graham Bread</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_388">388</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Steamed Brown Bread</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_389">389</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Corn Bread</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_389">389</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rice Bread</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_390">390</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> BISCUIT.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Morning Biscuit</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_390">390</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Tea Biscuit</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_390">390</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Soda Biscuit</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_391">391</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Indian-Corn Biscuit</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_391">391</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Parker House Rolls</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_391">391</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rusk</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_392">392</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sweet Potato Buns</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_392">392</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Potato Pone</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_392">392</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Gems</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_392">392</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Gems, No. 2</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_392">392</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Graham Gems</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_393">393</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> BREAKFAST AND TEA CAKES.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Corn Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_393">393</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_393">393</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_393">393</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_393">393</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Steamed Johnny-Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Corn-Meal Cake with Apples and Suet</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Muffins</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cream Muffins</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Raised Muffins</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_395">395</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Hominy Muffins</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_395">395</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Quick Muffins</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_395">395</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Graham Flour Muffins</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_395">395</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Raised Waffles</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_395">395</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Corn-Meal Waffles</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_396">396</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Buckwheat Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_396">396</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rice Griddle-Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_396">396</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sour-Milk Griddle-Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_396">396</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Green-Corn Fritters</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_396">396</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mock Oyster Fritters</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_397">397</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Corn Oysters</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_397">397</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rice Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_397">397</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rice or Hominy Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_397">397</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rosie’s Sally Lunn</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_397">397</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Strawberry Shortcake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_397">397</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cream Toast</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_398">398</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> SOUPS.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> General Directions</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_398">398</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Stock for Soups</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_399">399</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Tomato Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_399">399</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_400">400</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A Vegetable Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_400">400</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mock-Turtle Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_400">400</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Bean Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_401">401</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Soup with Eggs</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_402">402</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Green Pea Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_402">402</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Turtle Bean Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_402">402</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Nursery Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_403">403</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Oyster and Clam Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_403">403</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Potato Soup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_403">403</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> FISH.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Boil Fresh Fish</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_404">404</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Baked Salmon Trout, with Cream Gravy</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_404">404</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Boiled Salmon Trout</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_404">404</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fried Halibut</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_405">405</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fish Chowder</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_405">405</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To prepare and dress Cold Fish</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_405">405</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Newport Fish Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_406">406</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fish-Balls</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_406">406</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Codfish Balls</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_407">407</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Scalloped Crabs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_407">407</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Oyster Pie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_407">407</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Oyster Fritters</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_408">408</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Fry Oysters</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_408">408</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Lobster Patties</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_408">408</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Lobster Rissoles</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_409">409</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fish Sauce</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_409">409</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A good Breakfast Dish</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_409">409</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Best Mode of Roasting Fish, Ducks, &c.</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_409">409</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> MEATS.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> <span class="small">BEEF.</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Leicestershire Hunting Beef</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_410">410</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Spiced Beef</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_410">410</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Curried Beef</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_411">411</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Meat Pie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_411">411</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Beef Collops</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_411">411</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Cook a Beefsteak</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_412">412</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rump Steak, with Oyster Sauce</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_412">412</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A French Broil</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_412">412</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Beefsteak Rolls</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_413">413</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Beef Croquettes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_413">413</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mock Duck</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_413">413</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A Nice Breakfast Dish</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_413">413</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mock Venison</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_413">413</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To prepare Cold Roast Beef or Mutton</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_414">414</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Economical Breakfast Dish</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_414">414</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A “Two Story”</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_415">415</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> <span class="small">MUTTON AND LAMB.</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Shoulder of Mutton Boiled</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_415">415</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Shoulder of Mutton Spiced</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_415">415</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mutton Stew</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_416">416</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Roasting a Leg of Lamb</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_416">416</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To use Cold Lamb</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_416">416</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mint Sauce</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_416">416</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> VENISON.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Jerked Venison</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_417">417</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Venison Steaks</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_418">418</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"><span class="small"> COOKING IN A “RUMFORD BOILER.”</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Roast Beef or Mutton</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_418">418</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Boil a Leg of Lamb or Mutton</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_418">418</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Corned Beef</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_418">418</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Cook a Ham</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_419">419</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fish</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_419">419</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> <span class="small">VEAL.</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Meats for June</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_420">420</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Calf’s Head and Harslet</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_420">420</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Head and Harslet Hash</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_420">420</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Veal Pie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_421">421</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sweetbread Croquettes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_421">421</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Veal Patty</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_422">422</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Minced Veal</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_422">422</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Veal Hash</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_422">422</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Veal Loaf</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_423">423</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Croquettes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_423">423</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"><span class="small"> POULTRY AND GAME.</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Steamed Turkey</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_423">423</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Broiled Chickens</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_424">424</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Bake a Chicken</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_425">425</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Gravy for Roast or Baked Poultry</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_426">426</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Chicken Pot-Pie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_426">426</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fried Chickens</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_427">427</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Cook an Old Fowl</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_427">427</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Roast Duck</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_428">428</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Roast a Goose</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_428">428</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Wild Goose</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_429">429</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Roast a Green Goose</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_429">429</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Boil a Goose</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_429">429</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Stew a Goose</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_430">430</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Stew Pigeons</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_430">430</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Wild Squabs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_431">431</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Chicken Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_431">431</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Chicken Jelly</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_432">432</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Chicken Patties</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_432">432</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To make Remnants of Meat, Chicken, etc., palatable</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_432">432</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Meat Croquettes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_433">433</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"><span class="small"> PORK AND HAM.</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Boil a Ham</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_433">433</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Broiled Ham</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_433">433</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Ham Croquettes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_433">433</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Ham and Toast</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_433">433</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Ham Toast</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_434">434</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To use Cold Boiled Ham</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_434">434</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_434">434</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Ham Ball</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_434">434</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> How a Pig was Roasted on a Sugar Plantation</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_434">434</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Good Sausage Meat</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_435">435</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A Dutch Dish</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_435">435</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> SALADS AND OMELETS.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Chicken Salad</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_436">436</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Italian Chicken Salad</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_436">436</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Lobster Salad</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_437">437</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Potato Salad</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_437">437</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Plain Omelet</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_437">437</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Puff Omelet</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_438">438</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Oyster Omelet</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_438">438</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Omelet with Jelly</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_438">438</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Baked Omelet</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_438">438</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Omelette Soufflé</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_439">439</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl" colspan="2"> EGGS.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Boiled Eggs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_439">439</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fried Eggs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_439">439</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Poached Eggs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_439">439</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Hard Scrabbled</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_440">440</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fricasseed Eggs, or Egg Baskets</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_440">440</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Egg Toast</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_440">440</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Scrambled Eggs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_441">441</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Scrambled Eggs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_441">441</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Dropped Eggs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_441">441</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cottage Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_441">441</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cheese Toast</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_442">442</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> VEGETABLES.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Corn</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_443">443</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_444">444</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Boiling Potatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_444">444</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_444">444</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Boil New Potatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_445">445</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mashed Potatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_445">445</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Potato Croquettes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_445">445</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Saratoga Fried Potatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_445">445</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Scalloped Potatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_445">445</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Snow Potatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_446">446</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Potato Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_446">446</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Fry Sweet Potatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_446">446</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Macaroni</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_446">446</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Egg-Plant</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_447">447</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_447">447</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fricasseed Egg-Plant</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_447">447</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Stew Tomatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_448">448</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Baked Tomatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_448">448</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Scalloped Tomatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_448">448</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Boiled Rice</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_449">449</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cooking Rice</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_449">449</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Peas</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_449">449</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Green Peas</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_450">450</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Beans</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_450">450</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Asparagus</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_451">451</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Spinach</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_451">451</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Boil Cabbage</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_451">451</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Boil Cabbage with Meat</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_452">452</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_452">452</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cabbage like Cauliflower</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_452">452</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cauliflower</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_452">452</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Hot-Slaw</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_452">452</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cold-Slaw</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_453">453</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Cook Onions</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_453">453</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> CAKE.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> <span class="small">GENERAL RULES.</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Loaf Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_454">454</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mrs. Breedley’s Fruit Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_455">455</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rosie’s Raised Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_455">455</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fruit Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_455">455</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Farmer’s Fruit Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_455">455</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Whortleberry Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_456">456</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Olic Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_456">456</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Nice little Cakes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_456">456</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Queen Charlotte’s Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_456">456</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Lemon Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_456">456</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Molasses Drop Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_457">457</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Chicago Fruit Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_457">457</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cider Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_457">457</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Snow-flake Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_457">457</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cocoa-nut Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_457">457</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Macaroons</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_457">457</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Delicate Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_458">458</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sponge Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_458">458</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Pineapple Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_458">458</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Molasses Cup Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_458">458</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Loaf Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_458">458</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Walnut Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_459">459</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Loaf Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_459">459</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Western Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_459">459</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Snowball Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_459">459</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Molasses Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_459">459</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Corn-Starch Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_459">459</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Moss Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_459">459</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Jenny Lind Cake</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_460">460</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sugar Cookies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_460">460</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cookies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_460">460</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Another Way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_460">460</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Molasses Gingerbread</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_460">460</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Plain Gingerbread</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_460">460</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Excellent Ginger-Snaps</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_461">461</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> PIES, PUDDINGS, AND DESSERTS.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Pastry</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_461">461</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Puff Paste</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_461">461</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Potato Pastry for Meat Pies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_462">462</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Pumpkin Pies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_462">462</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Dried-Apple Pies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_462">462</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Pies of Canned Fruit</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_463">463</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mince Pie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_463">463</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rice Pie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_464">464</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Apple Puffs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_464">464</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Marlborough Pie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_464">464</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Chess Pie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_464">464</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> English Christmas Plum Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_464">464</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A Family Christmas Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_465">465</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A Simple Christmas Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_465">465</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Bread Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_466">466</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Boiled Indian Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_466">466</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Baked Indian Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_466">466</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Palmyra, or Date Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_466">466</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sponge-Cake Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_467">467</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Steamed Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_467">467</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> An Excellent Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_467">467</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Apple and Tapioca Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_467">467</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sweet-Apple Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_468">468</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fig Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_468">468</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Barley Cream for Invalids</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_468">468</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Apple Float</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_468">468</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sago Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_468">468</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cocoa-nut Custard</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_468">468</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Apple Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_468">468</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sauce</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_469">469</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Nice Cheap Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_469">469</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Orange Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_469">469</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Custard without Eggs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_469">469</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A Quick Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_469">469</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rice Meringue</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_470">470</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sago Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_470">470</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Lemon or Orange Honeycomb</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_470">470</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Apple Snow</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_470">470</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Snow Pudding</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_470">470</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cocoa-nut Pudding or Pies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_471">471</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Bohemian Cream</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_471">471</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Spanish Cream</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_471">471</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Rennet Wine</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_472">472</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cold Custard</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_472">472</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Baked Apples</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_472">472</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Apple Snow</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_472">472</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> PRESERVES AND JELLIES.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Can Peaches</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_472">472</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Mixed Marmalade</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_473">473</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Jellies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_473">473</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Peach Jelly</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_474">474</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Quince Jelly</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_474">474</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Preserve Quinces</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_474">474</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Candied Orange Peel</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_475">475</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Apple and Quince Sauce</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_475">475</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Apple Sauce</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_475">475</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Baked Pears</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_476">476</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> CHEESE.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Stilton Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_476">476</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cottenham Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_476">476</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Parmesan</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_476">476</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cheddar</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_477">477</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Dunlop</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_477">477</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> New Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_477">477</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Swiss Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_477">477</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Sage or Green Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_477">477</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cream Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_477">477</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Potato Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_478">478</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cheese Straus</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_478">478</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> PICKLES.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Peach Pickles</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_478">478</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Pickled Plums</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_480">480</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Green Tomato Pickles</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_480">480</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Pickle Green Tomatoes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_481">481</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Pickled Nasturtiums</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_481">481</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Pickled Cauliflower</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_481">481</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Tomato Pickles</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_482">482</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Pickle Onions</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_482">482</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Pickle Red Cabbage</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_482">482</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Cucumber Pickles</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_482">482</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Pickle small Cucumbers and Gherkins</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_483">483</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Tomato Catsup</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_483">483</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> MISCELLANEOUS HINTS.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To make Tea</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_484">484</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Substitute for Milk in Tea and Coffee</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_485">485</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Bread Crumbs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_485">485</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> GLEANINGS.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Clean Kid Gloves</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_486">486</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To keep Grapes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_486">486</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Clean Oil-Cloths</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_486">486</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fill your Lamps in the Morning</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_486">486</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Colored Silk</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_487">487</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Remove Fruit Stains</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_487">487</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Bee or Wasp Stings</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_487">487</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To Preserve Brooms</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_487">487</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Glossy Starch</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_488">488</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Salt with Nuts</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_488">488</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To take Ink Stains from Mahogany</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_488">488</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To keep Quinces</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_488">488</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Fruit Stains</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_488">488</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Ink Stains</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_489">489</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Buying Furs</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_489">489</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Drying Umbrellas</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_490">490</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> A Tight Ring</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_490">490</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Scrubbing White Paint</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_490">490</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> How to wash Graining</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_490">490</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To keep Codfish</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_491">491</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Zante Currants</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_491">491</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To keep Cheese</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_491">491</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To keep Smoked Beef and Hams</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_491">491</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To keep Preserves</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_491">491</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Care of Flour-Barrels</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_491">491</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Indian Meal</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_491">491</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Coffee and Tea</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_492">492</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Raisins and Starch</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_492">492</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Household Weights and Measures</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_492">492</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> To test Flour</td> -<td class="tdr"> <a href="#Page_492">492</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="INTRO">INTRODUCTION. -</h2> -</div> -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">F</span>OR the last two years we have occupied a corner in “The Christian -Union” with the following brief articles, and from week to week -endeavored to bring to its readers something useful and practical. We -have reviewed the daily labors indispensable to all classes of homes, -giving whatever suggestions or criticisms seemed to us most needed or -desirable, not only as regards the manual labor of a household, but -also the actions, motives, and principles which build up and secure the -happiness of a family; or which, falsely understood and neglected, must -lay the foundation for misery and sin.</p> - -<p>We have been requested by many of our readers to gather these -<i>talks</i> together, for the more convenient use of those for whom -they were written, namely, <i>young housekeepers</i>, who, marrying -before their domestic education has received sufficient attention, -daily find many stumbling-blocks in their way, which haply a word fitly -spoken might remove.</p> - -<p>Where so much has been written in the way of “Advice to Young -Housekeepers,” “Household Guides,” etc.,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</span> it would seem superfluous -to venture on this well-worn track, did it not lead to a portion of -general education too little thought of, where “line upon line and -precept upon precept” are peculiarly needed.</p> - -<p>The home education of our girls is often sadly neglected. Indulgent -mothers, who have kept their daughters in school from earliest -childhood, think it would be cruel to ask that any part of their -vacation should be usefully employed. It must all be given to -relaxation and amusement, leaving the knowledge of the homely household -duties which would enable them to superintend and adorn a happy home -to be learned after they have been “graduated.” Yet how many young -girls pass from the seminary at once into married life, and on their -first entrance into society are transformed from simple school-girls -into wives and housekeepers! If no part of their child-life was devoted -to those lessons, which none should be able to teach so kindly and so -thoroughly as a mother, what is the result? The <i>home</i> which the -lover dreamed of, proves dark and comfortless, and the bride is too -often transformed into the heartless devotee of fashion, instead of the -companion and helpmeet God designed a wife to be.</p> - -<p>Young ladies would soon discover the richer life there is in one’s own -home, if they were early initiated into an intimate knowledge of the -whole routine of home duties and household mysteries, so that when -they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xix">[Pg xix]</span> shall be exalted to the dignity of the mistress of a house, they -can with good judgment and intelligence direct their servants, or -independently perform the labor of a family, easily and methodically, -with their own hands. With such knowledge, and the ability to execute, -they can greatly augment domestic happiness and add new lustre to their -charms as companion and friend.</p> - -<p>True, there is much that is hard and disagreeable in household cares -and labors; but what good thing do we possess that does not require -thought, effort, and often unpleasant labor before we come into the -full possession and enjoyment of it? Under any self-denial or hardship -experienced in the performance of duty, there is a great comfort in -the knowledge that, the work being once mastered and made familiar, -any thought of drudgery connected with it disappears; and in the happy -consciousness of independence and power over difficulties one finds -great pleasure and full compensation.</p> - -<p>In preparing these articles for book publication, we have not attempted -to bring them together in a methodical manner, but have allowed them to -follow one another in about the order in which we were moved to write -them by the daily occurrences around us, or in reply to many letters -from discouraged or <i>ready-to-halt</i> young housekeepers. Nor have -we presumed to give advice or instructions to old, well-established -mothers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</span> and housekeepers, who doubtless know far more than we do, -and at whose feet we would cheerfully sit for instruction. But like a -mother in the midst of her young daughters we have desired to stand, -answering such questions as they would naturally ask, pointing out -mistakes that they are likely to make, showing where the error lies, -and trying to offer a remedy; not in household affairs alone, but in -many phases of the duties that belong to the wife and mother as well as -to the housekeeper. To give some little assistance and encouragement in -every effort to make <i>home</i> what it should be,—the happiest place -on earth,—is our earnest desire.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span>EUNICE W. BEECHER.<br> -</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="PART_I">PART I.<br> - -MOTHERLY TALKS WITH YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS.</h2> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="I">I.<br> -SYSTEM IN WORK.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“I</span> HAVE been hard at work all day,” we think we hear some say; “up -stairs and down, from the cellar to the attic, looking into every -nook and corner, and ‘putting things to rights’ generally. O dear! I -<i>wonder what next</i> those grim old housekeepers would expect me to -take hold of. I have everything in good running order, as far as I can -see, and now how I would like to take a book and curl up somewhere, out -of sight and hearing, and have one of the old-fashioned good times I -used to have before I was married. Well, I don’t care. I mean to have -it, anyhow, and just let things go on without my watching, for a while. -Nora can manage to keep the house in order, <i>somehow</i>, now I have -everything in its right place, I am sure.”</p> - -<p>Ah! but, my dear little woman, if you do not give daily attention to -your household affairs, in a few days, under Nora’s rule, you will find -the machinery all out of order, and be compelled again to go over the -same wearisome labor you now complain of.</p> - -<p>“What then am I to do? From this time on, is my life to be a perpetual -drudgery?”</p> - -<p>No; not if you are wise. Be patient. It is a new thing to you now. Care -does not sit lightly on young shoulders;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span> but time and a reasonable -amount of patience will soon make the “crooked ways straight, and the -rough places smooth.” A few weeks of extra time and thought, at the -beginning of your new life, will teach you how to work methodically. -Until this lesson is fixed in your mind, it will be “uphill work”; but -persevere. Have a regular plan for each day’s work, and every step will -be easier and more natural.</p> - -<p>There is nothing like method and regularity to lighten labor. We have -so many poor, discouraged, repining housekeepers, chiefly because they -were not taught from the beginning to work methodically. Let this once -become a fixed habit, and almost every one can find leisure for reading -and recreation, certainly if in a position where they can delegate the -hardest, roughest labor, under suitable supervision, to a servant.</p> - -<p>Secure a few moments every evening to think over and arrange for -the necessary labor of the morrow. Bring before your mind just what -ought to be done, and fix the mode and time for doing it distinctly. -While dressing, the next morning, review your plan, that all through -the day it may be like a map spread out before your eyes. Of course, -many things may occur that no foresight could provide for,—sickness, -unexpected company, or interruptions past your control,—but nothing -that can wholly derange a well-digested plan for every day’s duties.</p> - -<p>Try this mode of working resolutely for a few months, and labor or -oversight of labor will become so nearly a second nature that you will -arrange, or perform almost instinctively, even with pleasure, that -which now seems a heavy burden, grievous to be borne. To show just what -may be done, let us take a glance at the arrangements for washing and -ironing days.</p> - -<p>Every housekeeper has her own way of apportioning the work of her -servants. Where there are three girls, many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span> prefer that the cook -should take charge of the washing, leaving either waiter or chambermaid -to do the cooking Mondays and Tuesdays. If these are tolerable plain -cooks, this may answer; but, generally, on those two days the table is -less pleasantly served than during the remainder of the week.</p> - -<p>Now, we prefer to feel as sure of a well-cooked and well-served dinner -on “washing-day” as on any other day in the week. For that reason, we -think it a more excellent way to have the cook understand that the -kitchen, pantries, and cooking are her own especial care; from which, -until that work is done, she is not to be called to assist in anything -else. This plan, we think, insures a more orderly kitchen, cleaner -pantries, and better prepared and more regular meals, than when the -cooking is given over, two days in the week, to one less accustomed to -it. We see no good reason why, if company happens in unexpectedly, one -should not be as well prepared to serve them on Monday as on Wednesday -or Thursday. By giving the washing into the care of the second girl, we -think one may escape most of the terrors of “washing-day.”</p> - -<p>Early rising should be one of the well-understood rules of the house, -for the servants at least. As soon as up, on Monday morning, the -laundress’s first work is to light the fire, if the laundry is separate -from the kitchen; if not, the cook, of course, attends to that. The -furnace is then to be well shaken and cleaned out, fresh coal added, -and the ashes sifted and removed; which, if done every day, as it -should be, is but a small item comparatively. Sweeping the front -stairs, hall, doorsteps, sidewalk, and gutters comes next in order. -By this time the fire and water will be in a proper state to commence -washing; and that once begun, the laundress should be exempt from any -other duty, save to feed the furnace, until the washing is finished and -the clothes brought in and folded.</p> - -<p>On Tuesday the same routine, while the fire is kindling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span> and the irons -heating; after that the laundress gives her undivided attention to her -ironing. She should be up in season to finish sweeping stairs, hall, -etc., and commence her washing and ironing by seven; and then, unless -the washing is very large, an ordinarily bright girl should have all -finished by Tuesday night, and be ready to give her full time to the -chamber-work,—making beds, sweeping, dusting, washing windows, etc., -during the remainder of the week.</p> - -<p>The waitress is often expected to take charge of the furnace, but we -cannot think it is desirable. If there is a fire to be lighted in the -parlor or sitting-room, to remove the ashes, wash the hearth, and have -the rooms dusted and in readiness for the family, and then put her -table in order, is all that she will be likely to do well. Besides, -after working in the cellar over the furnace, she cannot be fit to wait -on the table without taking more time to free her hair and dress from -ashes and dirt than she can spare, if you would have the breakfast -served promptly. And what is more disgusting than an untidy waitress? -The waitress should have charge of parlor, dining-room, silver, -answering the bell, and on Monday and Tuesday do the chamber-work.</p> - -<p>Where but two servants are kept,—and we are inclined to think the -fewer servants the better the work is done,—of course the two must -divide the work, each assisting in the washing and ironing, but the -cook still retaining the charge of the meals.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="II">II.<br> -MARCH.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE morning sun shines brightly, the air is mild and balmy; you go -about your early cares with a cheerful spirit; and, after seeing -that the “pickings up,” the brushing and dusting, which are a daily -necessity, are faithfully performed, you sit down to your sewing, your -books, or your writing in a satisfied and comfortable state of mind. -But in a few hours the sky grows dark; grim and threatening clouds -obscure the sun; the wind sweeps round the house with long, wailing -moans, or short, fierce gusts, while you shiveringly draw the warm -breakfast shawl closer about you, and find that you have suddenly -passed into a far less genial atmosphere than you enjoyed in the -morning.</p> - -<p>March may come in a very mild and gentle manner, but don’t trust it. -It is “fooling you.” Its smiles are quickly followed by frowns, and -the bright, warm sunlight all too soon will be forced to give place -to fierce winds and drifting snows. We are quite as well pleased -when this, the first month of spring, appears in its own proper -character,—windy, stormy, and bitter cold,—for then we hope that it -will make its exit in a gentler mood.</p> - -<p>Yes, this is truly <i>March</i>,—cold, raw, and blustering -March,—which, with the early days of April, before the winds have -fairly died out, is the terror of all careful housekeepers,—insuring -an abundance of extra work; for its winds and storms will force an -entrance into every part of the house, however securely guarded. No -burglar’s alarm can promise safety from this insidious foe. Windows, -pictures, and furniture, so nicely cleaned and polished but a few hours -since, require<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span> a repetition of the same work many times a day. No -month in the whole year demands such incessant use of dusters, brushes, -and brooms,—such unslumbering watchfulness.</p> - -<p>Why not clean once a day and then let the dust be till next morning?</p> - -<p>Because, if allowed to remain, it soils your hands and dresses, spoils -your pictures, finds lodgment in your finely carved statuary, or -settles in the graceful designs or rich upholstery of your furniture. -Once snugly secreted in woollen or plush, dust is not easily removed, -but becomes the favorite resort for moths, affording abundant material -for all their wants. There is no month in the whole year which so -completely makes you the slave of the broom and dusting-brush. If -there is a carpenter ingenious enough to build a house so tight that -it can defy the searching winds of March, he would most certainly be a -universal favorite among all housekeepers. Under the doors, from the -top, bottom, and sides of the windows, in at the key-holes,—everywhere -the dust finds an entrance. No table, chair, or shelf may be touched -without showing the presence of this subtle enemy. Each book, picture, -or article of dress acknowledges its power. Was it not in the month of -March that the <i>plague of dust</i> tormented the Egyptians? Unless -some learned interpreter of the Bible can prove the contrary, we are -inclined to accept this idea. There is no other season of the year when -one feels so little courage, for we cannot “rest from our labors.” -However faithfully the work may be done, an hour will destroy all trace -of our industry. Then why attempt to do it? Why not let all cleaning -cease till March gives place to its betters, and then have a general -purification?</p> - -<p>If there were no other reason for patient continuance in well-doing, -notwithstanding all discouragements, the injury done to carpets and -furniture would be a good and sufficient one. With the strong March -winds the dust is so thoroughly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span> sifted into the threads of carpets, -and into the moldings and ornaments of furniture, that if not very -often removed, it would be almost impossible ever to do it. The sharp -grains of dust would sink into the carpets, and the friction of walking -over them would wear out the material more in this month than in any -two months of the year. Heavy brocatelle curtains and delicate lace are -very easily defaced and injured by the dust, if not often shaken and -freed from the constant accumulation.</p> - -<p>It cannot be helped; through all this windy, unmanageable season, -frequent usings of dusters and brushes are inevitable, and, if -thoroughly applied, aside from the economy of it, will greatly lighten -the labor of the spring house-cleaning.</p> - -<p>A good beating with a furniture <i>whip</i> (two or three ratans, -lightly braided or twisted together, and the ends united in a handle, -found at any house-furnishing store) is an excellent thing to dislodge -dust from chairs, sofas, table-covers, mattresses, etc., but the -beating must be followed by the use of the feather-brush over all, and -an old silk handkerchief for polished or highly varnished furniture.</p> - -<p>Windows are very difficult to keep bright and clean at this season of -the year. If there is rain or snow, it is usually followed by high -winds, which dry the streets and very soon cover the damp windows with -a storm of dust,—settling into the molding and around the sash to -such a degree that it will require much time and hard work to remove; -and even while washing them, the dust is still swept over the windows. -It is wise, when windows are so quickly and easily defaced, to wet a -clean, smooth cloth in a little whiskey or alcohol, and cleanse the -glass with it. It removes the dirt much more thoroughly and gives a -better polish to the glass than water can, and evaporates so quickly -that the dust will not so readily adhere. This may be liable to -objections on the ground of economy; but, for three or four weeks it is -much more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> effective, and makes the work so much easier, that we are -inclined to think it is not extravagant. Of course it must be used with -judgment. A little will be sufficient.</p> - -<p>Now, more than any other part of the year, the ashes must be removed -from the cellar, if you have a furnace, faithfully every morning. If -allowed to accumulate, a heavy wind will send them up through the flues -and registers, to settle in the carpets or furniture, and do more -injury than the dust, because the alkali in the ashes will eat the -texture and injure the colors.</p> - -<p>Then, again, it is important that on washing-days some attention should -be paid to the wind. It is a great trial to a methodical housekeeper to -put off the week’s washing for a day or two. It seems to derange all -the work planned for other days, and makes one feel unsettled, as if -everything was sadly out of joint. It is not at all pleasant to consent -to such innovation, but March is a tyrant, and in the end it is better -to submit to its caprices. To see all your clothes on the line at the -mercy of a real March wind, would be worse than to defer the washing -and wait for a milder day. The clothes will be more injured and worn by -one day’s snapping on the line, in a very high wind, than in weeks of -wear; and unless one has a good, roomy attic with windows at each end -to admit free air, it is wise, if not agreeable, to put the clothes in -soak, after washing, in plenty of clear water, and wait for the calm, -or defer the entire washing to that propitious moment.</p> - -<p>Yet a good, brisk March wind, with an unclouded sky, has its -excellences. There is no better time to put blankets, carriage-robes, -and heavy winter garments out to air. If not left out too long, such -heavy articles will not be liable to so much injury, by whipping on the -lines, as cotton and linen, and it is an excellent and effective way to -free these cumbrous garments from dust and moths.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span></p> - -<p>These are only a few of the reasons for the necessity of more -than usual vigilance in this stormy month of March; they are but -<i>hints</i> to call attention to the subject. Your own good sense, -kept awake by the wild wind that is shaking the windows as we write, -and bending the tall masts beyond, will enable you to carry them out -more minutely and practically than we shall attempt at present to do.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="III">III.<br> -SPRING LABOR.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">M</span>OTHS.—The first few days of April are too near kin to March to -warrant any decided steps toward the regular spring house-cleaning; but -it is quite time now that special attention be paid to <i>moths</i> and -their characteristic destructiveness.</p> - -<p>In furnace-heated houses, moths are occasionally found in mid-winter; -but they are only the advance guard of the main army, and do little -harm, save by the annoying reminder of what one has cause to fear in -spring.</p> - -<p>In April they will begin to show themselves very much in earnest, and -are seen too often for your comfort, particularly after the gas or -lamp is lighted. If an expert, you may destroy many, as, attracted by -the bright light which lures them to destruction, they fly around you; -yet enough remain to keep you constantly on the lookout. We know of no -remedy, when moths have once gained entrance to a house, but ceaseless -watchfulness. They often deposit their eggs in the fret-work and open -spaces in cornices, as well as in woollens and furs, and therefore all -such hiding-places should be carefully searched. In high-studded rooms -it is difficult to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> reach these sheltered nooks, and therefore in them -moths too often find a secure retreat. But although difficult, it is -not impossible to dislodge them, even from these high places. A tall -step-ladder, with a little care and some one to steady it at the base, -can easily be mounted, and from this height you readily gain access to -your enemies. If the carving is deep and intricate, take a quill, and -with the feather-end brush out these holes into a dust-pan; follow this -brushing with a wet cloth wrapped round a pointed stick. It takes time, -care, and patience, but is very necessary. In houses that are not often -painted, you will probably find large quantities of dust and lint that -have accumulated and settled, from sweeping, in the cornices. In this -the moths deposit their eggs; and, when hatched, the worm which eats -your garments may be found here, snugly rolled in its thin covering, or -perhaps just ready to fly through your house, depositing its eggs for -the next generation of moths.</p> - -<p>A new house, left for months unoccupied, or an old house long -untenanted, it is said, will surely be overrun with moths. For this we -do not vouch, but are quite inclined to credit it. Our first experience -of the plague of moths was on taking possession of a house, almost new, -that had stood empty some months,—a dearly bought experience, the -debt for which is not fully cancelled after more than fourteen years. -In all the cornice ornaments we found large quantities of the eggs and -worms snugly laid to sleep, till the warm spring sun should rouse them -to begin their mischievous expeditions among our furs, blankets, and -garments. Many were fully developed, and flying about in search of some -choice place to deposit their eggs.</p> - -<p>The spring and summer are their busiest time; and as soon as it is -warm enough to dispense with furs, heavy shawls, and woollen garments, -these should be well shaken and brushed, then hung on the clothes-line -and beaten with the furniture<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> whip, every spot or stain cleansed, and -repairs attended to before being done up and put away for the summer. -Each housekeeper has probably her own theory as to the best way for -packing up such articles as moths injure. Some put pepper, camphor, -cedar-chips, sandal-wood, or moth-powder among the articles to be -stored away, and then sew them up closely in old linen, or cover them -with two or three thicknesses of paper, lapping one over the other, -leaving no holes, and then seal the paper up with mucilage. We prefer -the paper wrappings, but feel a little safer if we sprinkle Poole’s -moth-powder over the articles before sealing.</p> - -<p>We have been told that strips of cloth dipped in kerosene, rolled -up and placed among flannels, furs, etc., which should then be shut -tight in a cedar trunk or close drawer, will surely prevent moths from -injuring them, destroying the eggs or such moth worms as are already in -possession.</p> - -<p>This appears sensible, inasmuch as moths are said to be repelled by any -pungent, disagreeable smell. And surely, if that be so, kerosene would -be most deadly.</p> - -<p>In carpets, moths generally seek the corners and secluded places. -For that reason it is essential that in sweeping, at all seasons of -the year, one should see that great attention is paid to the corners -and edges of carpets. Never attempt to sweep there with a common -broom. You cannot get at the corners. Take a whisk-broom or a round, -pointed brush, such as is used to clean buttoned furniture, called a -<i>furniture button-brush</i>, and with it clean out the corners where -the carpet is turned in. Have close at hand a pointed stick, which, -with a cloth wrapped about it, will enable you to pry into every nook -thoroughly. Every few weeks it is well to draw the tacks in the corners -a little way, and, turning back the carpet on to a thick paper or old -cloth, give the edges a faithful brushing. It is under and near these -corners that moths love to secrete their eggs.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IV">IV.<br> -SUNSHINE AND FRESH AIR.</h2> - -</div> -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">F</span>EW realize how dependent we are on sunshine and fresh air for good -health and pleasant, cheerful homes. When shown into a dark and dismal -parlor,—blinds all closed and heavy curtains dropped to exclude -light,—and creeping forward in search of a seat, fearing, each step, -to stumble over a chair or upset a table loaded with small wares on -exhibition, we always feel suffocated, as if in a vault among dead -men’s bones. And when the servant, after calling her mistress, returns -and opens the shutters just far enough to allow one small ray of “light -divine” to struggle through, what a relief it is! How we long to spring -forward, throw back the curtains, swing the blinds wide open, and -give admittance to the full glory of the free, glad sunbeams. But no! -Health and comfort must be sacrificed rather than expose the costly -carpet and rich curtains. Only so much light as will enable our friend -to recognize us may be allowed to enter, and after a few moments’ -conversation, as cold and spiritless as the room itself, how glorious -seem the clear sky and pure air as we leave the house! We are so -chilled and benumbed by our short tarry in those prison-like parlors, -that it has penetrated to the heart, and we are not quite sure that we -feel any great affection for the friend from whom we have just parted, -until, having walked a few moments, we regain life and freshness by a -full bath in the fresh breezes and invigorating sunshine.</p> - -<p>Strange that any will deprive themselves of blessings so rich, so free, -and health-giving for a mere fancy,—particularly when we find that the -richest and most beautiful fabrics<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> are generally those which will bear -exposure to open windows and pure light.</p> - -<p>That perfect ventilation and abundance of light and sun are -indispensable to a healthy atmosphere all over the house, should be -understood as one of the principles of good housekeeping. Servants -are generally careless in airing the rooms committed to their care. -Bedrooms, dining rooms, kitchen, and pantries are seldom sufficiently -ventilated; and it behooves a housekeeper to maintain a constant -watchfulness against such remissness. As soon as you are dressed, -throw open the window, take off the bedclothes, spread them neatly -across two chairs set in the draught,—taking care that the ends do -not drag on the floor. Raise up the mattress; double it like a bent -bow on the under-bed, or palliasse, that the air may circulate freely -through and around it. Beat up the pillows and bolster, and throw them -across a chair near the open window. Some hang them out of the window. -All right, if you are careful first to brush the sill free from the -dust that will, of course, accumulate there. When ready to leave the -chamber, open the doors through from one room to another, even if some -rooms have not been used; but be careful, in cold weather, to close -the doors leading to the halls, that parlors and halls be not made -uncomfortable by too much draught.</p> - -<p>Children, boys and girls alike, should be instructed never to leave -their bedrooms without at least throwing back the bedclothes and -raising the windows; and guests in a family, one would suppose, will -do this for their own comfort; but it is well that every housekeeper -should be sure that it is done before she goes to the kitchen or -breakfast-room. It is particularly desirable that our children become -accustomed to this kind of care and attention to their sleeping-rooms; -for if the habit is fixed in early youth, when absent from a mother’s -care, in school, college, or business, and compelled to board, whatever -other discomforts they may be subjected to,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span> they can secure for -themselves well-ventilated beds and sleeping-rooms. If, from extra -morning duties or ill health, you are not able to attend to this part -of the chamber-work yourself, then, as soon as the rooms are all -vacated, the chambermaid should go to them at once, taking with her the -chamber pail and cloths, and, first opening the windows and putting -bedclothes and mattresses to air, as above mentioned, should empty all -slops, wash out the washstands and all pertaining to them,—pitchers, -soap-cup, tooth- and nail-brush holders,—gather up all dirty clothes -and towels, and put them into the basket, or, if wet, hang up to dry. -By the time this is faithfully done, the chambermaid will be ready to -go to her own breakfast, leaving the windows open, unless in stormy -weather, and the beds unmade. Keep strict watch that the servants do -not fail to air their own rooms and spread open their beds when they -come down to their early morning’s work. Never fear to open chamber -windows in stormy weather. If the rain or snow beats in badly, drop -the window from the top a little way, or spread an old bit of bagging -or oil-cloth before the window to protect the carpet; but in spite of -wind or weather, have a full current of fresh air pass through your -bedchambers every morning. Once a week mattresses must be thoroughly -brushed with a whisk-broom, and the tufts or buttons that tack them -together cleaned with a round pointed brush, called a button-brush, so -that no lint or dust can lodge about them to shelter moths. When free -from lint and dirt, throw the mattress across a table, or spread on the -floor an old sheet kept for that purpose, and lay it on that. In the -same manner brush the under-bed; then turn it up and with a wet cloth -wipe off the inside of the bedstead, raising up the slats that no lint -may remain lodged there. By such care you will save much trouble from -moths and bugs. It is well to attend to this on Friday, or whichever -day may be set apart for sweeping, as lint may be dropped on the -carpet, and should be at once removed.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="V">V.<br> -HOUSE-CLEANING.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">“L</span>AST</span> year I thought <i>house-cleaning</i> would be ‘real fun.’ I had -never before taken the entire charge of such extensive operations, -and thought, in my simplicity, that I would show the old ladies how -a smart young housekeeper would walk through the fiery furnace, with -not even the smell of fire upon her garments. But I little dreamed -what I had undertaken. I found out, however, before the ‘fun’ was -ended, to my entire satisfaction, and now, in this my second year of -housekeeping, look forward to the spring cleaning with the greatest -repugnance; gladly enduring all the cold, the winds, and storms of -early spring, because they postpone the evil day. But now milder -weather and warmer suns are upon us, and this great nuisance may be no -longer deferred. How I dread it! No regularity, all rules abolished, -servants rebellious, husband—to put it mildly—<i>uncomfortable</i>; -baby cross, and I—the crossest of all? O dear! What shall I do?”</p> - -<p>What shall you do? Take it easy. <i>Patience</i>, my child, the oldest -panacea, is still the sovereign cure for such trials. But why “borrow -trouble”? For weeks you have, in imagination, been carrying this burden -which you so much dread. Wait till the proper time comes to take it -up. Give each hour its own work; do not permit yourself to groan over -that which belongs to the next; and you will find the heaviest and most -disagreeable labor, if arranged and performed systematically, glide -smoothly through your hands. When it is finished, you will look back -in amused surprise at the “bugbear” you had conjured up for your own -torment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span></p> - -<p>True, what is generally understood as regular “spring house-cleaning” -is not a pleasant operation; but is it absolutely necessary that this -important part of household duties should be made a terror to all in -the house? We think not. When furnace, grates, and stoves, have been -in constant use for six or seven months, and gas or lamps are burning -many hours each night, a very thorough house-cleaning is indispensable. -No care can prevent smoke, ashes, and gas defacing walls and ceiling, -and finding a lodgment in carpets and furniture, all over the house. -And it is necessary that the warm spring days should be devoted to -cleaning and renovating; but certainly not to the exclusion of real -home comforts and pleasures, while this work is in progress. It is -folly to commence by putting the whole house into disorder; displacing -everything, leaving no room in habitable condition, that by and by you -may, from this utter desolation, bring order out of confusion.</p> - -<p>It is best to commence with the cellar, and the first thing to be done, -after seeing that the coal-bins are in order, is to have your coal -for the year put in. It is usually as cheap, and often cheaper, in -the spring than in the fall. The coal safely housed, have the furnace -emptied and put in thorough repair. Remove all the ashes. If you have -an ash-vault, or bin containing the ashes of the whole winter, you -will require a man to do it; but if—which is much wiser—the ashes -have been sifted and removed every day, it is no burden, and but a -few minutes’ work. Then all bits of waste boards, boxes, and barrels, -no longer usable, should be chopped fine and stored with the kindling -wood. If dust and cobwebs have been overlooked, brush them down very -carefully; sweep the cellar bottom, and, if it is of stone or cemented, -scrub it clean. If all this has been done every week, as it should -be,—save the putting in coal and repairing the furnace,—it will be -only a piece of regular work; but it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span> must be done before any other -cleaning is attempted, else the coal dust and ashes will penetrate -every part of the house, and render all your labor useless. No door or -window can be shut so closely that they will not force an entrance. Be -careful to shut the “registers” from the furnace in every room, before -moving ashes or coal.</p> - -<p>The cellar being in order, the next step is to the attic. If it has -been properly attended to through the winter, it is no hard task to -make it fresh and clean, unless you allow it to be made the “catch-all” -for every kind of useless trash. If not “hard finished,” the walls -should be nicely whitewashed or calcimined, after the attic has been -swept and dusted. This done, scrub the floor faithfully; polish the -windows, and arrange neatly all that properly belongs to the attic. If -you have pieces of carpeting stored there, they should be taken into -the back yard, well brushed, and spread on the grass or hung on the -line, the first thing, before the cleaning is begun.</p> - -<p>The cellar and attic in order, you are ready for the upper chambers. If -you can afford it, it is well to secure four good house-cleaners, and -by putting two in one chamber and two in another, keeping up a quiet, -but vigilant superintendence of both parties, you will find, if the -work is well contrived, and each part arranged in regular succession, -it will be done more quickly, more effectually, and with more economy, -than to endeavor to drag through with little help.</p> - -<p>Ingrain and three-ply carpets must be lifted every year, and that is -the first thing to be done. Brussels and velvet do not need to be -taken up oftener than every two years; while heavy Wiltons, Axminster, -and Moquettes should not be removed oftener than every three years. -The texture is so firm, no dust works through to the carpet lining -beneath, and faithful sweeping and thorough use of the “carpet-sweeper” -will remove the dust and moth’s eggs. Extra care<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span> will be required to -clean and brush in corners, and wherever the carpets are turned in and -nailed; and they must also be protected, while the walls, ceiling, and -wood-work are being cleaned, by a heavy drugget spread over them, and -moved from place to place as the cleaning progresses.</p> - -<p>When washing painted walls and ceilings, take care in drying them that -they are wiped in straight lines, from top to bottom, and not unevenly, -or in circles; for however clean you may wash the paint, careless -wiping will give it a streaked and untidy appearance.</p> - -<p>Brush wall-paper carefully with a feather duster, and then pin a large -towel tightly to a clean soft broom, and placing it up to the ceiling, -bring it, with an even pressure, in a straight line down to the -mop-board or casing. Proceed in this way until you have gone over the -entire paper. It will be necessary to change the towel when it looks -soiled. If this work is well done, the paper will look almost as fresh -as new.</p> - -<p>In cleaning door-knobs, bell-pulls, or speaking-trumpets, cut a hole -in a piece of oil-silk or soft oil-cloth, and put it round the knob or -bell-pull, etc., to protect the paper or paint from being soiled.</p> - -<p>We have no room to carry these suggestions further at present, and -leave your good, earnest, common-sense to practice and improve upon -them.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VI">VI.<br> -WASHING-DAY.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“I</span>F it were not for the washing, housekeeping would lose half its -terror. But I rise every Monday morning in a troubled and unhappy -state of mind, for it is <i>washing-day</i>! The breakfast will -surely be a failure, coffee muddy, meat or hash uncooked or burnt -to a coal, everything untidy on the table, and the servants on the -verge of rebellion. With a meek and subdued countenance, with fear -and trembling, lest some unlucky word of mine may infringe upon their -dignity and cause them to leave before the washing is finished, I go -softly about the house.”</p> - -<p>This ought not so to be. In the first place, if you allow yourself -to be kept thus in bondage to your servants, you destroy all hope of -comfort. Let them once see that you fear to give them offence, and from -that hour they are your tyrants.</p> - -<p>Define, distinctly, the appropriate duties of each; but with this -proviso, that in emergencies they will be required to lend a helping -hand in any department where their services are needed. Let them -understand, unmistakably, what your rules are,—for you cannot manage a -household without well-digested laws and regulations,—then kindly, but -firmly, make them know that you will have no infringement upon those -rules.</p> - -<p>“I wonder how long any girl, my Bridget, for instance, would stay, were -I to take such independent ground.”</p> - -<p>Probably not long, if she has learned that she can intimidate you; and -once aware of that, the sooner she takes her leave the better for your -future peace,—that is, if you will be taught by this experience to -begin right with her successor.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span> Those servants who fully recognize -the lady as their <i>mistress</i>, in something more than name, are -generally the most respectful and reliable.</p> - -<p>Never allow a girl to give a disrespectful answer or manifest -irritability, simply because the work for some days in the week -may be more distasteful than in others; and never permit them to -<i>threaten</i> to leave you without insisting that the threat shall be -carried into effect, unless an ample apology is given; for, if passed -over submissively, it will be repeated whenever the girl’s temper is -ruffled. Not for our own selfish comfort alone, but for the good of all -who are compelled to employ servants, should we defend our own rights -and position; not till there is concerted action and organized rules -that will define the duties and rights of mistress and maid, and these -rules strictly enforced, will this plague, which leaves us at the mercy -of our servants, be stayed.</p> - -<p>And now let us see if there is, really, any good reason why washing-day -should be so full of terror. If one is feeble, it is not easy, -<i>nothing</i> is; but to a strong, healthy person, it ought not -to be burdensome, even if one is obliged to do it one’s own self, -particularly with the aid of all the “modern improvements.” The -apportionment of duties we have already considered, in Chapter I.</p> - -<p>Twenty years ago the tubs and wash-benches were to be brought from the -cellar or area, all the water pumped, and often carried some distance, -heated in a boiler, then poured into the tubs, and every article wrung -out by hand. Then, in the city, tubs were carried out into the streets -and the dirty suds emptied into the gutter. But there was little -complaint then of hard work. What would the girl of the present day -think if expected to work under such disadvantages?</p> - -<p>Now we have hot and cold water in the laundry, wringers, “tubs set,” -generally, which can be emptied at pleasure, without a step, making -the washing of a medium-sized family<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> not as laborious as the Friday -sweeping of a large house. With one or two servants in the house, to -divide the work, washing is not and should not be considered a hardship.</p> - -<p>Put the clothes to soak overnight, rubbing soap on the collars, -wristbands, bindings, etc., of each article. We have found Babbitt’s -soap very satisfactory, safe, and much more economical than most soap. -It is excellent for bleaching. Cut up several cakes in sufficient water -to dissolve them, and let it boil till the soap is all dissolved, then -pour it into a wooden pail, or old butter-tub that is well cleaned, and -when cold it will be nice soft soap, and keep well as long as it lasts. -This is a good way to prepare any soap for soaking or boiling clothes. -But it is more economical to have a cake of hard soap, to use for the -dirty spots, while washing.</p> - -<p>Rub soft soap on the dirtiest parts of each garment, when you put them -to soak, and just cover them with water. Table linen should be soaked -in a separate tub, and washed first; the fine clothes, sheets, and -pillow-cases put in another, and stockings and coarse things in a third -tub.</p> - -<p>Early Monday morning wring out the clothes from the water in which they -were soaked, and prepare a fresh, clean hot suds. Table linen and all -fine or starched clothes should be washed and hung out first, that they -may be dried before night. If any are left out overnight, it should -be the stockings and underclothes, bath-sheets, and dish-towels; the -latter must be soaked by themselves, and washed in water that has been -used for <i>nothing else</i>.</p> - -<p>When a boilerful has been washed, rub soap on all bindings, collars, -etc., replace the clothes in the boiler, fill it with cold or lukewarm -water, and set over the range to boil not over twenty minutes; then -pour all into a tub, adding cold water enough to make it comfortable -to the hand, when ready to put them through the second suds. While -the first set of clothes are boiling, of course those for a second -boilerful are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span> being washed and ready to be put in as soon as the first -is removed, that no time may be lost. When the second is over the fire, -get the first through the next suds and the two rinsing waters, which -should be blued and ready as quick as possible. Do not be sparing of -rinsing water. Have your largest tubs two thirds full, and put in but -a few pieces at a time, so that each article may have unobstructed -benefit of a large body of water, and all the soap may be removed. -Wring and shake out and put into the second rinsing. Shake out each -thing from the last rinsing, snapping them smooth; lay them loose into -the clean clothes-basket, and hang out to dry before you begin on the -second boiler. Careless rinsing and wringing will soon turn clothes -yellow. When two girls assist about washing, one should rinse and hang -out while the other is washing. It greatly expedites the work, of -course, if they do not spend half the time talking; but it must be a -very large wash that, even with but one at the tubs, is not all on the -line before two o’clock.</p> - -<p>Refined borax, in the proportion of one large handful of the powder to -ten gallons of boiling water, is said to save nearly one half the soap, -and make the clothes beautifully white and clear. It is a neutral salt -and will not injure the fabric. For laces, cambrics, etc., an extra -quantity is necessary. The wash-women of Belgium and Holland, so famous -for the beauty of their work, use borax instead of soda.</p> - -<p>Much more might be said on this topic if space would permit, perhaps of -little interest to old experienced housekeepers, but our talks are more -especially intended for those just entering upon the unknown sphere of -domestic care.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VII">VII.<br> -PUTTING CLOTHES TO SOAK.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“A</span> YOUNG housekeeper” is troubled at the idea of “putting clothes to -soak” overnight. She is sure it must take two or three hours to do it, -and asks, “How is one to do this, who lives in the country, where the -‘modern improvements’ of hot water and cold and stationary tubs are -not found, except in the houses of wealthy families; but where all the -water must be pumped or drawn by hand, and carried to the tubs by one -who has all the work to do for husband and family, and perhaps keeps a -few boarders beside? To bring the water, soap the clothes, as they are -put in the tub, would occupy two or three hours of the Sabbath; for, as -you speak of washing Monday, we infer that you mean to soak the clothes -Sunday.”</p> - -<p>Yes, Sunday morning or evening, as is most convenient. We think -it—like getting breakfast, washing dishes, making beds, etc., on -Sunday—one of the necessary items of household labor. True, some -prefer to do this Saturday evening, but too long soaking yellows the -clothes, and beside only part of them can be collected Saturday. -Some also soak their clothes a half-hour Monday morning, but, in our -judgment, very little is gained by that. We would, however, by no means -advocate the mode we have advised, if <i>two or three hours</i> of the -Sabbath or of any other day in the week must be given to it. Twenty -minutes or, if a large wash, half an hour, is abundant time.</p> - -<p>This young housekeeper evidently imagines that we must be giving -<i>theoretical</i> advice, and not such as can be successfully carried -into practice. But in this, as in all that we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span> have offered, we speak -only of “what we know, and testify of that which we have seen” and -done. Ten years at the West, at a time when all “modern improvements” -were unknown, and when we were so situated that the work for husband -and little ones, and often several boarders, was, of necessity, done -with one pair of hands, where the water was all to be <i>drawn</i>, not -pumped, with now and then a “shake” or “chill,” to fill up the measure -of the week’s work (and fever and ague, “out West,” in those days, was -a genuine article), compelled us to economize time, if not labor. We -never found <i>two or three hours to spend</i> in putting clothes to -soak. When supper was over, <i>Saturday evening</i>, dishes washed, and -babies to sleep, the water was drawn, tubs filled and covered, to keep -the water free from dust, and, except the bedding and garments, to be -changed Sabbath morning, all the dirty clothes accumulated through the -week were “sorted” and laid in piles on the table, in the “wash-shed,” -covered over with the clothes-baskets, ready to be soaped and put into -water. This last may be done before dressing for church or, as we much -prefer, before retiring, Sabbath evening.</p> - -<p>Such lessons, taught by the best schoolmaster in the world, -<i>necessity</i>, are often far more valuable than any we can learn in -later life, and under more easy circumstances. Of course no man, whose -labor ends with the close of the day, who deserves the honored name of -husband (<i>house-bond</i>), would need to be asked to put his strong -arm to the work, so far as to draw the water and fill the tubs, after -tea, in the twilight of Saturday evening; while the wife and mother, -whose work never ends till all are sleeping, is putting the little -folks to bed and getting everything in readiness for breakfast Sunday -morning. But often the nature of the husband’s employment deprives him, -by necessity, of the pleasure of assisting his wife. Then, if without -servants, there is no other way but for her to prove “woman’s equality -with man” by doing it herself.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span> After all, there are many harder things -than drawing the good clear water from the well.</p> - -<p>Now, with water in the tubs, clothes laid in separate parcels, plenty -of soap dissolved, or a nice barrel of soft soap close at hand, does -not our “young housekeeper” think the clothes could be soaped and put -into the tub in less than half an hour? Would there not be plenty of -time after breakfast, before dressing for church, to perform this -necessary labor as we think it? Or if making beds or uneasy children -consumed too much time in the morning, how long would it take to throw -on a wrapper just before retiring, when all is quiet at night, and -have the clothes all at soak? The answer to these questions depends on -two things,—are you an <i>early riser</i>? have you such established -system about all your labors as to secure a <i>time</i> as well as a -<i>place</i> for everything?</p> - -<p>There is one other point that may as well receive attention while we -are on this subject.</p> - -<p>Many are in the habit of changing bed-linen Saturday night, to avoid -what may seem like extra labor Sunday morning, in accordance with their -ideas of a strict observance of the Sabbath. We cannot think this -wise. It certainly does not meet our ideas of that “cleanliness that -is next to godliness.” We think it should be a matter of principle -to have everything as pure, as sweet, and clean Sabbath morning as -is possible. All one’s clothes are put on fresh on that morning; -table-cloths and napkins come right from the drawer. If these are all -brought out spotless in their purity, in honor of the Lord’s day, then -why should not our beds also rejoice in the whitest of linen? We think -it a grateful and appropriate way of beginning our Sabbath; and if the -bed-linen is laid out Saturday night, as it should always be, we do not -see how it can occupy more time to put on clean things than those which -are tumbled and soiled. We think the objections to it are of that kind -spoken of as being “wise above that which is written.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII">VIII.<br> -PATIENT CONTINUANCE IN WELL-DOING.</h2> - -</div> -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">A</span>FTER</span> one of those days of perplexity and annoyance that will -occasionally come to all housekeepers, old or young, order having at -last been restored, and peace beginning to dawn out of the confusion, -we took up the pen to begin our weekly talk with young friends. But -pausing for a moment’s rest and deliberation, our thoughts took form -and life, and led us into an imaginary conversation with a young -housekeeper, passing though the same trials we had just been battling -with. We think we cannot do better than send the thoughts and scenes -that rose before our mind, as they so truly illustrate our idea of the -necessity of constant watchfulness combined with “patient continuance -in well-doing.” We think most of our readers, who have just begun -life’s cares, will have already learned that imagination does not, in -this case, equal the reality.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene.</span>—A lady’s chamber, and the occupant in tears. Enter a -<i>Motherly Talker</i>.</p> - -<p>—Why! what can be the matter? You, so bright and cheerful usually, in -despondency and tears! Some great trouble must have befallen you!</p> - -<p>“I am completely discouraged! I ought never to have undertaken -housekeeping. It is evident I shall never make a good housekeeper, and -I <i>will not</i> be a poor one. After all my boasting when I first -began, I am ashamed to tell you now how miserably I have failed. But -‘open confession is good for the soul,’ and when you have had the whole -story, say if you think I am worth the teaching.”</p> - -<p>Why, how humble our little woman has become! Some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span> “lion in the way,” -and, doubtless, of your own creating, has disheartened you for the -present, we think. Tell us, without hesitation, what troubles you, and -we will see if we cannot find a “silver lining” to this cloud, as it is -easy to do in most cases.</p> - -<p>“Well, listen, and tell me, when you learn how I have been blinded, if -I have not cause to hide in the valley of humiliation.</p> - -<p>“I have labored hard to train my Bridget, to the best of my ability, -and, with all her inefficiencies, have felt and boasted that she was -really <i>neat</i>. That being the case, I felt myself capable of -keeping so strict a watch of her weak points, that she could not hide -her mistakes so deftly but that I would find and try to teach her to -rectify them. I had, at the commencement of my new life, arranged -everything in the nicest order; and having started the machinery, -Bridget seeming so ready to carry out my rules, I was confident -that, by keeping up a careful supervision, I could not fail, and was -in a fair way to become a bright and shining light among my sister -housekeepers.</p> - -<p>“Well, Bridget left me yesterday. I didn’t much care. There would be no -trouble in replacing her, and doubtless securing a more capable girl. -Beside, a few days’ work all to myself would be no hardship; for had -I not been so faithful in my oversight of all domestic affairs, that -everything about <i>my</i> house must be in perfect order?</p> - -<p>“I was in the habit of visiting kitchen and store-closet daily. The -sink seemed clean, the range well polished, the boiler bright, and -dishes all in order, and making quite a pretty display on the shelves. -Ah! if I had handled each article, looked <i>into</i> each pot or -kettle, instead of being content to see only the <i>outside</i>, I -should have soon learned that all was falsely fair! Why! everything was -slippery, greasy, dirty, or leaking, except those which were placed -in the front<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> rank, <i>for show</i>. I am sick and lame from just -this morning’s cleaning and scrubbing, and am not half through even -the kitchen. Half the dishes that looked so nicely on the shelves are -‘nicked’ or cracked; holes burnt in the saucepans, and bits of old -cloth drawn through to stop the leak,—who can tell how long they have -remained there, gathering filth, or from what dirty rag they were torn!</p> - -<p>“How often I have praised Bridget for keeping the kitchen coffee and -tea pot so bright. But when I took them down this morning, lo! the -coffee-pot was minus a handle, and the teapot bottomless! They were -placed with the perfect side in sight on the shelves, and the broken -parts wholly concealed; while my best things were doubtless used in -the kitchen. If I must take up each article, day by day, to be sure of -their condition, I could do nothing else through the day.</p> - -<p>“In the cellar a barrel stood, in its proper place, filled with -kindling. I reached my hand in hastily to get paper to start the fire, -and quickly snatched it out, cut and bleeding. There were only a few -papers on the top of the barrel, and all the rest of its contents was -broken glass and china!</p> - -<p>“Then my store-closet is kept locked, and the key in my own pocket. -I have always handed out everything—sugar, spices, sweetmeats, -etc.—myself, yet I find much sugar, sweetmeats, spices, and jellies -missing! Now that my suspicions are aroused, I see what has gone. If -<i>I keep the keys myself</i>, and yet am not safe from pilfering, what -can I do? But other housekeepers have not this trouble: where lies the -secret of their success, and my most humiliating failure?”</p> - -<p>Now, although this is simply an imaginary scene, there is far more -truth than fiction in it. Many housekeepers of late years have often -had the same experience, and worse. This evil is growing upon us -rapidly. If deliverance comes not to us,—perhaps through China,—our -housekeepers have a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span> gloomy prospect. The secret of apparent success -with some often arises from the fact, that keeping two or three girls -employed, when one leaves without warning, those who remain are -expected to manage as best they can, till the vacant place is filled. -In these cases the mistress does not see with her own eyes all that -takes place behind the scenes. Such “ignorance is bliss,” perhaps, but -certainly not the best economy. Whereas, if housekeepers are left alone -without any help for a few days, and are obliged to take the work into -their own hands, they learn several unexpected lessons which are not -easy to forget. They see the evils which have been quietly accumulating -under the carelessness or deceit of servants, and will not be so -readily blinded the second time.</p> - -<p>When you have servants about you, it is not possible to handle every -article, to look into every corner, daily. One might as well make -no pretence of keeping “help.” And while only a slavery of the most -exact and unfailing watchfulness can save you from many leaks and much -extravagant waste, yet, by this course, you may lose, by the constant -irritation of disposition, more than you can save pecuniarily. The -only safe way is to make things as secure as possible; first, as to -the character of servants when you engage them; secondly, by way of -guarding them from the temptation of open closets and immunity from -oversight.</p> - -<p>So long as servants can and do forge “characters” or “recommendations,” -or use skeleton keys,—and many do this,—we are greatly at their -mercy, unless we look the evil squarely in the face, and attempt to -find a remedy. We are told that to speak plainly of these things—which -are truly of frequent occurrence—we open the eyes of the servants -as well as their mistresses, and tempt them to do the wrong which, -but for the speaking of it, they never would have thought of. Let no -one believe this. It is entirely a mistaken notion. Our ladies have -no idea how thoroughly posted their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> servants are—even some of the -most trusted—in every evil of this kind. A better way is to meet any -such dangers openly; not willingly stumble along blindfold, lest we -should see what we cannot help fearing is going on in our midst. <i>See -it</i>, and try to overcome it by greater caution. Never, under any -consideration, take a written “recommendation” of a girl. Go to the -lady who is said to have written the “character,” and learn the truth. -That destroys all danger from forged certificates. If it is thought too -much trouble, then you must not complain of imposition.</p> - -<p>Again, if you judge best to keep locked closets and store-rooms, there -are many patent locks, not expensive, which no “pass” or “skeleton -key” can open. Put such on your store-closet and places which you most -desire to guard, and you at once secure yourself against another evil.</p> - -<p>And “patient continuance in well-doing,” frequent, careful, but -kindly oversight, thorough but not suspicious inspection of kitchen, -store-rooms, closets, etc., will lessen many others; the remainder -we must endure until, among all the reformatory movements of this -progressive age, some good spirit shall effect a deliverance from -the heaviest burden that oppresses the housekeeper,—<i>unfaithful, -inefficient servants</i>.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IX">IX.<br> -PREPARING FOR THE COUNTRY.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">J</span>UNE, the month of roses, is near, and all who are compelled to live a -large part of the year in the city are looking forward to some weeks -of rest from ever-ringing bells, interminable flights of stairs, and -all the wear and tear that belong peculiarly to a city life. But there -is much to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span> done before you can safely close the doors and leave -the house and its content under lock and key, for the summer. Every -part of the house should be thoroughly examined, and none but the eye -of the mistress can be depended upon. Each article that is to be left -behind must be carefully looked after. Winter garments, furs, and such -heavy shawls as may not be thought advisable to take to the country, -have of course been aired, beaten, sprinkled with Poole’s or Lyon’s -insect-powder, wrapped up in linen or paper, and sealed so that no -moth can find an entrance. Even if done up in linen, it is better to -put over that a strong wrapping-paper, and seal up with mucilage. If -this is faithfully done, moths cannot, or rather will not, wish to get -in. We are inclined to think that Poole’s powder is the best; it is -certainly the most disagreeable, and that speaks well for its efficacy. -Camphor or cedar trunks, made expressly for packing furs, woolens, -etc., are a great convenience and very safe; but for those who have -none, sprinkling with the powder and sealing in thick paper is, though -more troublesome, equally reliable.</p> - -<p>If the house is to be closed for some time, a very thorough cleaning -of paint, windows, plated knobs, and bell-pulls is a useless waste of -time and strength, as they will all be bronzed in a few weeks; but -every part should be well swept, and all accumulation of dust removed. -In the attic or any uncarpeted room, where the boards of the floor have -shrunk, leaving open spaces between the boards, much dust and lint -will gather in the crevices thus formed, and become favorite nests for -moths. All such places should be swept with great care. A stiff brush -should be used to clear every particle of dirt out, and then scrub the -floor with hot soapsuds. When it is dry, sprinkle insect-powder in the -seams. This done, and well done, we think there need be no hesitation -in leaving a house unoccupied for a few weeks; certainly we should feel -far less solicitude than to leave a servant in it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span></p> - -<p>Insect-powder should be put round the corners and edges of such carpets -as are to remain on the floor for the summer. There is a little -bellows that generally comes with Poole’s powder, or can be had at -house-furnishing stores, by which you can blow the powder under the -edges much more thoroughly than in any other way.</p> - -<p>Next, see that all food is removed from the house; meat, salt or -fresh butter, flour, meal, bread, or cake should be disposed of. Such -articles soon spoil and make the air impure and offensive; or, if not -offensive, it entices rats and mice into the house to prepare work and -trouble for you all through the winter.</p> - -<p>The furnace and ranges must be cleared out, and if any repairs are -necessary they should be done now. It will annoy you far more to have -these to attend to when you return and are in the confusion and haste -of getting “settled” for the winter, with the thousand interruptions to -which you will then be liable. The top of the range should be rubbed -in sweet-oil, or lard that has no salt in it, to prevent <i>rust</i>. -Flat-irons, bake-pans, soup-boilers, all iron-ware, must also be oiled, -wrapped up in paper, and hung up, that you may find your utensils in -perfect order when you return, needing only a good washing in hot -soapsuds to be ready for immediate use. Have locks, keys, bolts, and -bars in a good usable condition, that you may feel sure that nothing is -left without strong fastenings.</p> - -<p>All this preparation is hard work, and you are very thankful when the -last trunk is locked, the last bundle or basket fastened, and this -labor ended. But the comfort and satisfaction of knowing by your own -actual observation and care that all has been done, and waits your -return in the fall, with no mark of carelessness to rise up in reproach -against you, will be ample compensation. Yet, at the last minute, take -one more journey from cellar to attic, to “make assurance doubly sure,” -and then, leaving all that care behind you, go on your way rejoicing.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="X">X.<br> -HEEDLESSNESS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HERE are many annoyances that fall to a housekeeper’s lot which seem -very insignificant when spoken of, and too trivial to put on paper; but -they are grievances nevertheless, and like a wasp’s or bee’s sting, -though small, not easily borne; and when they follow each other in -quick succession, and are constantly repeated, the accumulation, like a -whole swarm of bees, will tax the grace and patience of the strongest. -It is the little frets of daily life that, when summed up, become -almost unendurable; and to them is added the mortification of knowing -that friends who are only “lookers on,” having never themselves touched -the burden with so much as their little finger, feel no sympathy, but -on the contrary almost a good-natured contempt, that any one should -be so weak as to be shaken by such trifling troubles and vexations. -But they are not trifling; if they were only occasional they would be; -but they are of daily, hourly occurrence, and, because they are never -ending, make a housekeeper’s responsible position one that demands -self-control and patience of a higher order than any other position to -which woman aspires. There is a dignity in being burnt at the stake -that enables one to rise above the pain; but to be harried to death -with briers and brambles is very humiliating, yet a torture none the -less.</p> - -<p>Many things that are really untidy are not noticed until, through -neglect, they increase, and at last cause great confusion in the home -affairs, simply because the young housekeeper’s attention has not been -called to them, or she does not yet understand how to regulate and -control them. Ignorance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span> may be bliss, but it is of a nature that leads -to mischief in the end.</p> - -<p>Let us point out some of these petty troubles, and see what they amount -to and how they may be removed.</p> - -<p>What more disagreeable and annoying than to have the vapors or odors -that arise from washing or cooking pervade the whole house, giving to -it the sickening smell of the lowest class boarding-houses? When seated -quietly in the parlor, it comes so gradually upon one that it is hardly -noticed; but step for a moment into the fresh air, and on your return -you will be greatly disgusted at the fumes that half suffocate you -as you open the door. This infliction can be escaped only by keeping -the doors of the kitchen or hall leading from it tightly closed. Yet -it seems almost impossible to teach a servant that just “pushing the -door to” is not shutting it, and the smells of the kitchen will escape -as readily through a half-closed as through an open door. There is no -help for this evil but watchfulness and constant reminder. You can put -springs or rubber straps on the door, and while they are new and stiff -they will swing to with force enough to close it; but the spring will -soon grow careless, like other servants, and by and by not shut the -door entirely. As well leave it wide open as ajar. Besides, springs are -very troublesome and inconvenient, and, in the passing of servants with -their hands full, endanger the dishes. And, worse than all, we have -noticed that a spring on the door has a singularly inflammatory effect -on the disposition of the servants; and after they have been hit or a -few dishes broken once or twice by it, the spring suddenly breaks or -is cut. Of course <i>it broke itself</i>, or <i>nobody</i>—that most -mysterious mischief-maker—did it. The watch and care of the mistress -is the only remedy.</p> - -<p>Another careless habit which often proves a great grief of heart to -the thorough housekeeper, and to which the attention<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span> of the beginner -should be directed from the first, is the use of dish-towels and -dish-cloths, instead of “holders,” to remove pots, stew-pans, and -kettles from the fire, or meats and pies from the oven. It is a habit -that is harder to conquer than almost any other. The most ample supply -of <i>holders</i> may be provided, yet the mistress seldom enters the -kitchen but she sees the nice crash towel caught up to remove a boiling -pot from the stove, or a gridiron from the fire, and if it is not -tossed into the sink, scorched and smeared, it is a marvel. And the -“holder” you had so neatly made but a few days before, now a mass of -grease, stove-crock, and filth, is perhaps lying in the coal-hod ready -to be thrown into the fire, where you will be the least likely to find -it out; for to <i>wash a holder</i> never enters into the heads of -those who use, or rather abuse, them so badly.</p> - -<p>A <i>cook’s holder</i> should be made of some strong, dark material, a -piece of tape about a half-yard long sewed on one corner, and a large -hook on the tape to hook into cook’s belt or apron-string. It is then -always ready for use.</p> - -<p>“And will she remember to use it?”</p> - -<p>Doubtful; certainly not without your watchful care. But be sure and -have them ready, and then strictly endeavor to secure their proper use.</p> - -<p>The ironing-holder should be of soft, light-colored material, that dirt -and stains may bear testimony against its use about clean clothes, till -it is washed. Harsh material is severe on the hands when used for hours -on a hot iron. When out of use, the ironing-holder must be put away -with the ironing-sheet, bosom-board, etc., that they may not be used in -the kitchen.</p> - -<p>Again: watch the dish-towels; see that they are not thrown on the -floor or into a chair to be sat on by the first one who happens in, -and perhaps the next minute used to wipe the fine china or cover over -the bread fresh from the oven.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span> Such things are constantly being done. -Do our housekeepers know it? Of course they never do such things -<i>themselves;</i> but if they once gave it a moment’s sober thought, -would they not, for their own comfort, endeavor to prevent its being -done again? Who would wish to eat or drink from china wiped with towels -so misused? Who would like to eat bread that had been wrapped up in -a dish-towel, however clean? They should be washed and boiled every -day after the dinner-dishes are out of the way, hung out to dry, and -fresh, clean ones used at tea and till after dinner the next day, when -the first set are brought in for the dishes, and the second washed, -boiled, and hung out,—thus securing clean towels for each day. But -no matter how faithfully this rule may be carried out, <i>no</i> -dish-towel should ever be used for bread, no bread-cloth should be used -to wipe meat, no meat-cloth used for fish. Each contracts a taste or -smell belonging to its own peculiar work, and each should be marked and -employed for its own appropriate use, and <i>no other</i>.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XI">XI.<br> -WASHING FLANNELS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“C</span>AN you tell me what has been done to my blankets? Not a year in use, -and look at them! Fortunately I put but two into the wash this week, -and now I think I shall never dare to have another washed. My pretty, -soft, white blankets absolutely ruined!”</p> - -<p>Not ruined, as far as use is concerned, but the beauty has departed, -never to return. Did you overlook the washing of them yourself?</p> - -<p>“Most certainly not! I never did such a thing in my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span> life. I told the -laundress that I wanted her to be very particular, and she assured me -that she was fully competent to the work. I have just been speaking to -her about them, and she can’t tell what should make them look so badly, -unless there was something wrong about the wool.”</p> - -<p>That is simply absurd. Did you question her as to her mode of washing -them?</p> - -<p>“O, no. I should not have known if she had managed incorrectly, and to -question her would only have exposed my own ignorance to a servant, -and that I am very loth to do; but she said she rubbed them very -faithfully, soaped them thoroughly, and boiled them in good, clean -suds.”</p> - -<p><i>Soaped and boiled blankets</i>, or woolen goods of any kind! No -wonder they are brown and muddy, and as thick as a board!</p> - -<p>Blankets that are carefully managed will not require washing often; -yours have been in use so short a time they certainly could not have -needed it, unless they were accidentally soiled.</p> - -<p>“No, they looked very fresh and fair; but I had supposed blankets -should be washed every fall and spring. I never asked why.”</p> - -<p>O, no! They are always put between the sheets and bedspreads, not in -contact with the body at all, and it would be long before anything but -an accident or the greatest carelessness could soil them.</p> - -<p>There are people who will lie down for a nap in the afternoon -<i>between the blankets</i>! The housekeeper who can patiently -or silently endure that must be nearer akin to the angels than -we generally find them. True, no woman would be guilty of such -carelessness; but ignorance is an excuse for many short-comings. But it -is not this class of men that we intend to have at home in charge of -household affairs when women go to Congress.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span></p> - -<p>Occasionally, in a fair, clear day, and when there is a moderate -wind, it is well to pin blankets on the clothes-line in the yard, -that they may be well aired and freshened, and whatever dust may -have settled in them be whipped out by the wind. When they really -need washing, the first step is to see that there is a good quantity -of boiling water ready. Next, select the largest tub and fill half -full of <i>boiling</i> water; dissolve and stir thoroughly into it -two table-spoonfuls of powdered borax and sufficient soap to make a -good lather, but on no account <i>rub soap on the blankets</i>. Put -into the tub but one blanket at a time. Shake it to and fro with the -clothes-stick till perfectly wet through, then press it under the water -to remain till cool enough to use your hands in it, when each part -should be examined very carefully, gently rubbing or squeezing the suds -through it. Hard rubbing <i>fulls</i> woolens. When sure that all spots -or dirt are removed, wring them into a second tub of boiling water -into which you have thoroughly stirred some blueing. If your first -suds are strong enough, the blankets will retain sufficient soap for -the rinsing water, which in woolens requires a little soap. Shake the -blanket up and down in this water, with the clothes-stick, till it has -flowed through every part. Then, while the water is still hot, wring -it. It requires two persons to wring and shake out a bed-blanket. They -should take it by the ends and snap vigorously, to remove all the water -as far as possible. Then carry it to the line, throw it over, and pull -it smooth, bringing the hems straight and true, and pin on to the line -strongly. When half dry, turn it lengthwise on the line, and pull the -selvedges together in a straight line, so that no part may draw up in -<i>cockles</i> or full unevenly.</p> - -<p>It is not well to wash woolens of any kind on a rainy or cloudy day; -but for blankets it is ruinous. A bright sunny day with a brisk wind -is very desirable, as it snaps out the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span> water, giving it no chance to -settle. When the blanket is perfectly dry, fold very evenly, but never -press or iron it.</p> - -<p>Washed in this way, although your blankets may not be quite as white -as when new, the change will be hardly noticeable, and they will be -soft and fleecy until worn out. A tall, large tub with a pounder or -dasher on springs, fastened across the tub, like the old-fashioned -pounding-barrel, or the tub and dasher of the Metropolitan -Washing-Machine, is one of the most convenient and desirable tubs to -wash blankets in, as the washing can be done at once without waiting -for the water to cool. The pounder should be used gently, as harsh -rubbing or pounding knots the fibers of woolens, but the spring dasher -keeps the water filtering through every part without any hard usage.</p> - -<p>Wash flannels in the same way, only bring them from the line while -quite damp; pull out and fold evenly. If any spot has “fulled” or -“cockled,” when it is a little damp you can pull it smooth. Roll up the -articles tight, for a little while, until dampened all over alike, and -then press them till dry, pulling the garment taut from the iron as you -press.</p> - -<p>There are many theories about washing woolen goods. Several of the -“Household Guides,” of late, recommend washing in cold water. Some even -advise <i>soaking</i> them all night, claiming that they do not felt or -full any more than when washed in hot water, and are not as liable to -grow yellow. But we cannot think this idea correct. Professor Youmans, -in his “Book of Household Science,” describes the difference, in the -structure of fiber, between woolen and cotton and linen fabrics, with a -drawing of the straight, smooth form of linen or cotton filaments, and -the toothed and jagged structures of woolen fabrics, and says:—</p> - -<p>“It is evident that the latter, by compression and friction, will -mat and lock together, while cotton and linen fibers, having no such -asperities of surface, are incapable of anything<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span> like close mechanical -adherence. Hence the peculiar capabilities of woolen fabrics of -felting, fulling, and shrinking, caused by the binding together of -the ultimate filaments. We see, therefore, the impolicy of excessive -rubbing in washing woolen fabrics, and of changing them from hot -to cold water, as the contraction that it causes is essentially a -<i>fulling</i> process. The best experience seems to indicate that -woolen cloths should never be put into cold water, but always into -warm, and if changed from water to water, they should go <i>from hot to -hotter</i>. In the most skillful modes of cleansing <i>delaines</i> for -printing, the plan is, to place them first in water at 100° or 120°, -and then treat them eight or ten times with water 10° hotter in each -change.”</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XII">XII.<br> -JUNE CARES.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HERE is much of romance and beauty in the month of June, partly -imaginary and partly real. During the frosts and snows of winter, the -sharp winds and dreary storms of spring, our thoughts turn with most -affectionate longings towards June,—the month of loves and roses. Yet, -when she comes, hardly any other month of the whole year brings so many -little frets and annoyances as the month of June.</p> - -<p>The first two or three days, so warm and balmy, lull us into a dreamy -state of delightful rest and security; but we wake to find damp, foggy -mornings, with mists so dark and dense that you long to cut a window -through for the sunshine, which you feel must be held in durance vile -behind it. Particularly is this noticeable if living near a river. All<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span> -through the first half of the month we have cold, stormy days, then -suddenly damp, sultry, sticky ones. In the morning we are uncertain -how to dress. If warm, and we put on cool, thin garments, perhaps -in an hour or two a chilly wind sweeps by, and, shivering and quite -uncomfortable, we resort to a breakfast shawl or sack; they are a -little too much, and we drop them, only too glad, in a few moments, to -draw them close about us again; or, in an obstinate fit, we refuse to -yield to the demands made by these sudden changes for warmer clothing, -and a heavy cold is the result. The wind has a decided partiality for -the east most of the time in early June. If it veers for a few hours -to the south, it is in an unsteady, wavering manner, and soon turns -back to the east again. The result is, that the first half of June will -very likely keep you in an uncomfortable, dissatisfied state of mind. -Everything molds; clothes grow damp in drawers or wardrobes, or the -washing is caught out in a shower, just as it is half ready to be taken -in. It is decidedly “falling weather.” Be watchful to guard against -any infelicities that may follow these changes, patiently accepting -what they bring that cannot be avoided. That’s the only true way. This -variable weather usually lasts till the middle of June, sometimes -later, when we may look for more settled but very warm weather.</p> - -<p>The flies have been reconnoitring,—sending out scouts, during those -few weeks of mild weather; but as the warm days become more permanent, -they come on with their main army. We have put the moths to rest, but -these intruders, if not as mischievous, are quite as hard to manage, -and even as persistent. There are various kinds of “fly-paper,” around -which, if ready for them, certainly lie large numbers of the slain to -certify to the virtues of the paper. It is doubtless of some benefit, -but does not by any means free us from this great vexation. It is at -least a dirty, mussy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span> remedy, requiring one to be incessantly on the -watch lest flies who have tasted the paper fall into food, or lie -about in an unseemly manner. If servants in the kitchen or dining-room -have any gifts toward <i>neatness</i>, this constant litter makes them -cross; if they have not that gift, the careless way they allow the -dead flies to lie about, and the fear that they may approach too near -the cooking, <i>may</i> make the mistress cross also,—two evils to be -scrupulously avoided.</p> - -<p>During the heat of summer we are compelled to keep open doors and -windows, but these lawless intruders know, apparently, the moment when -we lift the latch or raise the window, and swarm in upon us in myriads. -To secure the air and baffle the flies, we have found mosquito netting -a great help. A simple frame of pine, about an inch and a half wide, -fitted closely inside the lower sash, with mosquito lace or net nailed -across it (galvanized nails or tacks should be used, to avoid rust), -is the most effectual safeguard we have ever tried. The frame must -not be quite as high as the lower sash, as room is needed to push in -the spring to open or close the window. The outside doors and those -leading from the kitchen to the dining-room may have frames fitted in -the same manner,—the frame having a cross-piece in the middle. It can -be hung on hinges, having a hook in the cross-piece to fasten it with, -while the real door may be kept open all day, excluding the flies, -but leaving freedom for the air to circulate. By a few days’ extra -care the family will soon learn to close this net door, or swarms of -flies will quickly remind them of any heedlessness in this matter. A -wire net is the most durable, although more expensive at first; but -it will soon repay the extra expense, for lace or netting must be -renewed every year. Yet notwithstanding these precautions, the flies -will often effect an entrance, especially into the dining-room when -dishing the dinner, or when merry, heedless children rush in and out, -always forgetting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span> to close the door. Cut old newspapers in strips -an inch or an inch and a half wide, nearly the whole length of the -sheet, leaving only about two inches uncut at the top. Take a smooth -round stick about two feet long, and laying three or four of these cut -papers together, wind the uncut part about the stick. Tie the paper -on with strong twine, very tightly, so that it will not slip, leaving -the long ribbons of paper hanging loose, and you have a most effectual -<i>fly-brush</i>. Cheap calico is still better, as paper tears easily -and litters the room. Keep one always on hand for the kitchen, and two -for the parlor and dining-room. If the flies have secured an entrance -during the dishing of dinner, when it is served spread a large piece of -netting over the table to protect the food from dust or the flies you -may brush down. Open the door, let two persons take each a fly-brush, -and, standing opposite the door, swing the brush in concert through the -room swiftly toward the door, and it will be amusing and gratifying to -observe how hastily the intruders will vacate the premises. One or two -well-directed charges will leave you free to shut the net door, remove -the netting from the table, and partake of your dinner unmolested.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIII">XIII.<br> -PURE AIR AND THOROUGH VENTILATION.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">A</span>T </span>all seasons of the year it is important that the house should be -kept dry and well ventilated; but extra precautions are necessary -in warm weather. The nights are often close and sultry; windows are -left open with the hope—often a vain one—that an occasional breeze -may deign to sweep through the rooms, and assist us in the labor -of breathing. And here is danger. The night air, what there may be -of it, and the heavy morning fogs, fill the house with dampness. -The bedclothes are moist and disagreeable. The garments laid off on -retiring at night, if left near an open window, are heavy with dew. -Fever and ague, rheumatism, cholera, and dysentery lurk always in such -an atmosphere. One of the best preventives is a quick blaze, in an open -fireplace or stove, immediately after rising; no matter how warm the -weather may be. A handful of brush or light wood, just to make a blaze, -expel the bad air, and <i>dry</i> the rooms, not <i>heat</i> them, is -all that is needed.</p> - -<p>Those who can be in the country during the summer will have no -difficulty in finding plenty of brush,—dead branches, or sprouts, or -bushes, cut off in clearing up the fields or hedges. On a rainy day, -when outdoor work or play cannot be advantageously attended to, a child -could easily cut them up into foot or foot and a half lengths, tie -them in fagots, and pile them neatly in the wood-house, ready for use. -Keep one of these fagots always in the fireplace or stove, ready for -lighting every morning. It will dry and purify the air wonderfully, and -save doctors’ bills and much sickness.</p> - -<p>Aside from the ill effects of dampness, the air is full of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span> impurities -arising from the body, and more injurious through the night than in the -day. Professor Youmans says:—</p> - -<p>“The escape of offensive matter from the body becomes most obvious -when, from out of the pure air in the morning, one enters an -unventilated bedroom where one or two have slept the night before. -Every one must have experienced the sickening and disgusting odor -upon going into such a room, though its occupants themselves do not -recognize it. The nose, although an organ of excessive sensibility, -and capable of perceiving the presence of offensive matters where the -most delicate chemical tests fail, is nevertheless easily blunted, -and what at the first impression is pre-eminently disgusting, quickly -becomes less offensive to the smell; but the impure air has not -departed. Two persons, occupying a bed for eight hours, impart to the -sheets by insensible perspiration, and to the air by breathing, a pound -of watery vapor charged with latent animal poison. When the air in -other inhabited rooms is not often changed, the water of exhalation, -thus loaded with impurities, condenses upon the furniture, windows, -and walls, dampening their surfaces, and running down in unwholesome -streams.</p> - -<p>“Yet we are not to regard the human body as necessarily impure, or a -focus of repulsive emanations. It is not by the natural and necessary -working of the vital machinery that the air is poisoned, but by its -artificial confinement, and the accumulation of deleterious substances.”</p> - -<p>In speaking of the prevalent inattention to a perfect ventilation in -our homes, and the need of great care in this respect, if we would -secure health, Youmans also refers to the “gaseous exhalations, of -every sort, that escape from our kitchens, filling the house with -unpleasant odors; the imperfect combustion of oil and tallow in -lighting our homes; the defective burning of gas-jets”; and the -injurious effects upon health,—causing severe headaches, if nothing -worse; to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span> destruction to health from the poisonous influences -of green paper-hangings upon the air, from which the fine particles, -loosened by dusting or moving about the room, are set afloat in the -atmosphere, and are often very deadly.</p> - -<p>Then from the decayed vegetables—carelessly allowed to remain -sometimes for days in our cellars—and the damp and stagnant air of -cellars and basements come exhalations most destructive to health. -Even dry closets and rooms in upper stories become moldy and musty if -not often and thoroughly aired. “To be pure and healthy, air requires -continual circulation; but cellars are rarely either ventilated or -made dry by water-proof walls or floors, and are usually damp, cold, -unclean, and moldy.</p> - -<p>“The air from these basements and cellars ascends to the upper rooms in -such small quantities that it does not produce immediate disease; yet -it so gradually undermines the health as not to be perceptible. Many an -invalid, who fancies himself benefited by the change of air in going -to another residence, is really only improved by escaping the moldy -atmosphere that arises from beneath his own ground-floor.”</p> - -<p>By quoting thus largely from Professor Youmans, we bring good authority -for the particular and earnest advice we have offered to our “young -housekeepers” with regard to the drying and ventilating every part of -their houses. We doubt not many a one, who has begun with sound health, -has gradually sunk into a confirmed invalid, when the principal cause -could be traced back to carelessness in this seemingly unimportant -duty. And those who are thus slowly poisoned by the impure air which -comes through this neglect of duty are the most ready recipients of all -infectious and epidemic diseases.</p> - -<p>It is always well to have either a bath full of water near where one -sleeps, or, if no bath, a pail or tub full set into the room, as water -is one of the best disinfectants, cleansing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span> the air by taking up all -the impurities from it as fast as they arise. But this water should be -let off in the morning, and fresh water used for bathing or washing; -and if you need drinking water in your bedroom,—and it is well always -to have it near,—do not let it remain open in your room, as it absorbs -impurities, and would be unfit for drinking; but either have a lid -to your pitcher or cover it over with a thin cloth, to keep dust and -insects out, and set it on the ledge <i>outside</i> your window, in the -pure, fresh air.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIV">XIV.<br> -MILK AND BUTTER.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">J</span>ULY and August are trying months for those who have charge of milk and -butter, unless the work to be done is performed in large establishments -devoted entirely to it. When a milk-house is built under large trees, -to shield it from the fierce heat of the mid-day sun, with a stream -of pure cold water running through it, the labor is diminished full -one half. Indeed, we should not call it labor, but an exhilarating -amusement to take charge of such an one as we saw, a few weeks ago, -in Norwich, Chenango County, New York. We have not thought of it -since without a longing, amounting almost to coveting our neighbor’s -work. To find this house among the trees, away from the confusion and -turmoil of the town, which is shaken by the ceaseless din of more noisy -occupations, was most restful and tranquillizing; the music of the -rich, green leaves among the long sweeping branches, and the murmur -of the restless brook, could not fail to give a spring and elasticity -to the spirits that must, in a great measure, overcome the sense -of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span> fatigue. This was our first impression, as we stood outside the -unpretentious building, and it was in nowise changed when we stepped -upon the smooth floor, as white as good soap, fresh water, and a -willing arm could make it.</p> - -<p>Our attention was immediately attracted by the sound of machinery. -In the farther corner of the room stood two large barrel-churns, the -dashers of both moving up and down with an easy, uniform motion, -impelled by the wheel and belt overhead, to which they were attached. -No fears for the aching back and tired arms neutralized our enjoyment, -for the woman in charge sat, resting by the open door, till the butter -was ready to be taken out into the “butter-worker.”</p> - -<p>A large trough, some twelve or fourteen feet long, six or eight -wide, and perhaps four deep (we simply use our Yankee privilege of -<i>guessing</i> at the dimensions), and lined with tin, was placed in -the middle of the room, where the curd for “skimmed cheese,” made from -milk after all the cream was removed, was “set.” This and the churning -arrangements occupied half the building. The other half was a large -tank, through which the water from the brook flowed continually. Into -this reservoir, always full, tall tin cans, between two or three feet -high, and perhaps a foot across, were set. Little danger that milk in -that cool bed would sour before all the cream had been risen. About -this tank ran a wide shelf or ledge, on which stood great tubs of -golden butter waiting to be sent to market.</p> - -<p>In the second story, equally cool and clean, large shelves were placed, -where the cheeses are kept to dry, or ripen, entirely separate from the -butter.</p> - -<p>This is a very tame description of a scene of labor which was to us -exceedingly interesting. We must now hasten to speak of that which is -real care and labor,—the management of small dairies, where butter is -only made for home consumption.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></p> - -<p>The most scrupulous cleanliness must be recognized as being absolutely -indispensable. If all else is done to perfection, and <i>that</i> is -wanting, you cannot have good butter. As you skim one mess, be sure -that the shelf on which it stood is faithfully scrubbed and left -unoccupied until it becomes dry. Every utensil used about milk or -cream should be kept for this, and drafted into no other service. Many -object to using soap in washing milk-pans, pails, etc. But we have -great affection and reverence for soap, and cannot imagine that its -free use can harm any article employed about a dairy. We always insist -that the pails, pans, skimmers, butter-prints, and churn be washed in -<i>very hot</i> suds; if a servant fears to risk her hands, we use our -own. A small, pointed scrub-brush must be used to scour the seams, -corners, handles, etc., of all the utensils, and particularly the -<i>strainers</i> in the pails. After this scrubbing is well done, rinse -in an abundance of hot water, and then pour over all a large kettle -of <i>boiling</i> water. Let the articles stand in this a short time, -then wipe with clean towels, and turn down on a stand or shelf prepared -for them outdoors, where the sun will sweeten them perfectly. Even in -rainy days, better leave them out an hour or two that they may have the -benefit of the air at least, if deprived of sun; then wipe them dry, -and bring into the milk-room before night.</p> - -<p>A small unpainted tub should be kept expressly to wash milk things in. -The brush, wash-cloths, and drying towels ought all to be marked, and -never used for any other purpose. See that they are washed, scalded, -and hung to dry, outdoors if possible, every time they are used.</p> - -<p>If the milk-room or cellar is small and not ventilated, it is very -difficult in July and August to keep milk sweet long enough for all the -cream to rise. While the weather is very hot, unless one has a deep, -cold cellar, or a spring of water running through it, it is well to -<i>scald</i> the milk when first<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span> brought in. Have a kettle half full -of boiling water over the fire; strain the milk into a clean pail, -and set it into the boiling water until it gets scalding hot, but not -boiling. Be sure and remove it before it rises in <i>wrinkles</i> on -top. If too hot, the butter will have a disagreeable taste. The butter -is never quite as good, but the cream rises more rapidly, before -the milk has time to change,—a very important gain, and one to be -considered in case of a small cellar.</p> - -<p>In very warm weather, with no more protection than is generally -found in small dairies, it is not often possible to keep milk over -twenty-four hours before skimming. Every minute the cream remains on -the milk, after it changes, is an injury to the butter. Thirty-six -hours is the proper time for milk to stand, when the weather is cool -enough to keep it sweet. Some keep it forty-eight hours, on the plea -that more butter is secured. We doubt if it is so; but whatever is -gained in quantity, by keeping milk so long unskimmed, is certainly -lost in quality. Many think it important to keep the cream till -<i>ripe</i>, or sour, before churning. We think it a mistake, if good, -sweet butter is the thing sought. In cool weather we churn when the -cream is as sweet as that which is used for coffee. In July and August -the cream <i>will</i> sour, and the flavor of the butter shows the -difference. As soon as the butter “comes,” it must be well washed down -from the sides of the churn, and gathered into a mass. If very warm, -wash a piece of ice and put it into the churn, leaving the butter five -or ten minutes to harden before putting it into the “butter-bowl,” -which, with the butter-ladle and churn, should have been kept full of -cold water all night. When the butter is firm enough to work over, take -it into the bowl and throw in a handful of salt; we fancy it causes -the buttermilk to run off more easily; work out all the buttermilk as -gently as possible; too much working or rough handling injures the -grain of the butter.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span> This done, pour in ice-water; wash the butter -through that; pour off, and add more, till the water runs clear. Twice -washing, in a generous quantity, should be sufficient. Then taste, -and see how much more salt is needed. After the washing, press the -butter with the ladle till no water runs; toss it into a compact roll, -cover with a clean linen cloth, and put into the ice-chest till next -morning, when it must be again broken up, worked over, and packed into -a butter-pail or jar, pounded down compactly, and covered with strong -brine, in which pulverized saltpetre—a great spoonful to four quarts -of brine—has been dissolved. Cover the jar or pail closely, and set in -the ice-chest or a cool place.</p> - -<p>This method will insure good butter the year round. It is the -buttermilk left in most of our market butter that gives us so much poor -butter. If that remains, no brine or care can make it sweet.</p> - -<p>The Blanchard Churn is, we think, one of the safest and most -convenient, as the washing, salting, and working can be almost entirely -done in the churn, by turning the wings, or dasher, back and forth -half-way,—pressing out the buttermilk and salting it more evenly and -with far less fatigue.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XV">XV.<br> -MAKING CHEESE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">F</span>IRST, a dry, airy, thoroughly ventilated room must be provided, of -even and moderate temperature. It should be used for a cheese-room -only, and access denied, if possible, to all but the operator. It is -useless to attempt the work if flies cannot be excluded; and, when open -to all, that is impossible. The windows should be kept open in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span> fair -weather, but blinds always closed, to avoid currents of air, except to -admit what light is needed while the work is being done. Frames covered -with wire or mosquito net can be fitted into the windows, and a door of -the same material hung inside, shutting closely to exclude the flies, -yet giving admittance to as much air and light as are needed. If wind -and sun have too free access to a cheese-room, the cheese cannot ripen -properly.</p> - -<p>Cheese-tubs, cheese-knives (a long wooden knife for cutting the -curd), cheese-ladder, hoops, cheese-boards, or <i>followers</i>, -cheese-basket, bowl, and cheese-cloths made of strong linen, but woven -very loosely, and the cheese-press,—these are the necessary utensils.</p> - -<p>The months from May to September are good cheese months; some keep up -the work through October; but the cheese is more difficult to cure, and -will not be as good.</p> - -<p>If night and morning milk is to be used, strain the night’s milk into -pans, and set in a cool place. In the morning take off all the cream; -heat the skimmed milk to 95° or 100°, pour it into the cheese-tub with -the morning’s milk, and stir in the cream; add the rennet, and mix all -well together with the long wooden cheese-knife or a wooden spoon; -cover the tub with a close-fitting cover, and spread over that a thick -cheese-blanket, to keep in the heat while the curd is forming. The -milk, when drawn from the cows, is from 85° to 90°, and until the curd -is well set, it should not lose more than from five to seven degrees -of its natural heat. See that the cows are driven to and from their -pasture gently; for, if they get overheated, the milk will rise above -the natural heat, and must be cooled off before the rennet is stirred -in; as, if the milk, either from this cause or any other, is over 90° -when it is set, the cheese will be spongy and of very poor flavor, or -no flavor at all. If the milk is too cold the curd will be so tender -it will never become firm, but will bulge out at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span> side, and will -not keep. Be sure and ascertain the temperature of the milk always, -before adding rennet. If the milk is too <i>cold</i>, heat some milk -and stir in, until the whole rises to the proper temperature; if too -<i>warm</i>, wait till it cools sufficiently before adding the rennet. -The quantity of rennet to be used depends so much on the quality of the -article, that experience only can teach the exact amount to use. If -good and strong, two ounces is quite enough for sixty quarts of milk. -The curd will have set firmly in an hour or an hour and a half, when -it must be cut gently, first round the sides of the tub, then across -in lines, reaching the long wooden cheese-knife to the bottom of the -tub, each time about an inch from the last; then cut in the opposite -direction, forming squares, to give the whey an opportunity to rise -above the curd. Let it settle a few minutes. Then throw over the tub a -large square <i>cheese-cloth</i>, or strainer, and after the curd has -settled and the whey risen to the top, sink the strainer into it and -dip off the whey as closely as it can be done. The strainer is then -spread over a square <i>splint</i> cheese-basket, woven very loose and -open, and the basket set on the cheese-<i>ladder</i>, which is laid -across another tub. The curd must now be cut into small pieces gently, -and put into the strainer. The corners of the cloth are then gathered -up and twisted tightly together, and a flat, smooth stone, kept for -that purpose, of about twelve or fifteen pounds’ weight, laid upon it, -to press the whey from the curd. It should stand an hour; and, while -draining, such things as will be no more needed to finish the work for -the day can be washed, scalded, and set out to dry; for, of course, hot -water is always ready.</p> - -<p>The curd when ready is removed to a large wooden cheese-bowl, cut in -slices, and a pail of the whey heated to 120° or 130° is poured over -it. Great judgment and care are required here, as, if scalded too much, -it makes the cheese<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span> hard; if not enough, the cheese will spread and -crack. The hot whey should be left on till the curd will “squeak”—as -the children used to call it—when bitten; then returned again to the -strainer and basket, to drain free of the hot whey. This done, cut it -up again fine; put in the salt, and thoroughly stir it in. The taste is -the best criterion to judge of the quantity,—about six ounces to every -fifteen pounds of curd is a fair estimate. A cheese-cloth must now be -laid over the hoop; the curd dipped into it, pressed down, but heaped -up in the centre; the corners of the cloth folded smoothly over, and -the first cheese-board, with holes all through it, put on; one a size -smaller laid over that; and the cheese thus prepared is ready to be -put into the press, and subjected to a pressure of from forty to sixty -pounds, according to the size of the cheese. It should remain in the -press two or three hours. If the whey, which is now pressed out, is of -a slightly greenish color, the curd has been properly prepared; but if -it is white, like milk, the curd was formed imperfectly, and the cheese -will not be of the first quality.</p> - -<p>When the cheese has remained in the press for about two hours, some -advise to take it from the hoop and let it stand an hour in hot whey, -to harden the skin. We do not like the idea, and fancy much fine flavor -would be lost from the cheese.</p> - -<p>We should simply put it into a dry cheese-cloth and return it to the -press, to remain till next morning. In changing the cloth, if any rind -presses over the top of the hoop, cut it off smoothly and turn that -side of the cheese down. Leave it now until the next morning in the -same cloth; only it is well to turn it over in the press several times -in the course of the day.</p> - -<p>When taken from the press the last time, a piece of cheap muslin should -be soaked in hot butter and fitted over the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span> top and bottom, and a -band, also wet in butter, bound tight round the cheese and sewed to the -edges of the top and bottom covers. The cheese is then placed on the -shelf. It will need rubbing with butter every day for some weeks, and -must be turned over every day for several months, washing the shelf -clean each time, and changing the place so that the shelf may get well -dried.</p> - -<p>If the whey is saved, in twenty-four hours a thick creamy substance -will rise, which, if skimmed off and churned, forms butter very -quickly, and is excellent to dress the cheese with,—a great economy, -and better for the cheese than table butter. Put some of the butter -into a tin dish kept for that purpose; throw in a small red pepper, and -put it over the fire till boiling hot, then set aside for dressing, -leaving the pepper in.</p> - -<p>These directions give the general idea of making cheese. There are many -varieties of cheese, which it would be very interesting to notice, -pointing out in what the difference consists; but we cannot appropriate -more space to this matter.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVI">XVI.<br> -A TROUBLESOME QUESTION.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“O</span>NE of the most urgent of the unsolved, irrepressible questions of the -times,” says the “Household,” a most excellent Vermont paper, “relates -to the trials which modern housewives experience in their efforts to -manage their households satisfactorily, and still have time for needful -rest and social culture. As yet the problem remains a puzzle alike -to the housewife and to the philanthropist. Labor-saving machines, -which promised so much relief, practically<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span> fail to lighten materially -the housekeeper’s tasks. ‘Biddy’ is still the main dependence in the -performance of hard work in the kitchen; yet the constant oversight -which she usually requires often renders her services a doubtful -advantage.</p> - -<p>“That the cares of housekeeping increase faster than means are found -for their disposal seems generally true. Whether this is owing -to increased luxuriousness in our ways of living, or whether the -housewives of to-day lack the executive ability of their grandmothers, -remains an open question.”</p> - -<p>It does not seem to us very difficult to find the <i>reasons</i> for -the great increase of our domestic cares; the puzzle is to find the -<i>remedy</i>.</p> - -<p>We escape much of the hard work our mothers and grandmothers performed -so energetically, and about which housekeepers of the present day -hear so many disparaging comparisons; for machinery does better and -far more expeditiously many things that in olden times could only be -accomplished by hard labor.</p> - -<p>The wool is no longer carded by hand. Our factories have banished the -spinning-wheel from the good old kitchen fireside; the little ones -nestle no longer by mother’s knee, watching with never-ceasing wonder -and enjoyment the “head” of flax disappear from the distaff and become -a smooth, bright thread, under the skillful hand and foot that keep -the pretty wheel so active. The cool breeze, laden with the perfume -of cinnamon-roses and lilacs, while it sweeps through the open window -of the old attic, no longer sports with golden curls, as the children -run merry races in their efforts to “keep step” when the long white -rolls of wool in the hand of the mother are transformed by the rapid -revolutions of the big wheel into yarn for knitting. Little hands no -longer wind it, from the spindle on the swifts, into skeins, or fill -the bobbins for the weaver’s shuttle, and no bright eyes watch it as it -flies through the warp.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span></p> - -<p>The mothers escape the labor of the loom, while the little folks lose -all this, or the still greater sport of meddling with the web, in their -vain efforts to throw the shuttle through, or to <i>bang up</i> if they -succeed,—the frolic often cut short by <i>banging</i> their fingers, -instead of the woof, with the heavy beam. Machinery relieves us from -all such labor, and deprives our children of much real fun, for which -there is no compensation.</p> - -<p>We almost regret those old-fashioned times, and often wonder if the -elegancies and (supposed) increased comforts of our modern dwellings -are a sufficient compensation for the multiplied labor and the -necessity for so much more help which we are forced to employ. For -though our mothers and grandmothers did more rough, homely work, -we do not believe that they had half so hard a time in doing it as -their daughters have in their efforts to teach modern servants how to -perform the necessary labor of our present style of housekeeping. To -weave a web of cloth is but child’s play, compared to the worry and -disappointment and mortification that cause our modern housekeepers to -“die deaths daily,” through the utter incompetency of those they are -compelled to have about them. The tyranny of our modern style of living -increases the proper amount of work to be done far beyond what one pair -of hands can perform.</p> - -<p>We think the deterioration is in the <i>servants</i>, and not in the -mistresses. With all loving respect for our mothers and grandmothers, -we feel confident that their daughters’ executive ability is equal to -their own.</p> - -<p>To be sure, husbands will tell of their mothers’ gingerbread, pies, and -doughnuts, and, with an air of hopeless longing or patient endurance, -wonder why nobody “nowadays” can ever cook as their mothers did!</p> - -<p>To be sure! Why can’t they? For the very reason that our husbands -cannot eat “ever so many” pickles, pies,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span> gingerbread, and big bowls -of bread and milk, as they used to do on returning from school; finish -off with a pocketful of apples, and then be half ready to cry that -their containing powers are not equal to their appetites. A good game -of “tag,” however, up the front stairs, down the back, through the -long hall once or twice, soon remedied that difficulty in boyhood. If -husbands will only let their brains run wild for a short time, quit -study, forget business, gold markets, and all such corroding cares, and -be wild, harum-scarum boys once more, their wives’ gingerbread will -taste just as good as their mothers’ and grandmothers’ did. That is the -trouble with the husbands’ appetites. But the housekeepers’ troubles -lie deeper than this.</p> - -<p>The whole routine of modern housekeeping is much more complex than in -our parents’ time. To be sure, they rose early; parents and children -then knew what “sunrise” meant, for they were dressed and at work -before the sun’s red wheel began to rise over the eastern border. The -cows were milked, the milk put in the cool milk-cellar, the butter -made, the breakfast ready—a good substantial, healthy breakfast—long -before the time when our housekeepers of to-day are out of their beds. -“Early to bed, early to rise,” simple, nourishing meals, quiet home -pleasures,—not many hours spent in senseless calls, but an occasional -good old-fashioned visit to keep the heart fresh and living,—these -insured health and strength, good digestion, tranquil sleep, and -cheerful homes.</p> - -<p><i>Early rising</i> facilitates the action of the domestic machinery -in a wonderful manner. One hour lost or wasted in the morning clogs -the wheels, and the work drags heavily all day. One hour gained is the -best lubricator in the world. Everything glides along smoothly,—head, -heart, and hands work in harmony.</p> - -<p>Once, when a little girl, we were in despair because our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span> “stent” was -not finished in season for us to go a berrying with the brothers and -sisters. Taking her kerchief from the black satin reticule that always -hung on her arm when knitting, the dear old grandmother gently wiped -the fast-falling tears, saying, “Ah, little one! you didn’t want to get -up this morning when the others did. Remember that if you lose an hour -in the morning you will waste half a dozen hunting it all day long, and -deprive yourself of much pleasure. I’d try and remember, if I were you, -never to lose another.”</p> - -<p>We regret, for their own comfort, that our present housekeepers do not -retain their parents’ habits of early rising. But contrast the life -of our parents with the modern life of their descendants. The demands -of society, late hours, too much visiting and company, make laggards -in the morning; and the appetite, injured by untimely eating at these -late hours, is supposed to need coaxing with dainties at breakfast. -The elaborate breakfast requires as much time and labor as belongs -to a dinner; and the dinner, with all the variety that etiquette -claims,—several courses, and a multitude of dishes consequent upon -these courses,—increases the labor immensely; and, unless blessed with -a good corps of servants, requiring little oversight, we can secure -little time for rest, reading, or sewing. Such servants are seldom -granted to mortals in our times. Twenty years ago, one girl, without -any of the modern improvements,—water to be brought from the street -pumps, suds to be taken up and emptied in the gutter,—accomplished -more work, and made the family more comfortable, than three or four -will do now.</p> - -<p>We are inclined to believe that the heaviest trials of housekeeping -may be traced, not to the degeneracy of our mothers’ daughters, but to -a marked and most unfortunate change in the character and capacity of -our “help.”(?) This is no freak of the imagination. Some few families -still retain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span> servants that have been with them for years, and such -housekeepers have no sympathy with their less favored sisters; but let -death or marriage remove these comforts, and compel them to seek others -to replace the old and well-tried ones, and they will learn that this -complaint has very substantial foundations.</p> - -<p>What remedy may be found it is impossible to say. In part our -housekeepers are to blame. They have such horror of being left without -help, such dread of constant changes, that they live as slaves to the -whims and caprices of an ignorant class of persons, who soon recognize -their fears and dependence, and use this knowledge to extort high wages -for very little service,—compelling then mistresses to pass over their -impudence and arrogance by bold threats of leaving.</p> - -<p>This lack of independence, this fear to assert their own authority -and rights, is, we apprehend, in a great measure the cause of the -insubordination and uselessness of the girls of the present time. When -they learn that their services will not be accepted unless faithfully -rendered, we may look for easier and happier times. But how is this to -be accomplished? A few cannot remedy the evil. It can only be effected -by general co-operation. We are not willing to acknowledge that the -housekeepers of the past were any more capable than those of our time; -but we do think that our position, owing to the great annoyance we are -subjected to from the kitchen cabinet, is far more trying than our -mothers’ could have been.</p> - -<p>What sort of housekeepers our daughters will become, enervated by -late hours and all the gay and strange excitement of modern life, and -crippled by the hideous freaks of fashion, it is painful to imagine and -impossible to foretell.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVII">XVII.<br> -WOMAN’S KINGDOM.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“I</span> SEE unrest, discontent, strife, and sin: I see girls—children in -years—from whose cheek the first blush of innocence, from whose soul -the last vestige of youth, have vanished; women sold to frivolity; -women wasting most precious gifts; women whose ambition has no higher -object than to mislead and triumph over men; men growing hard, selfish, -and wicked, the slaves of their passions, going down to death, with no -hand to save,—all for the lack of a <i>true home</i>. Then I remember -that the home is the true kingdom of woman, where her rights can never -be dethroned; that all pure love, all right thoughts, all religion, all -governments, if you would have them live, must have their roots beneath -its altar. This conviction impels me to say to every woman who has a -home, Let home stand first, before all other things! No matter how high -your ambition may transcend its duties, no matter how far your talents -or your influence may reach beyond its doors, before everything else -build up a true home! Be not its slave! Be its minister! Let it not be -enough that it is swept and garnished, that its silver glistens, that -its food is delicious. Feed the love in it. Feed the truth in it. Feed -thought and aspiration, feed all charity and gentleness in it. Then -from its walls shall come forth the true woman and the true man, who, -<i>together</i>, shall rule and bless the land.”</p> - -<p>Is this an overwrought picture? We think not. What honor can be greater -than to found such a home? What dignity higher than to reign its -undisputed, honored mistress? What is the ability to speak on a public -platform to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span> large, intelligent audiences, or the wisdom that may -command a seat on a judge’s bench, compared to that which can insure -and preside over a true home, with such skill that husband and children -“rise up and call her blessed”? To be the guiding star, the ruling -spirit, in such a position is higher honor than to rule an empire. -<i>Woman’s rights!</i> Has man any higher rights than these?</p> - -<p>To be sure man often abuses his power, and brings sorrow and woe upon -her who, trusting and loving him, should always be the mistress of -his heart, an equal partner in all his possessions, his joys, and his -sorrows. But are there no cases on record where “the woman Thou gavest -me” has abused the power with which the marriage vow endowed her; -destroying the peace, and making shipwreck of all that her husband -holds most precious?</p> - -<p>The law does not as yet secure to a wife such independence as will -guard her against injustice and meanness from the hands of her husband; -but what defence have they provided against the bitter sorrows that bad -wives can bring down upon their husbands? Has any one ever ascertained -the full statistics, or clearly estimated the average? It is well, no -doubt, that this matter has been so widely agitated, as it all tends, -we hope, to establish the rights of both man and woman on a firm -foundation; but if, before this “revolution” is settled, man should -make a full statement of his wrongs, there are those who could bring -forward just cause of complaint in large measure. Ah! if husbands and -wives would always remember that, with them, as in other associations, -“union is strength”; that “united they stand, divided they fall”; that -<i>together</i> they should walk through life, <i>together</i> share -the joys, <i>together</i> bear the burdens and the crosses,—what a -happy world this would be! If it is a united kingdom, the wife accepts -the rough as well as the smooth of household rule, as her part of the -administration.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span> If able to govern without a “kitchen cabinet,” a happy -woman is she! But if not, she also takes the trials of the kitchen, -the disagreeable details which must form a part of her home life, the -vexation of spirit caused by the inefficiency of the servants of the -present time, and this is the dreariest part,—all great and increasing -hindrances to the perfection at which she should aim. But a good wife -will endure these infelicities till a remedy is found, remembering -that they are but a small part of home. The purest, sweetest, holiest -elements that constitute a home, if recognized and administered in the -right spirit, will enable her to forget these trials in the joy and -peace that is set before her, and to which all may surely attain, if -woman forgets not her high calling in a poor ambition.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the husband—the household king—accepts his part in the rule -of this united kingdom. Are his cares any lighter than his wife’s? -Look at them. The dust and toil and strife, the battling with the -great world outside, in whatever sphere his talents and duties call -him, to provide necessities, luxuries, or honors, accordingly as he is -prospered, for the family who are sheltered in his home.</p> - -<p>We think the joys and the sorrows, the crosses and the crowns, in -married life are about evenly balanced, and nothing will right all the -wrongs, and bring order out of the confusion of these vexed questions, -so surely as the shelter of a <i>true home, ruled by the true wife and -mother</i>.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVIII">XVIII.<br> -THE KITCHEN.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">U</span>NFORTUNATELY, many ladies have not health or strength sufficient to -take such supervision as will secure a neat and well-arranged kitchen; -and, still more unfortunately, there are many, and we fear the number -is increasing, who have such repugnance to any care save the genteel -arrangement of their parlors, or the fashionable adornment of their -persons, that they shun their kitchens as they would the plague. -They will give occasional directions for some fancy dish, or the -more elaborate details, if preparing for company; and then, if their -husbands attend to the marketing, relieving them from all care, and the -cook and waiter have breakfast, dinner, and tea at the desired time and -in proper shape, they are content. If their parlors and chambers appear -neat and inviting, they ask no questions as to the condition of their -kitchens, and never inquire if the supply of utensils is adequate to -the amount and quality of the labor the cook is expected to perform, -or if they are of a kind to expedite or simplify her work. Indeed, -one would suppose that the kitchen was entirely out of the mistress’s -domains,—a region for which the cook only was responsible. If any are -content to eat what is set before them, “asking no questions,”—not -“for conscience’ sake,” but for the sake of their own indolent -self-indulgence,—that is their <i>right</i>, and we would in no wise -interfere with the full enjoyment of it.</p> - -<p>But we know there are those who find no bliss in such ignorance, but -prefer to know when and in <i>what</i> their food is prepared, and -willingly accept the care and, it may be, the annoyance which the -knowledge will bring. In many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span> of the most palatial abodes, where -comforts and luxuries of every character abound, little attention is -paid to any comfort or convenience connected with the kitchen. Refusing -to provide <i>straw</i>, Pharaoh exacted the <i>full tale of brick</i> -from the Israelites of old; and so some housekeepers exact the most -elaborate meals, without any thought of providing the conveniences -which will best enable the cook to gratify their wishes.</p> - -<p>We once watched with a sick child belonging to <i>the rich</i> family -of the town. The furniture, the silver and glass, were of the best. -It was necessary to prepare <i>wine whey</i> for the little sufferer -during the night. The mother, exhausted with much watching and anxiety -for the child, was sleeping, and, unwilling to wake her, we left a -fellow-watcher in charge while we found our way to the kitchen,—if -the miserable room could be called by that name. The floor was made -of loose, rough boards, that sprang up with every step; an old, -dilapidated table, minus one leg, was propped up on the back of a -chair; broken dishes, worn-out saucepans,—in truth, we were at our -wits’ ends to make even the simple <i>wine whey</i> in such utensils -as we found in that strange kitchen, and have often since marvelled by -what skill the excellent dinners and suppers we have partaken at that -house could ever have been manufactured in such a den and with such -“conveniencies.”</p> - -<p>Whenever it is possible, a large, airy kitchen should be provided, -with every thing to expedite and simplify the labor, and with every -facility for perfect ventilation,—a most important point. In the homes -of the wealthy there is no reason why the kitchen should not be in all -respects so arranged and furnished that the cook must be inexcusable if -she does not keep it and its belongings in the most perfect order.</p> - -<p>But for those who cannot command the means to build and furnish -a kitchen of this kind, the necessity for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span> greatest neatness -and order in that department is still stronger. The occupants of -second-class houses are often those who must themselves do or overlook -much of the heaviest labor of the family, and therefore have no time -to spend in the doubtful luxury of “clearing-up days.” Such days are -generally <i>wasted</i> days. Those who find them a necessity are -mostly a class who, for five days in the week, never put anything -in its proper place, leaving all in disorder till Saturday. Then -everything is hunted out of its hiding-place, washed, scoured, -polished, and put where it really belongs. The improvement is so -striking that one would suppose the kitchen would never again be a -scene of disorder and confusion; but probably before Monday’s sun has -set carelessness and misrule will have again regained their empire, -and taken unto themselves seven spirits worse, if that be possible, -than the first. And thus Saturday’s labor will have been given in -vain. There is not one servant in a hundred who does not need the -watchful eye of a methodical mistress to enforce the necessity of order -and neatness in the kitchen. If it is made and furnished in the best -manner, it should certainly be carefully kept; but if it be small, -inconvenient, and have a meagre supply of utensils, neatness and order -become an imperative necessity.</p> - -<p>Jules Gouffe, a famous French cook, says: “The more inconvenient a -kitchen may be, the more need for cleanliness, carefulness, and for -plentiful and good utensils to simplify one’s work. Cleanliness! -Cleanliness!—the great essential in all cooking operations—should, I -maintain, at the risk of being thought over-particular, be written in -large capitals on the door of every kitchen, large or small. A kitchen -may be small, badly arranged and lighted, but it should never, on any -plea, be dirty. Failure in cooking is often attributable to want of -attention to cleanliness. Nothing more than a dirty saucepan is often -sufficient to spoil the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> effect of a whole dinner. All kitchen utensils -should be examined daily. Saucepans of all kinds cannot be kept too -carefully; they should be washed, scoured with fine sand, and well -rinsed each time they are used. The washing of many things in the same -water should be carefully avoided; the greasiness this engenders adds -much to the labor of cleaning. The brightness and cleanliness of the -outside is very commendable; but the cleanliness of the inside must not -be sacrificed to that.”</p> - -<p>What would be Jules Gouffe’s sensations could he look into many of our -kitchens? What would our good housekeepers themselves say—those of -them that are not obliged to do the cooking for their families—if we -should tell them that the pans in which their bread is baked are seldom -washed out and dried, but are, unless thrown into the closet just as -the bread was taken from them, wiped with a wet, greasy dishcloth, and -bread baked in them over and over again, day after day, with no other -cleansing? Said a good lady, “What is the reason that the bottom crust -of my bread always tastes like rancid butter?” Examine your bread-pans, -and you will no doubt find the reason, to your great surprise and -vexation. How often, think you, is your molding-board set away without -being washed after molding bread or rolling pastry, and the dough left -to dry and sour on it, and the next batch molded on the same unwashed -board? “That can’t be possible. I saw it hanging up in the store-room -over the flour-barrel only this morning, and it was clean.” Turn it -over, under side up, before you speak with too much certainty. How -about the flour-sieve? Is it left in the flour-barrel,—thrown in with -the sponge, from the cook’s wet hands, upon it, or a piece of unused -pastry put in it? If so, when the barrel of flour is about half used, -you will find that it has suddenly become sour.</p> - -<p>Is it not well to watch over these things daily?</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIX">XIX.<br> -HOW MUCH IS A WIFE WORTH?</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">A</span> FEW weeks since, a party sitting near us in the cars were speaking -of a young man, a wealthy farmer, who had just disturbed his friends -by venturing to marry a poor girl. We judged by the conversation that -he had been well educated, and for wealth and intelligence was quite -looked up to by his townsmen. But he had married for love, not money or -position, and these friends were liberally using friendship’s privilege -to make rather severe remarks about him in his absence.</p> - -<p>First, it was <i>so</i> foolish, after his fine education, instead of -entering into one of the “professions,” to return to the homestead, the -quaint old farm-house, and taking the care of his aged parents upon -himself, settle down to a farmer’s life. <i>So foolish!</i></p> - -<p>But that was a trivial offence compared to taking a poor girl for a -wife, with nothing but a common, practical education, good health, a -loving heart, and willing hands to recommend her. With his cultivated -and refined tastes, what happiness could he hope for in such -companionship? But then he <i>would</i> be a farmer, and perhaps she -would be all that a farmer’s wife need be.</p> - -<p>We have often thought of the tone of this conversation. For what do -men generally marry, and what estimate do they put upon their wives? -How many really good husbands ever realize how large a share of the -prosperity of their home, its comforts and success, they owe to their -wives. The husband earns the money, it may be, but does he ever make an -estimate, a fair business estimate of what it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span> would cost, in dollars -and cents, to <i>buy</i> the care and comforts that he receives through -his wife’s labors, whatever may be their standing in the community? -Particularly is this a pertinent question in regard to a farmer’s wife.</p> - -<p>While this subject and the conversation just alluded to were fresh in -mind, we chanced to pick up a stray paper which spoke quite clearly on -some of the points in question. We subjoin a few sentences. They may -not come exactly under the head of “talks with young housekeepers,” but -they certainly belong to the “Household.” Besides, while we are on such -intimate terms with the wife, common courtesy demands that some little -attention should be paid to the husband.</p> - -<p>“We will for the present leave out of sight all sentiment, all -reference to the little comforts and felicities that go to make up the -sum of domestic happiness, and come right to the practical question, -‘Does a young woman, who comes to her husband with little or no dowry, -but with willing heart and hands and a fair share of intelligence, who -takes care of him, of his house, and of his family as it increases, -often without any hired help, really earn anything more than her board -and clothing?’</p> - -<p>“No man will deny that a good wife is a treasure. Her care and labor -certainly secure him many comforts; but how much would he consider them -worth in dollars and cents? It is a great comfort to a husband to have -his three meals a day properly cooked and prepared at hours that suit -his convenience. He can swallow a dinner in twenty or thirty minutes, -that it has taken most of the wife’s forenoon to prepare. He thinks it -a good dinner; but how high an estimate think you would he put upon the -labor of preparing it, if required to state the worth in money?</p> - -<p>“With what astonishment and disgust would he look upon his table if set -with dishes that had not been washed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span> since last used; but how high a -money value would he be willing to put upon the one unromantic item -of washing dishes, which, nevertheless, takes so large a share of a -woman’s time?</p> - -<p>“With what satisfaction he puts on the clean, smoothly ironed shirt and -the nicely darned socks! They do not look much like the ones he pulls -off to throw into the wash.</p> - -<p>“Some one had to rub pretty smartly to get the dirt all out; some one -strained over the hot flat-irons to make this shirt so glossy; some -one spent an hour, perhaps while he slept, to darn those unsightly -holes in the heels of these stockings. And if a farmer, it was his -wife most probably that did it all; and not this one week only, but -every week, as sure as the week comes round. Now, he does appreciate -cleanliness, notwithstanding his protestations against washing-days -and house-cleaning; but is he willing to own that it is worth anything -<i>in money</i> if done by his wife?</p> - -<p>“Then comes the case of the milk and butter. Every day it must be -attended to at the proper time, the cream churned, the butter made -and carefully worked and salted. He is proud that his wife makes good -butter, and quite happy to have customers tell him, ‘Your wife makes -better butter than any one round here.’ But then, are not the cows his? -Does he not furnish the food? does he not milk and take care of them? -Is her part really worth anything in dollars and cents?</p> - -<p>“Then, again, her energies are taxed early and late in the care of the -children. She is, of course, an interested party here; but then she -don’t pretend to own but half a share. Is it really worth nothing to -soothe, amuse, correct, teach, and watch over <i>his</i> half of the -little folks as well as her own? This is real brain-work. Where is the -man who will say that this care for their children does not require -all a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span> woman’s wit and wisdom? But if asked to place a pecuniary value -upon this part of a wife’s and mother’s care and labor, to how high a -figure, think you, it would mount?</p> - -<p>“A farmer’s wife, who really does her own work, or faithfully oversees -its being done, which is by far the most trying part, has no easy task; -but we would ask for her only what is justly her due. If there is any -standard by which her services can be rightly estimated, we would like -to know it. We wish to know whether there be any surplus in her favor; -whether, when she asks for a few dollars for some purpose not strictly -necessary (a book, for instance), she ought to feel that she is asking -for her husband’s hard-earned means, or whether she has a right to -feel that it is her due? How much must a wife credit to her husband’s -generosity; how much use with a free conscience as her own faithfully -earned portion of their joint labors?”</p> - -<p>Young men will do wisely to give this matter a serious thought, lest -they make the mistake of taking a wife’s labor and attentions as a -matter of course, as a right, instead of feeling that in taking his -name, his wife claims, not only an equal right to his cares and labors, -joys and sorrows, but also an equal right to a proper use of the money -which she has done her part to earn or to save. A wife, a farmer’s wife -particularly, has too much toil and perpetual watchfulness to make her -life desirable, if with it all she is to be considered a beggar, a -recipient of charity, instead of a joint partner with her husband in -all that he has.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XX">XX.<br> -TEACH LITTLE BOYS TO BE USEFUL.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">H</span>OW often, when anything has been said of teaching little boys to be -useful, have we heard mothers exclaim, “What an idea! Teach <i>boys</i> -to be useful! I wish you would tell me how; for of all the restless, -awkward, mischievous, troublesome comforts on the face of the earth, -I do think boys are the most trying. I am sure I love my boys just as -much as I do my girls; but it is so much harder to manage them, to keep -them out of mischief, to know what to do with them. They were vexatious -enough when we were boarding; but now, when, with four children on -my hands, I am but just entering upon my novitiate as a housekeeper, -feeling my way step by step, they fret me woefully. They are under my -feet all the time. Too young to be sent to school more than a few hours -a day, or to be turned out unattended, to play with chance companions, -they hang about me, uneasy, restless, fractious, teasing for something -continually. I often think it would be a comfort could we put them on a -shelf to sleep through the unquiet, turbulent period of childhood, to -wake up full-grown men. My little girls can always find something to -do, but the boys—<i>make boys useful, indeed!</i> It would be a true -benefactor who could teach mothers how to accomplish such a marvellous -thing!”</p> - -<p>Well, I notice that you very wisely and skillfully combine instruction -with amusement in your management of your little girls. I watched with -much interest how pleasantly you were teaching them to be useful, while -they found work to be only amusement. “I wonder which of these<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span> little -girls would like to run and bring mamma a few apples”; and away, in -great glee, trotted little three-year-old Kitty, with her little basket.</p> - -<p>“Would Mary like to help mamma pare this nice red apple? Which, think -you, can make the largest paring without breaking?” How happy the -little lady was to leave her play and make the trial! Why not make the -same effort to amuse and instruct your little boys?</p> - -<p>“Would you have me teach them to set the table, wash dishes, sew, or -try to work?”</p> - -<p>Do you not believe they can be taught all this as easily as girls? We -hold that, in a large family, each one, boy or girl, should be taught -to be useful; to help their mother indoors and out, and, above all, -learn to help themselves. This they cannot do if allowed to be idle.</p> - -<p>In the city, and in families that depend entirely on hired help, it is -more difficult to train children to be industrious and useful. It is -not well to let the young, imitative little ones be much with servants, -certainly not unless the mother is there also; and all instructions -of a practical nature should be given by her, and practised under her -eye. Wealth is by no means to be despised; but when it is so employed -as to remove all labor from us, or to so free us from care that we -do not teach our children how to make themselves serviceable, it is -no blessing, and may become a curse. Those who have begun life poor, -and worked their way to wealth by real hard labor, forget, when their -children start up around them, how much true, solid pleasure was in -their struggle for this well-earned prosperity, and as they relax their -exertions and begin to feel the enervating effects of wealth, they -remember only the hardship, forgetting the pleasure. Because there is -now no absolute necessity for it, they shrink from permitting their -children to follow in their early footsteps, and so cheat them out of -the strength and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span> independence for which no amount of gold can in any -way compensate.</p> - -<p>But we are neglecting the boys. We will give you an example which will -explain somewhat our idea of making children useful, boys and girls -alike.</p> - -<p>We remember a large family in which there were seven boys. They -were not <i>driven</i> to work, but from their earliest childhood -were, little by little, trained to understand and do all kinds of -<i>outdoor</i> work pertaining to a large farm; but it was also -understood that they were to lend a helping hand <i>indoors</i> -whenever the mother or sisters needed them. They knew they would only -be called in when it was quite necessary, but very early recognized the -importance of knowing how to do anything that came before them. If the -mother or sisters were sick or absent, they could so far fill up the -gap as to keep things comfortable till health was restored. They could -dress the youngest, make a bed, sweep a room, make a cup of tea or -coffee, broil a steak, or wash the dishes in a very satisfactory manner.</p> - -<p>When quite little, not old enough to undertake heavy or rough work, -they were allowed any amount of play, but it was expected that all but -the baby must do something useful, something that was <i>work</i>, in -the course of each day. So, little by little, as they trotted about -after mother, they gathered up many things which, in mature life, were -of great value.</p> - -<p>The family lived some miles from church, and as it was customary to -have preaching in both morning and afternoon, with Sabbath-school -between services, they took a slight lunch of crackers or gingerbread, -stayed through all, and returned in season for a late dinner and tea -united. Now it was a settled rule that the parents and part of the -children should go to church every Sunday, rain or shine; and the -oldest children, boys and girls, took turns in staying at home to get -dinner and take care of the baby.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span></p> - -<p>They all took great pride in having everything in order, and a good -dinner all ready, when the church-goers returned; and the boys’ -housekeeping was as creditable as the girls’. None felt it to be a -hardship; on the contrary, those who were too young to be left in -charge looked forward with great anxiety to the time when they should -be allowed to “take their turn” with the older and more favored ones.</p> - -<p>When these boys left home for school or college, a box, with scissors, -needles, thread, and buttons, was always placed in each trunk; and the -lost buttons were replaced and the ever-recurring rents repaired by -their own hands; and with the stitches went many thanks daily to the -wise mother who had taught them to take care of themselves, as well as -be helpful to others.</p> - -<p>Now, my dear young housekeeper and anxious mother, do you not think -your little sons would be less restless and fretful, and far more -happy, if you allowed them to “make b’lieve” that they were a most -important help to you, until, by a little patience and indulgence, you -succeeded in making the imaginary help a reality, which would repay -you in later years for all the slight inconvenience and annoyance you -experienced in teaching them, and insure comfort and independence to -your sons, under whatever circumstances they might be placed.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXI">XXI.<br> -BLEACHING, STARCHING, AND REMOVING STAINS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">A</span> YOUNG housekeeper writes us: “Without the least knowledge of domestic -concerns, I passed from the school-room into the position of a farmer’s -wife. Together with other things of which I am ignorant, I need some -minute directions for starching, ironing, removing stains, etc. Any -hints on these points would be very acceptable to me, and I doubt not -to many others. I can now succeed very well in managing the cooking -and butter-making, but am sorely tried about my washing and ironing -sometimes. With cooking and butter-making, my sewing and babies, -I have enough to do, and feel like evading the care or oversight -of the washing and ironing, but cannot. There are so many kinds of -stains,—fruit, tea, and grass stains. Then if the girl succeeds in -doing the washing pretty well, she makes such work with the starching, -and <i>smuts</i> the clothes so badly in ironing, that I am much -troubled. Whether not particular enough in cooking or straining the -starch, I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>We judge from this letter that our friend is obliged to depend on -“hired help” for her washing and ironing. We think we can show her how -to succeed as well in this department as she seems to have done in -cooking and butter-making; but whether she can manage to secure the -observance of our directions by the girl in the laundry, is another -and very doubtful question. One of the hardest of the housekeeper’s -trials with the servants of the present day is their unwillingness to -receive any directions or counsels about the mode of doing their work; -yet they seem utterly without any capacity to plan or arrange their -labor for themselves, so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> that it may be performed in the best and -easiest manner. They will be an hour in doing that which with a little -forethought or method could have been done in one third of the time, -and in no one item of household labor do they manifest their total want -of system so strikingly as in the laundry; yet they will not be taught -a more excellent way.</p> - -<p>With regard to stains, which are a grief of heart to all good -housekeepers, it is much surer and less troublesome to remove them when -fresh; and the eye of the mistress must watch over this, or they will -be left to dry, and most likely be overlooked when the washing is done.</p> - -<p>Most, if not all, <i>fruit</i> stains can be taken out if stretched -over a dish or pail, and <i>boiling</i> water slowly poured over them. -If the stains have not been allowed to dry long, this will speedily -remove them. But if they have, unfortunately, been put into the wash, -the soapsuds will “set” the stains, and then, when discovered, they -should be dipped in “Javelle water” or “bleaching fluid.” They should -remain in this but a few moments, then be well rubbed and put at -once into the boiler, and, as a general thing, when the article is -taken from the boiler to rinse, the stain will have disappeared. If -the stains from tea or grass are fresh, “Javelle water,” or a little -ammonia, will easily remove them; but in either case, if done before -the regular washing, the article should be well washed and spread on -the grass to bleach and dry. Stains that have been long dried, or -washed and boiled in before they were noticed, are much more difficult -to remove. Ink stains can be taken out of linen as follows:—</p> - -<p>Wash the spot in salt and water as soon after the ink is on as you can, -taking care that it is not put into suds before it has been well washed -in the salt and water, and then sponged with lemon-juice, else the soap -will instantly “set”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span> the color, making it almost impossible ever to -remove the ink.</p> - -<p>When ink is spilled on the carpet or on woolen goods, if attended to -instantly after the accident, it can be taken out entirely by sweet -milk. First, wipe off carefully all that can be soaked up by a handful -of cotton batting. Then have a dish of sweet milk ready, and dipping -the clean cotton batting in it, wash the spot, changing the batting for -a clean piece as soon as it gets black with the ink; and also get clean -milk, when the first becomes discolored. Continue this till the ink no -longer shows; then take a pad of hot suds and a clean cloth, and wash -as far as the milk has wet; rinse with clean warm water, and rub dry -with a clean cloth. We have never known this to fail.</p> - -<p>Ink spots, paint, or grease can be removed from clothing by mixing four -table-spoonfuls of spirits of hartshorn, the same quantity of alcohol, -and one table-spoonful of table salt. Mix it well and apply with a -sponge or brush. Wash off with clear alcohol.</p> - -<p>To remove ink stains from colored articles, drop hot tallow on the -spot; then soak and rub it with boiling milk. This will be found -effectual. Of course, the tallow and milk must be afterward washed off, -either with soapsuds or alcohol, else a grease spot will be left.</p> - -<p>Your oil-cloth should never be scrubbed with a brush, and on no account -use soapsuds or hot water. It has a bad effect on the paint, and the -cloth will not last as long. After sweeping, wash with soft flannel -and lukewarm or cold water. Let the oil-cloth get thoroughly dry; then -prepare a small bit of bees-wax, softened with a little turpentine, -and rub the cloth well with this preparation, using for that purpose a -soft furniture polishing-brush. This need not be done every week, but -whenever the oil-cloth grows dingy. Cared for in this way, it will last -twice as long as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span> with the ordinary scrubbing, and always look fresh -and new.</p> - -<p>A less troublesome way, but not quite so effective, is to wash the -oil-cloth, after sweeping and washing with flannel and warm water, with -sweet skim-milk, and then rub very dry with a clean dry cloth. Wipe -straight one way of the cloth, not round and round, as that will give a -cloudy, unpleasant look to the cloth.</p> - -<p>When clothes have become yellow or of a bad color from poor washing or -from lying unused some time, it is well to take them, after boiling, -from the first suds and spread on the grass to bleach, while another -boilerful is being washed. When the second is put on to boil, take -up those that have been bleaching on the grass and rinse faithfully -through two generous rinsing waters; the last water to be blued. Then -pass through the wringer, starching such as need it in hot starch, -unless you prefer to wait till you fold them, and hang up to dry. Then -take the second lot from the boiler, and leave on the grass to bleach, -while you get the coarser articles washed and on to boil. This done, -take up the second, rinse and hang out, and so on till all the white -clothes are on the line.</p> - -<p>Most servants object to the bleaching, and they wash all the white -clothes and leave them wrung out in piles in the baskets till all are -washed, before they hang up anything. This is poor work. The clothes -become yellow and streaked by lying in coils as they come from the -wringer, and under such management it is impossible to make them look -clear and white. The sooner they are on the line after passing through -the last rinsing, the clearer the clothes will be, and if well snapped -as they are hung up, and pulled straight and evenly on the line, -one finds compensation for the little extra trouble—and it is very -little—in the greater ease with which they can be folded and ironed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span></p> - -<p>It is well to bleach clothes while washing, all through the pleasant -weeks of spring, summer, and fall, as it can be so much better done -than in winter. One hour on the clean grass before rinsing is long -enough. It is not well to leave clothes out overnight when it can be -helped, as they are liable to be trampled over by cats and dogs during -the night, or be spotted by the drip of the dew or fogs from the trees -or vines.</p> - -<p>For <i>blueing</i> there is nothing better than the “Nuremberg -Ultramarine Blue,” which comes in pretty little balls about the size of -a small cherry, at from fifty to seventy-five cents a box. One box with -care, in a medium-sized family, will last several months. The balls -must be tied into a blueing-bag, and used like common blueing.</p> - -<p>A large fire-proof earthen saucepan or one of the yellow-ware pipkins -is better than tin or iron to make starch in; but if these are not to -be found, a tin kettle will do very well, if kept bright and clean, and -never used for any other purpose. When cooking it should be carefully -attended to, and then there is no danger of its scorching.</p> - -<p>Two even teaspoonfuls of starch for each shirt, a salt-spoonful of salt, -a piece of sperm or white wax as large as a pea, or, if these are not -to be had, that much lard or butter, is a good rule. Use enough cold -water to wet the starch, so that it can be stirred free from lumps and -beaten perfectly smooth, then pour on boiling water. It is not easy to -give the quantity of water to this amount of starch, as the tastes vary -in regard to the stiffness of collars and bosoms. The starch must be -stirred often, and boil slowly from fifteen to twenty minutes. Skim and -strain while hot into a large wooden bowl or earthen dish; keep a bag -for straining starch, which should never be used for anything else; but -it is safe to keep close watch, or towels, napkins, etc., will be used -for this purpose instead of the bag. It is not long since we found<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span> one -recommended as a <i>splendid</i> laundress straining starch through -a <i>shirt-sleeve</i>, which was tied about the wrist with a fine -handkerchief. A good starch-bag was hanging not six feet off. “Never -mind, my lady, I’ll wash it all out.”</p> - -<p>If you prefer to starch after the clothes are dried, wet the bosoms, -collars, and wristbands in hot water, wring very dry, and starch while -the cloth is yet warm. Rub the starch in faithfully, wring in a dry -towel to remove all starch that may adhere to the outside, spread the -garments out evenly, rub with a dry cloth, roll up tightly, and let -them remain two or three hours before ironing.</p> - -<p>In cold weather it is safe to dampen and fold clothes at night, and -then it is desirable to have the starched clothes ironed first. In -warm weather starched clothes should never be dampened or folded till -morning, as there is danger of the starch becoming sour and mildewing; -and unless there is a cool, airy room to leave them in, it is not safe -to sprinkle and fold anything, for they may mildew in a warm room in a -night.</p> - -<p>If any article needs mending, it is well to do it before ironing. -When ironed, fold and press each article neatly, and hang evenly on -the clothes-bars, leaving them there till perfectly dry. Fold shirts -so that the bosoms will not be bent in the drawer. Collars should be -kept in round boxes. Ladies’ undergarments should be folded so as to -bring the sleeves and necks outside. It is no more trouble, and it -certainly is pleasant to have a drawer look neat and attractive when -one opens it. It is what a good old grandmother used to call <i>sort o’ -restful to look at</i>. Skirts should be made not much stiffer than new -cotton. The noise of a very stiff skirt when one is walking is not the -pleasantest music. They should be either hung up in a deep wardrobe or -folded together lightly and laid on a broad shelf.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXII">XXII.<br> -TO IRON SHIRTS, VESTS, AND EMBROIDERIES.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">S</span>HIRTS cannot be ironed with ease and ironed well without a -bosom-board. It should be made of pine, well seasoned and entirely free -from gum; one and a half inches thick, one foot nine inches long, and -eighteen inches wide; very smooth and straight; rounded on one end, and -rubbed with sand-paper to remove all roughness. The square end must -also be smooth, and with a hole in the middle near the edge, to hang -it up by. Take two or three thicknesses of an old woolen blanket and -cover one side. Stretch it very smooth and tight, and fasten to the -board with tacks. Use the galvanized tacks, so that the clothes will -not be iron-rusted by coming in contact with them. When tacking on the -last side, be sure and draw both thicknesses of blanket very tight, so -that there may be no wrinkles. Over the blanket tack two thicknesses of -Canton flannel, the fleecy side up. Bring the edges of both blanket and -cotton over the sides, so that when nailed you can cut them even with -the other side of the board. Then turn it over and cover the other side -with thick flour paste, and stretch over it a piece of Canton flannel; -when this is quite dry, paste on another, and so on, as each becomes -perfectly dry, till you have four thicknesses of Canton flannel pasted -together on the board; the last one being trimmed so as to lap over -and be tacked on to the side of the board, thus making a neat finish -and covering up all rough edges. The soft side is to iron embroidery, -Marseilles vests, and other figured articles on; the hard side to be -used in giving a polish to shirt-bosoms, collars, etc.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span></p> - -<p>The bosom-board being thus prepared, make cotton covers to slip over -all, fitting as tightly to the board as they can and yet allow of its -being readily removed without tearing. Be careful to have these covers -changed after each week’s use.</p> - -<p>A skirt-board should also be kept in every house to iron skirts and -dresses. This must be six feet long, eighteen inches wide at the -bottom, one third narrower at the top, and one and a half inches thick. -The top should be rounded. Cover one side with two or three thicknesses -of an old blanket, as directed for the soft side of the bosom-board; -tack on smoothly; cover the other side with coarse cotton, and nail -over on to the edge of the board, so as to cover the raw edges of -the blanket. Have cotton cases also made for the skirt-boards, to be -changed and washed with each week’s use.</p> - -<p>Covers for the holders will also pay for the trouble of making them, -as they insure, as far as possible, against smut on the clothes when -ironing. But to make this <i>pay</i>, the housekeeper must be put -to the slight inconvenience of seeing herself that these covers are -changed, and follow up this care by promptly demanding them, when each -fresh washing comes up, to be put away with the other clean things.</p> - -<p>The ironing-table should be covered with a thick blanket, doubled, and -that with a cotton sheet. A coarse, thick, gray or white blanket, like -an “army blanket,” may be bought quite cheap; they come on purpose for -“ironing-blankets,” and answer just as well as a better quality.</p> - -<p><i>Flat-irons</i> should be carefully kept from dampness, which soon -rusts them. Leave them standing on the end; they soon spoil if set on -the face. If they become rusty, scour with emery till quite smooth, -or, if past your skill, send to an emery factory and have them ground -smooth. Keep a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span> piece of yellow bees-wax, wrapped in a cloth in the -drawer of your ironing-table, to rub the irons on in case they get -coated with starch. Have a clean cloth at hand to wipe them on before -using, each time you take a fresh one from the stove.</p> - -<p>Having our ironing-table, bosom-board, and other implements now all -ready, we will attend to the ironing.</p> - -<p>A perfectly clean sheet must be spread over the other ironing-sheet -before commencing to iron the starched clothes. In ironing a shirt, -begin with the binding at the neck; then fold the back in the middle -and iron; then iron the sleeves, and wristbands, if there are -wristbands on the shirt; fold the sleeve in neat plaits and press -them hard after ironing; then iron the plain part of the shirt and -the collar, if on the shirt, ironing the bosom last. Iron the bosom -and collar on the bosom-board; rub the bosom over lightly with a damp -cloth, and iron hard and quickly with a polishing-iron. If you have -none, you should get one if possible. They are found at all hardware -stores. They are rounded instead of being flat, like other irons, -without an edge, and very smooth, so that no mark of the iron is left -on the article ironed. This iron is very convenient to use for caps, -vests, and many small things.</p> - -<p>In ironing a shirt-collar, pass the iron rapidly over the wrong side, -then iron the band, lastly the right side of the collar, which should -be well polished, and ironed till perfectly dry.</p> - -<p>Gentlemen’s linen or duck pants should be ironed on a pants-board, -prepared like the soft side of a bosom-board, and as nearly the full -length as possible. The pockets must be turned outside before ironing, -that they may leave no crease on the pants. Hang pants to air by the -straps or the waistbands.</p> - -<p>In ironing a skirt, slip the skirt-board through by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span> round -end. Have a clothes-basket or clean sheet on the floor under the -skirt-board, so that the skirt may fall on it as you iron.</p> - -<p>Have a large piece of mosquito net over the clothes-bars to protect the -articles already ironed from flies, dust, etc.</p> - -<p>Cake-napkins, doilies, or towels that are fringed, must be well snapped -while damp, to leave the fringe smooth and untangled. Some use a -fringe-comb. This is very well occasionally, but we think, if often -used, it tears the fringe, and soon gives a thin, worn-out, ragged look -to the article.</p> - -<p>Muslin dresses need to be about as stiff as new muslin, the starch -being strained into the last rinsing water. White gum-arabic added to -the starch is very nice for muslin dresses; they iron easier, and look -newer. Dark muslins must be starched in rice-water or gum-arabic, as -common starch leaves white patches over the dark color after ironing. -Iron, as far as possible, on the wrong side.</p> - -<p>To make good rice-starch, boil a pound of rice in four or five quarts -of water; let it boil until perfectly soft, adding boiling water as -fast as it boils out, so as to keep up the same quantity of water all -the time; stir frequently and break it up as much as possible while -boiling. When the rice is as soft as it will boil, pour the whole into -a gallon of water and strain through a thick cloth. It is said that -eighty drops of elixir of vitriol put into three gallons of clear -spring water and one of rice-water, thus prepared, is excellent to set -the color. We have never tried it. Ox gall <i>we know</i> is good to -fix the color in calico or muslin, as well as to cleanse grease and -dirt from woolens. There is nothing better to clean broadcloths, coats, -vests, and pants. Get the butcher to fill a bottle with the gall, and -put four or five spoonfuls into about three quarts of hot soapsuds, and -sponge the garments with it, carefully rubbing every spot. When dirt -and spots are removed, sponge in clear hot water, and hang<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span> the garment -up by seams of the arm-holes of coats and vests, and waistbands of -pants, where they will dry quickly. Press on the wrong side when about -half dry. Woolen dresses may be cleaned in the same manner.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIII">XXIII.<br> -A TALK ABOUT BEDS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">A</span>S </span>we look around silently among the many young housekeepers, we think -we hear some of them say, or, if they don’t, they ought to, “I am -ashamed to ask any one into my chambers, for my beds are a perpetual -vexation to me. They look as if tossed up by a whirl-wind; the mattress -laid on unevenly, every inequality as visible as if the occupants had -just risen. The sheets and blankets never find their proper place, and -the pillows are as hard and knotty as if made of cotton batting. I try -to teach my girl how to do the work properly, but unfortunately am too -ignorant myself to speak with authority, and I have no doubt she is -aware of my deficiencies, so my words are idle breath to her.”</p> - -<p>If you don’t know how to <i>tell</i> a girl, go to the rooms with -her and <i>show</i> her how you wish the work done. That will be the -easiest mode for you, and more likely to be remembered by the pupil.</p> - -<p>“Alas! I don’t know how to make a bed neatly myself. I never attempted -it in my life, until I was married. Ah! if I ever have daughters, they -shall be taught how to care for their own rooms, and make their own -beds neatly, however rich we may become, or however many servants we -may employ.”</p> - -<p>That is wise and right. Though riches may relieve one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span> of much hard -labor, they should not enervate, or incapacitate for such an amount of -exercise as is necessary to secure a vigorous muscular development, -and also enable one, in an emergency, to step in and perform with ease -and independence whatever there is to be done. Riches cannot insure us -against a “hitch” in the domestic machinery now and then, and every -girl should be so taught that, in her father’s house or in her own, she -can bring “order out of confusion” by an independent use of her own -hands.</p> - -<p>It is, as I have said in an earlier talk, important that once a week, -at least, everything should be removed from the bedsteads in order that -all the dust and lint, which will lodge about them, may be removed, and -occasionally they need a faithful washing, to rid them of the dust and -lint which will settle in the slats, about the joints, springs, and -moldings.</p> - -<p>The mattress should be thrown up every morning for a good airing, and -when this is done turn it over, under side up, and then proceed to make -the bed.</p> - -<p>Making beds is a very simple thing. Every housekeeper may have -some rules differing from her neighbor in this as well as in every -department of labor; but there are some that are common to all.</p> - -<p>Having placed the mattress evenly on the springs or palliasse, beat -it hard to remove lumpy places, and next spread over the under sheet -<i>right side up</i>, with the wide hem at the top, and raising up -the mattress with the left hand, fold the sheet smoothly under at the -top and bottom; then fold under at each side, bringing the sheet very -tight and smooth across the mattress. By having a wide hem at the top -and a narrow one at the bottom, there is less danger that by any one’s -carelessness you may some time sleep with that part of the sheet to -your face which the night before covered your feet. Now spread over -the upper sheet, <i>right side down</i>; then as you put the finishing -touch to the bed, in turning the upper<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span> sheet down on the spread at -the top, the right side of the hem will be outside. In spreading on -the upper sheet, bring it well up to the head of the bed, that you -may have a handsome, generous width to turn down; lay it very smooth -and straight, then put on the blankets, folding both upper sheet and -blankets nicely under at the foot; but bring them only so far up at the -head as will cover the shoulders, and not turn down doubled across them.</p> - -<p>The bed-spread comes next. It should be put on very evenly, the middle -fold of the spread coming just in the middle of the bed, drawing it up -toward the head about as high as the upper sheet, a full foot above -the blankets. Now lift the top of the blankets with one hand and fold -the spread smoothly under them, on one side of the bed, then pass to -the other side and proceed in like manner. By this mode, the spread -will prevent you from being annoyed with the rough blankets, should the -sheet get misplaced during the night. This done, turn the upper sheet -down over all, drawing it as smoothly as possible, and tuck all down at -the sides, between the bedstead and the mattress. When tucking under -the last side, draw the spread, blankets, and upper sheet as taut and -straight as possible, giving the sides of the bed as even and true a -line as you can. Now put on the <i>sheet tidy</i>, if you use them; -and they are desirable, even if made of cotton, and perfectly plain, -as after one night’s use the upper sheet becomes wrinkled and tumbled, -and the bed cannot be made to look as neat as one could wish. Then lay -on the bolster, well beaten up, in its clean, white case, placing the -pillows, which have also been faithfully beaten, above all, and dress -them with tidies, to match the sheet tidy.</p> - -<p>Some prefer to have the bolster put on beneath the under-sheet, in -which case the sheet is drawn so high up as to allow plenty of room to -fold under the lower side of the bolster, before turning under the head -of the mattress.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span></p> - -<p>A bed thus made will be smooth and level on the top, without a wrinkle, -and as square and straight at the sides as if boxed in wood.</p> - -<p>This is all so very simple, after one becomes accustomed to it, -that the old ladies, who have all the mysteries of housekeeping as -familiar and entirely at their command as the alphabet, will shake -their heads and vote this a very stupid waste of time and space; but -they have forgotten how acceptable minute directions were in their -young days. So we will encourage ourselves by hoping that some tired -young housekeeper, who has groaned over ill-made beds, may find a few -crumbs of comfort here, which will remove a part, at least, of her many -annoyances.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIV">XXIV.<br> -MARKETING.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T is very important that every lady should understand how to select -and purchase such stores as may be needed in her family. This knowledge -must be acquired in girlhood. Mothers should allow their daughters -to accompany them occasionally in their market expeditions, quietly -explaining, as they pass from one stall to another examining the -various articles needed, their reasons for rejecting or purchasing. We -are all inclined to put off, from day to day, this part of our domestic -instructions which our daughters greatly need; “we are too busy,” “in a -great hurry,” and “can’t be hindered,” by answering the thousand whys -and wherefores with which young children follow us. It is, to be sure, -something of an annoyance, but very trifling compared with the pleasure -our daughters will take in going with us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span> through our daily rounds, if -we begin this training while they are small. Let them occasionally make -a few purchases themselves; give them their choice from among certain -unimportant articles, and then explain the rule by which they will know -how to select the best or reject the imperfect. Such lessons must begin -early, or, ere we are aware, our little girl has discarded her dolls -and stands by our side, a lovely woman; and before we realize this -bewildering change the voice of the charmer has awaked another love in -her heart, for which she leaves father and mother for a new home and -new cares. Happy for us, if we have so taught her that this new yoke -shall be easy and these new burdens light.</p> - -<p>In marketing, we would not advise roaming from one store or market to -another, after one has become sufficiently acquainted in a city or -village to have a correct idea of the quality of the produce and the -character of the vender. Until this knowledge is well acquired, it -is important for one’s own security to make trial of many; but when -well assured that you have gained a fair estimate of both quality and -character, it is, we think, better to make most of the purchases at one -place. The grocer, butcher, fish and poultry dealer will take greater -interest in faithfully serving a regular customer, at reasonable rates, -than one who may not buy of him again for weeks; and it certainly is a -greater saving of time and trouble to purchase of one than of many. If -they cannot supply your present needs, it is for their interest to send -out and procure what you want; and we think they generally do this with -pleasure, and with a hearty wish to give you the best.</p> - -<p>In buying <i>Beef</i>, remember that ox beef is the best. The animal -should be five or six years old before it is killed, if you would have -the best beef. If well fed it will be fine grained; the lean should be -of a bright red color, and well<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span> mingled with fat. If there is not a -good quantity of fat running through it, the beef will be tough and not -well flavored. The fat should be a rich clear white, just tinged with -yellow, and firm, and the suet also. Heifer or cow beef is paler than -ox beef, firmer grained, the fat a clear white, and the bones smaller, -but it is not as rich or juicy. When the animal is too old or badly -fed, it is of a dark red, the fat skinny and tough, and in very old -beef a horny substance will be found running through the ribs. When it -is pressed, if the meat rises quickly from the finger it is good; but -if the finger-dent rises slowly or not at all, do not buy it; it is -poor meat. The sirloin and the middle ribs are the best for roasting. -If you buy a sirloin, have it cut from the “chump end,” which has a -good undercut or fillet. The rump is often preferred by epicures, but -being too large to roast whole, a roast is usually cut from what is -called the “chump end.” Porter-house steak is the best for broiling, -but not the most economical. One rib is too small for baking; it dries -in cooking, and is not good economy, unless you take out the bone, roll -the meat and stuff it, when it makes a nice dish for a small family.</p> - -<p><i>Veal</i> should be small and white, the kidney well covered with -fat. If the calf is over ten weeks old the meat will be coarse. The -flesh should be dry and white. If coarse-grained, moist, and clammy, -have nothing to do with it. The fillet, loin, and shoulder are the -best for roasting. The breast, well cut and jointed, makes a fine stew -or pot-pie, and is better economy than when baked or roasted. Veal is -excellent to make “stock” for soups; the knuckle or the poorer parts of -the neck are just as good for soup as the more expensive parts.</p> - -<p><i>Mutton</i> should be dark colored, and have plenty of fat. The -color determines the age, and age is considered a mark of excellence -in mutton. It should be five or six years old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span> to satisfy a lover of -mutton. All the joints may be roasted but the saddle, and next to that, -the haunch; the leg and loin undivided are the best; chops are cut from -the loin, cutlets from the leg, the best end of the neck, or thick end -of the loin. The leg and neck are often boiled.</p> - -<p><i>Lamb</i> should be small, pale red, and fat. It is best roasted. The -leg, when the lamb attains a good size, is excellent boiled.</p> - -<p><i>Pork</i> should never be bought except from a butcher whose honesty -you are sure of, and who knows where the pork was fattened. It is not -a very healthful meat at the best, and none should be used unless -corn-fed. There is much bad or diseased pork sold, and it is very -dangerous food. If the flesh feels flabby or clammy to the touch, it is -not good, and should not on any account be used. If there are kernels -in the fat, let it alone. The fat should be hard, the lean white and -fine in the grain, and the rind thin and smooth.</p> - -<p>As soon as your meat of any kind is brought home from the butcher’s, -wipe it with a clean dry cloth. If in summer you find any “fly-blows,” -which is very common, cut them out at once, and no harm will be done. -In the loins a long pipe runs by the bone; that should be taken out -immediately, or in a few hours it will taint and spoil the whole joint. -If the meat is not to be used at once, dredge it with pepper. Powdered -charcoal dusted over meat will help to keep it sweet, or will remove -any taint already begun. It is wise to keep charcoal on hand during -warm weather; it is wonderfully efficacious in preserving meat, and, -if dusted over it while hanging, it can all be washed off when you -are ready to cook it. Most meat is more tender and easily digested -if kept hanging some time, and charcoal is a great and reliable aid -in preserving it. Lamb and veal cannot be kept as safely as beef and -mutton.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span></p> - -<p>In choosing <i>Fowls</i>, bear in mind that the male bird, if young, -will have a smooth leg and a short spur, eyes bright and full, feet -supple. The hen may be judged by the same signs, and if these are not -found, be sure the birds are stale and old.</p> - -<p>Ducks, geese, and pigeons should have pliable feet; if stiff, they are -old. In all the vent should be firm; if discolored or flabby, they are -stale. This last sign should be remembered in judging of all poultry or -game.</p> - -<p>The eyes of <i>Fish</i> should be bright, the gills clear red, body -stiff, and smell not unpleasant,—or rather, not stale, for we imagine -that fish can never be of a pleasant smell, however palatable it may be -to the taste.</p> - -<p>As far as possible, buy all stores by the quantity; if nothing else, -you save the weight of paper, no small item in the course of a year; -but there is always some reduction when an article is purchased at -wholesale. You save the retail commission, if nothing more.</p> - -<p>In warm weather, meats, of course, cannot be bought in large -quantities, unless for a large family who are in possession of a good -ice-house. Rice, tapioca, raisins, etc., are an exception to this -rule, for they should never be bought in large quantities, except for -boarding-houses or hotels, as they are very easily filled with insects.</p> - -<p>A store-room should be very dry, and supplied with a good number of -shelves and drawers for stores of all kinds. A thick slab should be -placed across from one end to the other, so high that nothing suspended -from it will hit the head in passing through it. In this it is well -to have some strong hooks to hang hams, dried beef, tongues, baskets, -etc. A neat step-ladder should be kept in one corner, by which you can -easily reach whatever is needed. These hooks are a great convenience, -not only to put away your marketing, but so many things keep better -for being suspended where there can be free circulation of air; and -a store-room must be well<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span> ventilated. Eggs keep well hung up in a -basket, or in <i>nets</i> made for that purpose. Buy your lemons in -June and July, when freshest, cheapest, and most plentiful, by the box, -and suspend them on these hooks in nets, and they will keep all summer.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXV">XXV.<br> -TRUST YOUR CHILDREN.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HERE is no lesson that so well repays the teacher as that by which -children are taught to feel that they are <i>trusted</i>; that father -and mother commit matters of importance to their care, with confidence -that they will not disappoint them. Begin this teaching while the -child is yet young. Of course you must gauge the importance of the -trust by the age of the child, taking care that you do not tax the -little one beyond its capacity, but being just as careful to have it -understand that you are in earnest. It is a great event in a child’s -life when it first feels that you look to it with loving confidence -for the performance of certain duties that you have trusted to its -honor. The feeling of responsibility which comes with this knowledge -awakens self-respect, and the care and faithfulness which the youngest -sees must be necessary to the satisfactory execution of the work -will be good seed sown, which in after years will bear fruit, amply -repaying all the trouble it cost to prepare the soil for its reception. -That such teaching is not the easiest duty one can accept, every -mother knows full well, and would much prefer to do the work herself, -if conscience permitted, than be subjected to the tediousness and -annoyance of drilling a child to do it. But this is a mother’s mission, -which it is not wise to delegate to another.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p> - -<p>When a child has been repeatedly shown precisely how to do certain -things, begin to leave these little <i>chores</i> for it to do alone -when you are not near. Let it be something trivial at first, of course. -Say to the little two-year-old, “Mamma must go out for a little while. -I am sorry to leave the nursery in such disorder; but Eddie is such a -helpful little man, he will put all the blocks and ‘Noah’s Ark’ up just -as I like to see them; and little Kitty, too, knows how I wish her to -fold the doll’s clothes and lay them in the drawer, when her play is -over; I am sure this room will look very nice when I return.”</p> - -<p>If this kindly training is begun early, do you not know how proud -and happy these miniature men and women will feel when this work -is intrusted to their care,—a token of mother’s confidence in -their ability? Of course, it may be necessary to be a little -<i>short-sighted</i> when you return, and pass over for the time some -few items that will bear improvement; but let these wait. Appear -pleased—<i>be pleased</i>—with their efforts; give as much sweet -praise as is judicious, to gladden their little hearts. It will be -time enough when the next trial is made to say, “I think I would fold -this little dress so,” or, “Put those books here.” Gentle hints, -interspersed with all possible approval, will fix the lesson, so that -you can soon feel safe to put the play-room almost wholly in the care -of quite young children, except the sweeping or other work beyond their -strength. But these lessons, as we said before, must begin early, else -the child will learn to prefer being waited upon to doing the work -itself.</p> - -<p>As your child can bear it, add year by year to the trust and -responsibility. Accept the labor as a love-offering to save your time -and strength, and it will not be long before willing hands and happy -hearts will really lighten your labors, and save you many weary steps, -while at the same time they are learning a lesson that will do them -good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span> through life. Vary the teaching, by sending the child, by and -by, out to do a little shopping,—some small thing, but such as will -call for the exercise of taste and a little judgment; nothing of much -importance, so that, should there chance to be a slight mistake, no -great harm will follow; yet so much that the child, by thus learning to -judge and discriminate in small things, will be preparing for greater -ones.</p> - -<p>An expedition of this kind stands out among the brightest of our -childhood memories. It was in a season of severe sickness both at home -and in the vicinity. Our mother was ill, the older children either on -the sick list or absent. It was quite necessary to send to the <i>shire -town</i>, twelve miles distant, where, in those “long-ago” days, the -most important shopping was done, and the foreign groceries purchased. -Father had his buggy at the door just ready to start on this tour, and -was making a list of the last items, and directions from mother, when -he was summoned in great haste to a patient. Here was a dilemma! The -purchases <i>must</i> be made; the patient <i>must</i> be cared for. -What was to be done? We were sitting in the south hall-door, playing -with the baby, so near to the sick-room that we could not help hearing -the consultation. Father must go to his patient; but who was to go for -the articles so greatly needed? The “tailoress” would be on hand in the -morning, and the cloth must be had for her work; a tailoress was an -important character in those days, and if we lost <i>our turn</i> there -would be weeks to wait before we could secure her again. That would -never do, for “the boys” must soon return to school, and their clothes -be ready, anyhow. What could be done? We heard the hurried talk, with -a kind of dreamy wonder as to how they would settle the troublesome -question; but, as one who could have no personal interest in the -solution, went on with our frolic with baby, when mother said, “Write -out a list, with full directions, and send E——.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span></p> - -<p>What a bound our heart gave! We nearly dropped the baby. <i>We</i>, not -twelve years old; and mother thought we could be trusted to do such a -big thing! We felt a half-head taller only to think that mother—bless -her!—thought us capable of it. Whether it was decided that we should -go or not was, just then, quite a secondary consideration, yet we were -“all ears” to catch father’s reply: “Send that child! What does she -know of buying anything? And this is a very important errand.”</p> - -<p>Ah! here our heart collapsed; we didn’t quite want to go,—the work -seemed so great,—but we did want father to think us as trustworthy and -capable as mother did.</p> - -<p>“If you think it safe for her to drive alone so far, I think you -may trust her to do the errand well, with suitable directions. The -merchants and grocers are old friends, and will not take advantage of -the child.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it is the only thing we can do,” said father, with an anxious, -dissatisfied tone, and this great responsibility was committed to our -care.</p> - -<p>How much we thought in that long twelve-miles ride to the town! What -anxious thoughts on the return ride, fearing that we had forgotten -something, or made some ill-advised purchase; but under it all there -was a dull pain to remember that father didn’t quite trust us, which -did not leave us until, safe at home, all the purchases laid out and -examined, he drew us to his knee, close by mother’s sick-bed, and -kissed us, with, “Well done, my brave girl! Hasn’t she done well, -mother?”</p> - -<p>How much good that day’s work did us, giving us courage when duties -seemed too hard for us, we can never estimate; but the most precious -of all was our mother’s trust and father’s approbation. It is only by -love and gentleness that a child can be taught to find real enjoyment -in later or important cares. Exact it as a duty; sternly command, -watch,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span> with constant suspicion and fault-finding, and labor is a -drudgery, and cares of any kind a terror to the young. The child either -becomes stubborn, or, if timid and loving, is so nervously fearful -of being blamed, that this very fear insures the dreaded results. -Ah, if young mothers could know how many hours of self-reproach the -grandmothers pass as they look to the time when their little ones were -around them, and see, too late, how many mistakes they made simply by -their own impatience, over-strictness, and want of confidence in their -children’s good intention and desire to do right, it might save them -from much regret, and their children from many temptations. But each -one must have an experience of her own. When young, we seldom are ready -to profit by the experience of the old, or think them of much more -importance than “old wives’ fables,” but when, after many mistakes, we -arrive at middle age, we are able to estimate their value.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVI">XXVI.<br> -WHO INVENTED BREAD?</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">A</span>MONG </span>the countless varieties of food, bread, in some form or other, -has been almost universally recognized as “the staff of life.” When it -became so truly a necessity, or who was the happy inventor, we know -not. How far before the creation wise men have pushed their researches -and discoveries, we have not the skill to ascertain. The first mention -of bread we remember is in the third chapter of Genesis, when Adam -was driven from Paradise and compelled “in the sweat of his face to -eat bread,” “because he hearkened to the voice of his wife.” Many -of his sons have, since their forefathers’ time, regained Paradise, -because<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span> they <i>did</i> listen to their wives’ counsels. We wonder -if men do not sometimes forget this, and cherish a little spiteful -vindictiveness, because through the first mother their prototype fell, -and he had to “work for his living.” Perhaps it is this memory which -makes them so restive under the present efforts for a recognition of a -broader platform for “women’s rights.” How silly, brethren! Let bygones -be bygones. Did not the curse fall heavier on us for our first mother’s -folly, than on you for Adam’s very ready participation in it? Don’t -bear malice! Help us up,—not above you, for we do not belong there, -but close by your side,—where we may do good to you, as you do good to -us. If Adam had not been off on a council committee, public dinner, or -at a club house, but working and caring for his farm in Eden with his -wife, we don’t believe Eve would have been tempted, or, being tempted, -would have eaten that miserable apple. But we shall never learn how -bread was invented if we linger.</p> - -<p>“Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground.” The -production of grain for food has always been recognized as the sign of -an advanced stage of civilization. Like most of the early traces of -progress, the time when grain first began to be transformed into bread -is quite obscure. For a long period the grain was eaten, when green, -either raw, boiled, or roasted. The Greeks usually deified every new -thing. Ceres was supposed to have first brought husbandry into some -regular system; therefore they at once constituted her the goddess of -Agriculture; and Pan, according to their belief, invented bread, and -was forthwith exalted into a god; but long before Ceres or Pan were -worshipped, the Egyptians cultivated the earth and made bread from the -grain.</p> - -<p>When the angels appeared on the plains of Mamre and foretold the birth -of a son, in Abraham’s old age, he hastened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span> into a tent and said to -Sarah, “Make ready quickly three measures of meal, knead it, and make -cakes upon the hearth.”</p> - -<p>Many modes of preparing grain, either in cakes or bread, are seen in -the paintings discovered in the tombs of the Egyptians; but doubtless -for many years the chief food was fish, flesh, or fruit. The Indians -used a kind of wild corn, when driven to it by the scarcity of game, -or if unsuccessful in hunting; but they never attempted to cultivate -it. They boiled it when green, or baked it on hot stones, or roasted it -by their fires, as we do the cultivated Indian-corn. Maize or Turkish -wheat and a kind of millet are still used, unground, among the poorer -classes in Egypt, boiled in milk or water, or roasted.</p> - -<p>At a later period, rude stones were made to separate the husks from -the kernel; and not long since, it may be even now, in the remote -parts of Scotland, a large block of hard wood was dug out smoothly, -and after the grain had been well dried, the barley or oats was beaten -in it till the husk was removed. When sufficiently broken or bruised -to loosen the hull, it was scooped up into the hand, little by little, -and blown gently with the mouth to remove all the husk, and then made -into pottage or porridge. It now seems a small thing to have all our -grain ground and sifted by machinery worked by steam; but how tedious -must have been the ancient process! The <i>quern</i> used in Scotland -to remove the husk and prepare the barley for use is supposed to have -found its way thither through the Romans, who always carried hand-mills -in their marches or raids upon other nations. It is very simple, and -perhaps the first kind of corn mill on record. “The quern was made of -two stones,” says Dr. Johnson, “a foot and a half in diameter; the -lower stone a little convex; to which the concavity of the upper stone -was fitted. In the middle of the upper one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span> was a round hole, and on -one side a long handle. The grinder gradually shred the corn into this -hole with one hand, and worked the handle with the other. Thus the -corn slid down into the hollow of the lower stone, and by the motion -of the upper was ground in the passage.” The quern acts so much on the -principle of our mill-stones that our mills might be called querns, -built on a larger scale, and run by steam or machinery. The meal thus -ground was made into pottage or porridge, being boiled in milk or -water, or “brose” when it was roasted, and boiled up in water in which -salt meat had been cooked.</p> - -<p>Who first conceived the idea of using yeast or leaven, or making bread -by any process of fermentation, or at what period it was first so made, -we do not learn. We know that the Israelites made leavened bread; so -did the Egyptians and Grecians; but who first invented yeast or leaven? -The Romans, it is thought, learned the art of bread-making, with many -other valuable lessons, during their war with Perseus, king of Macedon. -On the return of their armies from these wars, they brought Grecian -bakers with them into Italy. This was two hundred years before the -Christian era. Bakers were highly esteemed, and during the reign of -Augustus there were three hundred and twenty-nine public bake-houses in -Rome, chiefly under the management of Greeks, who were for many years -the only ones who could make good bread. They enjoyed many privileges, -and were put in charge of the public granaries.</p> - -<p>The making of fermented bread then gradually found its way into Gaul; -but it was a long time before it was known in Northern Europe. In -the middle of the sixteenth century, unfermented cakes were the only -bread known in Sweden or Norway. It was not till near the end of the -sixteenth century that the use of yeast was much known in Northern -Europe. About that period yeast from Flanders<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span> was brought into Paris -as a substitute for leaven. This change greatly improved the bread; but -in 1688 the College of Physicians declared that bread made from yeast -was very injurious, and the government forbade its being used. But the -shrewd Flemish people put up yeast in sacks to allow the liquid part to -filter through, and privately sent it to Paris. The excellence of the -bread thus made became so evident, that the College of Physicians and -their wisdom were forgotten, and the government’s prohibition quietly -allowed to sink into oblivion. Very soon this new and improved method -of preparing bread extended into other countries.</p> - -<p>Leaven is flour and water mixed to a paste and set in a warm -place—from 70° to 80°—till it ferments, first passing into the vinous -and then to the acetous state. Bread made from leaven differs from -that made from yeast by almost always having an acid taste. A piece of -dough, from well-raised bread, set aside on ice or in a cool place, and -worked into the next batch to be made, gives the best mode of making -leaven; and by working a little soda into it before setting the sponge, -will make very fine bread, without the acidity common to leavened -bread, if managed with care.</p> - -<p>Wheat bread is now common in most countries. The best and whitest -is made from the flour of the first grinding. <i>Gluten</i> is a -very important part of flour, and it is that which gives wheat the -superiority over all other grains, it being found only in small -quantities in any other. It is the gluten which helps to form the -adhesive paste essential to secure fermentation. It is common in the -animal kingdom, but rare in the vegetable, and therefore is sometimes -called the <i>vegeto-animal principle</i>. The more gluten the -better and more nutritious the flour. The loss of this principle, by -sprouting, mildew, etc., destroys the adhesive power so necessary to -making good bread. The best qualities of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span> flour take up the largest -quantity of moisture; the amount which can be absorbed depends on -the quantity of gluten. In dry weather, flour requires more moisture -than in wet, and long and faithful kneading will add to the power of -absorption, without making the bread too thin. Common salt and alum -are often used to give poor flour the tenderness and whiteness of -good brands. A little salt is good, but too much is injurious, both -to the bread and to the health,—alum still more injurious. Liebig -recommends lime-water in bread-making. A quarter of a pound of slacked -lime to a gallon of pure rain or distilled water, kept in closely -stopped bottles; two and a half pints of the lime-water to nine pounds -of flour, he says, will make a sweet, fine-grained, elastic bread of -exquisite flavor. The lime-water to be mixed with the flour before the -yeast is added. Of course, it will not be enough moisture for that -amount of flour, and as much more water is added as is needed. Liebig -claims that the lime will give the wheat a larger amount of bone-making -element, and therefore be more nutritious.</p> - -<p>Rice flour, or potatoes combined with flour, help to take up moisture, -and keep bread from drying. Rye flour makes a dark-colored bread, but -is sweet and palatable, retaining moisture longer than wheat. Indian -meal, mixed with rye, and a spoonful or two of molasses added with -the yeast, makes the New England brown bread; but to have that in -perfection it should be baked in a brick oven, and remain all night; -then, warm and fresh for breakfast, it is unrivalled.</p> - -<p>Graham bread is made from unbolted wheat, the bran not separated from -the flour. The coarse meal swells more in rising, and should not be -made so stiff as fine flour. It sours more quickly, requires a hotter -oven, and longer time to bake. Much kneading is essential to cement -together the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span> starch, sugar, albumen, and gluten found in wheat. It -is not easy to knead bread sufficiently for a satisfactory result. -Many machines for this purpose have been invented, but we have yet -to see one that can be as fully depended upon as a strong arm and a -skillful hand. The <i>hand</i> only can decide truly when every lump is -dissolved, and suitable combinations made. When the dough springs under -the touch, instead of clinging to the fingers, when the fist bears its -full impression in the dough, and none adheres to the hand, the cook -may cease from the labor. This labor may be lightened by pounding and -chopping at intervals, and with much benefit; but the hand is the chief -dependence.</p> - -<p>If the yeast is bitter, pour on water, and let it stand a few hours; -then drain it off, and use the thick part which has settled at the -bottom. The water will absorb the bitterness, unless it is from age, -and not because of too many hops. In this case, a piece of charcoal -heated through, but not so hot as to kill the yeast, thrown into the -yeast jar, will correct it; but we should prefer to throw away the -yeast, and make new.</p> - -<p>When all the rules for making good bread have been faithfully followed, -all will fail if not properly baked. We think nothing has yet been -found that is equal to the brick oven; but in whatever oven you bake, -one rule is common to all,—see that the heat is just right; from 350° -to 400° is the proper range for bread. If fresh flour or meal is thrown -on the bottom of the oven, and turns a clear brown at once, it is -right; if it becomes black the oven is too hot.</p> - -<p>We have been greatly indebted to Webster’s “Encyclopædia of Domestic -Economy,” and Professor Youmans’ “Handbook of Domestic Science,” for -our information on bread.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVII">XXVII.<br> -HOW ABOUT THE LITTLE GIRLS?</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“A</span> SHORT time since you advocated ‘teaching little boys to be useful’ -by training them to do, indoors or out, whatever, for the time being, -lay within the compass of their strength and ability. But now we wish -to ask, How about <i>little girls</i>? The boys say it isn’t fair to -call upon them to perform ‘girls’ work,’ unless the girls are made to -reciprocate the favor, and are willing to take their turn in doing -‘boys’ work’ when necessary.”</p> - -<p>Bless your little hearts, dear boys! Who objects to that? Not the -little girls, certainly. Isn’t it just what many of the <i>big -girls</i> are seeking to do, and the <i>big boys</i>—“children of -a larger growth” than you, my little man—are striving to prevent? -Where is the girl, unless she has by fashion and conventionalities -been unnaturally biassed, who would not gladly, once in a while, -exchange sewing, sweeping, and dusting for a run out into the free air -and glad sunshine, to take your place, and do your work,—feed the -chickens, weed in the garden, hoe the corn, milk the cows, or rake -the hay,—though modern improvements have of late cheated them of -half such pleasures? Anything that little boys can do, little girls -would think “such fun,” if they might occasionally have the privilege -of doing it,—country girls, we mean,—God help those whose home is -in the city! There are so few pleasures there that the young can -enjoy in the open air. To walk on hard, cold sidewalks, dressed like -little ballet-dancers, or ride over the rough pavements, with no free, -untrammeled movement, or through the dirty streets, with their vile, -impure smells, can give no such joys<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span> as our country damsels, with -their larger inheritance and more abundant blessings, are in daily -possession of. There is nothing equal to the pleasure our little folks -may find, in any kind of outdoor employment, that is suited to their -age and strength. These simple labors prepare them for larger and more -important duties, and the knowledge will bring abiding comfort and -self-reliance as they advance in age and intelligence.</p> - -<p>“Will not such work make girls coarse, romping, and hoydenish? Rough, -noisy boys are bad enough; would you have our girls become like them?”</p> - -<p>Is it the outdoor work that makes them so? Is it not rather the -overflow of animal spirits that can find no way of escape but by -boisterous, wild action? It is not very agreeable to the old and staid, -to be sure, and it certainly is less annoying outdoors than in; yet it -promotes health, and is only what we all did, or longed to do, in our -youth. Age will soon tame the wild spirits, or restrain a too exuberant -overflow, and nothing keeps them in check like pleasant labor. There -are, to be sure, sometimes unfortunate associations with really coarse, -rude natures, which are very objectionable. We would never allow girls -or boys to come under such influence if we could help it; but that -evil is to be found in every position,—as often in the house as in -the field,—and if not inherent in your child’s own character, the -influence will soon be discarded, the dross be separated, and the purer -nature rise dominant. You must go out of the world to insure safety -from such contact.</p> - -<p>“But country girls are not often ladylike and graceful; and work -outdoors will tend to make them still more awkward. I couldn’t endure -to see my little girl brought up under such influences.”</p> - -<p>We have never found in the city more graceful, ladylike, intelligent, -pure-minded girls than we have seen in the country;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span> but we have -sometimes noticed that those who live nearest to the city, or -have spent much time there, too often acquire artificial habits, -affectation, coquetry, loud, bold speech, or a fondness for dress, too -stylish for a truly modest girl’s adorning, that is seldom seen in -real country life. We do not think that any kind or amount of labor -will make one less modest or ladylike. We believe that our girls -should know how to do, with their own hands, everything that they have -strength for, and thereby secure and establish vigor and capacity for -duties that, in after years, may fall to their lot. We do not mean that -outdoor labor should be their habitual employment. We wish them to have -the actual knowledge; but the heavier work, which more appropriately -belongs to boys and men, should be undertaken by girls and women only -on an emergency. Then love or will, or both united, can make woman -strong to do the hardest work, if she has the knowledge, while the -necessity lasts. It is because such calls may be made on every one all -through life, that we would have each one secure the knowledge early; -but in extreme cases, the overstrain on a woman’s physical life, if -long continued, will compel the payment of large interest in later -years, and therefore should be undertaken through necessity only. -God has not organized man and woman alike, physically; nor, do we -believe, mentally either. We hasten to add, lest we should be arraigned -for heresy, that we do not say they are not <i>equal</i>, but only -<i>different</i>; the question of equality we wait for their own works -to answer. Woman has sweeter, tenderer, dearer duties, demanding an -organization distinct from that which fits man for his rougher, harder, -more extended, more public, but not more noble work. We hear of women -who have cut down their timber, built their walls, ploughed their -fields, or done the blacksmithing for the neighborhood with their own -hands, from choice,—a kind of work which we could not do, and would -not if we could,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span> unless driven to it by some pressing necessity; but -we should like to store up the knowledge how to do it against the time -of need. Still, we need not object if others take pleasure in it. Yet -will not their own bodies, when they leave youth behind and go down to -middle age, bear witness against the unnatural strain which they have -been subjected to? Those whose office it is “to replenish the earth” -cannot make these violent drafts upon their system with impunity. It is -not for a regular, daily occupation that we would desire to have girls -taught how to do their brothers’ work as well as their own, though -much that pertains to that will always be pleasant and attractive, and -light work in the open air will always furnish healthy exercise for -our girls; but we want to see every member of the family so educated -that there may never occur a vacancy about the home that some one, girl -or boy, man or woman, is not able and willing to step into and fill -satisfactorily. To this end, faithfully teach your little ones, girls -or boys, to put their hands to any work that is necessary.</p> - -<p>“Next you will tell us to let our girls saw and split wood, milk the -cows, harness and unharness the horse, etc.”</p> - -<p>Yes. Why not? They should know how to do all this, and do it well; and -try it often enough to feel at ease and without fear in the effort, and -that will be sufficient for the present. But suppose in a few years -your daughter marries, and goes from you to some distant settlement -where neighbors are scarce and “help” uncertain. Girls of wealth and -refinement have done such things. Let the monotony of frontier life -be occasionally enlivened by a real attack of chills and fever in -which all take a part. When husband and “help,” if your daughter is -so fortunate as to secure any, take their turn in <i>shaking</i>, -will not the wife look back to the time when brother Will and she had -their miniature saws and hatchets, and made much sport in preparing -the kindlings?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span> Won’t she see that the knowledge how to do this, which -was simply amusement then, has been stored up for real service now? -She little thought when grandpa taught her to milk old Brindle without -fear of the gentle animal, how she would thank him for it in this -far-off home. Are you sure that your little girl will never be placed -in circumstances, for only a few hours perhaps, when she would be most -thankful to know how to do any one of these things? Can you not imagine -circumstances where it would be an incalculable blessing? We can, any -number of them, not at all beyond the bounds of possibility. We have -known cases where it was almost a matter of life or death, that a lady -should have skill and courage to harness a horse and hasten for help. -These cases may be rare; yet if they come but once in a lifetime, is -not the lesson worth the learning? If you were driving a team—a very -desirable accomplishment for any young lady—and the harness should -break or become unfastened, ought you not, for your own safety, to know -how to repair the mischief? Every girl should early learn how each part -of the harness must be adjusted, else the pleasure and independence of -being able to drive when older will be attended with much risk, and -often with fatal consequences. Youth—early childhood—is the time -to secure this knowledge, that you may be prepared to use it with -confidence and self-control when needed. Even if it is never needed in -later life, <i>knowing how</i> will not injure any one.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVIII">XXVIII.<br> -STEALING SERVANTS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N <i>The Christian Union</i> a while ago, “Laicus” gives the history -of a transaction between two neighbors, in which he thinks the -indignation manifested by one of the parties was uncalled for, and her -objection to the proceeding of the other “but a relic of the old-time -slave system.” The case given was in this wise.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Potiphar, it seems, “picks up a little girl in New York, and goes -through all the trouble, discomfort, and anxiety of teaching her, until -she becomes, at last, a very useful and efficient servant.” Those who -have undertaken the training of young girls, not their own, will agree -that Mrs. Potiphar’s task was not an enviable one, and that the girl -owed her a debt of gratitude, which faithful, willing service alone -could pay. As the child improved under this training, wages were given, -until after five years’ education she received ten dollars a month. -Mrs. Potiphar, appreciating the good qualities the girl had developed, -failed not to give her ample praise; said she was “worth her weight in -gold,” an expression very common, yet not usually taken literally; but -she did not increase her wages. It may have been that she gave all that -the work demanded of her was worth, or all that she could afford to -give; it matters not which; it is no evidence, however, that she wished -to defraud the girl of her just dues; it argues no injustice on Mrs. -Potiphar’s part. But good friends, kind neighbors, behind her back, -said it was a shame to pay Sophia so little; while to the lady’s face, -however, they gave smiles and congratulations “upon her good luck.” -Ah, what a pity that gossiping, meddling, and backbiting should be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span> -found in this beautiful world of ours. How much trouble and mischief -these vices have caused! Much of the discomfort and disturbance in -our households springs from this evil spirit, making servants fickle -and unfaithful, and their mistresses’ life a burden. And it is all -so needless! There is little fear, even when not tampered with, that -girls will remain long on low wages, unless the privileges and kind -care bestowed upon them are of more value than larger pay, and they -have the good sense so to understand it. Every girl has a perfect right -to seek the highest remuneration, and so that she gives her present -employer reasonable notice, to enable her to secure other assistance, -or to offer her larger wages, however great the disappointment to the -lady may be, the girl has acted honorably and is worthy of no censure. -But in the case cited by “Laicus,” Mrs. Chessleburg’s course is so -repugnant, so foreign to all our ideas of honor, that we should hope -there was some mistake in print, did we not know such acts are of daily -occurrence.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Potiphar has an excellent waiting-maid, just what Mrs. Chessleburg -wants. Mrs. Chessleburg is much exercised in her mind because Mrs. -Potiphar gives the poor girl such low wages.</p> - -<p>“She is well worth fourteen dollars a month to me, if she is worth -a penny.” Four dollars extra would be quite an addition to Sophia’s -income. To be sure it would. So her nurse-girl goes confidentially -(<i>privately</i> we presume that means) and tells Sophia that Mrs. -Chessleburg will give her fourteen dollars a month if she will leave -the lady, who, five years ago, “picked her up in New York,” and has -taught her, during these years, to be such a desirable servant. -The girl goes, of course. Mrs. Potiphar thinks it mean “to steal -her girl away in that style.” <i>So do we.</i> Is it strange that -we think Mrs. Chessleburg’s desire to right the girl’s supposed -wrongs had its origin less in real benevolence than in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span> selfish -anxiety to secure a valuable servant for herself? We certainly must, -notwithstanding “Laicus’s” perplexity, join with the ladies in thinking -Mrs. Chessleburg’s proceeding highly objectionable, and are confident -employees as well as employers will agree in this matter.</p> - -<p>We read the article in question to the superintendent of our farm, and -said, “How does this strike you? How shall we answer this question? If -the girl’s work was worth more than ten dollars, was it not right that -she should have it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; but I shouldn’t think that was the right way for a lady to do? -Why didn’t she go to the girl’s mistress, instead of sending her -nurse-maid to the girl privately? I don’t think any lady would do such a -thing.”</p> - -<p>“Well! I think you are right about house servants. But on the farm, in -your position, for instance, as foreman, there is some difference, is -there not? Supposing some gentleman should offer you more than we do, -what would you think of that?”</p> - -<p>“That he was no gentleman. I don’t see the difference. If he wished to -make any such offer, he should go to my employer and state the case, -but not to me.”</p> - -<p>“But you are not bound to stay with us. If you can better yourself, you -have a perfect right to do so. You are a free man.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know that; but I think there should be some honor, if there is -no law, about such things; and I don’t think a gentleman acts honorably -who tempts a man with offers of higher wages to leave his employer’s -service. Let him go, like a man, to the proprietor of the work himself.”</p> - -<p>“Maggie,” said we afterward, “if a lady should send one of her girls to -you with an offer for more wages than I give, what would you think of -it?”</p> - -<p>“O, I’ve had that trick tried on me, ma’am! No <i>lady</i><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span> would do -it, and I’d not risk living with any one who would connive at such a -mean thing.”</p> - -<p>“Why, what would you have her do?”</p> - -<p>“Come right to yer, ma’am, or advertise. Sure the papers are open to -any one who chooses to advertise.”</p> - -<p>Now, this subject appears too clear for any question of right or wrong, -liberty or slavery. The same course—open and above-board—should be -plain to both employer and employé. Among business men this law of -honor is fully understood. The amount of wages in all employments is -well defined. Custom fixes the prices for specified labor. It is those -who offer beyond the accepted rates who cause most of the trouble -experienced in all classes of labor.</p> - -<p>A manufacturer engages a certain number of men to work in his mill. -He offers and they accept the regular rates of payment. A neighboring -manufacturer is short of hands, and privately goes to these men, -<i>bribing</i> them, for it is nothing short of a bribe, with offers -of higher wages to leave their present work and come to him. If their -ideas of honor are no higher than his own, they will probably accept -the bribe, and their first employer’s mills must stand idle until -he can secure others to fill their places. Would you not call this -dishonorable? This is acceded to in the outdoor world, among merchants, -mechanics, manufacturers, and farmers. But how much more sacred, how -much stronger, should this code of honor be to us, in the family!</p> - -<p>If we learn that a girl has “given warning” to her employer of her -intention to leave, we have a perfect right to try and secure her; -but to avoid the least appearance of evil, to do truly “as we would -be done by,” we should think it but wise and just to go first to the -lady and signify our wishes, making such inquiries as may be needed. -In the case given by “Laicus,” however, the nurse-maid is sent, and -offers of higher wages given through her. The girl is <i>bought</i>.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span> -We cannot think it acting honorably by the mistress or kindly by the -maid. If tempted once to act secretly, she probably can be again, and -from a useful, reliable servant may become one on whom there can be no -dependence.</p> - -<p>If this mode of securing assistance is accepted as a correct and -honorable practice, no one is safe. In every department we shall be at -the mercy of the selfish and unscrupulous.</p> - -<p>The laborer is evidently worthy of his hire, and in this country no -class of people are likely to remain long in ignorance of the price -they can command, or to estimate their ability at too low a rate.</p> - -<p>We object to no one’s obtaining the full value for his work, but claim -that there should be no meddling, no underhand work to buy servants -or laborers from another, by the private offer of larger wages. -Advertising is open to all, and brings the needed help to you; but if -you do not choose that mode of supplying yourselves with laborers, then -let the employer be applied to, and if you can give his or her servants -better terms than they now receive, there are not many who will not -advise them to accept the offer. We do not think that ladies enact any -such law, as that “no servant shall be offered a better post than the -one now occupied, so long as he or she remains in it”; but we do claim -that the good old rule should be as fully recognized in dealing with a -neighbor’s servant as in everything else, namely, “Do unto others as ye -would that others should do unto you.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIX">XXIX.<br> -FALL CLEANING.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE summer is over and gone; cold nights and mornings have so -frightened and subdued the flies, that it is easy to hunt them from -the house, and by a little extra watchfulness prevent their gaining -possession again. The sun, still quite warm and summer-like in the -middle of the day, tempts them out from their hiding-places, and they -will swarm in at open doors and windows, if unprotected by wire and -net frames, in great numbers. Take care that these safeguards are -doing duty whenever windows or doors are opened for ventilation or -comfort, else the skillful little manœuvrers will soon gain access. -Drive them out toward night into the cool evening air. A few really -cold nights will free you from these vexatious intruders, and enable -you to commence fall cleaning in peace and safety. The danger always -is, that this part of fall labor will be undertaken too early. The -first ten or twelve days of September are usually raw and cold. The -flies, crawling into warm nooks and corners, pretend to be asleep. The -housekeeper, forgetting the experience of former years, hastens to get -out scrub-cloths, brushes, and all the implements of house-cleaning. -Those whose homes are in the city hurry back with the first puff of -cold air, believing that flies and heat have both alike departed for -the season. But they soon learn that this is a great mistake. These -chilly, cold days are usually followed by ten days or a fortnight as -warm as midsummer, and generally quite unhealthy. Nothing but real -necessity should tempt any to leave the country before they have fully -enjoyed the most perfect month of the whole year,—<i>October</i>.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span> -But whether in city or country, those who attempt to do their fall -cleaning in September will have short-lived satisfaction compared with -the comfort derived from the same work in October. Flies, spiders, and -wasps, if not harmless then, are at least so far disabled as to be -easily conquered, and until that is accomplished, house-cleaning on a -large scale is wasted labor.</p> - -<p>The first thing to be done, preparatory to house-cleaning, is to -have all the chimneys thoroughly swept, and the furnace, range, and -grate flues, not only perfectly cleaned from soot, but examined by a -competent workman; especially is this needful if the house has been -closed or only partially used during the summer. Before real winter -weather comes, everything of this kind should be in perfect order.</p> - -<p>Have the furnace-grate examined, as it may have been corroded by rust -while unused, or so far burned out that, if neglected, some cold -morning when a bright glowing fire is most needed it may break down -and let your fire out. It will not be pleasant to sit shivering while -the old grate is being mended or a new one fitted. The range-grate and -fire-bricks must also be looked after and repaired for winter use. A -little attention now will save much expense and discomfort later in the -season.</p> - -<p>If carpenters’ or masons’ work, whitewashing, painting, glazing, -or plumbing is needed, it should all be done before any cleaning -is attempted. If left till afterward, this kind of work is a great -terror to housekeepers. To secure seasonable attention to all these -matters, it is essential that the mechanics who are needed should -be engaged some weeks in advance; but remember that such workmen -are, unfortunately, not as good in <i>keeping</i> promises as in -<i>breaking</i> them; therefore watch closely, and hold them to their -agreement. This habit of promising more than can be performed is a -very pernicious one, and in the end most unprofitable. Mechanics<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span> are -tempted to this dishonorable practice by anxiety to secure a good job. -Knowing the great demand for labor, they imagine if they promise to -do your work at a given time, come and do a little, then go to some -one else, leaving your work half finished, then back to you again for -a while,—the second party annoyed by the same vexatious delay,—that -your necessity compels you to endure silently if not patiently. You may -submit for this once, but never burn your fingers twice at the same -fire. Let it once be understood that employers of all kinds look upon a -broken promise as destroying all confidence, and that they will under -no circumstances give a <i>promise-breaker</i> a second opportunity to -beguile them, and this great trial to grace and patience would soon be -overcome.</p> - -<p>While repairs are going on, bring down all the woolen garments, -blankets, furs, or pieces of carpeting that have been stored away for -the summer. Take them out on the grass-plat under your clothes-line, -before removing the wrappers, for the preparation in which they have -been put away is not very pleasant to the smell, particularly if it -is Poole’s powder, which we think the safest as well as the most -disagreeable. If it is a windy day, hang all on the clothes-line for a -good snapping before you attempt to brush them, and most of the powder -will blow off. After an hour or two in sun and wind, brush them well -with a nice whisk-broom, and, when done, the garments and blankets may -be put in their proper places and the pieces of carpeting sewed up in -bagging or canvas or put into a spare trunk. They will need no more -powder till spring, if carefully stored and occasionally aired through -the winter.</p> - -<p>The coal, of course, you had put into the cellar last spring, as it -is usually cheaper about May than in the fall. The ashes and soot -having been removed, the flues, furnace, and grates all in order, the -house should now be swept from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span> attic to the cellar. Ingrain and -three-ply carpets ought to be taken up every year, unless in rooms but -little used, and after being well shaken or taken to the carpet-shaking -mill, they should be laid out of the way till the room from which they -were taken is cleaned. Brussels, Wiltons, Axministers, and all the -heavier carpets should not be raised oftener than every three years. -Very little dust sifts through such fabrics, and careful sweeping and -the use of a good “carpet-sweeper” will preserve them from all harm. In -sweeping, preparatory to cleaning, it is well to draw the tacks in the -corners and turn such heavy carpets back, so that with a whisk-broom -any dirt that may have settled there can be easily removed. It is but -little work, and the corners can be readily tacked down again.</p> - -<p>When the sweeping is all done, a most thorough dusting is the next -operation, so that wood-work, walls, and gas-brackets may be free from -loose dirt before water is used. The paint is much easier cleaned after -this than if the dust were allowed to remain and be washed off. Some -recommend the latter to <i>save time</i>. We think it <i>wastes</i> -time.</p> - -<p>The walls should be dusted with a long-handled feather duster, then -with a clean dry cloth pinned smoothly over a clean broom; wipe them -down evenly, beginning at the top and passing in a straight line, “by -a thread” as a seamstress would say, to the bottom, changing the cloth -as it becomes soiled. Next remove all chimneys and shades from the -chandeliers and gas-burners; wash clean, dry and polish with a soft -linen towel, and then with chamois-skin, and put them into a closet -till the room is cleaned. Now with a cloth, wrung from weak, hot suds, -wipe off the brackets and chandeliers, and rub dry with chamois-skin. -Draw a coarse linen thread, double, through the opening in the tip of -all the gas-burners to remove any dust that may have settled in them -while unused. This done, if you have two or three<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span> hands at work, the -cleaning may be so divided as to be done quite expeditiously; let -one wash the windows while another cleans the paint. The windows, if -long unused, need to be well washed in warm suds, into which a little -spirits of ammonia have been poured,—two teaspoonfuls to half a bucket -of suds; then well rinsed in clear water, wiped dry, and polished -with chamois-skin. This same proportion of suds and ammonia will -also clean paint very easily, and without injury to the hands. It is -good for cleaning marble slabs and mantles. The plated door-handles, -bell-pulls, etc., come next in order for cleaning; and here, if a piece -of oil-cloth is cut to slip over each, so that the walls may not be -tarnished, the hot suds and ammonia will prove very effective. A piece -of old carpet or drugget should be laid down as you clean windows, -paint, or plated ware, if the carpet is down, and moved from one spot -to another as you go on.</p> - -<p>Now all is ready to put the last touch to the room. Wring a clean cloth -from some warm, clear water, in which a little alum or salt has been -dissolved, and wipe hard each breadth of the carpet, rubbing straight -down the nap. Wring out the cloth often, to rinse off all the dust, -and change the water if it looks very dingy. This brings up the nap -and gives a new and fresh look to carpets of all kinds; only be sure -that the cloth is not so wet as to drip. Leave the windows open when -the carpet is finished, and shut the doors till it is thoroughly dried -before bringing in what furniture was moved out to clean the room.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXX">XXX.<br> -FASHIONABLE DRESS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>E are often asked why we do not speak out plainly, in the way of -counsel and reproof, about the absurdities of fashionable dress, now so -apparent? What good would it do? Almost every paper has spoken plainly, -or hinted—the worst kind of speaking, however unmistakable—on this -subject, and what is the result? Week by week the fashion-plates are -increasingly monstrous, until at last we are uncertain whether it is -a <i>bona fide</i> fashion plate we are looking at or “Punch” and -“The Budget of Fun.” Neither could take greater liberties or more -atrociously caricature “the human form divine.” And, what would be very -amusing if the weakness did not excite so much pity, those who urge us -to contribute our mite toward a reform, a more Christian mode of dress, -are themselves marvellous structures,—a pile, composed of frizzed, -braided, curled, and puffed hair, under which a small, delicate face -appears; a dress fringed, flounced, puffed, and trailing, with hoops -and panniers protruding like a dromedary’s hump; and all this miserable -deformity borne about on high heels and the tips of the toes, the -discomfort and pain of such unnatural locomotion accepted and endured -because it is <i>the fashion</i>. Yet these fair inquirers appeared -wholly unconscious that their own disfigurement was a stronger appeal -for aid than any words could have been.</p> - -<p>Why not begin this reform in your own dress? Brush your hair smoothly, -and give us the satisfaction of once more seeing what the head is, as -God made it; take off yards of silk, lace, and fringe, and show us your -natural, graceful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span> figure. You who move in what is called fashionable -society can do more by such independence than all that can be written. -Try one season, and mark the change you would effect. “O, we couldn’t -think of such a thing! ‘As well be out of the world as out of fashion,’ -you know. It would make us so very conspicuous by our singularity. We -think it would not be <i>modest</i> to take such a stand. No one person -can effect the change: it must be simultaneous.”</p> - -<p>Ah, had all reformers reasoned so, what would now be the condition -of the civilized world! But Fashion is a tyrant; and we fear volumes -written on the evils which she brings will do little good until women -have learned to defy her. A few in every age have done valiantly in -their attempts to dethrone her, but she changes so often, and so -abruptly and entirely, it is difficult to keep track of her. As far -back as we can search, the whirligig of fashion has been in perpetual -motion, unceasing in its changes. The advice and admonition of age and -experience have little influence towards checking this long-established -tyranny. The old look sadly upon the vagaries of the young; but if -they glance back to their own early days, would they not recall -equal absurdities in the fashions of that period, or on a moment’s -reflection, perhaps, even the dress and style to which they still -pertinaciously adhere may be liable to the same criticism?</p> - -<p>We vividly remember the look of dissatisfaction on our grandmother’s -face (a dear little woman, nearly eighty years old), whose keen black -eyes flashed ominously as we came before her for inspection, dressed -for our first party. We stood, at fourteen, a full head the taller, but -were abashed at the dignified air of authority with which she descanted -on the ridiculousness of our attire. A very narrow skirt, with a few -gathers in the back, three small pleats on each side,—it took but six -or seven yards then for a dress,—a full waist, with a narrow band -round the neck like a baby’s slip, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span> the belt almost under the -arms; a large lace “Vandyke,” or cape, over the shoulders; the hair -combed high on the top of the head and tightly tied, and the length -twisted into a knot or bow, and kept in place by a big tortoise-shell -comb, the top of it full three inches high and six or seven inches -round; and this placed back of the hair. Our first high-topped comb! -What a wonderful work of art it was in our eyes! And the dress—our -<i>first</i> silk—of changeable hues, like the silks which are now -coming again into fashion,—how stylish it did look! We thought every -one must recognize its elegance. Yet here was this “little grandma,” -whose judgment, next to our mother’s, was infallible, looking with -disdain upon it, and turning our whole outfit into ridicule! It was -heartbreaking! And for our first party! Fourteen was very young to go -to parties in those days, but, being tall for our age, we were invited -by mistake we presume. At the present time <i>young ladies</i> of -three and four send out and receive their cards, and with gloves and -fans, frizzled hair, and flounced dresses, mimic the affectation and -absurdities of their elders. We have no sweet, simple childhood any -longer.</p> - -<p>But how was our revered critic attired? The soft, white hair, still -quite abundant, was brushed straight over from the brow, not tied on -top, but rolled as tightly as it could be drawn over what was then -called a pillow,—now it would be, we presume, a <i>rat</i>,—and -fastened on the top of the head by two long silver pins with -arrow-heads; a spotless white mull cap with a very high crown and deep -frill was put on over this pillow and tied with a broad black satin -ribbon in a bow on top; a string of gold beads, a square of white lace -folded over the shoulders and crossed in pleats in front, under the -dress of heavy black satin; the waist of said dress made long down to -the hips, with a point before and behind, the skirt not trailed but -immensely full; very<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span> high-heeled slippers; and on her arm a large -black satin bag, or <i>reticule</i>, embroidered with white beads, in -which was the ever-present knitting-work, completed the costume. And -this queerly dressed little grandmother scoffed at our newer style -as being the height of absurdity. Her dress appeared appropriate to -her, because we had never seen her otherwise attired; but with all -affectionate deference to her superior wisdom, we thought it very -ugly, and would have shrunk in disgust from wearing it ourselves; and -doubtless our new dress in which we then rejoiced would strike our -grandchildren now as equally undesirable.</p> - -<p>So fashion changes, and words of expostulation are wasted. But in this -age of improvement, when we turn our backs on the things of old while -something new is daily being developed or invented, the wonder is, that -in the realms of Fashion we see so little purely original. Like a poor -horse in a treadmill, she goes the same circuit, and about every fifty -years she finds the end, and is compelled to return and reproduce, -with some strange additions, but few improvements, the styles our -grandmothers and great-grandmothers wore. The high heels, hoops, -trains, and panniers of to-day are but the renewal of the fashions of a -semi-barbarous age, which, once buried, should never have been revived.</p> - -<p>Addison, in many of his writings (see particularly papers 98 and 127 -in the “Spectator”), severely criticises the prevailing fashions of -his day. Many of these same deformities our better instructed women -have for a year or two past foolishly reproduced. We may not quote -his words, because the homely language of that period would shock our -greater refinement, (although if it could be arranged for opera or -theatre, his wholesome counsels might be listened to <i>in public</i> -without a blush!).</p> - -<p>There is much to be said, aside from the absurdity of the style, and -its destruction of all grace and beauty, of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span> great extravagance -which must attend the present fashions, breaking up many homes and -alienating true love; and the permanent injury done to health, -subjecting its devotees to long years, perhaps, of discomfort and -lingering sufferings or an early grave.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXI">XXXI.<br> -LESSONS BY THE WAYSIDE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">L</span>OVE </span>lightens labor, and crowns Care with rosy garlands which beautify -her rugged and repellant features. But when those whose presence makes -labor easy are absent, Care is more likely to become a hard taskmaster. -Our house being thus left unto us desolate, for a few days, we rebel, -and have run away.</p> - -<p>Seated all alone in one of those cozy little rooms in the -“palace-cars,” on the banks of the Hudson, we will try for once how -it feels to be free from care, and give ourselves up to the full -enjoyment of the position. How beautiful is the scenery through which -we are passing! Each one thinks his own native land, his own mountains -and rivers, the finest in the world. This feeling often grows into a -ludicrous weakness; but we are confident that our noble Hudson must be -acknowledged by all as ranking among the first.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Where will you find in foreign land</div> - <div class="verse indent2">So sweet a spot, so bold a strand?”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>In spring-time, when every bush and tree is tipped with delicate green, -from the banks of the river to the highest point that overlooks it, -we call it more lovely than at any other season of the year. But in -summer, when the grass is just ready for the scythe, and blossoms of -fruit hang from every bough, we say this surpasses the spring. In -the early fall,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span> the orchards scattered all along the river-side, -laden with the ripening fruit, in each variety of green, red, gold, -or russet, and the woods on either side brilliant with every shade of -color, add another charm to the wondrous beauty of the scenery. And -now, in this later autumn, as we see the</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Leaves around us falling,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Dry and withered, to the ground,”—</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">the lights and shadows on the mountains, the golden hues exchanged -for deeper russet, the dark red of the Ampelopsis mingling with -the rich color of the evergreens that cover the banks,—all caught -by the flashing river, and thrown back in broken and fantastic -reflection,—call for increasing admiration; and mid-winter, when the -ground is white with snow, and the trees are strung with diamonds, will -only furnish stronger cords to hold us steadfast to our allegiance. -There is not “half a kiss to choose” between the seasons on the banks -of our glorious Hudson. We love it always and in all its varied changes.</p> - -<p>And this <i>is</i> rest for the weary! How beautifully quiet the pretty -villages, nested in among the mountains or scattered along the banks, -appear! Is it possible that sickness or sorrow, heartaches or envyings, -fierce passions or corroding cares, can find a harbor near this -tranquil river? It must be so, no doubt; but as we fly quickly past, -and cannot see it, what is it all to us? Why trouble ourselves with the -thought of sorrows which we can neither alleviate nor prevent?</p> - -<p>Ah! we may leave what we call our cares far behind; but we cannot shut -our eyes to the fact that sin, and therefore sorrow, is all about us, -as truly in the restful solitude of the little niche we for a few hours -occupy, as in the weary round of busy life. Out of sight, but almost -within reach of our hand, there is a sick child. We hear its feeble -cry, and think, from the sound, it must be quite young, and nearly -worn out with suffering. The mother, no doubt, tenderly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span> loves her -child, yet long days of watching and sleepless nights have taxed her -strength to the utmost, and exhausted her patience. Sharp and irritable -words are spoken, and as we hear the little one, through the slight -partition that separates us, turn restlessly from side to side, unable -to find an easy spot, yet constantly longing for change, we know that -it is not gently placed on a cooler pillow, or taken to the mother’s -arms,—gathered to her bosom, and soothed with loving words. But -instead we hear, “O dear! what a torment! I am tired to death! Can’t -you lie still one minute?” How these tones make our heart quiver! No -doubt she is very weary, and perhaps full of pain herself; but with -each peevish, complaining word uttered over that frail little blossom, -she is planting</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Thorns, <i>not</i> roses, for her reaping, by and by.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">If she knew that in a few days, perhaps, her babe would be forever -hid from her eyes, would not the remaining hours of its short life be -soothed, regardless of her own pain, by the tenderest love, and each -word soft and sweet as the notes of the cushat-dove! And the father, in -full health and vigor, why does he not relieve the weary, overtasked -mother? Why does he not give her an hour’s rest, while the little one -finds in his strong arms a grateful change? for there is no cradle -so soft and soothing to a babe, sick or well, as a loving father’s -arms. Instead of bearing this yoke with his wife, we hear cross, -ungentlemanly, unsympathetic words of complaint addressed to her, and -harsh and peevish commands to the baby. We long to step across the -narrow passage that divides us, and, taking the little one into our -own arms, kindly tell the parents what seeds they are sowing; to say -to them, “If your child dies, each word will rise up in remembrance -against you, filling your hearts with anguish. If it lives, you are -sowing poisonous weeds, which will cause you life-long sorrow. The -child will imitate your example,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span> practise the lessons it is this day -so early learning, and teach you how ‘the sins of the parents may be -visited upon the children.’ Your own sins and failings will rise up and -condemn you through your children.” Good-breeding and etiquette will -not permit us to go to them with such warning; yet that this lesson -may profit some one, we send it to the friends for whom we write,—the -young <i>home-makers</i> as well as the young housekeepers. In thus -shaping your children’s future, we cannot but think that the father -will be as richly blessed for instilling correct principles, or as -surely condemned for wrong training and example, as the mother. We know -this is treason and heresy, if judged by the prevailing idea that the -mother, far more than the father, is responsible for the principles and -character with which the child takes its place among men and women.</p> - -<p>We think this bad doctrine. The parents have an equal share in their -offspring, and should not hold a divided responsibility.</p> - -<p>The nursing and care in the main is doubtless the mother’s office; but -in extreme cases it should be borne together. Being naturally more -with the child in early infancy, of course the mother has a closer -intimacy. But in a well-organized, loving family, you will note that -while the love is given to both parents alike, when questions of weight -arise, even in early years, the child turns to the father for the final -word which shall be infallible. The mother’s gentler, tenderer tone -settles every-day questions, but there is strength and authority in -the father’s voice from which they are not often tempted to appeal, -and a good wife and mother recognizes this state. It is a sad house -when the hearts of mother and children cannot, with love and pride, -accept this as the natural and legitimate rule of home government and -education. Even if the mother does not, in her own judgment, accept the -father’s decision with the simple faith with which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span> the child receives -it, it is no evidence of tame submission if she pleasantly reserves her -reasons till they are alone. All argument should be avoided between the -parents before the children on matters connected with the children’s -interest. If appealed to, let the reply be simply, “Father knows -best,” or, “Do as father says.” By this you strengthen your husband’s -hands, and nowise compromise your own conscience or influence. Then -when opportunity offers compare your views and give your reasons for -dissent, in all truth and gentleness.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXII">XXXII.<br> -PAULINE PRY.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>E come this week to spy out the land,—to roam “up stairs, down -stairs, and in the lady’s chamber”; to creep into all by and forbidden -places; to look into the bedrooms, ransack the wardrobes, peep into the -drawers, it may be; overhaul trunks and boxes, perhaps; in short, to -take all manner of liberty and find fault to our heart’s content.</p> - -<p>Now we slip, unseen, into the guest-chamber. It is very pleasant and -inviting; but we don’t think the bed is made up very neatly. There -are “humps” in the mattress. It has not been turned over after using, -and well beaten and brought to a good square surface. The sheets and -blankets are not put on smoothly; the fine, Marseilles spread is put -on unevenly, giving a very untidy appearance to the bed, and bringing -so large a proportion of the bedclothes on one side, so as to render -it difficult to turn and press them down properly between the mattress -and side-rail, and of course you cannot, under such circumstances, -give a square, regular<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span> shape to the bed. A poorly made bed spoils the -appearance of the room, however elegant the rest of the furnishing may -be.</p> - -<p>Pretty sheet and pillow <i>tidies</i> are of great assistance in giving -a fresh, cheerful air to a bedroom. If sheets and pillow slips are -neatly tucked and nicely ironed, the bed will look very inviting at -first, if well made; but after it has been once used, the wrinkled, -tumbled sheets and pillows are not a pleasant sight, and one feels well -repaid for the little trouble of providing tidies, however simple; -ruffled and embroidered, for the spare chamber if you please, but a -part of a fine old linen sheet, with broad hems and narrow tucks, -starched and well ironed, gives a very neat finish to the family -bedrooms, and with careful folding when taken off at night will not -need to be done up for some weeks.</p> - -<p>This elegant bureau is all right, as far as it is furnished; but the -guest-chamber should be provided with all the little comforts and -conveniences which a lady thinks necessary in her own room. A handsome -mat or tidy over the marble top, and little mats on each side for -cologne-bottle and watch-stand, or match-box and jewel-case, and a -pretty cushion, will add much to the appearance of this bureau; or -if nothing more, a clean damask towel spread over it is, if not a -necessity, at least a great safeguard against stains on the marble, -and a protection from the disagreeable chill that creeps over one when -resting the hand or arm on the cold marble.</p> - -<p>A good comb and brush, free from the slightest suspicion of dirt, a -boot-buttoner, and a paper of pins, ought to be on the bureau or in -the drawer. A friend often remains over night unexpectedly, and, of -course not coming provided for the detention, will find these little -attentions and conveniences a great comfort, and duly appreciate your -kind and thoughtful care.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></p> - -<p>A little basket of willow or perforated card, embroidered with -some neat and fanciful design, or a bead or muslin bag, is a great -convenience much needed to be hung by the side of the bureau or under -the gas, to hold the hair from comb or brush, burnt matches, bits of -thread or paper. Some such receptacle for loose bits or litter, no -matter how simple, should be near every bureau, which the chambermaid -must empty every morning. A <i>cuspidor</i>, or wide-mouthed vase, upon -the floor, is more elegant than a scrap-basket, but much more expensive.</p> - -<p>A curtain of white barred muslin or linen is needed back of the -washstand, that the water, in washing, may not soil the paper or paint. -A nail-brush is very convenient, we think a real necessity, for every -bedroom. Get open, upright brush holders, rather than the long flat -ones with a cover, for, by standing the tooth and nail brushes in the -upright dish they drain and soon dry; but if laid down and covered they -are never dry, and in warm weather soon become quite offensively musty.</p> - -<p>A good sponge on the washstand and a clean doily hung up with the -towels should be considered as indispensable in any well-furnished -spare room as for those in daily use.</p> - -<p>Of course the bureau drawers and wardrobe in this room will be left as -nearly unoccupied as possible; so we will not stop to open them, but -pass into other rooms.</p> - -<p>What can be the matter in this young lady’s chamber? As we draw near -the bureau, we perceive a most unpleasant smell. We must take the -liberty of opening this drawer. Whew! the first breath reveals the -mystery.</p> - -<p>The brush has been wet to brush the hair, and then without drying shut -from the air in the drawer. There is no smell so sickening! It pervades -the whole bureau. No perfume can overcome it; and by using the brush, -damp and uncleansed day after day, the odor is carried wherever this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span> -careless person goes. We have sat by people in church who have used -such a brush, and could hardly remain during the service. The cause is -unmistakable and cannot be concealed. If no other means can destroy -this bad habit, we would recommend that any one so thoughtless should -read an article we saw not long since in “Harper’s Bazar” on the -vegetable growth, in brush, comb, hair, and scalp, produced by wetting -the brush or hair, and leaving them undried or uncleansed. We think -once reading that description would be sufficient cure.</p> - -<p>The hair-brush should be combed free from hair or dandruff every time -it is used, and laid by an open window till well aired and dried, if -ladies will persist in wetting the hair or brush. A brisk movement of a -dry brush through the hair will soon create a fine lustre on the hair, -whereas wetting diminishes the gloss so beautiful in well-kept hair; -but we forget that that is an old-fashioned idea. The progress of art -and elegance teaches that a wilderness of fuzzy, frizzled hair is now -the crowning beauty. Tastes differ, but no change in style or fashion -will object, we hope, to a clean, sweet brush; and to secure that it -must once a week, at least, be well washed in warm soapsuds, in which -a little soda has been dissolved. Soda is better than ammonia, as it -cleanses without stimulating the <i>vegetable growth</i> spoken of in -the “Bazar,” to which we just referred. Comb the brush while washing, -that the suds may penetrate to the roots of the bristles, and cleanse -every part; then rinse in warm water, rub dry as you can, and put in -the window, or by the fire if the weather is damp, to dry. This care -should not be neglected by any one who makes any pretension to neatness.</p> - -<p>The bureau drawers in this room are not in good order. You will lose -much time, and we think a good deal of self-respect, when next you need -a handkerchief or stockings,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span> for everything here seems to have been -stirred up by a whirl-wind or a sleep-walker. It will require some -skill and more patience than you can spare to separate this wretched -tangle.</p> - -<p>The pipes in the wash-basin and bath-room are slimy and foul, -indicative of neglect. They should be well washed every morning, and -once a week a pail of boiling suds, with a spoonful or two of soda or -potash, must be poured in, to eat away all impurities, and sweeten the -pipes. In passing, let us say this care is more especially necessary in -the kitchen sinks. They require a stronger suds, and more soda or lye, -and more attention, to eat out all the grease that will accumulate in -washing dishes.</p> - -<p>The discoloration around the bell-pull, door-knobs, etc., shows that -a careless girl has not protected the wall or paint while cleaning -them, and the mistress has not kept her eyes open. A bit of oil-cloth, -with a hole in the center, to slip over the knobs or bell-pulls while -rubbing, would have saved this defacement of paint and paper. And the -finger-marks on the doors also tell a sad story of neglect. They need -to be washed off once a week—twice, if little fingers are about—with -a soft flannel, wrung out of hot suds.</p> - -<p>In the sitting-room, the mantel over the grate has not been washed -every morning when the fire is lighted in the grate. It should be. See! -the gas and smoke from coal or kindlings have turned the white marble -quite yellow. Wash it in hot suds, strong with ammonia, to remove the -spots, and then use a clean brush and hot suds every morning, and you -will save much time, and be well rewarded with an unspotted mantel.</p> - -<p>We can’t pry about any longer, but there is no knowing when we may be -tempted again to meddle with our friends’ housekeeping.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIII">XXXIII.<br> -BUY YOUR CAGE BEFORE YOU CATCH YOUR BIRD.</h2> - -</div> -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">A</span> YOUNG lady writes that this old adage is often repeated to her “in -connection with grave warnings against early engagements and early -marriages,” and asks for our opinion and advice.</p> - -<p>This old proverb sounds very wise, and if taken literally may, for -aught we know, be correct doctrine; but when used as a warning, in the -connection which our friend suggests, we don’t more than half believe -in it. We are no advocate for very long engagements or unreasonably -early marriages; but we do believe that the happiest marriages are -of those between whom the love was early plighted, and that close -observation will prove that such are the most likely to stand the -test of time, and pass through the many rough and hazardous paths of -married life with the most cheerful fortitude. Those who have delayed -marriage till their habits have become too firmly established to yield -kindly to another’s wishes or peculiarities have not, we think, so sure -a prospect of a pleasant and harmonious life. We would sooner trust -an early union to carry the wedded pair down to a peaceful old age, -not only without losing the love that first united them, but with the -firm hope that it would grow brighter and brighter until that perfect -day when both, having passed over the river, shall stand with clearer -vision and purified affection before the throne of God.</p> - -<p>When school-days are over and the young man enters upon his chosen -occupation, and the maiden leaves her school-room to return to her -mother’s care, then we believe that a betrothal formed with pure love -for the basis is a great safeguard.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span> It protects the lover from many -temptations by which young men away from home are beset, especially in -the city. They have little society save such transient companions as -may cross their path, and who will, perhaps, seek to entice them to -find pleasure in low and unrefined, if not in really impure and sinful -courses. In the evening, after the day’s work is ended, time hangs -heavy on their hands, they crave something, they know not what, and are -easily entrapped.</p> - -<p>Now, while a true love will teach a man to turn from such pleasures -in disgust, it will also save the maiden any desire to indulge -in the flirtations and coquetries with which gay and fashionable -society tempts young and unguarded girls to degrade themselves. An -<i>engagement</i> does not always prevent this, we are sorry to say, -but <i>pure love</i> will prove an unfailing protection.</p> - -<p>Neither do we believe an engagement should be protracted after the -lover has entered upon his business or profession, until he has -accumulated sufficient wealth to keep his bird in a golden cage.</p> - -<p>Begin real life together. That is the true way, all the sweeter and -happier if you begin small. The less style and display there is, the -more time each will have to study the home character of the one they -have accepted as a companion for life, and the better opportunity to -learn easily how to bear and forbear, to tone down such peculiarities -as are not conducive to mutual confidence and harmony. In all -characters there will be such peculiarities,—it is quite right there -should be,—but by carrying the same gentleness and courtesy into -domestic life which was so easily and naturally given in the days of -courtship, yielding a little, giving up one to the other, the early -wedded become assimilated, and find in their union an ever-increasing -joy, which a later marriage, when the habits become fixed and -unyielding, seldom realizes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p> - -<p>“But to begin life in a small way, with limited means, subjects one -to much drudgery and many deprivations; besides, we lose caste. Those -who knew us in our father’s house, surrounded with comfort and luxury, -would scarcely deign to notice us if found in circumstances so at -variance with our parents’ mode of life.”</p> - -<p>Such friends are scarcely worth the securing. You have outgrown -babyhood and childhood, and, having entered upon man’s and woman’s -estate, surely do not expect to be always cradled in your parents’ -arms; but if you are of any worth you should cheerfully accept life -as you find it. “Its rough ascents or flowing slopes,” if trod -together and in love, will insure genuine happiness, and we often -think one stores up quite as much real pleasure while passing through -the rough places as when walking among the flowers. We know that the -retrospection is often a source of unfailing enjoyment.</p> - -<p>Many, we are aware, find great delight in selecting the house that -is to be their home, and furnishing it as elaborately and tastefully -as their means will permit, perhaps even beyond a safe limit, and -then <i>surprising</i> the bride by ushering her into this unexpected -establishment. The surprise is doubtless effected, but although the -annoyance may be concealed, in nine cases out of ten we venture to say -it is keenly felt. When possible, both should act together in selecting -the house, or it may be “rooms,” where is to be their home, and the -taste and judgment of both be consulted in selecting the furniture -which they expect to have before their eyes daily. In examining and -counseling together frequently, they modify each other’s tastes, and in -the end are far better satisfied than if either had done the work alone.</p> - -<p>The money for furnishing a house is often provided as a part of the -bride’s outfit, and of course, if she chooses so to consider the -matter, it is her right to select the furniture,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span> without consulting -another’s taste or wishes. But the older we grow the more we are -satisfied that <i>my rights</i> should be erased from the matrimonial -dictionary, and <i>our rights</i> substituted.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIV">XXXIV.<br> -CARE IN SELECTING A HOUSE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">C</span>HOOSING a house or tenement is one of the cares that often devolves -upon the wife, and demands great skill, good judgment, and sound -common-sense, because there are so many things to be taken into -consideration. We have been favored with a book published in London -entitled “The Best of Everything.” We have not yet so thoroughly -examined its contents as to be able to judge if it warrants that title, -but have been much pleased with some “Hints on choosing, buying, or -building a House,” and think our readers will be better pleased with -some extracts from that chapter than with anything we could furnish:—</p> - -<p>“Select a cheerful, healthy locality, and be sure the rent, including -taxes, etc., does not exceed one sixth of your income. Do not choose -a neighborhood merely because it is fashionable, and carefully avoid -occupying a dwelling in a neighborhood of doubtful reputation.</p> - -<p>“Be sure that the house is dry, with convenient sewerage and plenty -of water. A southern or western aspect is to be preferred. Should the -house be infested with vermin, avoid it. See that windows and doors are -well secured, that there are proper means of ventilation, and that the -chimneys do not smoke.</p> - -<p>“Let all needful repairs be made by the landlord before the completion -of your agreement, otherwise you will probably<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span> be required to execute -them at your own expense. Do not deal with a landlord commonly reputed -to be disobliging, greedy, or litigious. In every case have a lease -properly drawn out and stamped.</p> - -<p>“Avoid the neighborhood of a sluggish stream, a mill-dam, or -fresh-water lake. The penalties are rheumatism, ague, impaired -eyesight, loss of appetite, asthma, and many other ailments. Choose -a house away from the vicinity of tan-yards and tallow, soap, and -chemical works, old and crowded burying-grounds, or slaughter-houses. -A low situation is perilous, especially during the prevalence of -epidemics.</p> - -<p>“Never lease a house in a narrow street if you can help it, unless the -back premises are open and extensive. Houses built with sea-sand will -in the winter months discharge moisture and be unhealthy. A house with -two entrances is more healthy than with only one. Before closing your -bargain, try to learn something of the house from a former occupant.</p> - -<p>“If you wish to purchase instead of leasing, do not trust to -appearances or rely on your own judgment; but when you have found a -house likely to suit your family and your purse, employ a surveyor to -inspect every portion of it. He will examine the foundations, the state -of the sewerage, and the character of the materials which form the -walls, the joints, flooring, and other wood-work. He will be able to -detect if soft bricks have been used, by finding traces of dampness at -the bottom of the walls. Let a lawyer examine all papers necessary to -secure a full possession.</p> - -<p>“Beware of rashly purchasing fixtures, such as window-blinds or -curtains, hall carpets, or kitchen furniture; new articles may be found -in the end more economical.</p> - -<p>“Make an effort to pay the whole of the purchase-money. A bond on your -house may endanger your credit and affect your comfort.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span></p> - -<p>“If instead of buying a house, you wish to build, select your locality; -but before completing the arrangements, ascertain the precise nature of -the soil. In a gravelly soil you will readily secure good foundations; -but if you find clay, or moist earth, be cautious. You may, indeed, -procure an artificial foundation by laying a bed of concrete; but this -will be attended with considerable expense. Consult an architect; he -will make a plan for your approval, and prepare working plans, and a -specification. If the house is to be built of brick, be careful to -examine the quality of the bricks, and also of the mortar. Personally -inspect the plumber’s work, which, if inferior, will expose you to -endless expense afterwards.</p> - -<p>“Do not allow zinc to be used either as gutters or water-pipes; it -wastes under exposure.</p> - -<p>“When a new house passes out of the hands of the carpenters, the -painters and paper-hangers take their place. In selecting your -paper-hangings, keep in view these considerations. If the ceiling is -low, oak paper, or any dark paper, will make it apparently lower still; -or if a room be defectively lighted, a dark shade aggravates the evil. -Papers of large designs are unsuited for a small room, making it look -smaller; and, generally, papers with a variety of colors and showy -patterns are inconsistent with elegance. Striped papers are better -adapted for rooms with low ceilings. When you have pictures to hang on -the walls, floral devices in the paper are particularly unsuitable. -Paper of a uniform color, such as light or dark green, is admirably -adapted for pictures. The paint of doors and windows should harmonize -with the <i>paper-hangings</i>.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXV">XXXV.<br> -VISITING FOR ONE’S OWN CONVENIENCE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HERE are very few housekeepers in cities or large towns who will not, -at the first glance, understand precisely what this means; and, however -many may have been tempted to indulge in this style of visiting, and -perhaps often yielded to the temptation, there will be none found, -we venture to say, who will not heartily protest against it, when -practised upon themselves.</p> - -<p>We have before us a letter from a lady on this subject, and think we -cannot do better than to transcribe part of it for the benefit of our -young friends, as it presents the subject in a clear and very forcible -manner:—</p> - -<p>“Do not, by any means, imagine that I would say a word against friendly -visits, for mutual enjoyment and the cultivation of true friendship. I -gladly welcome to my house all who come to <i>see me</i>, and delight -to do them honor in every way hospitality can suggest. My friends are -sure of a cordial welcome at all times, and I never make a visit I do -not wish returned. So much by way of parenthesis.</p> - -<p>“Now for a statement of grievances. It is my misfortune (or fortune) to -have been brought up in a rural town, about thirty miles from the city -where I have resided since my marriage, five years ago. I am a young -housekeeper, not yet of sufficient experience to take matters as easily -as older and more experienced matrons can, and therefore am more easily -disturbed by untoward events.</p> - -<p>“The people living in my native town and thereabouts, who are in the -least acquainted with me or my husband, find it vastly convenient, -when they come to the city, once or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span> twice a year, or oftener, to -shop, do errands of various kinds, or attend conventions,—of which -we have legions,—to come directly to my house, with all the freedom -of brothers and sisters, and stay till their mission to the city, -whatever it may be, is accomplished, with no thought or inquiry of how -it may conflict with my plans and convenience, or whether my health -is sufficient to enable me to bear the addition to my work. And still -worse, they never give any notice of their coming; but arrive, perhaps, -in the noon train, just as I am dishing up dinner for my small family, -with their strong country appetites, whetted by their morning ride, and -expect a good dinner and a hearty welcome. If it were only one or two -who take such liberties, I would not mind it; but as one after another -makes my house their hotel, it becomes a weariness to the flesh. Nor is -this all. The hardest and most annoying of all is to have a woman come -bringing a young child, and remain till she has made her purchases for -a large family. This of course takes two or more days. The child is -left in my care, while the mother is only in the house at meal-times. -The child is home-sick, lonely, and fretful, and completely wears me -out, mentally and bodily; and I have no means of redress. When the -mother leaves, she says, ‘Now come and make me a visit,’ well knowing -that I never will.</p> - -<p>“I might speak of the annoyance of rising two hours earlier than usual -to get breakfast in season for an early morning train; but I forbear, -hoping you will help those who suffer from this cruel and heartless -practice.”</p> - -<p>This victim of a selfish and heartless custom has so well portrayed -the annoyances that spring naturally from it, that few words of ours -are needed. But, in justice to the writer, we must assure our readers -that this is no fancy sketch; the half of what the landladies of these -gratuitous hotels are called upon—no, compelled—to endure has not -been told.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span> Happy, if when sick, without help, or unable to afford to -keep any, they do not find it necessary to furnish two or three extra -meals, at different parts of the day, after the family have been fed, -the table and dishes all cleansed, and the weary provider has just sat -down to that large basket of long-delayed mending. Long delayed! And -why? Because the time and strength which might have been given to that -work have been frittered away for those who have no legitimate claim -upon either, and who, perhaps, taking notes of everything which their -presence compels the lady of the house to neglect, go away and requite -her hospitality by criticising her housekeeping and remarking upon her -inefficiency! Or it may be, these long-suffering ladies are rung up at -midnight to receive unscrupulous and untimely guests; or, instead of -one child to look after, they are expected to act as nurse to three -or four. We have tried and known it all, and confess <i>we don’t like -it</i>.</p> - -<p>Aside from the fatigue and inconvenience, the pecuniary tax is often -much heavier than the poor victim can afford to pay. We think the -meanest kind of pilfering is that practised by self-constituted guests. -We would ride, in the darkest night, over the roughest corduroy -roads ever seen at the West in her earliest days, until we found a -<i>log-tavern</i>, on the edge of a “clearing,” with no private room, -no eatable food, and a bed already fully inhabited, before we would -thus trespass on any one upon whom we had not strong claims of hearty -love or relationship, and especially without warning. And one who has -ever tried this alternative, will acknowledge that we could not well -express our abhorrence of the practice of “visiting for one’s own -convenience” more forcibly.</p> - -<p>Look at it on the score of the host’s convenience. Even with an -abundant income, an ample supply of well-trained servants, every -housekeeper knows that one is liable to have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span> on the table what may be -sufficient for “the family,”—the last of the bread, and only enough -meat. The new bread may be almost ready for the oven, but not for the -table. The butcher may have been delayed, or forgotten your order, and -you have no more supplies on hand. Who does not know the anxiety and -annoyance of “improvising” a dinner for unexpected guests, when the -larder is not well filled? (By the way, dear young housekeeper, keep -watch that you are not often caught with short “rations.”) Then, you -often have engagements that demand your attention immediately after you -have finished your dinner, and failing to meet such engagements may -cause you much trouble, and subject you to very great annoyance. And -for whom must you allow all these arrangements, connected with your own -or your family’s interests, to be deranged? For almost a stranger,—a -mere passing acquaintance, in nowise congenial, who finds your house -more pleasant and convenient, and certainly more <i>economical</i>, -than a public hotel. There are mischievous, roguish boys in most -families, who have a very emphatic nomenclature of their own by which -they would designate such liberties; but as we very gravely rebuke all -“slang” phrases in our own family, we dare not venture to use their -terms, however appropriate, and can simply say, that it is the coolest -and most unpardonable kind of unwarrantable familiarity.</p> - -<p>There is another trouble connected with <i>convenient and economical -visiting</i>, which our friend has not noticed. We trust she has never -experienced it. We have, many times; and in former years, with young -children to care for, it was the hardest to bear of all the vexations -caused by these unwelcome guests. We refer to the disturbance and -dissatisfaction which such unexpected increase of labor causes among -our servants. If these visits are not like those of the angels, “few -and far between,” (and such <i>hotels</i>, once found,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> are not often -left quiet,) your “help” will be very likely to appear before you, -carpet-bag in hand, saying, “Please, mem, I must leave you; I did not -hire out to a <i>boarding-house</i>.” Ah, what blessed independence! -They can give notice to leave, but you cannot. You cannot quit your -post, but must stay by, and silently endure. So custom ordains. But -if custom enacts unjust laws, lays upon weary shoulders heavy burdens -most grievous to be borne, is not a revolt justifiable? We think it is, -and, in mercy to patient workers, the sooner it begins and the more -unflinchingly it is sustained the better.</p> - -<p>When those who have no claim upon your time or your affections take -such liberties, besieging you in your home, we think it not at all -reprehensible or discourteous to say, frankly, with unmistakable -plainness, that it is inconvenient or quite impossible for you to -accommodate or entertain them. Be as kind and gentle as you can, but -be firm. They have no claim upon you; let it be well understood that -you recognize none, and mean to act accordingly. If you accept the -intrusion, without protest, you will but rivet your bonds; and while -you find them growing stronger and more galling every year, you will -also find that your power to resist and break the chains becomes -weaker. Your submission to such imposition and oppression will be well -noised abroad, and you will find yourself at the mercy of many a chance -customer.</p> - -<p>To such as come to you in love and for love’s sake, let your doors -swing wide open. Intercourse between friends and relatives is another -and very different thing. It is giving and receiving, and the pleasure -makes the labor light. But to all who use your house for their own -selfish convenience, lock the door and drop the key in your pocket.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVI">XXXVI.<br> -WILL THEY BOARD, OR KEEP HOUSE?</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>E think it is considered allowable to criticise and gossip about -household matters <i>generally</i>, so that we don’t intrench on -anybody in <i>particular</i>. But to avoid meddling was a doctrine -so thoroughly inculcated in our youth, that in our talk with young -housekeepers we have found ourselves shrinking from touching upon -many little mistakes that need rectifying, or topics that will bear -discussion, forgetting that we are really not prying into private -family matters. Yet, thanks to many letters of inquiry from unknown -friends, which give us license and courage to take up prevailing modes -or ideas and suggest what we think a better way, we shall go on, and -perhaps be considered a meddler after all!</p> - -<p>When young people marry, the first question asked is, “Will they -board, or keep house?” And the reasons for or against keeping house -show a very great variety of opinions. We hear this question so often, -and see, with pain, how poorly prepared, through the reprehensible -indulgence of their mothers, many of the young ladies of the present -day are for the performance or superintendence of home cares and -duties, that, having waited for some explicit inquiries on the subject, -we now propose to embody, in an imaginary letter, some of the anxieties -and distress which this same indulgence stores up for the tenderly -reared daughters. We will suppose that one of these young ladies writes -us as follows:—</p> - -<p>“I know that you generally advise young people to go to housekeeping, -instead of boarding. That may be the best way for most, and of late I -am inclined to think it is; but I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span> am peculiarly situated. I wonder if -you can understand how very hard it must be, how almost impossible, -for a young lady who has lived twenty years without any cares, who has -always seen an abundance of everything,—never knowing or thinking -that economy was or could be necessary,—to undertake the care of a -house, under circumstances which will make it desirable that the work, -if not done by her own hands, should be wholly under her constant -supervision. What sort of a housekeeper would you expect her to make? -I have just learned that my parents are not able, now, to start me in -life as elegantly as I have always been brought up to expect. In a few -weeks I shall be united to one, not rich, but I think well worthy of -any sacrifice or hardship. He earnestly desires me to consent to begin -housekeeping as soon as we are married. I don’t want to, because I am -sure boarding will be wiser and safer than my unskillful housekeeping. -But my friend says, if I will consent, he will be patient with my -short-comings and mistakes, and will work enough harder to make up -for all I waste while learning. Poor fellow! he little dreams what an -ignoramus he is about to risk his comfort and perhaps happiness with. -Why, I know absolutely nothing of what I am just beginning to feel is -of the greatest importance, if we would secure a happy union. To be -sure, I can sing and dance well, so partial friends say. I paint with -skill and accuracy sufficient at least to amuse myself and while away -such time as would otherwise drag heavily during a rainy day, and am -quite skillful with my needle when I use it for fancy work; but when -it comes to useful, necessary work, I am as helpless and useless as -a child. Ah, if my dear parents had lavished half the money to teach -me household mysteries that was expended to make me <i>thoroughly -accomplished</i>, in the fashionable sense of that term, how happy -I should now be and how bright the future would appear! I have good -health, and, if I only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span> knew how to do anything, would shrink from no -hardship; but I honestly know nothing useful. And this foolish lover -of mine talks about being patient with my mistakes until I learn to -keep house! Alas, it will take years to teach me so that I can see my -way through this fog and tangle of ignorance. I shall be an old woman, -bent and gray, before I understand the first principles of household -economy. Will he bear with me through all the vexatious blunders I -shall make while learning, and be patient if, after years of trial, he -finds I am but an awkward and unskillful worker still?”</p> - -<p>Yes, if this young man is worthy of your love, he will value the -efforts you make, and sympathize with you when you find the results -unsatisfactory. If he would have your praiseworthy struggles to make -the home attractive successful, he must not look back to the “leeks and -onions of Egypt,” but accept the journey through the wilderness with -cheerfulness, and be lovingly grateful if the “manna” falls at first -but seldom. Many a young, inexperienced wife has had all her efforts -paralyzed, because her husband was so often murmuring about <i>his -mother’s bread and pies and gingerbread</i>. That is cruel and unmanly.</p> - -<p>Now, in the first place, let us say to every young couple, <i>Go to -housekeeping by all means</i>. However awkward or unskillful you may -be, or however small and simple must be your habitation, do not let -the first years of married life be passed in a boarding-house. It is -no place to learn each other’s character, to become accustomed to the -peculiarities that belong to every one; it is no place to accept as -<i>home</i>.</p> - -<p>If you are not able to employ servants while you two, who have just -been made one, are the only occupants of your new home, happy are ye. -In this early stage of married life, to venture on boarding, or risk -the tyranny of servants, is to deprive yourselves of the sweetest -experiences of a true home. No matter how heavy or how light your purse -may be, if you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span> are wise, commence small. If young people assume the -cares of a large mansion, and with it, of necessity, the supervision -of a number of servants, they will soon become disheartened, and vote -housekeeping wretched work. But in a small house, before “olive plants” -cluster around to tell you that</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“The cottage is too small,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And the table wanteth space,”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">you become accustomed to the care, and so well versed in all the -minutest details of home labor, that you will scarcely feel the -additional tax on your energies, either of the olive branches or a -larger house, and the additional care of servants, which will, of -necessity, come with a more imposing residence.</p> - -<p>Then, as to the shrinking from venturing into the new and untried -household domains, which young ladies so naturally feel who know -absolutely nothing but the “accomplishments” taught in schools, we -would say, for your encouragement, that the road to such knowledge -as will enable you to form some correct idea of the work which lies -before you is not so long or so difficult as your fears have led you to -imagine. With a willing heart, with hands made quick and skillful by -love, the way will soon become easy and pleasant. If possible, employ -much of the few last weeks before your marriage in making yourself -familiar with the rudiments of household affairs. Read all you can -about it,—how your house should be arranged, what will be necessary -in each department. Learn all you can about marketing,—what articles -are most desirable, and during what seasons; seek how to judge of the -quality of the food you buy, and the honest price for it. These are -homely details, but the knowledge will be all needed, indeed it is -indispensable to perfect you in good management; but you will secure -the most effective knowledge, and the greatest confidence in your own -capacity, by going about the house, and, little by little, doing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span> -with your own hands the work belonging to each department, under your -mother’s supervision, or that of a well-trained housekeeper. At first, -as it is all new work to you, it will not be easy or pleasant; but -repeat the trial, and with each attempt you will find that you are -acquiring skill and courage. Let there be no part of household labor -that you do not perform a few times yourself, until you are well -assured that you have sufficiently mastered it to do it again, or to -detect any mistake or blunder in a servant. If you must keep servants, -they will give you little comfort unless they see from the first—and -they are usually very quick to discern between an intelligent or -ignorant mistress—that you mean to overlook your work daily, and are -abundantly able to discover any deviation from the right track. But -above all things, unless for a year or two after marriage you can -have the privilege of discarding servants entirely, endeavor, before -marriage, to feel so much at ease in the kitchen, and so far mistress -of cooking, that you will be able easily to detect any failure, and -know the reason for it. If bread is brought to the table that is -not satisfactory, it is wise to be able to say to your cook, with -confidence, “Your bread should have risen longer before being put -into the oven. It is not exactly heavy; but it feels solid, and bites -tough.” Or, “Your bread is full of holes. You have not kneaded it -sufficiently.” Or, “Cook, we must return that barrel of flour. It is -not good. See how it ‘runs’ as you are kneading it. We shall have no -real good bread from such flour.” “The pastry was not nice to-day. You -have handled it too much, and it cuts as tough as leather. Please be -more careful about it.”</p> - -<p>Thus, by spending an hour a day in your mother’s kitchen, taking an -active part in the work to be done there, and going through every -department in the same thorough manner, even one month will advance you -so that you can see the “silver lining” to all these clouds, and will -give you sufficient<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> confidence in your own knowledge and power, to -banish all the mystery and dread. Then, when you walk with well-assured -steps, knowing that you have conquered so far, and can, of course, -conquer all, by patient endurance in well-doing, you will begin to -enjoy every step of progress you make. No matter if you are and will -be possessed of fabulous wealth, this knowledge should be secured by -every young lady. But should you begin with large or small means, in -either case your prospects of comfort and happiness are very insecure, -if you enter the married state unwilling to acquire that which every -woman should know,—the art of housekeeping. In after life, when home -cares may be less pressing, become lawyer, judge, or President, if you -can; but surely young women can find noble work, sufficient for all -their talents and energies, in laying the foundation of and securely -establishing a well-ordered and happy <i>home</i>.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVII">XXXVII.<br> -CHOICE OF COLORS IN DRESS.</h2> - -<p class="center">BLONDES.</p> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the selection of articles for dress, one should be guided, not only -by the quality of the fabric and durability of color, but also by -observing if the color will harmonize with the complexion of the wearer.</p> - -<p>Nothing marks refinement and culture, or the want of it, more than the -combination of colors in one’s attire. It is folly to spend time and -thought upon the adorning of the body, to the exclusion of other and -more important matters; but it is always wise to do well whatever is to -be done, and to develop and perfect such gifts as God has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span> bestowed, -either of body or mind, so as to make them as attractive and valuable -as possible. We hold it to be a duty to give such time and thought to -dress as will secure the largest amount of pleasure and gratification -to one’s family and friends. To labor to secure a prominent position, -to become a leader of fashion, is another and very different thing. -When seeking to impart pleasure to friends, we are influenced by love; -but when striving to be among the most fashionable, we cater to a -selfish vanity or a poor and low ambition.</p> - -<p>Works on the combinations of color in dress divide complexions into -the “fair and ruddy blondes,” and the “pale and florid brunettes.” In -the fair blonde we find a delicate white skin; light hair, in all the -shades from a golden hue to yellow or orange-brown; light blue or gray -eyes; a slight tinge of rose on the cheek, and a richer tint on the -lips. In all such complexions the rose-color is not decided enough, and -the hair would be improved by a deeper hue; and these changes can be -made, in a good degree, by a suitable mingling of color in the dress. -One of the most favorable colors for the fair blonde is a <i>delicate -green</i>, as it imparts to the flesh-white of the skin a tint of red, -which, mingling with the natural hue, forms an agreeable rose-tint,—a -good contrast both to the face and hair, especially if the hair is -golden, inclining to orange.</p> - -<p>The best colors to mingle with the green, as trimmings, are red, -orange, and gold. Green and gold form a rich harmony, peculiarly -becoming to the fair blonde. Scarlet, blended with green, harmonizes -better than red; but if red, inclining to crimson, is used, then orange -and gold must also be combined with it. There are some shades of green -that are not becoming, unless blended with and enlivened by other -harmonious colors. A green bonnet, with rose-color and white, with a -white feather, will always be becoming for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> this complexion. Be careful -that too much white is not used, else it will have a cold effect, and -therefore will not aid the fair complexion so much. Orange or gold may -be substituted for the pink or rose; also red, in a small bonnet, but -neither should be placed close to the face. Orange, in a green bonnet, -in small quantities, is becoming, if the wearer’s eyes are blue. A few -autumnal shades of red, orange, or yellow-green are also in harmony -with the fair complexion; but dark green is not at all desirable.</p> - -<p>Blue is very suitable, giving an orange tint, which harmonizes finely -with the delicate white and flesh hues of the complexion. There is -always a natural trace of orange color on the skin, and this color, by -intensifying this natural tint, is very pleasing; but the blue must be -light, and not too positive. Blue being the perfect contrast of orange, -it agrees finely with golden or orange-brown hair. This is the reason -that light blue head-dresses are so very becoming on light hair. To -give a good effect to blue by gas-light, a little white or very pale -blue is necessary to be in contrast or very near the face. If there -are green leaves with the blue flowers of a head-dress, they should be -placed as near the face as possible.</p> - -<p>White, black, a very little yellow, orange, straw, or stone color, may -either of them be used in the trimmings of a light blue bonnet with -good effects; but not if there are pink or purple flowers on it, as -these colors mingled with blue are unsuitable. The colors to be used -carefully or avoided altogether, with fair complexions, are yellow, -orange, red, and purple. The light shades of lilac may be sometimes -used; but it is very trying, and must always, if used, be separated -from the flesh by an edging of tulle or some similar trimming, or be -associated with its harmonizing colors, cherry, scarlet, light crimson, -or gold color, and then they will in part overcome the bad effects; but -green and lilac<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span> should never be coupled, as it will form a positive -discord. A very little light purple is agreeable for a head-dress on -light hair, but must be placed near the skin.</p> - -<p>Neutral colors, if not too dark, accord well with fair blondes; gray, -fawn, drab, and some few shades of brown are the best. Black is good -for the fair blonde who has some healthy color, because it increases -the <i>rose</i> in the complexion; but it is bad for pale skins, as it -bleaches them by the painful contrast. No delicate color can be blended -with black without seeming of a <i>lighter tone</i>. Unless used for -mourning, black must be mingled with either blue, cherry, mulberry, -drab, or lilac, to remove the somber effects; but cherry and lilac must -be used sparingly. Red must not be used at all with black for fair -blondes, as it gives a rusty tinge. White is suitable with black, if -some other color is added; otherwise it is too cold. A black bonnet -looks well with a fair complexion, but a little white and rose-color -should be added, keeping the rose away from the skin. White is pleasant -for all complexions, but more so with the fair blonde who has some -color than for any other. Bright colors with white bonnet may be added, -but must be kept low, and well grouped. White increases the paleness -of a pale skin, but this effect may be neutralized by a blue or green -wreath brought well on the face.</p> - -<p>The <i>ruddy blonde</i> has a full-toned complexion, inclining to -positive rose-red or carnation; dark blue or brown eyes, blonde and -brown hair. All the colors suitable for the fair are generally suitable -for the ruddy blonde, but the tones and in some cases the hues must be -changed. As a rule this type may use more freedom in the selection of -colors than the fair; her complexion, not being so delicate, is less -sensitive. The hair being the medium between gold and black, and the -complexion higher toned and more positive, rich and moderately dark -colors may be used.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span></p> - -<p>Green is very becoming, but it must be of the darker shades, and not -the delicate green that is so becoming for the fair blonde. If the -complexion is light and can use more red, without being overcharged, -rich, full-toned green, such as grass or moss green, may be used, as, -although sufficiently bright to yield color to the skin, it is not so -powerful a contrast as to bleach it. In proportion as the complexion -increases in color a deeper green may be selected, passing from the -positive to the neutral hues, as sage, tea, or olive green. These -deep, neutral greens do not cast much red, while they both harmonize -with and reduce the natural hue. A simple rule for the ruddy blonde -is, the paler her complexion the brighter must be the green she wears, -the <i>rosier</i> the cheek the deeper and more neutral must be the -green. For the high-toned blonde the green may be neutralized by -mingling rose, scarlet, orange, or white flowers. If on the inside of -a bonnet, the colored flowers must be surrounded with some gray or -semi-transparent material to keep from contrast with the skin. On the -outside dead-green or autumnal leaves, with a few flowers of orange -or scarlet, are selected. Rose-colored flowers harmonize better with -bright yellow-green than with dead-green leaves.</p> - -<p><i>Blue</i> also is suitable, but it follows the same rules as -<i>green</i>: it must be deeper and richer for the ruddy blonde than -for the fair. The best colors to associate with the rich blues are -orange, salmon, and chocolate; white and black also harmonize with -blue. Bonnets and head-dresses, and wreaths of blue, need the same -colors blended as for the fair blonde, only of a deeper tint, and -all colors pointed out as injurious by the one type must be avoided -by the other. The most difficult color to introduce in any dress is -<i>violet</i>; its effect on all complexions being so unsatisfactory. -All skins appear yellow when in contrast with it, and look sickly -and disagreeable. A large proportion of yellow is needed to reduce<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span> -and neutralize the effects of violet. It becomes positively lost in -artificial light, and should never be used or introduced into an -evening dress.</p> - -<p>Neutral colors are mostly suitable for the ruddy blonde; when light -they increase the color, when dark they reduce it by contrast. Russet, -gray, slate, maroon, and all shades of brown are the most pleasing of -the <i>dark</i> neutrals, and gray, drab, fawn, and stone color, the -most desirable of the <i>light</i> neutrals.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVIII">XXXVIII.<br> -HARMONIZING COLORS IN DRESS.</h2> - -<p class="center">BRUNETTES.</p> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the last chapter we noticed the colors most appropriate and -harmonious for the <i>fair</i> and the <i>ruddy blonde</i>. We shall -now note a few peculiarities of the <i>pale</i> and the <i>florid -brunette</i>.</p> - -<p>In the <i>pale brunette</i>, the eyes and hair are usually a deep -brown or brown-black, and the skin pale, often with some sallow shade. -With this peculiar complexion, light or very dark colors are the most -becoming, because the light colors harmonize with the tint of the skin, -and the dark colors with the hue of the hair and eyes. Thus we follow -Nature’s coloring, and sustain her effective contrasts. When the colors -of the dress are a medium between the skin and hair and eyes, they -“reduce the expression, and injure or destroy the greatest charm.”</p> - -<p><i>Black</i> being similar to the color of eyes and hair, and a perfect -contrast to the complexion, increases the purity of the natural tints, -and is very suitable for the pale brunette. All<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span> the shades of dark -brown being similar to the hair and eyes, are also appropriate. Claret, -dark russet, and crimson are not unsuitable, but less desirable and -becoming than black or brown.</p> - -<p>Positive blue, green, or purple must not be used; but dark blue, green, -or violet may be accepted, provided the complexion has no shade of -yellow or sallowness. If there is, these colors must all be avoided.</p> - -<p><i>White</i>, being analogous to the hue of the skin, is very -desirable, enhancing the richness of the eyes and hair, and, as it -receives a yellow tint from artificial light, is particularly desirable -for an evening dress for the pale brunette. Yellow and white united are -also becoming in the evening for this class of complexion, but become -dull by daylight, and very undesirable. Gold or maize color contrasts -pleasantly with black or dark brown eyes and hair, and neutralizes any -disagreeable sallowness that there may be in the skin.</p> - -<p>The <i>florid brunette</i> often inclines to the olive complexion, -and, in many cases, to the copper-colored, or subdued yellow, or -orange-brown, with more positive red on lip and cheek than in the -blonde types. The eyes are black, the hair jet or blue-black. The -tones yellow, orange, and red predominate in the florid brunette, -and harmonize together by <i>analogy</i> or <i>similarity</i>; but -they also harmonize with the black hair and eyes, by <i>contrast</i>; -therefore great care and good judgment should be exercised, lest this -agreeable group of harmonizing tints should be weakened or destroyed -by the use of objectionable colors. On the other hand, it is desirable -to seek to neutralize any unpleasant tone in the complexion, caused -by too much yellow, which will otherwise give a sallow and unhealthy -tinge to the skin. Yellow, maize, or gold color will effect this; -because, while they contrast favorably with the color of the hair -and eyes, intensifying their richness by the purple tint which this -combination forms, they also harmonize,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span> by analogy, with the tints of -the complexion, and at the same time sufficiently neutralize any excess -of yellow that these tints may exhibit. When the skin shows more orange -than yellow, maize or yellow in the dress will enrich the complexion by -the increase of red which these colors will develop.</p> - -<p>A <i>yellow bonnet</i> is very becoming to the florid brunette; but as -it is worn near and surrounds the face, much of its effects must be -neutralized by introducing violet, purple, or deep blue as trimmings; -they must not come in contact with the face, however, and should be -used very sparingly.</p> - -<p>Orange is too brilliant and gaudy to be used in dress, except in very -small quantities, and the same rule holds good of red, scarlet, bright -crimson, magenta, and all brilliant colors of the like class; they, -with orange, are suited to some complexions where it is advantageous -to neutralize, but they are too bright for general costume. A scarlet -head-dress is becoming with dark hair, intensifying it by contrast, and -by the purple shade which it adds when worn near black. Dark red, also, -is suitable for complexions that have too much red on the cheeks or -lips, neutralizing the color of the skin, and reducing it by contrast. -Violet is not agreeable, unless its bad effects are controlled or -counteracted by the addition of yellow; but the dark shades of violet -are less objectionable than the positive color. A violet bonnet -may be used with this type of complexion, if trimmed with pale -yellow,—primroses, for instance; the flowers being a good contrast to -the violet bonnet, and harmonizing well with the skin.</p> - -<p>A black bonnet is not as becoming for the brunette as for the blonde; -but by using white, red, orange, or yellow trimmings, it is quite -pleasing. It enhances the red by reducing the lighter tints of the -skin, but it has no power to neutralize any objectionable tint that may -exist. White is more favorable than black, and accords well with this -complexion. A<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span> white bonnet is suitable, if trimmed with red, orange, -or yellow; but the yellow should be mingled with white only for evening -wear.</p> - -<p>In grouping color with color, nothing is more common than to see -discordant tints placed together,—purple and green, for instance; and -however rich the material or beautiful the wearer, such incongruity -is exceedingly distasteful. In arranging colors, it should be borne -in mind that there are two kinds of harmony,—the harmony of contrast -and the harmony of analogy. When two dissimilar colors are blended -agreeably, such as blue and orange, or lilac and cherry, they form -a harmony of contrast. Two distant tones of one color, such as very -light and very dark blue, associated, harmonize by contrast; but -in this latter instance, the harmony is neither so striking nor so -perfect. When similar colors, such as orange and scarlet, crimson and -crimson-brown, are grouped together, they form a harmony of analogy; -and if two or more shades of color, closely approximating in intensity, -are associated, they harmonize by analogy.</p> - -<p>Harmonies of contrast are more effective, but not more important, than -those of analogy. The former are brilliant and decisive, the latter -quiet and undemonstrative. Both hold equal positions in matters of -dress, and in arranging the colors of the costume be careful to choose -the proper species of harmony.</p> - -<p>There are two rules to be observed: first, associate with colors -favorable to the complexion tints that will harmonize by analogy or -similarity, because contrasting colors would diminish and injure its -favorable effect; second, if the color selected for the dress is -injurious to the complexion, then contrasting color must be associated -with it, to neutralize its objectionable influence.</p> - -<p>There is much more to be said on the selection of colors<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span> for dress, -but we must not trespass longer. We hope that, by our having thus -called attention to this subject, our readers may find it sufficiently -interesting to become familiar with the rules given, and carry the -lessons it may have taught into practical use.</p> - -<p>We are very largely indebted to “A Manual for Ladies,” by W. and G. -Audsley, for much of the information grouped in this and the preceding -article.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIX">XXXIX.<br> -A WORD ABOUT MOTHS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“M</span>OTHS in the winter! Pray don’t speak of them! Some weeks later -will be time enough to stir up our minds by way of remembrance. The -vexatious little torments! they surely don’t work in winter! And yet I -have noticed several little spots, or holes, that looked as if eaten -by moths. I am sure they were not there early in the fall: I couldn’t -understand it, but was so confident that moths did not do their -mischief in winter, that I have been trying to find some other cause -for these marks.”</p> - -<p>Ah! there was where you were mistaken. There are two kinds of -moths,—one a large silver-colored fly; its worm is shaped somewhat -like those found in chestnuts. The other was first noticed some -eight or ten years since, by the upholsterers. It is smaller, of a -brown or dark drab color. It is governed by no times or seasons, but -works steadily on, summer and winter. The heat of our city homes or -furnace-heated country-houses may promote this uninterrupted activity. -The moth or fly, it is said, finds its way into a sofa or chair between -the back or seat under the lining, where,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span> among the springs, it finds -a safe and convenient hiding-place. They will often secure a home in -these secret places within a week of the time that furniture, right -from the cabinet-maker’s, has been brought into the house. If they do, -they are so enormously prolific that in a month or two they can be -numbered by thousands. We cannot but think that when, in a carefully -kept house, these moths are found in new furniture, they must have been -first introduced through poorly prepared hair or material with which -the article was upholstered or the hair, having been wet, was used -before it was carefully dried. This theory may be only an imagination -of our own but every year’s experience confirms the idea,—upholsterers -to the contrary notwithstanding.</p> - -<p>It is said that these moths will not eat pure curled hair, but only use -it to fasten their cocoons upon, as being secure from any disturbance, -through the elasticity of the hair. They use the inside of furniture -only for propagation, and here at the same time may be found the fly, -the worms, and the eggs. From this concealment the worm escapes, to -feed on the plush or woolen materials, or, falling to the floor, feeds -on the carpet. Plush being made with cotton back generally, they seldom -eat through that, though they do sometimes cut through the muslin -backs of sofas, etc. Little protection may be hoped for from the use -of cayenne pepper, Scotch snuff, camphor, turpentine, or all other -remedies against the large moth. Continual watchfulness is the only -safety.</p> - -<p>At least once a week the furniture should be moved away from the -walls into the middle of the room and well brushed and beaten with a -“furniture whip” or braided ratans. After brushing carefully all around -the buttons with a furniture button-brush, pull up the material which -will lie in loose folds or pleats about the buttons, and hold them -up with one hand while you brush off all lint or dust that may<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span> have -settled in these folds. These are nice little hiding-places for the -worm, and must be looked after. As fast as each piece of furniture has -been faithfully brushed and whipped, set it into the next room and keep -the doors closed.</p> - -<p>While cleaning, turn each chair or sofa bottom-side upward and beat the -backs and under part of the seats, to dislodge any that may have found -shelter inside. When the furniture has received all needed attention, -and is removed from the room, give the carpet a thorough cleansing by -going over it with a “carpet-sweeper.” Nothing so effectually gathers -up the worms or eggs, and the carpet is less worn than when swept with -a broom. Of course, in the corners and around the edges, where the -“carpet-sweeper” cannot work, you must use a small whisk-broom and -dust-pan, and this must be done before going over the main part of the -carpet.</p> - -<p>In using a “sweeper” be careful to empty it once or twice while going -over a large room, pulling out all the strings and hair that may, when -gathered up, have twisted around the axle of the circular brush inside -the box. If not removed, it will soon obstruct the motion, and its -operation be ineffectual. In using a “carpet-sweeper” have everything -out of the way of the machine, that you may have a clear surface across -the whole length of the room, if possible; hold the handle up nearly -straight, so as to bring all the brush underneath in contact with the -carpet; press down, and with a firm hand run over the breadth from one -end of the room to the other, going by the seam or thread, lengthwise. -When at the farther end lift up the box so that it will not touch the -carpet, and, turning round, proceed till the whole length of the carpet -has been swept; then begin widthwise and proceed in the same manner, -only be careful to run straight. If the “sweeper” is turned round while -resting on the floor, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span> dirt is apt to drop out in rolls by the -process of turning. It requires a little experience and good judgment -to use a “carpet-sweeper” judiciously; but once understand it and you -will not willingly be without one. When this work is done, empty all -the dirt from the “sweeper” and comb the rolling-brush with a coarse or -“fringe-comb.”</p> - -<p>But to return to the moths. If they get inside your furniture, they -may be destroyed by taking off the muslin under the seats, the outside -ends, and the backs, where they most naturally seek privacy. If this -must be done, take each piece out to the yard or on a back veranda, -after you have removed the lining; spread down an old sheet and set the -furniture on it, and beat with a stick to dislodge the moths. Watch for -the flies and worms that you have routed, and kill them as fast as they -are seen. If you do not succeed in killing all of them, by a repetition -of this operation a few times they will be disturbed and leave the -furniture, as they seek to be left in quiet. If they attack the carpet -they generally begin under the sofas and chairs or on the edges of the -carpet in the corners of the room. In this case, as soon as you find -the first intimation of their ill-omened presence, spread a wet sheet -on the carpet, and pass a hot flat-iron over quickly; keep a number of -irons heating and change often. The heat and steam will destroy both -worm and egg.</p> - -<p>But do not let this success beguile you into any remissness. They can -“creep slyly through a tiny space,” and in a few weeks, if they find -you sleeping on your post, will effect an entrance, and will have -increased and multiplied until the last state of that furniture will be -worse than the first.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XL">XL.<br> -WINTER BUTTER.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">M</span>UCH has been said and written on making winter butter. Our papers -bring daily complaints of the article as sold in our markets, and -furnish us with many elaborate directions how to overcome an evil which -can no longer be meekly endured.</p> - -<p>In large butter factories, with every facility for preserving uniform -temperature, it is not easy to accept any excuse for poor butter, -summer or winter; but when butter is only made in small quantities, -simply for family consumption, and at a time when the cows are giving -much less milk than in the summer and fall, there is a necessity for -more care and labor in securing good butter than when we can furnish -green pastures and fresh food for the cows. Still we all expect, and -should be willing to accept, more discomforts in our winter’s labors -than we find in warm weather. Aside from these considerations we fail -to see any insurmountable difficulty in securing good sweet butter in -the winter. Of course we do not look for yellow butter at this season -of the year, and when we see it we distrust its purity; but the golden -color, though desirable, as a pleasure to the eye, is not an essential. -For years we made a large portion of our own butter from only one cow, -with but a few conveniences, and with very limited accommodations to -aid us in the work; but we never had <i>bitter</i> butter, and have -never found a good reason why any one should be compelled to suffer -from that infliction.</p> - -<p>In the first place, a great deal depends on having pure, clear milk -to start with, and to secure that we think a warm,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span> clean shelter and -good food should be provided for the animals. Aside from good hay, free -from mustiness, they should have as large a supply of roots—beets, -pumpkins, carrots, or potatoes, whichever is the most convenient, -or some of all—as you can furnish; but whatever is given should be -entirely free from decay, if you would have a healthy cow and pure milk.</p> - -<p>The milk will receive no unnatural flavor from any or all of these -roots; but no skill can conceal the use of cabbages or turnips, however -small the quantity. We know many affirm that they invariably give them -to their milch cows and perceive no disagreeable taste in the milk from -their use. Judging from much of the butter found in our markets, we -can easily believe that cabbages and turnips were lavishly fed to the -cows from whose milk the butter was made; and how any one can fail to -notice the unpleasant flavor given by such food we cannot understand. -Still, we will not quarrel with those who choose to use these esculents -so long as our cows are not fed with them and we are not obliged to eat -the butter.</p> - -<p>Warm food, at least once a day, is not only good for the animal, but -insures a better quality and larger quantity of milk and butter. It -is very little trouble to put a large kettle over the stove or range -early in the morning, and boil such small potatoes as are not nice for -table use, or a few carrots, together with all the parings of potatoes -or the rind of pumpkins left from cooking. When they have become soft, -mash with a long-handled masher, such as any boy of ten has sufficient -skill to make; then thicken the water in which they were boiled with a -few handfuls of “shorts” or coarse barley or oatmeal; corn meal will -decrease the quantity of milk and fatten the cow. Give your cows a -generous feed of this <i>mush</i> once a day at least, and they will -amply repay your care by increasing and enriching the supply of milk.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span></p> - -<p>With your cows thus fed, kept dry and warm, well cleaned and -curried,—for a cow needs that care as much as a horse,—you will have -good milk, and from it cream which, with proper care, can be as readily -made into <i>good</i> butter in winter as in summer.</p> - -<p>Now as to “proper care,” we speak only of private families who have -but one or two cows. If your milk-room is in the cellar, it should be -entirely separated from the vegetable cellar, and used for nothing -that can impart any flavor to the milk, either meats, roots, sauces, -or fluids. If it is well cemented and banked up, so as to prevent -freezing, you will have very little trouble in keeping the milk warm -enough for the cream to begin to rise quickly. Of course you will pour -boiling water into the pans, and have them well heated before straining -the milk into them. If you have on hand two sizes of pans, fill the -larger one third full of boiling water, then strain the milk into a -smaller pan, filling it not half full, and set it into the hot water; -turn another pan over the top, but not close enough to exclude all air. -By so doing you will find that the cream will rise more rapidly and can -be more easily churned. When one has but little milk, this is not much -trouble.</p> - -<p>If you have no cellar that can be kept warm and free from the smell -of vegetables, set your milk on a shelf, in a warm closet, where, of -course, you will keep no vegetables or meats, as nothing is so easily -impregnated with odors of all kinds as milk. Cover the pans or bowls -with a fine net, to exclude dust or motes of any kind.</p> - -<p>Thirty-six hours is as long as milk should remain unskimmed, summer or -winter. Every hour longer, even though the milk may taste sweet, is -insuring bitter butter. As you skim off the cream, stir it well each -time. The cream should not be in the cream-pot longer than two days -before churning. Three days <i>may</i> give you moderately good butter, -but it is a very doubtful experiment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span></p> - -<p>“But how can we churn every two days when we do not gather more than a -quart of cream in that time? It would be lost in our churn; we could do -nothing with it.”</p> - -<p>Take it into a large bowl, and beat or stir it steadily with a silver -or wooden spoon. It will take you no longer than to churn in the -regular manner, and you will secure a nice roll of sweet butter. But -a better, because an easier and more convenient way, is to buy a tall -one-gallon stone jar, and get a carpenter to turn you a handle; put -on two cross-pieces at the bottom, full of holes; or a circle small -enough to go into the jar; pierce this circle with holes as large as a -thimble; another circle for a cover, just to fit the top of the jar, -with a hole in the center that will slip over the handle, and you -have a nice churn, dasher and all. Now put on your large apron, lay a -book on the table before you, take your little churn in your lap or -on a bench by your side, and read, churn, and rock the cradle if need -be (reading and rocking the cradle are not essential, but are very -pleasant additions). In fifteen minutes’ steady churning you will find -the butter has come, and can be brought together in this tiny churn as -nicely as you can desire. If you can’t get at a carpenter, ask your -husband or son to do it; or, failing there, haven’t you mechanical -skill sufficient to make a dasher and fit it to a stone jar yourself? -A piece of a broom-stick, scoured and polished with sand-paper (or -if you have no sand-paper scrape it clean and smooth with a bit of -glass); two cross-pieces full of holes, screwed on to the bottom of the -stick; a round piece fitted into the top of the jar for cover,—you -can <i>whittle</i> it smooth, can you not?—with a hole for the handle -to pass through, and you have just as serviceable a churn as any -carpenter could make you, only, perhaps, lacking a little in the finish -a carpenter might have given.</p> - -<p>Now, as to the working of the butter: some say, wash it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span> faithfully; -others insist that no water should come in contact with the butter. -If you have strength and skill enough to work out all the buttermilk -with a ladle, or a hand cool and firm enough to toss it from one hand -to the other, giving quick, skillful blows as it passes, so that every -drop of buttermilk may be beaten out, then we say, <i>never wash the -butter</i>. But although you do, and by washing must lose some of the -rich flavor our mother’s butter used to have, before there were any -“modern improvements,” still, better so than not secure entire freedom -from buttermilk. If any remains, you cannot have butter that will keep -sweet one week.</p> - -<p>Take the butter from the churn into a wooden bowl that has been well -scalded, and then soaked and cooled in cold water, and with the ladle -press out all the buttermilk you can; this done, throw a handful of -salt into three or four quarts of cold water, and wash the butter -quickly and thoroughly with it; the salt causes the buttermilk to flow -off more readily; pour off the salt-water, and wash again with clear -cold water till it runs clear, drain off and sprinkle over the butter -what salt it requires to suit your own taste. There is such a variety -of tastes, that the exact quantity of salt cannot be easily given. We -use a table-spoonful of salt to a pound of butter. Press the butter -into a compact form, after working in the salt, cover over with a clean -cloth, and set it away to harden. The next morning break up and work -it over once more; make into neat rolls or prints, put it into a stone -pot, and cover with brine strong enough to bear up an egg. Try this and -see if you cannot have good butter in winter.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLI">XLI.<br> -REPAIRS.</h2> -</div> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“The mother, wi’ her needle an’ her shears,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Gars auld claes look amaist as weel’s the new.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">A</span> FRIEND writes: “I have been much interested in the Grand Patching -and Darning Exhibition; but my husband is rather skeptical as to any -great good resulting from it. He seems to think it a waste of time to -do this work with such particularity, and doubts if, in these days -of plenty, women will find it necessary to patch, piece, and darn so -elaborately. I reply, that probably a large portion of those who have -seen or read of this work may never be called upon to do it; yet we -know that there are many, very many who are, and will be, compelled to -<i>economize material, though at the loss of time</i>; and therefore I -think this exhibition will prove a good thing, if it should lead to a -more thorough knowledge of the way to do this work well. How much more -respectable and comfortable the poorer classes could be made, if the -wife and mother understood how to piece, patch, and darn neatly, and so -contrive that the smallest scrap could be used to good advantage and -present an attractive appearance. I wish you would give us a talk on -this subject.”</p> - -<p>So much has been said, and well said, since this Exhibition was first -planned, that a word from us may seem quite superfluous. A motherly -care for our “Household,” however, tempts us to venture, though we -do not intend to weary our readers with many words. Every point has -already been ably discussed, and we can furnish nothing new.</p> - -<p>Possibly, many of those who have read about this “Darning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span> and -Patching” have turned away, saying, “Thank fortune! I shall never need -to employ myself about such work; I should feel that I was spending my -time foolishly.” Would the time spent in perfecting yourself in this -accomplishment be more wasted, think you, than that which you give -daily to crocheting and embroidering a host of things unlike aught in -heaven above, the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth? And -yet, the time spent in fancy work has taught you little that you could -turn to practical use, should reverses befall you,—and who is secured -against reverses? Fortune is fickle, and policies taken out in her -insurance companies are not reliable.</p> - -<p>We would not speak slightingly of many kinds of really elegant fancy -articles and ornaments which women’s skill has wrought. If you have the -time to spare, then, “these ought ye to have done, but not to leave -the other undone.” Should disaster come, and any of us be compelled to -“rise up early, and sit up late, and eat the bread of carefulness,”—to -plan and turn and contrive, using all the skill we possess to “gar auld -claes look amaist as weel’s the new,”—how thankful we should be that -in our younger and more prosperous days we had been taught this art, -and by it were now able to carry with us into our altered circumstances -a power to bring light out of darkness. If one knows how to renovate -and remodel, there is far more genuine pleasure in using the knowledge -to construct new out of old, than can possibly be gained while shopping -on the most extravagant scale. To walk into a store with a full purse, -and buy, without stint, whatever the eye covets; to send the material -to the dress-maker, and have it made and brought home without any -effort on our part, is a tame enjoyment compared with contriving the -dress from a scanty pattern, or from odd bits and ends. We weary of -that which costs us no toil or thought; the charm soon vanishes, and we -seek for something new.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span></p> - -<p>Now, suppose you examine a dress that has done good service. It is -somewhat spotted and a good deal soiled; but you say, “It is so pretty -and becoming, I shall feel like losing an old friend if I throw it -aside; what can I do to renew its beauty?” If the material is silk or -woolen, even of the most delicate colors, you can very easily clean -it without fading. After ripping it with care, prepare equal parts of -<i>alcohol, soft soap, and molasses</i>. Half a pint of each will clean -a silk dress, unless you have wasted twenty-five or thirty yards on one -dress; in that case you will need a larger quantity of the preparation. -Have near you two small tubs or pails of water, one warm, the other -cool, unless the material is woolen, when you should use hot water for -both. Spread one piece of the dress at a time on to an ironing-sheet; -dip a clean sponge into this very dirty-looking, but very effective -wash; rub each spot separately till you have cleansed it; then, keeping -the sponge wet, go over the whole piece, wetting it thoroughly, and -carefully removing the dirt and spots. When satisfied that you have -done your best, rinse the piece faithfully in the first water; do not -wring it, but hold it up and let it drain a moment; then shake and snap -vigorously, to remove as much water as you can. Put it through the -second water in the same manner; snap as dry as you can, at least so -that it will not drip; spread smoothly on the ironing-sheet, and iron -quickly. Be careful to <i>iron by a thread</i>, and iron till perfectly -dry. Have your irons as hot as you can use without scorching. If the -material is the same on both sides, iron on that which was first used -as the outside of the dress, but make it up inside out.</p> - -<p>This preparation is such a vile, dirty-looking compound, one would -suppose it would ruin anything touched by it. Not so at all. We have -cleaned the most delicate silks and ribbons,—blues, violets, pinks, -and greens,—and have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span> never failed to secure a very good renovation of -the materials, without changing or weakening the color, or leaving the -harsh, stiff crackle on the silk which washing usually gives.</p> - -<p>Having cleansed the dress, now, suppose you see how much ingenuity you -can display in remodeling it. Change the gathers or pleats, that the -most wear may fall on stronger spots; alter the position of trimming -to hide some weak place, or improvise something to suit the exigencies -of the case. If cracked or much worn at top and bottom, cut off all -that must go; then cut the upper part of the skirt off from the bottom, -about as high up as you wish your trimming to go, and set in a piece -of lining or paper muslin, to supply the length of what you have cut -away from the broken parts of the skirt. Over this “sham” lay the fold, -puff, ruffle, or flounce you have prepared for trimming. It is good -economy, we think, to buy a large pattern when you get a new dress, -that there may be some left for repairs, at least for new sleeves and -waist; but if you have none, <i>piece</i>,—piece very neatly, of -course; and with ribbon, silk, or velvet, of a color to contrast, or -harmonize with the dress, form your trimmings.</p> - -<p>By skill, a garment may be so entirely metamorphosed, that your -“dearest and best” will compliment you on your new dress. The only good -thing about the present style of overskirts, flounces, paniers, bows, -and every conceivable and inconceivable shape of trimming, is, that it -is a wonderful help in making old things new.</p> - -<p>Some time since, we noticed that a young friend, who is generally -remarkably neat and simple in her taste, was rather more elaborately -dressed than usual. We honestly complimented her on the pretty silk, -the fine fit, and very becoming color.</p> - -<p>“But I see,” said she, “you refrain from a word of commendation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span> for -my trimmings. They don’t suit your taste, I know, my friend, and pray -don’t think that they are in exact accordance with my own. Let me tell -you a secret. Every bow, band, strap, fold, and frill hides a piece set -in or a hole mended.”</p> - -<p>In the midst of a large company, there was not a lady that appeared -more genteelly or better dressed than our friend. If there were more -like this modestly independent and industrious girl, we should hear -very little of the talk, so common nowadays, that young men are unable -to marry, <i>because</i> the young ladies are so extravagant.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLII">XLII.<br> -ACCURATE WEIGHTS AND MEASURES IN COOKING.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">Y</span>OUNG housekeepers very often complain that, notwithstanding their -most earnest efforts to work in strict accordance with given rules or -receipts, their failures are more frequent than their successes. They -admit that sometimes their work proves satisfactory, but ask, “Why -should it not always be so?”</p> - -<p>The difference in the results of their various trials can only -be attributed to the method and accuracy, or to the haste and -carelessness, with which their labor is performed. Unless there was -some fault in the materials, some difference in the quality, arising -from change between the successive trials, or the oven and fire were -not properly regulated, there can be no reason for the failure, except -the fact that the receipts and rules were not always strictly followed.</p> - -<p>“But,” say they, “we used to see our mothers throw the materials -together, apparently without thought, and we have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span> often seen others -set about the work of making cake, pies, or bread with such an easy, -nonchalant air that, to our inexperienced eyes, it was perfectly -marvelous that any good results could possibly follow; yet the article -would come from the oven in all respects perfect. Time after time we -have seen this done, and the work always blessed with a satisfactory -termination; but if we attempt that mode of labor, the most disastrous -and mortifying consequences are sure to rise up against us. Why is -this?”</p> - -<p>Simply because you are attempting to walk before you have learned to -creep, and naturally get some sore falls by the premature attempt. -It is only when accustomed to this labor by long years of constant -practice, so that it is done almost by instinct, that any one should -venture to deviate from strict observance of well-established rules. -But there are very few, comparatively, of the most accomplished and -mature housekeepers who attempt this free-and-easy way of cooking; or -if, in some emergency requiring haste, they are driven to it, they -will assure you that they seldom succeed so perfectly as they would -have done had they weighed and measured with their usual care and -precision. Occasionally we find a few natural-born cooks, with “a law -unto themselves,” just as we find persons who have a natural gift -for dress-making and millinery, whose work, performed instinctively, -equals any French <i>modiste’s</i>. But such cases are rare, and, we -are inclined to think, undesirable, except for one’s own ease. Where -there are young girls about, either in the family or among friends, -who may be obliged to look to you for instruction, you would find it -very difficult and embarrassing, had you that gift, to attempt to teach -or put into words anything which you are able to do so entirely by -intuition. Even in your own mind, you would find yourself at a loss how -to frame a definite rule or receipt for doing it. Your <i>hands</i> -seem to perform it independently of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span> your <i>head</i>. Let some of -these gifted ones attempt to write out a receipt which a beginner could -easily follow, and they would make much more awkward work of it than -you do in your efforts to work without a definite rule.</p> - -<p>“But even when we do proceed in exact accordance with the receipts, we -often fail.”</p> - -<p>Are you sure you are <i>exact</i>? We think not. It requires some -little experience to be able to weigh and measure correctly, and we -have often noticed that it is the lack of this experience which causes -failure in most young housekeepers. If it lacks “only a little” of -being full weight, or is “only a little” too much, are you not very -likely to say, “O, it’s quite near enough; such slight difference can’t -matter, and I am in a hurry”?</p> - -<p>“Only a little thing” has done much harm in almost every department of -life,—a mischief that is often irremediable. If there is only a little -too much flour, your bread or cake will be solid; not heavy, perhaps, -but lacking that light, tender state which is so desirable. Or, if only -a little less than the proper measure is used, it will “fall” from the -crust, and come upon your table flat and sodden.</p> - -<p>A pair of scales and accurate measures are the only safe reliance, -but these are not always to be found in every family. It is, -therefore, very desirable to have always at hand a table of correct -<i>measures</i>. Indeed, when the table is perfect, it is much more -convenient and easier to prepare the proper proportions by measuring -than by weighing, only one must use care and judgment to allow for any -extraordinary moisture in the articles, as it would affect a measure -more than scales. It is always better to put flour, meal, sugar, etc., -near the fire to dry before measuring.</p> - -<p>A table of measures, plainly printed in good-sized type, should be hung -over the table or on the wall in every kitchen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span></p> - -<p>We close with a convenient table of <i>liquid and dry measure</i>:—</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap center">Liquid.</span></p> - -<table class="autotable"> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">60 drops</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 teaspoonful.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2 teaspoonfuls</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 table-spoonful.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">4 table-spoonfuls </td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 half-gill.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">8 ”</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 gill.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2 gills</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 tumblerful or half-pint.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2 tumblerfuls</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 pint.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2 pints</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 quart.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">4 quarts</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 gallon.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Dry.</span></p> - -<table class="autotable"> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2 even teaspoonfuls</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 even table-spoonful.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">4<span style="margin-left: 1em;">”</span> <span style="margin-left: .8em;">table-spoonfuls</span></td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 ounce.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">8<span style="margin-left: 1em;">”</span> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">”</span></td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 gill.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2 gills</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 tumblerful or half-pint.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2 tumblerfuls</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 pint.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2 pints</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 quart.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">1 heaped q’t sifted flour </td> -<td class="tdl" rowspan="3"> <span class="triple">}</span>= about 1 pound.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">1<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">”</span> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">”</span><span style="margin-left: 2em;">sugar</span> </td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">1 even q’t softened butter</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">1 pint of water</td> -<td class="tdl">= 1 pound.</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">10 eggs</td> -<td class="tdl">= about 1 pound.</td> -</tr> -</table> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLIII">XLIII.<br> -TEACHING LITTLE GIRLS TO SEW.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“Y</span>ES, I suppose I shall be obliged to teach my little girl to sew, some -time; but I am very thankful that I have some years yet before I need -take up this cross. I supply her with bits of cloth, needles, thread, -and scissors, and let her amuse herself with an attempt at sewing; but -how I dread the time when I must begin in earnest, and try to teach her -the proper way! I sometimes hope that by letting her botch and play -sewing, by and by, as she sees me making even seams, and taking small -stitches, she will, by imitation and observation, gradually learn, -without much effort on my part. Do you not think that she may?”</p> - -<p>Never. No doubt some children learn with much less effort than others; -but by letting your little girl “play sewing,”—<i>botching</i> as you -term it,—you only connive at her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span> acquiring a careless habit which she -will not easily exchange for straight seams and tiny stitches.</p> - -<p>“Would you advise me to keep thread and needles and cloth from her, and -endeavor to interest her in some other play, till such time as I am -compelled to teach her how to use them properly?”</p> - -<p>No; why should you debar her from such innocent amusements? Why not -begin at once to teach her how to do a thing right, even when in play?</p> - -<p>“Teach that baby! What can she learn at her age?”</p> - -<p>Can she not thread her needle?</p> - -<p>“Certainly; quite expertly.”</p> - -<p>And can she not push her needle in and out of the cloth?</p> - -<p>“O yes; for a baby, she shows quite a genius for this quiet kind of -womanly accomplishment.”</p> - -<p>Then you see she can learn something, notwithstanding her youth. How -much more maturity or skill, think you, will it require for her to -learn, by a few well-directed efforts on your part, how to put the -needle in at proper distances, taking up only just so many threads for -a stitch?</p> - -<p>“Why, she is only a baby; but little past three years. Teach her! How -preposterous! You must be—”</p> - -<p>Growing imbecile, you think. Very likely; but these ideas are no -indication of it. They are good, solid common-sense, we think; such -as our mothers and grandmothers acted upon, in the olden times, when -early teaching and genuine industry were fashionable; when there were -more busy bees to “improve each shining hour” of childhood; when these -first years, which were then passed in “books and work and healthful -play,” were a thousand times more childlike and happier than our days -of modern improvement. Now, the toddling wee things are carried in the -nurses’ arms to infant parties, dressed and flounced and frizzed, until -every vestige of simple childhood is lost in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span> their painfully ludicrous -efforts to imitate their more foolish elders,—kept up far beyond a -healthful bedtime, and fed with food injurious even to mature stomachs, -but ruinous to a child’s digestion. Ah, dear little woman! will it be -a harder task, requiring more skill and patience, to take your little -girl on your lap, ten or fifteen minutes every day, and show her how -to hold and use the needle; taking the warm, soft, innocent little -hands, with loving caresses, into yours, and guiding the tiny fingers, -until at last she learns to put the needle through the cloth, at proper -distances, unaided; will this be harder or more tiresome than to dress -and worry over your little one till she is drilled in dancing, taught -to bow and curtesy, and gracefully accept her baby partner’s hand in -the dance? Will it give you no pain to see the first development of -envy, jealousy, and ill temper forced into active growth under such -training? Compare this toil and responsibility with the soft and loving -prattle of your little girl, as she nestles in your lap, and, with -merry laugh, watches the bright needle go to and fro; and when at last -she masters one stitch, and you pronounce it <i>well done</i>, will not -her shout of triumph repay the teacher’s trouble? Will it any longer -be a work to dread? On the contrary, will you not look forward to that -daily lesson as the sweetest duty of the day?</p> - -<p>“All this sounds very pretty; but when we come to the reality,—the big -stitches, the long stitches, the puckers and gathers, the mistakes and -vexatious carelessness,—how many yards of cloth will be wasted before -one inch of decent sewing can be accomplished by a little child?”</p> - -<p>Not one. Cut out a little block of patchwork. Tell the child that she -may make a quilt for her doll’s bed just as soon as she can do it well. -Use pretty, bright colors. Take her on your lap, and show her how a -stitch must be taken, making merry, gentle speeches to her as the work -goes on.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span> “See, pet, you must take up two of these threads on that -side, and put your needle through two more on the other side, then pull -the needle through; that’s one stitch; mamma did that. Now let’s see -the little girl take one just like it. No, no; let mamma hold your hand -steady. There, that’s right. Now you may try again. See, you have taken -up a <i>leetle</i> too much on that side. We’ll just pull that out, -I think, and try again. It was pretty well, but a little bit longer -than the last, and I guess Dolly won’t quite like it; so we’ll pull -it out, and be very careful next time. There, that’s my little woman! -You have made three nice stitches, and we will put up the sewing now, -and run out doors to play. When papa comes home, mamma will have to -show these pretty stitches, and he will be very much pleased.” In this -way, it will not be many weeks before the square for Dolly’s small bed -will be finished, and you will say, “My little daughter has done it so -very nicely, I think we will have to make another, and piece the two -together to make a bigger quilt.” Before a year passes, we are sure you -will have a quilt large enough for your little girl’s own bed, every -stitch well done, and both mother and child drawn closer together and -made happier by each day’s lessons. It is, we think, a great mistake -while teaching a child to sew, to pass over very poor work, simply -because you think after awhile she will learn to do better; and you -will throw the few early attempts aside, rather than be at the trouble -of picking out imperfect stitches. Only a half-inch, or three or -four stitches a day, well done, is a great gain. Be gentle, but very -firm. Do not drill the child till it becomes weary, and will shrink -from a second trial; but yet, let it be well understood that every -stitch must be perfect before it will be accepted, and then be lavish -of praise when the effort is successful. Do not destroy the child’s -<i>first work</i>, thus carefully done. It will give you much pleasure -when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span> your daughter has become a woman, and be invaluable to her as an -evidence of your faithful teachings when you are forever hid from her -eyes.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLIV">XLIV.<br> -THE CARE OF POULTRY.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>E make no pretense to any great skill or experience in raising -poultry, and may not be able to furnish satisfactory answers to -questions which have been sent by some of our readers who appear -wellnigh discouraged by repeated failures; but we venture a few -suggestions which, if acted upon, will, we think, in part at least, -overcome some portion of their difficulties and perplexities, and may -be acceptable to others in their first attempt.</p> - -<p>The agricultural papers are filled with descriptions and -recommendations of many fanciful, and, no doubt, very excellent, -heneries and poultry-yards. We have very little acquaintance, however, -with these modern improvements. The few we have seen do not excite our -enthusiasm, and we cannot see that the income or gain in any degree -compensates for the extra expenditure. We do not learn that Nero’s -horses were much benefited when fed on golden oats and shod with -shoes of the same precious metal; nor do we believe hens sheltered -in sumptuous palaces will be more productive than our Leghorns and -Cochins. But each one has a right to his own peculiar fancies; we are -speaking now to those who have not yet found time or means to build -fancy heneries, but content themselves with more simple arrangements.</p> - -<p>We think it important, if possible, to have a good yard and commodious -hen-house, in which <i>laying</i>, <i>setting</i>, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span> <i>roosting</i> -apartments can be kept separate. These conveniences cannot always be -secured as ample and pleasant as is desirable; but however simple -the accommodations may be, it is indispensable that the building be -kept scrupulously clean if you would insure success. The <i>roost</i> -requires the most care. It should be swept out once a week, the poles -and sides being well brushed off with a stiff broom, and the loose -feathers and droppings from under the poles collected in barrels, -removed from the hen-house, and kept dry. It is an excellent manure or -guano, and very valuable when well composted.</p> - -<p>The same care is needed in the <i>laying</i> and <i>setting</i> rooms. -It is wise, once a week, to take all the straw from the nests, brush -the boxes out clean, and replenish with fresh straw. A little ashes -or a few bits of charcoal put under the straw helps to keep the nests -sweet. The old straw and filth should be put on the compost heap. In -the <i>setting</i> apartment the nests must not be disturbed till -the eggs are all hatched, and the little chicks, with their mother, -removed. Then the box must be emptied, well washed, dried, and -whitewashed, ready for a new occupant.</p> - -<p>It takes time and some trouble to keep the hen-house and yard always -clean; but it well repays the trouble, and, if well done every week, -will really take less time than to have a grand <i>clearing up</i> once -or twice a year. These clearing days in dwellings or outbuildings are -great nuisances and torments, making every one cross and uncomfortable; -but if in each department it is understood that everything must always -be put into its appropriate place, and that once a week the whole is to -be tidied up, the most careless, if once tempted to try the experiment, -would be astonished at the increased ease of the labor, and the -pleasure would certainly be fourfold.</p> - -<p>Every fall and spring and once at least during the summer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span> the birds -should all be turned out of the house and yard, that the inside of -the building may be well smoked with sulphur, and then thoroughly -whitewashed, to secure the destruction of the vermin and the good -health of the occupants. A day should be selected when no hens are -sitting, and then some charcoal must be kindled in an old tin or pan -kept for the purpose in each compartment, and some bits of sulphur -sprinkled over the coals when well burning. This done, shut the doors -and windows tightly, and leave the sulphur to burn out, which it will -do in a few hours; then throw open the doors and windows and let in -the air. After this, every part must be well whitewashed, filling all -cracks, holes, or corners with the wash,—particularly the nests or -boxes for the laying and sitting hens. Sprinkle a few small bits of -charcoal in the nests, when dry, to keep them sweet; fill them with -fresh straw, and recall the fowls to their clean home.</p> - -<p>A box or bin of wood-ashes should be placed in one corner of the -roosting apartment, and kept always filled, and free from filth, for -poultry to roll in and free themselves from vermin as far as possible.</p> - -<p>The roost should be made so that the poles can be raised or let down at -pleasure. In the winter, have the poles raised as high as may be, as -the heat ascends, and the fowls need as warm a place as possible for -winter. In summer, lower the roost, that they may sleep where the air -circulates freely. If possible, provide a good roomy yard back of the -hen-house, where the hens may have ample space to range. Plums do well -in such yards, and the hens do much toward destroying the curculio. Old -pans or wooden troughs filled with water must be kept in the yard, that -the hens may have drink at all times. If you have plenty of skim-milk -or buttermilk, they will be grateful for all you can spare, and show -their gratitude by the increase of their daily offerings.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></p> - -<p>Heaps of old plaster or oyster-shells must be kept in different parts -of the yard; if part of the shells can be burned and pounded, it will -be better. Any slops from the house will be of great benefit; and if -no pigs are kept, everything that is thrown into the “swill-pail,” not -salt, can be used to advantage. Keep all water in which potatoes and -vegetables are boiled; throw their parings or skins into it, and after -each meal put in all refuse bits, bring this water to a boil, stir in a -handful or two of coarse meal, and in winter feed it to the hens warm, -and you will find it very acceptable and profitable. Every scrap of -fresh meat, soup bones, but no <i>salt</i> meat, will do them good. If -near a butcher’s shop, he will sell you for a few pennies, or give you, -the “lights” or the head of one of the animals. Chop it up and throw it -into the poultry-yard. Worms and grasshoppers will help them through -the summer months; but they must have something in the way of fresh -meat in winter. Every morning and evening scatter cracked or whole corn -about the yard in a clean place. In picking it up, they will take with -it a little gravel, which is very necessary to keep them healthy.</p> - -<p>In many cases it is not convenient or thought necessary to provide a -hen-house and yard, all the poultry being allowed to roam at will over -the premises. A little care will train them to keep from doing any -great mischief in the gardens; but you must not expect too much; if -you have grapes, currants, or small fruit, these will be too tempting -for a hen’s nature to resist, and, in the end, it will be found to be -worth considerable sacrifice of time and money to place them out of the -reach of temptation. Besides, if they are allowed to roam, you cannot -track their nests at all times, and you will be left without an egg in -the house when most needed. With very little care, and by selecting the -best and most reliable breeds, this need never happen where hens are -kept in an inclosure and with a suitable house. The pure<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span> Leghorns molt -but six weeks in the year,—in November and December. If they bring -out their broods the first of April, the pullets will begin to lay in -October, just as their mothers begin to molt. If hatched in August or -early September, they will lay by the first of April; so that part of -the hens will be laying all the time. Some people kill off their hens -as soon as the pullets begin to lay, thus having no molting fowls on -their premises; but we think this foolish. The second year’s eggs are -usually larger, and a hen may be kept profitably for three or four -years. Our own experiments lead us to think the White Leghorns and -Cochins the best layers.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLV">XLV.<br> -INSTITUTIONS FOR THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">V</span>ASSAR is, we think, the first college for women ever established. The -liberal provision for its maintenance, in accordance with the wishes -of the founder,—the chapel, library, cabinet, recitation-rooms; the -houses for the professors; the dormitories for the students; the -dining-hall and kitchen; the laundry and the bakehouse,—every needed -accommodation, are all completed in the most approved manner. The -whole is heated by steam, and lighted by gas. Here physical culture -receives all the care that modern science and experience can give. A -floral garden is managed by the young ladies. Gymnastic exercises, -horseback riding, driving, boating, or skating have their full share -of encouragement and attention. The whole establishment and its -arrangements are most excellent, securing a suitable amount of exercise -to insure good health, and also clear heads for the hours devoted to -study.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span></p> - -<p>But in this generous provision for accomplishments for our young -daughters, and thorough training in all healthful exercise, there -seems to have been one department entirely overlooked, which certainly -demands a large share of attention, and where, we think, faithful -instruction in the rudiments should, in connection with other -departments, begin in the earliest and most simple lessons, with the -full understanding that it must go hand in hand with other branches -through the whole course. We mean a full and most thorough instruction -in all that belongs to domestic economy and household lore.</p> - -<p>The preparatory instruction and full collegiate course, in a girl’s -education, should embrace more years than are thought necessary to -prepare a boy to graduate and enter upon the duties of manhood, because -we are sure our girls’ minds are overburdened by an attempt to crowd -too many studies into each year, thus keeping them constantly hurried -and overtaxed. They have many things to do while in school that boys -are not expected to do, or, at any rate, which they never undertake. No -young lady, we trust, would sit down to her studies, in the morning, -until her room was neatly put in order. Many little touches are needed -to secure this, which they cannot depend upon a chamber or parlor maid -to do well, and which it would not be consistent with womanly neatness -to leave undone. Then a girl has her wardrobe to watch over; rips to -mend, buttons to replace, and numerous other things which a boy has -done for him or leaves undone. In girlhood as in later life, woman’s -duties are more complex and varied than man’s. There are so many little -things, insignificant in themselves, but of wonderful importance, in -that skillful combination which must be woven together to make the -perfect whole in a woman’s character, that it is unsafe to skim lightly -over any. Some items appear very trifling and unimportant,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span> when not -viewed as connecting links, without whose aid the whole noble structure -must be incomplete.</p> - -<p>No one can tell, while the process of constructing and perfecting is -going on, through what deep and stormy waters the precious bark, once -launched, may be compelled to force its way. Therefore it is wise, in -laying the foundations, to be sure that no timber, screw, or rivet, -however insignificant it may seem at the time, has been discarded or -insecurely fastened.</p> - -<p>Even if it could be guaranteed that most of the young ladies who -graduate from our excellent seminaries would never be placed in a -position where they might find it convenient, if not necessary, to -labor to secure home comforts, or prepare food for husband or children, -yet there is no place free from care, where it would not be more -conducive to comfort and happiness for the mistress, not only to know -thoroughly what was proper to be done about the house, but also to know -how to do it herself, should it ever be necessary. To know how to do it -well will do no harm; <i>not</i> knowing how may sometimes subject one -to great discomfort and mortification.</p> - -<p>We once called on a lady of great wealth. Her establishment and -style of living demanded a large retinue of servants, who received -the highest wages. There had just been some disturbance among her -servants. The cook, receiving forty dollars a month, imagined that her -subordinate in the kitchen did not render her the proper assistance. -She, the sub-cook, was quite above such service as was exacted. Neither -would yield, and both left. The waitress, laundress, and nurse had -been nursing a feud for some time, which only needed this explosion -in the kitchen and the atmosphere it engendered to develop the final -catastrophe. The noise and smoke of the battle had but just subsided -when we rang the bell, which was answered by the lady herself with a -laughing, happy face, in no wise ruffled by this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span> unusual state of -things. After our errand was done, she was led by it to tell us a merry -story of the day’s experience.</p> - -<p>“And what will you do now?”</p> - -<p>“O, I have sent my dressing-maid to the nursery, sent the seamstress to -look for others to replace the deserters, and the coachman to market. I -will attend the door till they return, and then I mean to surprise my -husband on his return with a dinner of my own cooking. Mother used to -let me <i>play cook</i> sometimes when I was young. She thought every -girl should at least know how to get a dinner. I learned a good deal -then which I think I have not forgotten, and I owe it to her that this -little disturbance, the first I have had, doesn’t trouble me at all.”</p> - -<p>To be sure, those who keep but one or two servants will think that -she had but little to disturb her while a dressing-maid, seamstress, -and coachman were on hand. But we think those who keep the greatest -number of servants are the most to be pitied, and when changes come it -requires much patience and some skill to rearrange those who remain, if -one extra step is demanded of them.</p> - -<p>We know two little girls whose mother is training them to meet such -inconvenient changes when they are women, in the same independent -spirit. They have a large-sized <i>toy cooking-stove</i>, but one in -which they can make <i>real pies</i>, as the little ladies say, and -real bread and real cake can be made on it, though of lilliputian size. -The stove is kept in mother’s room, the pipe passing into the nursery -flue. They have a little molding-board and rolling-pin, and all needed -implements on a small scale, and no richer reward can be given than -to be allowed to bake a cake, or something of their own making, to be -placed on the family table. Of course they work under mother’s eye and -by her instructions, and in later years these little girls will thank -their mother for this early teaching.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span></p> - -<p>This <i>playing cook</i> is an easy and pleasant way of teaching little -girls the first lessons, and if, as in other days, they were fully -taught at home the very important accomplishment of housekeeping by -their mothers, there would be no necessity for a union of domestic -and intellectual institutions in our schools and seminaries; but, -unfortunately, very few, comparatively, of the mothers of the present -day have health to teach their daughters as thoroughly as would be -satisfactory or available; or, if health be given, the disposition to -devote their time and attention to the matter is wanting. For this -reason we see no better way than to have this part of our girls’ -education incorporated, if possible, with the other branches taught -in schools and colleges, so that sewing, sweeping, washing, and -cooking—all minutiæ of household knowledge—may be as fully taught -as reading, writing, or the so-called higher studies; or, if this -union is not possible, at least the domestic education might be made -a supplementary course,—the scholars understanding that no one can -“graduate” until she has passed through that department.</p> - -<p>We fear the good old times of mother-teaching will not very soon -be revived, and our idea of uniting this important part of woman’s -education with that which is thought higher and more intellectual arose -from the impression that, if not in some way instructed in home duties, -our girls in the course of four or five years of sedentary life would -acquire a distaste for more active employment, or, having destroyed -their health by injurious and long-continued application, would be -utterly incapacitated for it.</p> - -<p>We offer these suggestions in the hope that the attention of some -of our progressive spirits may be called to this subject with more -effective earnestness than has been shown.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLVI">XLVI.<br> -GREAT MISTAKES.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>HEN the weather becomes so warm that furnaces and large fires can be -dispensed with, the regular “spring cleaning” is usually commenced in -earnest. Until then, the most perfect housekeeper cannot prevent the -accumulation of ashes or fine dust, which, ascending from the furnace -or stove below with each morning’s renewal, will find a lodgment in -carpets and furniture, and can be fully removed only by a longer -process than can be given weekly. Were it not that the carpets and -furniture would be utterly ruined by the insensible deposit of dust -and ashes in the winter, and by flies, spiders, damps, and mold of -the summer, which by fall have been too much for the most vigilant -care, the great domestic terror over which gentlemen so pathetically -lament—a general “house-cleaning”—could easily be dispensed with. -Without those special troubles, we could get along, by good management, -with but very little general disturbance of the regular routine of -household cares, and no derangement of family comfort but what the most -fastidious could patiently and cheerfully submit to.</p> - -<p>The last touch to the perfect purification of the house, in the -estimation of many notable housekeepers, is to have the fireplace or -grate brightly polished, and the bricks on the back and sides either -whitewashed or painted (slate, drab, or some neutral color), and this -once satisfactorily accomplished, they are very sensitive if any wish -is expressed to have a fire kindled again before fall, preferring to -risk fevers or any of the malarial troubles so likely to result from -damp or cool nights and mornings, rather than see<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span> their clean, nicely -painted grates blackened by the action of fire.</p> - -<p>Now, we cannot but think this is a great mistake. So much sickness and -suffering may, we are convinced, be prevented by kindling a small fire -every night and morning, that all pleasure in the beauty of fresh, -pretty-colored grates and fireplaces is lost in the knowledge of the -price paid for it. A well <i>blackened</i> grate has more attractions -for us, as it speaks of dry rooms, rosy cheeks, and good health, -whereas unused and spotless bricks tell of rheumatism, chills and -fever, and pale, sallow faces.</p> - -<p>We first learned the great importance of these morning and evening -fires at the West, and should have been thankful to have learned it by -an easier way than through the rough school of experience. What was -a good theory and better practice in the new Western life is equally -beneficial in any locality where cool nights and mornings precede and -follow each day, or where sudden changes from dry to damp or rainy -weather may be expected. It is not at all necessary or wise in warm -weather to build large fires that will heat a room. Only so much is -needed as will suffice to dispel the chill damp of the atmosphere, of -which one is usually conscious on entering a room early in the morning -or soon after nightfall. A few sticks of light wood or a small fagot of -brush will suffice. In the city it is not always easy to find material -for this purpose; but in the country, whether in an old place or new, -there is no difficulty, and no excuse for neglect. Small sticks, and -any quantity of brush, from constantly needed repairs or pruning, -are always scattered about, which, if not daily gathered up, will -soon accumulate, till heaps of unsightly rubbish will meet the eye at -every turn. If only for the sake of neatness, and to <i>save time</i>, -all this should be daily removed. It is not much labor, and a very -short time is sufficient. If you have young boys or girls<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span> with you, -rightly trained to be useful, an hour or two of outdoor labor will give -them pleasant and healthful occupation. Provide them with a child’s -saw-horse and saw, a small, light hatchet, and a ball of strings, and -let them daily go out and collect such brush as may be lying around. -Show them how to cut it in proper lengths, and to tie the fagots -neatly. Then they can easily, with a light wheelbarrow, take them to -the wood-house or shed, and pile them ready for use. A half-hour’s or -an hour’s work every day will do this, and the young folks will not -feel it a burden. But if left a week or two, the brush becomes tangled, -the heap grows larger, and what should be only pleasant recreation -becomes a burden, perhaps really too heavy for children to undertake, -and either a man’s time must be given to the work, or industry and -labor be made repulsive to the young. That is also a great mistake. -But by having this work regularly done, at certain hours daily, by -your children, a threefold good may be gained: the house, grounds, -and surroundings can be kept free from disagreeable litter; the means -secured at the same time, with little labor and no cost, to preserve a -healthful atmosphere all through the house; and your children taught -a lesson in neatness and industry which they will not in after years -forget, and which, whatever their position in life, will always be -valuable.</p> - -<p>While among the pines and palmettos in the newly settled parts of -Florida, we looked with envious eyes on the “fat wood,” as it is -called, which lies around the clearings in the greatest abundance. A -few small sticks from these pine knots, at the first touch of a match, -start into a wonderfully bright flame, before which, while it lasts, -the light of our best kerosene lamps is obscured, and the morning and -evening dampness is expelled, so that comfortable but not heated air -is secured. We were pleased to see in these brilliant fires, regularly -kindled, strong proof of good common-sense.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span></p> - -<p>We believe full half the sickness which abounds in newly settled -countries or in malarial districts could be entirely prevented by this -easy, simple practice. At any rate, it would certainly be quite as -effectual as the innumerable and abominable doses which each section -of country accepts as the only cure; and it would have the advantage -of being a pleasant remedy, warranted not to produce some disease far -worse than the first.</p> - -<p>Another great mistake is the exclusion of sunlight from our houses. -We have spoken of this some time since, and wish the importance of -admitting the light of the sun freely, as well as building these early -and late fires, could be properly impressed upon our housekeepers. -No article of furniture should ever be brought to our homes too good -or too delicate for the sun to see all day long. His presence should -never be excluded, except when so bright as to be uncomfortable to -the eyes. And a walk in good, bright sunlight, before the heat is too -intense, is very beneficial, so that the eyes are protected by veil or -parasol when the light is inconveniently strong. A <i>sun-bath</i> is -of far more importance in preserving a healthful condition of the body -than is generally understood. A sun-bath costs nothing, and that is a -misfortune, for people are deluded with the idea that those things only -can be good or useful which cost money. But remember that pure water, -fresh air, sunlight, and homes kept free from dampness, will secure you -from many heavy bills of the doctors, and give you health and vigor, -which no money can procure. It is a well-established fact that people -who live much in the sun are usually stronger and more healthy than -those whose occupations deprive them of sunlight.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLVII">XLVII.<br> -STUDY TO MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N planning and furnishing a house, young people too often sacrifice -true taste and their own conscience for <i>style</i>; forgetting that -they should arrange a home for <i>comfort</i>, not for a temple of -fashion. So large a portion of the money set apart for the whole outlay -is expended in adorning their parlors,—the only part of a house which -is, in a measure, public property,—that they are compelled to cheat -themselves out of much comfort and convenience, when they come to the -furnishing of the real home, or family rooms, unless possessed of -wealth so abundant that expense becomes a secondary consideration. We -think the family sitting and dining rooms should receive more thought -and care than any other part of the house. Neatness, of course, should -be preserved everywhere, and the parlors be furnished with as much of -style and fashion as your means will warrant your expending to meet -your own desires, or in deference to public opinion, if you are at -all inclined to cater to its gratification. In your chambers study -neatness and convenience, and also in the kitchen; but when you turn -to the sitting and dining rooms, give yourself abundance of time to -deliberate over everything connected with these apartments, and, after -due consideration, begin the work, which, if rightly understood, will -be a toil of pleasure,—a labor of love, never ending; because every -week some pretty device or fanciful change or addition will occur to -you, by which you can add to its simple attractions, thereby giving -yourself great pleasure, and filling your heart with happy thoughts. -From the tone of the letter and question prompting this chapter, we -should<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span> not class its writer with those who desire a position among -the “fashionables,” whose greatest pleasure lies in parties, balls, -and theaters, or a ceaseless round of “calls,” and who would be made -perfectly miserable if compelled by any circumstance to pass a quiet -evening at home, with <i>nobody but their husband</i>. For such there -is no <i>home</i>. That word belongs to an unknown tongue, which their -hearts can never interpret.</p> - -<p>We are not at all in sympathy with those who take it for granted that -the husband is always the most to be blamed, if the club house or any -outside companionship has more attractions than his own home. When the -“twain are made one flesh,” if the union is consummated through love, -and not from mercenary reasons, the heart of the husband will be drawn -most naturally, in his leisure hours, toward the companion he has -chosen from all others; and in these early days it rests chiefly with -her to make all the surroundings of the home committed to her care so -attractive that his steps turn thitherward, because nowhere else can -he secure such true comfort and solid happiness. Having so begun, if -you continue thus to cast your spells about him, here in this pleasant -sitting-room, young wife, he will always prefer to spend his leisure -hours where your skill and taste make it more bright and restful than -any other resort can be. Now, in the earliest days of your wedded -life, before other cares engross your time and thoughts, you have the -opportunity to make <i>home</i> a word of sacred meaning, to learn its -true nature yourself, and to gather around it associations that shall -be lasting, and a safeguard through life.</p> - -<p>It is not by the “great sacrifices,” or “heroic devotion,” which -you speak of, that this blessing can be secured; but by <i>little -things</i>—daily acts—the work must be begun and the building -established on a firm foundation. Bear this in mind constantly while -planning the room, selecting the furniture,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span> and arranging the many -trifles that, combined, make a sitting-room peculiarly attractive. -Secure, if possible, a southern or eastern lookout, or both united. -Select pictures that are homelike, even if not the elaborate work of -some great artist; those do not always give the greatest pleasure. -Flowers and vines about the room or in the windows add wonderfully to -the cheerfulness of any room, and to this particularly. Have neat, -white shades to exclude the sun partially during the mid-day hours, and -outside blinds to keep curiosity from sharing your evening enjoyments. -A book and piano are always desirable in a family room, even if you -have a <i>grand piano</i> for your parlors. Select the easiest and -most comfortable lounges and chairs, taking time to look in several -manufactories before you decide; for hard, unyielding sofas and chairs -are only fit for show or torture rooms. A commodious table for books, -and gas or lamps, suitable for writing, with convenient drawers to hold -all necessary writing-material, and your own work-stand in the corner, -are essential. These are always useful and convenient; but it is not -needful that we go into elaborate specifications. Your own taste and -love, if you set about the work in the right spirit, will teach you -better than any one else can do. Arrange the necessary articles and -all the embellishments with care and thought, so that when you stand -at the door and survey the work, the room shall lie before you like a -picture, speaking of cheerfulness, rest, and comfort. Here, if you show -your husband, from the first, that you are always interested in his -outside labors and duties, he will gladly come to talk over the day’s -doings; and it will not take long to teach him that a good, true wife -is the best adviser he can have,—that his business knowledge and your -womanly insight and tact, united, will solve dubious questions, and -unravel troublesome tangles, quite as safely and far more pleasantly -than any assistance and advice sought outside of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span> <i>home</i>. And -in after life, think you, will it not be pleasant to look back and -trace much of your happiness to the fascinations and attractions you -so skillfully gathered about the pleasant sitting-room, when you, as -“young people,” took sweet counsel together, and laid the foundation -for mutual confidence and true domestic peace? Had you secured the most -elegant parlors, but left this room cold and barren, negligently kept, -and destitute of any special attraction, do you think your prospects -of happiness would have been as bright? Or can you feel that you would -deserve that they should be? It is your work, young wife, to make the -<i>home</i>. Your husband may provide and furnish the means, but it is -for you to see that they are used for mutual happiness.</p> - -<p>Next to the sitting-room, the dining-room must be the most carefully -arranged. Strange how few give heed to this! It is sometimes a low, -dark, ill-constructed room, reached by stairs often unsafe by reason -of darkness, and usually opening so abruptly to the kitchen that the -appetite is destroyed the moment you enter by the fumes from cooking -which have been gathering in the dining-room all the morning; and the -pleasant intercourse which should enliven each meal is often sadly -interrupted by overmuch talking from the adjacent kitchen. If there -ever is dispute or misfortune there, it seems always destined to occur -while you are at your table. Our city dining rooms are too frequently -after this pattern. Here is some excuse; for we must expect, in one way -or another, to be “cabined, cribbed, and confined” in the city; but in -the free, bright country, there can seldom be any such excuse given, -and yet the same heedlessness with regard to anything pleasant in the -position of the dining-room is noticeable. Opening into a back yard or -clothes-yard, or overlooking the barn-yard, with nothing attractive or -cheerful,—this is thought good enough for a place to <i>feed in</i>. A -very great<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span> mistake; for here we should meet, not to eat hastily, and -rise up and go our ways, but there should be quite as much enjoyment in -free and cheerful conversation at the table as can possibly be secured -during the mere act of eating. A friend occasionally drops in; and when -children are gathered about the board, their little winning ways and -delightful prattle add wonderfully to the pleasure of the repast. Our -American men, when actively engaged in business, as a large proportion -of them are, often find the breakfast and dinner hours the only parts -of the day when they can see their children. It is time little folks -were asleep, generally, before the father closes his labors and returns -home for tea. For that reason, if for no other, the dining-room, in -every family, as being the place where, except on Sunday, the children -will have the best opportunity of seeing their father, should be made -bright, cheerful, and peculiarly attractive; because it will be more -closely associated in their minds with his presence. As they grow -older, they should be taught to give their aid in arranging fruit and -flowers for the decoration of the table and side-board before each -meal, “because papa will soon be here.”</p> - -<p>You may think these are all such <i>little things</i>, that you cannot -conceive it possible they should be of much importance in arranging a -house, or making home happy, and will probably feel that your question -has been unsatisfactorily answered. But, dear “young wife,” believe -me, it is by little things that you must make the house, now committed -to your charge, a happy one, and so attractive to your husband that -he can have no wish to seek pleasure elsewhere. It is not by any -great effort once in a while, but by the constant, daily evidence of -your thoughtfulness and care, that you will secure the confidence and -companionship you are so earnestly desiring and seeking after.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLVIII">XLVIII.<br> -THE CARE OF COOKING-STOVES AND RANGES.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">N</span>EXT to perplexities and trouble with servants, there is nothing that -so severely afflicts the careful housekeeper as the attempt to secure -attention to the cooking-stove or range. The reasons given for failure -in any particular point are innumerable, and all cast the burden of -blame on the poor, inoffensive stove. There never was such a miserable -cooking-stove. The fire won’t burn, or it burns too fiercely; the oven -won’t bake at all, or bakes so furiously that everything you trust to -it is ruined. It smokes, or the gas escapes, and fills the house with -the offensive odors; it burns out more coal in one day than should be -used in two; the dampers are useless, or the grate cannot be turned -over. There is scarcely a defect to be imagined but is charged to this -necessary evil,—the cooking-stove or range.</p> - -<p>In part, no doubt, these ceaseless annoyances spring from the -heedlessness or ignorance of the servants, but more frequently, we -think, it is because the mistress herself does not understand the -cause of the difficulty, or how to point out and remedy the mistakes. -It is impossible to expect a girl will be successful in managing the -fire and stove unless you are competent and willing to give her full -instruction, and are also ready to follow this up with constant daily -supervision, until time and a faithful trial convince you that the -subject is fully understood, and your injunctions regularly followed. -Even then <i>watch</i>, with all kindness and patience, not with a -fault-finding spirit, but because carelessness and forgetfulness are -bound up in the heart of almost every servant, and ceaseless vigilance -is your only protection from mistakes of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span> most mortifying and -vexatious character; and do you not know that such trials always come -at the most unexpected and inconvenient time? No doubt there are -occasionally servants found, or heard of, who are faithful, careful, -competent, and safe to be trusted in every particular; but they are, -“like angels’ visits, few and far between”; and it is wise for every -housekeeper to be as exact in her explanations, and as watchful in -seeing them executed, as if she knew her girl was totally ignorant of -everything about the stove or range, until well convinced that she -fully understands and regularly carries out her mistress’s lessons. -Then, if she fails, it is safe to look upon the failure as culpable -negligence, for which it would be very difficult to find a reasonable -excuse.</p> - -<p>Simply <i>telling</i> a servant how you wish the stove managed, or -anything else done, is by no means sufficient. To say to the new cook, -“Bridget, I wish you to be very particular in cleaning out your range -or stove every night before retiring, and have your kindlings and -coal all laid ready to start a fire in the morning,” will not secure -obedience. The answer will doubtless be, “O yes, mem, I always do -that.” Perhaps once in a great while you may find a cook that will do -this regularly; for it certainly, if they will only try it, is the -easiest way. But take nothing on trust. See with your own eyes before -you retire how much this <i>always</i> means. Too often it should be -translated, “when it suits my convenience.” Perhaps for a short time -it may be done in accordance with your wishes; but keep open eyes, or -nine times out of ten, in less than a month, you will be told, “I can’t -do anything with the range or stove.” “Have you thoroughly cleaned it -out each night as I directed?” “O yes, mem; of course I have.” Now, -either go to work yourself and see what is the matter, which is the -best way, or send for a man from a stove manufactory to examine. Stand -by <i>with the cook</i> to see the results of his examination. Of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span> -course the fire must be all out before he can do anything. He will then -remove every cover from the top, and most likely find the whole surface -perfectly clogged up with small bits of coal and piles of ashes, so -that the draught is obstructed; or, if the difficulty does not lie -there mainly, he will take out the slide to the pit under the oven, -and, notwithstanding cook’s assurances that it is regularly cleaned -out, you will find it filled with ashes up to the oven bottom; or the -grate has been so imperfectly emptied and cleaned that it is broken, -and clogged with <i>clinkers</i>, leaving hardly room to make a fire in -it. Now you have the whole mystery solved. All the girl’s protestations -and assurances of great care in keeping the stove in perfect order -cannot longer blind your eyes. A few such examples may not insure -cook’s future attention and truthfulness, but they will teach you, that -as the <i>foot of the master</i> is the only warrant for large crops -on a farm, or successful operations in any pursuit, so the <i>eye and -hand</i> of the mistress must ever be most vigilant and effective to -secure comfort in the house.</p> - -<p>There is no one convenience on which so large a part of house comfort -depends as on a good cooking-apparatus, whether in the form of stove -or range; and however perfect the patent, nothing can so easily be -put out of working order by careless management. Before starting a -new fire, examine if the stove has been thoroughly cleaned from the -last one; then open the dampers; roll up and put into the grate a few -pieces of paper,—or some shavings, if you can have them, are still -better; lay lightly on this some splinters or small bits of kindling -wood. Do not throw them on in a heavy mass, but so arrange them as to -give free breathing-holes; on this foundation put a few larger pieces -of pine kindling, and if you are hurried, and need a quick, bright -fire, sprinkle over a small shovelful of <i>coke</i>, if you have it. -Nothing kindles quicker than coke. Now replace all the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span> covers, and set -fire to the paper with a match, held underneath the grate. If lighted -from above, it must be, of course, before the covers are put on, and -that fills the kitchen with smoke. When the wood is well blazing, -before at all wasted, take off the covers and cross-piece (the paper -will have burned out by that time, and little smoke will trouble you), -and pour on the hard coal, scattering it evenly at the sides, but a -little heaped or rounded in the center. Be careful that the grate is -not <i>filled</i> <span class="allsmcap">ABOVE</span> <i>the fire-brick</i>. This is a very -important consideration, for if heaped above, it injures the stove, -burning out the iron-work, and obstructing the draught, so that the -coal cannot kindle readily, but wastes and smolders without doing much -good. As soon as the coal is well kindled, close the draughts, or -dampers, and you will have a clear, serviceable fire. It is a great -mistake to use a large amount of paper or kindling. The paper, when -burnt out, makes a smothering, black kind of ashes, that deadens the -fire, and the pine kindling, if used too profusely, fills the stove -with so much bituminous smoke as to clog the pipes needlessly.</p> - -<p>When your breakfast is dished and sent to the table, tell the cook to -raise a cover from the stove, and see if it would not be well to add -a small shovelful of coal to keep the fire in good working order; but -it will not be necessary to open the draughts until the breakfast is -over and the dishes washed and put away. When that is done, it will be -time to begin arrangements for dinner, and then the draughts should -be opened a few minutes, and the fire raked down or shaken, so as to -remove all the ashes; but <i>on no account stir it from the top</i>; -that kills the fire, turning the coals black. The ashes being removed, -lift off the two front covers and the cross-piece once more; pour on -more coal, always remembering not to fill above the fire-brick. The -object in lifting off both covers and cross-bar, instead of pouring -in the coal at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span> one hole, and pushing it across with the poker, as -most girls do, is to prevent the coal from scattering and lodging on -the plate of the stove, under the side covers. If this is done, the -coal remaining there prevents the heat from having a free circulation; -therefore every time the coal is added, even if both covers are -removed, giving a free opening to pour on what fuel is needed, it is -best to pass the poker under the side-holes, and see that the upper -plate is free from coal and ashes.</p> - -<p>We have written these simple directions at the request of a “very young -housekeeper,” who assures us that there are hundreds “longing for just -such instruction, who, fearing to expose their ignorance, are keeping -silent, subjecting themselves to all sorts of mistakes, which make -their husbands cross, and set themselves almost crazy.”</p> - -<p>We regret that any should feel ashamed to ask questions on household -matters, however simple. To answer them, if in our power, is pleasure, -and the questions are a great encouragement; for we often think we -have exhausted all that need be said, when some word from the “young -housekeepers” remind us of points which we have overlooked.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLIX">XLIX.<br> -THE OLD WAYS AND THE NEW.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T is interesting to note the changes and improvements which have been -made within the last half-century in almost all the conveniences and -implements which are needed in the preparation of food. It may be that -the ease and comfort by which this labor can be performed, through -these new contrivances, when compared with the old ways, and the -facility with which all classes, rich or poor, can and do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span> secure all -or some of these conveniences, has tempted to an indulgence in luxuries -regardless of economy or health. Perhaps the firm health and longevity -so common among our forefathers were in some degree owing to their -more simple diet; but also very largely, we think, to their healthful -activity and industry, and to the <i>early to bed, early to rise</i> -habits which their active life demanded.</p> - -<p>But, as the present generation have acquired extravagant tastes with -regard to food, as well as in dress, there certainly is cause for -gratitude that great improvements in the machinery by which such -work can be performed have kept pace with the cultivated taste that -demands so much more skill to gratify it. We doubt, however, if any -modern improvement can ever set before us food that will have the rare -excellence, the exquisite flavor, of that which used to come from our -mother’s great brick oven. Ah, the bread,—the rich-colored brown -bread; the creamy-white bread; the pies, puddings, and cakes!</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“’Twere worth ten years of modern life,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">One glance at that array!”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">We have yet to see the device which can compensate for the -loss of the old brick oven!</p> - -<p>But wishing will not restore it to us who live in cities or large -towns, unless we can bring back the old primeval forests, and, instead -of the “coal-bins,” possess again the old-fashioned wood-houses with -their rich stores of seasoned wood, piled high to the rafters; and the -huge piles of green wood in the yard, waiting for the leisure days to -be cut, split, and housed; or we must emigrate to the unsettled parts -of the West and South, which are still rich in splendid woodland, where -the settlers are cutting down the grand old forests, or wastefully -burning them. In their present haste to clear the land, they forget -their own future interest and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span> the comfort of their children, who, by -this waste and destruction, will be denied the luxury of wood fires, -and compelled to content themselves with coal, and all the annoyances -and discomfort connected with its habitual use. Coal is excellent for -the cook-stove; but it is a great sacrifice when none but the rich can -afford wood fires, in their family room at least.</p> - -<p>It may be difficult for the first occupants of wild lands to save -the great wealth of fuel, while hastening to open up their farms. -But it seems to us that it would be wise to preserve larger tracts -of woodland on any new farm or home-steads, as a provision for the -future; remembering that any ten acres thoroughly cultivated will -bring more abundant and better paying crops than thirty cleared but -poorly cultivated; <i>poorly</i>, because the owner uses the time in -cutting down the wood on the extra twenty acres which should have been -given to the careful cultivation of the ten. When we have been at the -West and South, at various times, it has been a source of continual -regret to see that which our large towns and cities so greatly need -recklessly given to the flames, knowing that the time cannot be far -distant when these young towns will feel the need of this fuel as much -as their elders. We cannot help thinking while we ride through the -burning forests, that even a woman could manage so that the forests -could be more largely preserved, and the trees which must fall be saved -and made useful and profitable; while the comfort and prosperity of -the possessor could be much increased by the economy, because the farm -would be brought under more careful culture, and thus sooner return -paying crops.</p> - -<p>But the thought of the well-beloved brick oven has led us into the -wilderness, and away from our subject.</p> - -<p>We were noticing the great difference between the ancient and modern -manner of cooking. Many of our readers remember and have often used the -brick ovens, the large old-fashioned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span> fireplace, the long crane, the -pot-hooks and trammel on it, and the great pots and kettles suspended -by them over the fierce fire,—the immense “roaster,” the “Dutch oven,” -the Johnny-cake baked on the “Bannock-board” before the glowing bed of -coals, while bright rows of apples were sputtering on the hearth. But -all these names are to your children like words in an unknown tongue. -They will never know the rich flavors gained only by this mode of -cooking; neither will they endure the pains and penalties by which this -knowledge was obtained. What would those tyrants of our households, -the modern cooks, say if compelled to swelter over the blazing fire, -or roast with the meats they are cooking upon the fiery coals on the -hearth?</p> - -<p>Some years since we were presented with one of Stewart’s stoves, which -proved so satisfactory that we never expected, and hardly desired, -anything better; and when, a few years later, we were persuaded to put -the “Peerless” in its place, although always very ready to try anything -new that promises to lighten or simplify the kitchen work, we confess -that it was with much reluctance that we consented to make the change, -being in no wise inclined to believe that it could at all compete with -our old and well-tried friend, the Stewart’s. But the stove proved -itself worthy of its name. “Peerless” it certainly has been, and in all -respects given us more comfort than any stove or range we have ever -used, baking equally in every part of the oven, and using much less -coal even than the Stewart’s. It is made by Pratt and Wentworth, of -Boston.</p> - -<p>We well remember when cook-stoves and ranges were first brought into -common use, and how positive the good housekeepers were that nothing -decent could be prepared with these strange contrivances. But only a -few days were needed to work a complete conversion. Since then, almost -every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span> year brings before the public some new range or cook-stove, or -marked improvements on the old. By and by we expect to see stoves and -ranges arranged for the use of gas, instead of coal, for cooking; and -if a better quality of gas than that which has tormented us for the -last few years can be furnished, we imagine any such invention will -bring us nearer to the perfection of cooking arrangements than has ever -been reached. To be free from smoke, and the dust and vexation of coal -and ashes, will indeed be a consummation most devoutly to be wished.</p> - -<p>But until gas can be thus used in the kitchen, housekeepers have reason -to be well satisfied with the many excellent ranges and stoves now in -general use.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="L">L.<br> -A FEW HINTS ON CARVING.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T is a great accomplishment to be able to <i>carve</i> well and -easily, without awkwardness; but it is one that receives altogether too -little attention. Too often it would seem that the host or hostess, or -whoever is called upon to perform this table duty, has no idea of there -being anything needed but to hack off in the most expeditious manner as -much meat as is required to satisfy the wants of those present, without -the slightest reference to the mode in which it should be done, or the -choice bits to be secured by careful carving. We have seen those who -in every other respect were true gentlemen and ladies, carve poultry -or a piece of meat in such a barbarous manner as to banish all desire -to eat, and almost the ability to taste the big, uncouth, mangled lump -that was put, or rather thrown, on the plate. To cut<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span> off a thick, -rough piece from any part that the knife happens to light upon first, -aside from being untidy and unpalatable, is also very wasteful. After -two or three such careless cuttings, the whole piece is so defaced and -uneven, that it is no longer possible to secure a decent looking bit: -and the bone is left with much adhering to it, in ragged morsels, which -dry and become worthless if left over to the next day, but which, had -the joint been properly carved, could have been sent to the table for a -cold relish for tea, in a neat and attractive form.</p> - -<p>Our ladies are seldom good carvers, and do not often attempt it. Few -have been taught, or thought it worth while to try and learn; but -in early times it was considered an indispensable part of a girl’s -education. The want of such knowledge often leaves one in an unpleasant -and embarrassing position; for to every one there occasionally comes -a time when the gentleman of the family must be absent, and the lady -must do the carving, or ask a guest or stranger, who may be even more -awkward than herself.</p> - -<p>To stand up while carving is not as proper or skillful a way of -doing the work as to be seated; but it is sometimes easier and more -convenient, and, if the table be at all crowded, less troublesome to -guests. In such cases it is quite allowable.</p> - -<p>The carving-knife must be sharp and thin. A large, broad-bladed knife -is needed for meats; a long, narrow, and sharp-pointed blade for -poultry and game; both should be kept in perfect order, and always -ready for use.</p> - -<p>When dished, poultry or game must be laid on its back, the breast -uppermost, for the greater convenience of the carver, who should put -the fork into the breast, holding the bird firmly, until he has taken -off the wings and legs, cut out the merry thought, or wish-bone; cut -nice, even slices from the breast, and removed the collar-bone. A -skillful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span> carver will do all this without once turning the fowl over. -Next cut off the side-bone, and cut down the back, dividing the carcass -in two. Separate the drumstick from the second joint, and in helping a -lady, if she prefer the wing, cut it in two parts that she may handle -it more conveniently.</p> - -<p>A ham, or a leg of lamb or mutton, should be first cut in the middle, -clean down to the bone, passing the knife all round. Then cut thin, -even slices from the upper or thicker part, separating each slice from -the bone at the bottom, carefully, without tearing it. Some slices can -also be cut from the lower part of the leg or ham, which are just as -good as the upper part; but after a little you come to the cords or -fibers, and then the remainder of the lower part should be set aside to -cut out all the little bits for a relish at tea, or, in ham, to chop up -as seasoning or with other kinds of meat for hash. By cutting meat in -this way, much may be saved. Good carving is good economy.</p> - -<p>The middle portion of boiled tongue is the best, and should be first -served to guests. The tip is fit only for hashes. It should always be -cut crosswise, never lengthwise.</p> - -<p>When dishing a sirloin, place it on the platter with the tenderloin -underneath, and carve thin slices lengthwise from the side next to you; -then turn the piece over, and carve the tenderloin carefully, cutting -across the piece, serving equally from both parts.</p> - -<p>In carving a fore-quarter of lamb, divide the shoulders from the ribs; -then separate the ribs. The fore-quarter of pork and mutton should -be carved in the same way. When carving the hind-quarter, cut neatly -between the ribs to the joint, which must then be carefully separated, -so as not to bring a jagged, mangled piece to the plate. To do this you -will be obliged to charge your butcher particularly to <i>crack</i> -the joints, not only of the hind, but also of the fore-quarter. He has -the implements to do it more expertly than you can,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span> and unless this -is well done, it is quite impossible to carve the ribs neatly. Serve a -bit of the kidney and the fat to each guest if agreeable. Some do not -relish the kidney, and could eat with more relish if it were not on -their plate, and for this reason it is safest to ask each one before -helping.</p> - -<p>In carving a fillet of veal, begin at the top to cut, serving a portion -of the dressing to each guest. When carving the breast of veal, cut the -upper portion of the brisket, or that part of the breast that lies next -to the ribs, separately, and in helping, inquire what part is preferred.</p> - -<p>Some like to send a young pig whole to the table, with a lemon or bunch -of parsley put into the mouth. We think it much nicer to take off the -head, and cut the pig in halves or quarters, before sending it to the -table, and then carve it. It would be very unpleasant to many to see -such a revolting caricature of a live pig brought before them. But each -one must judge for himself.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LI">LI.<br> -PARENTAL EXAMPLE.</h2> -</div> -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">P</span>ARENTS may give “line upon line and precept upon precept,” in their -assiduous watchfulness over the manners and morals of their children, -yet, if they do not constantly bear in mind that example has more -influence over the young than precept, their efforts will be of little -avail. If you reprove a child for careless usage of books, show them -how they are injured and defaced, by turning down corners, scribbling -on the margin, or throwing them down on the face, how much good will -such lectures do, if, when he enters your library, or comes where -you have been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span> reading, the child sees your books tossed about, the -bindings strained, and the corners in a most undesirable condition?</p> - -<p>You endeavor to inculcate a habit of neatness in your daughter; you -insist that when she returns from a walk or ride she shall smooth out -her bonnet-strings, brush the dust from it, and put it at once in the -bonnet-box; you tell her to fold her shawl neatly, hang up her sack, -pull the fingers of her gloves straight, fold them up and lay them in -their appropriate place; and this you request her to do, not once or -twice, but habitually, not only because it is tidy, but also a great -saving of time and garments in the course of a year. But if you come -in, and toss your street garments about in the most careless manner, -how much good, think you, will all your words of instruction have -accomplished? You may enforce obedience, but compulsory habits are not -usually abiding; and, when old enough to cast off restraint, it will -be, not so much the <i>words you have spoken</i>, as the things your -child has <i>seen you do habitually</i>, which will influence and guide -her womanhood.</p> - -<p>You resolutely object to your children using low phrases,—what -is termed <i>slang</i>; but if your own conversation is largely -interspersed with foolish or needless ejaculations, fight against it as -you may, you will find it impossible to prevent them from copying your -mode of speaking, and it will be very strange if they do not carry it -to a much greater extent than you have done.</p> - -<p>Nowhere is this force of example so strikingly exemplified as at the -table. It is always disagreeable to see a child sitting with its arms -on the table, or resting its elbow there while carrying the food to its -mouth. There is some excuse for the little ones, as their short limbs -grow weary, and the position, though a very awkward one, seems to them -a rest from the restraint of the table; and no doubt it is so. It is -exceedingly annoying to see children filling their mouths<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span> too full, -and then washing the food down by drinking, before the food is half -masticated. If a child reaches over another’s plate for some article of -food, instead of politely asking for it, who can help feeling disturbed -by the rudeness? It is disagreeable to all present to see any one stand -upon the round of the chair, or on the floor, and <i>spring</i> after -a piece of bread or meat, or push a dish across the table instead of -handing it. You shrink from the child who helps itself to butter with -the knife from its own plate. All this is annoying in children, but -it is intolerable when practiced by the parents. They are as much -disgusted as any “lookers-on” can be, when they notice such rude, -ill-mannered actions in their children; but while they severely blame -these young things, they forget that these are always watching and -imitating their parents’ faults.</p> - -<p>We have seen those who were in most respects truly refined, whose great -anxiety seemed to be to guard their children from any contact with -rude associates, and to teach them as much refinement of manner and -character as was possible; and in most things we have observed that -such parents most scrupulously and conscientiously conformed to their -own instructions; but when we have had a seat at their table, we have -sometimes been amazed to observe that they felt themselves exonerated -from the observance of the simplest forms of table etiquette, yet held -their children in strict bondage to such rules, and made the hours -spent at what should be the social, cheerful board very uncomfortable -by continued reproofs.</p> - -<p>“John, take your arms off the table.” The child raises his eyes to -his father, and sees one arm laid on the table before him, the other -supporting his head, with the elbow on the table, while administering -this reproof.</p> - -<p>“James, how often must I tell you to ask for what you want, and not -reach for it across the table?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span></p> - -<p>A few minutes after, James sees his reprover reaching to the full -stretch of his arm, supplemented by the <i>fork from his own plate</i>, -and pick up a potato, piece of bread, or meat, at the farther end of -the table.</p> - -<p>“O child, will you never learn to eat without smacking your lips and -making such a disagreeable noise? It makes one sick to hear you!”</p> - -<p>The child has been watching the parent while eating, and trying hard -to imitate the genuine <i>gourmand’s smack</i> which he hears from the -head of the table.</p> - -<p>“I am astonished! Why do you take the bread from the plate with your -fingers and toss it in that manner to your sister? Never let me see you -guilty of such rudeness again!”</p> - -<p>Now, children are quick to see mistakes and discrepancies in the -conduct of their elders, or those who have the rule over them. It does -not require many years for them to mark how inconsistent such training -is. Naturally children are not very fond of rules and regulations; they -like freedom of action as well as their elders; and if they see that -what is called rude and ill-mannered in a child is the daily practice -of those whom they are expected to look up to, is it strange that -they take every possible opportunity to transgress these precepts, -so strangely nullified by parental example? They are always reaching -forward to something beyond their present condition. If father or -mother does such and such things, which are denied to the young son -or daughter, of course they long for the same privilege; because if -their parents do thus, it must be something smart, the imitation of -which brings them nearer to manhood and womanhood, and farther from -childhood, from which latter period all children are eager to hasten -away. Then, if this is so,—and we think every observing parent has -found it to be true,—is it not important that the rules which are laid -down to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span> secure good morals and good manners in the children should be -considered of sufficient importance to regulate the practice of the -parents; and should not the deviations from them, on the part of the -elders, be few,—or, better yet, none?</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LII">LII.<br> -TRUE TASTE MORE EFFECTIVE THAN MONEY.</h2> - -</div> -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">M</span>ANY imagine they must relinquish all hopes of gratifying their -tastes, or the inherent love of the beautiful, if they do not rank -among the rich. This is an entirely false idea. There are houses upon -which thousands of dollars have been expended, that would be quite -intolerable to people of real refinement as a permanent residence. The -whole arrangement and furniture are so stiff and formal, so heavy and -oppressive with superfluous ornament, that simple curiosity to see what -strange vagaries can enter into the heads of the rich, and in what -absurd manner they study to spend their abundant wealth, would seem to -be the only motive which could tempt a sensible person to enter.</p> - -<p>On the other hand we find small, modest cottages, which bear -unmistakable evidence of the necessity of close economy, which have far -more of real comfort and convenience about them than those splendid -mansions, and at the same time they are <i>gems</i>, bearing in every -part the stamp of true elegance and refinement. They are so beautified -by the genuine taste and ingenuity of the occupants, that it is real -pleasure to pass from one room to another, or sit quietly and enjoy -the sweet enchantment; yet money had little to do toward securing such -attractions. It is the fitness of things,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span> the harmonious blending -of shape and color, the adaptation of the furniture to the wants -of each apartment, that make the whole combination so peculiarly -delightful. And yet, how and from what was all this tasteful furnishing -constructed? If some of those persons, whose dark and gloomy parlors -are hung with the costliest damask, and their furniture carved and -upholstered by the most skillful and fashionable workmen, should, by -chance, find themselves in one of these pleasant homes, they could -not help being captivated by the spirit of the place, in spite of the -absence of style or fashion. The elegant, airy, graceful parlors, the -rest, the peace and comfort which pervade the whole atmosphere, would -be to them a new experience; and what would be their astonishment to -learn with how little expense all this, which they acknowledge to be so -refreshing, has been secured!</p> - -<p>No matter if the purse is not very heavy, young people, with good -health and a fair share of taste and ingenuity, have great pleasure -in store for themselves, when they undertake together to furnish and -beautify a house, which is to be their home. There are so many small -conveniences, so many little contrivances, that a carpenter never -thinks of, because he has never had woman’s work to do, and therefore -cannot see how important these little things are. A woman should know -just where an hour’s work, well considered and planned, can be employed -to manufacture some convenient thing, that will save much time and -strength, and which, however cheaply and roughly made, she can, in a -few spare moments, transform into an object of real beauty.</p> - -<p>“Harper’s Bazaar,” always full of suggestions, often describes the way -of making useful articles beautiful ones. The pictures and explanations -are very easily understood, and each one who attempts to profit by -these suggestions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span> can elaborate or modify as her skill, time, or -means may allow. There is no end to the variety and improvement that -will grow out of each successive trial; and certainly no end to the -pleasure that one can enjoy in seeing such trophies of taste spring -up within and around a new home. A few yards of bright blue, pink, or -green paper muslin, with an overskirt of cheap Nottingham lace, dotted -muslin, or an old lawn dress, can soon transform a rough half-circle -or square piece of board into a pretty washstand or dressing-table. -Old broom-handles make good legs for the stands; and a part of the -length of the handle, not needed, or some smaller stick, answers nicely -for the rounds or braces. The husband can easily bore the holes in -the top, into which the legs may be fastened, and also for the braces -necessary to keep the table firm; an old piece of cloth does nicely -for the under-cover; an old hoop-skirt nailed around the edge of the -top, before the wadding and upper cover are put on, is excellent to -make the outside skirt hang in a proper manner, or the grandmother’s -old-fashioned wire fire-fender, which for years has lain rusting in -your mother’s garret, is admirable for that purpose. Then, with the -bright, delicately colored paper muslin, and the white lace or lawn -overskirt, or cover, you have, with trifling expense, as pretty a -toilet-table or washstand as any one need desire. Underneath the hoops -or fender you may have a convenient repository for work-basket or -boxes, if your house is not well supplied with closets.</p> - -<p>“Sleepy Hollows,” sewing-chairs or easy-chairs made from old hogsheads -or barrels, and pretty lounges from long packing-boxes, are, we think, -among the articles the “Bazar” has sometimes mentioned,—giving -pictures and explanations of the manner in which the roughest and -hardest work may be executed. From these directions, any one with -tolerable skill can gather the first ideas, and then proceed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span> to make -the articles, modifying the shape to suit their own fancy.</p> - -<p>Pretty ottomans or stools covered to match the furniture of the room -are a great convenience, and help to give a genteel, stylish air. If -skillfully made and dressed, who could imagine that they are formed -from well-cleaned and scoured soap-boxes or butter-tubs, with castors -screwed to the bottom, and a cover with hinges on the top, thus serving -a double purpose,—making a pleasant seat, easily rolled to any part -of the room, and a convenient box or trunk for holding work-bundles, -papers, or your boots and slippers.</p> - -<p>We never regret the loss of youth and strength so much, or are so near -being envious, as when we see young people studying how ingeniously -they can arrange a small cottage, and give it the air of beauty and -elegance their natures so much crave. They will not find half the -pleasure in enjoying it, all perfected, as they would have had in -planning and executing; and yet how many throw aside such enjoyment, -and turn this pleasant labor into drudgery, not willingly cultivating -all the talents God has bestowed upon them, but repining because they -cannot afford to employ an upholsterer to furnish what their own skill -might have executed perhaps far more satisfactorily.</p> - -<p>We will follow these suggestions no further, but hope some of our young -housekeepers may be led to improve the hints, in a manner that shall -make them converts to the ideas advanced.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIII">LIII.<br> -COOKING BY STEAM.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">M</span>UCH has been said of the superiority of steamed food over that which -is boiled or baked; and year after year the papers or magazines -devoted to domestic economy and the improvement and simplification of -household labor have advocated this mode of cooking meats, vegetables, -and many other articles of food, every few months recommending some -new invention. We have tried one experiment after another, finding, to -be sure, some imperfection in all; but enough that was practicable to -convince us there was much which was desirable in the idea; and, if -able to do the work with our own hands, confident we could reap great -advantage from it.</p> - -<p>When the mistress of a family has not strength to do her cooking -herself, or that part of it which requires more than ordinary judgment -and skill, she is not situated so that new modes of work can be tried -with much prospect of success. Most servants, particularly the cooks, -when accustomed to one mode of work, are very reluctant to change; and, -therefore, if the mistress is not able to make all experiments herself, -she will soon find, unless fully prepared to have the autocrat of the -kitchen abdicate without “giving notice,” that it is safest, and wisest -often, to allow a tolerably good girl to move on in the “even tenor of -her ways,” without attempting any changes, except those which she can -bring about quietly and imperceptibly. This is no very easy lesson for -an old housekeeper to learn; but repeated defeats must teach her that -patience, as well as discretion, is a “better part of valor.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span></p> - -<p>In the last century, an American, Benjamin Thompson, made Count Rumford -by the Elector of Bavaria for distinguished military and scientific -services, gave much time and thought to the study of heat and -experiments in cooking, being the inventor of the present style of coal -fireplaces and grates, cooking ranges, etc. He was the first person -on record, with any pretensions to learning and philosophy, who ever -studied the dressing of meat for food as a science. The result was the -invention of a boiler for cooking by steam. Within a short time another -boiler has been perfected involving the same principles, but containing -various improvements over the steamer of the last century, which has -been named “Rumford’s Boiler” in compliment to the original inventor. -We have been trying it.</p> - -<p>Our cook was positive she could never use <i>that thing</i>. It was -troublesome, took up too much room on the stove, etc. Bless the girl! -That is one of the excellences of <i>that thing</i>. Little else in the -way of utensils is needed on the top of the stove, beside one of these -boilers. We stipulated that she should use it two weeks, and if found -troublesome, it should share the fate of many other inventions, and no -more be said about it. But long before the two weeks expired it had won -Mary’s heart entirely, and now she would sooner part with anything else -from her kitchen than the “Rumford Boiler.”</p> - -<p>One peculiarity of this most excellent boiler is, that unlike all -others we have ever seen, neither <i>steam</i> nor <i>water</i> comes -in actual contact with the article to be cooked. Two inches of water is -put into the bottom of the boiler. Then a large receiver, into which -meat, fowl, or fish is put to be cooked, is fitted on tight over the -boiling water, and shut off from all possibility of being touched by -steam or water by a close-fitting cover. Above this two other pans, -or boilers, for vegetables, custards, etc., can be fitted with tight -cover also;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span> and the whole boiler, which is about as large but higher -than an ordinary wash-boiler, is also closely covered. Very little fuel -will keep the water boiling hot when once it has reached that point, -as no heat can escape by evaporation. It is not generally understood, -or at least it is not borne in mind with sufficient care, that “after -water is <i>just boiling</i>, all the fuel which is needed to make it -boil <i>violently</i> is just so much wasted, without in the smallest -degree expediting or shortening the process of cooking. It is by the -<i>heat</i>, its <i>intensity</i> and the time of its duration, not by -the <i>boiling</i> or <i>bubbling</i> up of the water, that the food is -cooked.”</p> - -<p>In this “Rumford Boiler” the water can be kept at the boiling point -with no more fuel than need be used to keep two quarts of water at that -temperature. It is the most economical and comfortable arrangement for -summer use, and at the same time equally desirable for the winter. -Meat cooked in it not only retains all its juice, but also nearly all -its original weight, losing about one ounce to a pound; by the regular -process of baking, meats lose over four ounces to a pound.</p> - -<p>The uniform heat of the boiling water cooks whatever is put into the -boiler equally all the way through; no meat, vegetable, or any other -article can be scorched. It would seem impossible for the poorest -cook to spoil a dinner, so long as she does not let the fire go out -or remove the boiler from the stove. Meats require no basting, and in -that respect much time and labor can be saved; and the fire once fairly -burning can be kept low as soon as the water has reached the boiling -point, and no more care of a coal fire is needed till the dinner is -ready.</p> - -<p>Meat, fish, and vegetables may all be cooked at the same time in this -boiler; for being placed in separate receivers with closely fitting -covers, no taste can possibly pass from one kind of food to another. -Meat thus steamed or cooked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span> is much more juicy, tender, and easy of -digestion than when prepared in any other way we know of. No danger -of burning, scorching, or overcooking. If left in much longer than -is needed, it is not injured by it; for, as no water or steam can -reach it, it is only kept hot in its own juices, without the sodden, -disagreeable look and taste of meat that has remained too long in -boiling water or a perforated steamer; and, what is even as great a -recommendation as the excellent flavor of the food, the house is not -filled with smoke and smell of cooking.</p> - -<p>Besides, if properly cooked, there is no waste,—all is eatable and -palatable; even the tip of the wings from birds and poultry, which in -baking are dried up and perfectly worthless, are delicious, for there -is no sweeter meat than wings, when not dried past use. In steaming all -is tender and juicy. When we steam beef, mutton, game, or poultry, we -take them from the steamer, dredge over a little flour, and put into -the oven about fifteen minutes,—not long enough to dry, but simply -brown delicately,—and think it an improvement.</p> - -<p>We have also found, by experiments, that we can do many more things -with this boiler than we were promised, and with the most gratifying -results. We put bread, cake, and pies into it, cover close, and leave -them till done; then set them in the oven long enough to secure the -rich, golden brown; and now there are no more burnt upper or under -crusts, and no more uncooked bottom crust to our pastry.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIV">LIV.<br> -VEGETABLES.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">J</span>UNE is the season when vegetables are most abundant and can be had in -the greatest variety. Among the numberless articles of food there is -nothing so conducive to health as good, fresh, and properly prepared -vegetables, and nothing which so easily deranges the whole system if -used stale, unripe, or badly cooked. Vegetables having so large a share -in our comfort, it is essential that housekeepers should understand how -to prepare every variety not only in the most attractive manner, but -also in the most healthful way that can be devised.</p> - -<p>In the city it is not easy, hardly possible, to procure fresh -vegetables. Those only who have a private team, and can send to -the adjacent market-gardens, can hope to have them; hence our city -housekeepers, who have never had the good fortune to live in the -country during the harvest season of vegetables, can hardly realize -the difference between peas, beans, corn, etc., which can be gathered -early, and eaten almost with the dew upon them, and such as are heaped -into market-wagons and brought from a distance, and exposed for hours -or days, if the sales are not rapid in our markets, to the air and -sun; made to retain the semblance of fresh vegetables by frequent -showers from the hose or watering-pot. Nothing so readily destroys -all the sweetness and the richest flavors of such articles as these -shower-baths; and although the purchaser may fully understand the whole -art of cooking, no skill can bring to our city tables such flavors and -richness as the farmers or the country gentleman should enjoy daily. It -is through carelessness or ignorance if they do not feast<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span> luxuriously -all summer. Of course, almost all kinds of vegetables can be cooked in -a great variety of ways; and as tastes differ widely, and what would -please one may be distasteful to another, by this variety every one may -be suited; yet there are some general rules that must always remain -fixed and immovable; and if not followed, no mode of cooking these -viands will be fully satisfactory. Some few items from the history of -some of our most common roots and vegetables may not be uninteresting, -before giving a review of the mode of preparing and cooking them.</p> - -<p>The <i>Potato</i>, now one of the most useful and nutritious of the -esculent roots, is a native of South America, and first found wild in -Chili and Peru, although it is often called <i>Irish</i> potato, and -supposed by many to have been first found in Ireland. It was brought -to England in 1586, and for a long time was eaten as a <i>fruit</i>, -or made into pies or puddings, and eaten with sauces and wines. It -was so used through the time of Queen Elizabeth. It was planted in -Ireland by Sir Walter Raleigh, on one of his estates in that country. -After being planted and partly grown, the little green balls, which -follow the blossoms, were supposed to be the fruit. Sir Walter had them -cooked, but finding them not at all palatable he concluded the crop was -a failure, and, as might be supposed, was not very strongly tempted by -his first experiment to try it again. But upon turning up the ground, -to use for other purposes, to his great satisfaction he found the -food he had looked for on the stalk hid in the earth, and of a most -desirable character.</p> - -<p>After many experiments it was proved that thrice as large a crop of -potatoes as of any other root could be produced from an acre, and they -soon became the chief food of the Irish peasantry, and remain so to -this day.</p> - -<p>There is no end to the varieties of the potato that are being brought -before the public. New seedlings are announced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span> every year; almost -every section has its own special seedling or favorite, which seems -excellent there, but deteriorates when planted in other parts; and -many kinds which were the best known years ago are now lost sight of -entirely. We have not since childhood been able to find the “rusty -coats” or “lady’s fingers,” but have never seen a potato that equalled -them; partly, no doubt, because one never carries the tastes of -childhood into mature age to perfection, but this is not altogether the -reason; they were, undoubtedly, very excellent potatoes. The “early -rose” is nearer to our idea of the “rusty coats” in flavor, but is not -like it in appearance, nor of so perfect a quality.</p> - -<p>The potato can be satisfactorily used in more ways than any other -edible root,—in bread, pastry, starch, puddings, pies, and salad; -boiled, baked, roasted, stewed, fried. It is said “they furnish flour -without a mill, and bread without an oven.”</p> - -<p>After potatoes are taken from the ground, and have been exposed to -the sun and air long enough to dry, the sooner they are placed in -a cool, dry cellar the better they will keep. Mrs. Haskill, in her -“Housekeeper’s Encyclopædia,” advises that all that are needed for -winter use should be packed in barrels, and a little <i>plaster</i> -scattered over each layer, to absorb the moisture; such as are to be -kept for spring use she thinks should be buried in the ground, and a -little plaster be sprinkled over them; also, Mrs. Haskill claims that -this is a preventive against <i>rot</i>, but does not consider it sure. -Whether this is good doctrine, we leave for our scientific farmers.</p> - -<p>The <i>Sweet Potato</i> is a tuberous root, very different from our -common potato. It is common in tropical climates, where it is much -more perfect than in our colder States. There are seldom but two -kinds brought to our markets, the red or purple rooted, and the white -or yellow rooted. Far<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span> South, the red grows to a large size, and is -sweeter and more nutritious than those raised at the North. The white -or yellow rooted grows more perfectly with us than the red. In New -Jersey they are largely raised, and of a good quality. Thirty years -ago, sweet potatoes were a luxury on any Northern table: now they -are in daily use when in season; but to find them in the greatest -perfection we must still go South for them. The young leaves and tender -shoots are sometimes boiled as <i>greens</i>, and are pronounced quite -wholesome.</p> - -<p>In California, sweet potatoes grow to an immense size, often weighing -four or five pounds, and sometimes eight or ten.</p> - -<p>The <i>Jerusalem Artichoke</i> grows in clusters of tubers, something -like the potato. It is a native of Brazil. It was brought to England -and was much in use there before it was superseded by the common -potato. It was called the Canada potato, to distinguish it from the -common kind, then known as the Virginia potato. It is wholesome -and nutritious, but not dry and mealy. The plants are extremely -productive and once started it is difficult to eradicate them from -the soil; they are said to be an excellent food for horses and hogs. -<i>Girasole</i>, not <i>Jerusalem</i>, should be the term. That is the -Italian name for <i>sunflower</i>, which this artichoke resembles in -many particulars, and to which it is in some degree akin, but not at -all to the <i>artichoke</i> proper, which is a plant brought from the -Mediterranean. The flower-head before blossoming is the part eaten, -boiled plain and eaten with melted butter and pepper, like spinach and -other greens. The bottoms are also sometimes boiled in milk and eaten, -and sometimes pickled. The French fry them and use them in various -ways, sometimes raw as salads.</p> - -<p>The <i>Yam</i> also resembles the common potato. It is extensively<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span> -grown in the East and West Indies, and in Africa and America. It is -sweeter and firmer than the potato, grows flat, about a foot long, and -sometimes divided like fingers. One variety, called the hinged yam, -often grows three feet long and weighs twenty or thirty pounds. When -raw, like the potato, the juice is acrid and not healthful, but boiling -destroys all harmful properties. A favorite dish is prepared from it in -the tropics, combined with grated cocoa-nut and the pulp of the banana.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LV">LV.<br> -CABBAGE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N this chapter we have something to say of an old familiar friend, -the <i>Cabbage</i>, which for ages has been one of the most useful -of all our vegetables, being very productive, and, for many persons, -nutritious and healthful. It is found growing wild on the cliffs in -many parts of the southern coasts of England; but these do not very -closely resemble the large, vigorous vegetable we see on our farms -and in our gardens. There it is dwarfed, not weighing more than an -ounce, with a few feeble leaves. Even in this state it is sometimes -gathered and eaten for greens, but is not very tempting. Although thus -found wild on the southern British coast, the numerous kinds now under -careful cultivation, in almost all our large farms or market-gardens, -are the results of many experiments made by scientific and enterprising -agriculturists. It was also largely cultivated and improved in other -countries long before its use was understood in England. It was a -common product among the Romans, and although they were lawless -and ambitious in their inroads upon the surrounding nations, their -conquests,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span> with all the attending evils, were conducive of many good -results; for wherever their armies went, they left behind new arts -and habits, tending toward a larger civilization than is commonly the -result of wars. Many fruits, roots, and vegetables, unknown in Spain, -Germany, and England, were brought by the conquering Romans into -general use among these nations.</p> - -<p>The Saxons used cabbage under the name of kale, and it is still so -called in Scotland. For a long time it was the only vegetable known -in that country, but there is no end to the kinds now in use, and the -varieties are multiplied yearly by the experiments and skill of the -producers. With some persons it is not easy of digestion when cooked, -but when cut up raw and used as a salad there is hardly anything more -wholesome or palatable than the cabbage. Some chemists assert that it -contains an oil which is injurious, unless, when cooking, the cabbage -is boiled in two waters. However that may be, we know that this -vegetable is far more delicate and tempting, if, after boiling about -half an hour, the water is poured off, and clear boiling water added, -in which the cabbage is cooked till done. With that precaution, aside -from being nicer, it is not half as liable to produce disagreeable -effects.</p> - -<p>The <i>Borecole</i>, or <i>kale</i> proper, as now understood, differs -from the common cabbage in having long, curly, wrinkled leaves, more -like the original wild plant, only larger and of thicker growth, never -forming into a close, solid head. They are very hardy, and furnish most -excellent winter greens; and if the leaves and stalks are blanched, are -greatly improved and very delicate. These <i>kales</i> are improved -by frost. The Scotch or German <i>kale</i>, or <i>cualis</i> (curly -greens), is used in immense quantities in Britain. The buda and the -Russian kale are much less common. The buda is considered a great -delicacy when blanched; the sprouts, and not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span> the heart, being the -most desirable. We have never seen it in our markets, but should think -it might be brought to great perfection in our country, and be a very -desirable addition to our numerous sorts of cabbage. The Coleya oil, so -much in use in France for lamps, is made from the seeds of one kind of -<i>kale</i>, and we think we have been told it is from the buda.</p> - -<p>The Portuguese cabbage, from Tranzuda, is extensively cultivated -abroad, and we see not why that also cannot be introduced here. It is -said to be peculiarly tender and delicate, and destitute of the coarse -rank taste of our common kinds. The heart is the preferable part; the -mid-rib or stalk being used after the green parts are cut off only as -greens. We wonder that some enterprising Yankee has not brought it into -our markets.</p> - -<p>The <i>Palm kale</i> and the <i>Cow-cabbage</i> are cultivated in -Jersey, and other of the Anglo-Norman isles, as food for cattle. The -leaves of both grow to a great height, from twelve to fifteen feet. It -is the outer leaf that is fed to the cattle; the heart of the bud is -quite tender, and when cooked is good and nutritious.</p> - -<p>The close-headed cabbage has many varieties,—the <i>white</i> and the -<i>red drum-head</i>, <i>sugar-loaf</i>, <i>Savoy</i>, etc. These are -raised from the seed, and should be sowed the year before they are -wanted, for large heads. While young, or the first year, if cooked -at all it is as greens, or cabbage <i>coleworts</i>. Such as are not -kept for growth the second year are pulled up, root and all, and thus -sent to market to keep them from withering. The roots are cut off by -the cook just before using. Some, when the head is half formed, are -gathered for summer cabbage; but if left till fall the head becomes -hard and firm, and late in the season they are pulled up and stored, -or buried in the ground. Such as are needed for summer sprouts or -coleworts are left in the ground all winter,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span> and are ready early, with -the nice new shoots for the spring market.</p> - -<p>The red cabbage makes a fine pickle, and is the kind most used by the -Germans for <i>sauerkraut</i>, though almost any variety will answer. -The dwarf red is much used abroad for stewing.</p> - -<p>The <i>Savoys</i> have leaves much more curly than the other varieties, -and the middle part of their firm heads is excellent for boiling, and -particularly fine for <i>cole</i>, or cold slaw, or <i>kohl slaw</i>, -as the Germans term it. The dwarf and the yellow Savoy will stand the -frost. The Brussels sprouts are something like the Savoy, but grow -often three or four feet high. The sprouts form in little, delicate -heads all the way up. The top of the stalk is more solid, and it is -that which is like the Savoy.</p> - -<p>The <i>Cauliflower</i> and <i>Broccoli</i> are among the most desirable -of the cabbage tribe, and bring a higher price than any. The former is -probably a native of the island of Cyprus, and the broccoli is said -to have been introduced into Holland and England from Italy, in the -seventeenth century. They are quite similar in habit and taste, but the -broccoli will bear the frost and cold better than the cauliflower. Both -are very great favorites and very delicate.</p> - -<p>The leaves of all kinds of cabbage decay very early, and are then -exceedingly offensive. They should never be allowed to remain in the -cellar or lie about the house, as they are very injurious to the -health. The water in which cabbage is boiled is also offensive and -unhealthy, and should be poured into drains where it will the soonest -pass off.</p> - -<p>Our farmers often feed the outside leaves of cabbage to their cattle. -All very well if they do not give them to their <i>milch cows</i>. -Many of our dairymen will not believe that cabbage or turnips injure -the flavor of milk or butter, but we think their taste must be greatly -perverted if they fail to detect the flavor at once.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LVI">LVI.<br> -PULSE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">M</span>ANY of the most useful and important of farinaceous or mealy kinds -of vegetables are known under the name of <i>pulse</i>. All the large -varieties of the <i>bean</i>, <i>pea</i>, <i>lentil</i>, <i>tare</i>, -and <i>vetch</i> belong to this family.</p> - -<p>The <i>Vetch</i> and <i>Tare</i> are chiefly used for cattle; very -seldom in this country or England are they seen on our tables, even -among the poorest class of people; but the <i>lentil</i>, a kind of -bean, is greatly esteemed among the French and Germans, and, when -properly and carefully prepared and seasoned, is more highly esteemed -by them than the common pea and bean. They consider the flavor better, -and the vegetable itself more nourishing. In France it is extensively -used for seasoning soups, but in England and America is not much known -except as food for cattle.</p> - -<p>Next to nuts and fruits, all kinds of pulse were important articles of -food in the earlier ages, for it required little labor and skill to -produce or raise them. When fresh and tender, many kinds of pulse can -be employed in cooking, particularly for soups, and many that we know -nothing of except through books, would flourish in our climate, both -North and South, and might be profitably cultivated. Year by year we -find something new in our agricultural catalogues, as well as in the -horticultural and floral.</p> - -<p><i>Peas</i> and <i>Beans</i> when dried are less digestible and -healthful than when eaten green, as the skin becomes hard, and unless -removed, as it can be by rubbing through a sieve for soups, will, -with many people, produce flatulency, constipation, and often severe -colic. But green or dried, almost<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span> every sort of pulse will furnish -excellent food for most of our domestic animals, and is also considered -very desirable to alternate with other crops, for, if corn or grain is -raised year after year, on the same piece of land, it will in a short -time wear out the soil; but pulse does not impoverish the land, and -therefore may be grown on fields that require rest from more exhausting -crops.</p> - -<p>We learn that the time of the discovery of peas and beans has not been -satisfactorily ascertained, but they were in early times extensively -cultivated, especially the <i>pea</i>, in India, China and Japan, -although evidently not a native of any of the extreme warm climates. -When the English were besieging a castle in Lathian, in 1299, they were -well pleased to supply their exhausted stores with this kind of pulse, -which grew in that vicinity abundantly, and doubtless, on learning its -nutritious properties, gladly introduced it into their own country. -During Queen Elizabeth’s reign, her table was supplied with peas from -Holland; fit food, says one of the writers of that time, for royal -ladies, because “it was brought so far and cost so dear.”</p> - -<p>Now, under careful and more enlightened culture, the varieties of peas -raised in this country and throughout Europe are numerous. To speak -of them all and of the whole family of pulse would require a volume. -But much depends on the section in which the different varieties are -raised, for, as with most kinds of produce, that which in one locality -would prove most excellent, when transferred to another will become -quite inferior.</p> - -<p>The <i>Chick-pea</i> is small and not very digestible. It will not -boil soft, but, like some of the lentils, is parched, and in Egypt and -Syria sold in the shops to travellers, by whom it is greatly esteemed, -because while passing through the deserts it occupies little room and -needs no preparation. Youmans says that it will sustain more life, -weight for weight,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span> than any other kind of food, and that peas and -beans are ranked first among the concentrated, strength-imparting food; -but although strength-giving, we do not think it easily digested, -unless eaten while fresh and tender, and cooked with care. Some kinds -of peas are prepared by the Chinese as a <i>vegetable cheese</i>.</p> - -<p>It would be useless to attempt to mention the best varieties of either -peas or beans. Some seek for the earliest, some the largest or most -prolific. In selecting, it is always wise to go to some intelligent -seedsman, keeping a large assortment of all kinds of seeds, and learn -his opinion; then, from the information thus obtained, decide which -variety will best meet your wishes and locality. Some kinds of peas, -like the string bean, have the pod and seed cut up and cooked together.</p> - -<p>The <i>Turnip</i> was introduced into England from Hanover. It now -grows wild in many parts of England, but the wild kind cannot, by -cultivating, be brought up to the excellency of our garden and farm -turnip. The turnip tops are brought into market for <i>greens</i>. The -medium-sized roots are better than the largest, which are liable to -become corky or spongy.</p> - -<p>The <i>Carrot</i> was brought to England by Flemish refugees, during -the reign of Elizabeth, and the leaves were in great demand by her -court ladies as ornaments for the hair. The ladies of the present day -are not satisfied to use it for that purpose, but by putting a root -into a glass of water, and hanging in a window, in a few weeks they -have a pretty, graceful window ornament, as young leaves will start -out and form a green ball, very delightful to the eye in mid-winter. -Both turnips and carrots are largely used on the table, and are very -desirable to season soups or stews, or garnish fancy dishes. The carrot -makes a very good pie, and with a judicious use of eggs and cream can -be made quite palatable.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span> When boiled and prepared for the table, the -young and tender roots should be selected, as when large or old they -become woody and fibrous. The carrot is excellent food for horses and -cows. Unlike the turnip, it imparts no unpleasant taste to the milk, -and is, therefore, very desirable for winter feed. The carrot contains -a much larger proportion of sugar than most of the esculent roots; a -large quantity of spirits can be distilled from it, and it is sometimes -used instead of malt for beer.</p> - -<p>The <i>Parsnip</i> is also a native of Britain, and largely used, not -only for soups and garnishing dishes, but as a vegetable; or, dipped in -a batter of butter, flour, and white of eggs, it is fried a delicate -brown, and sent to the table as a side-dish. During Lent, it is much -eaten with fish. It is even sweeter than the carrot,—much too sweet -to please all tastes. Like the carrot, it is excellent in soups, and -is sometimes made into bread. A kind of wine, said to resemble the -Malmsley wine of Madeira, can be made from the parsnip. In Ireland, -they brew it with hops, and make what they consider an agreeable drink. -Parsnips and potatoes, in Scotland, are often beaten up with butter, -and a nice dish for children prepared from them.</p> - -<p>The varieties of the <i>Onion</i> tribe are more widely spread over -the whole world than any other article of food. The <i>onion</i>, -<i>leek</i>, <i>chive</i>, <i>garlic</i>, and <i>shallot</i> are the -kinds in most universal use. In Egypt and many parts of Africa, it is -noted for its very delicate taste, being less pungent and the odor -less offensive than those raised with us. Two thousand years before -Christ, it had, in the estimation of the Egyptians, some mysterious -signification, and was worshipped by them as possessing wonderful -efficacy. The onion is much pleasanter for food or seasoning in warm -climates than with us. Those raised in Spain, Portugal, and Strasburg -are famous for their great delicacy. They are everywhere used,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span> cooked, -raw, or made into salads. When eaten raw the odor imparted to the -breath is exceedingly disagreeable, and, even cooked or prepared in -salads, is not at all pleasant. It is said that chewing a little raw -parsley will remove this annoyance, or a few kernels of roasted coffee, -but we have never known anything but time and abstinence that did -remedy the evil. It is to be regretted that it should be so, for they -would otherwise be great favorites with all, and are, no doubt, very -wholesome.</p> - -<p>The <i>Leek</i> is more used in Switzerland and Scotland,—indeed, in -all cold, mountainous regions, both on account of its being hardy, -and because its exceeding pungency is a recommendation in these cold -regions. It is a very important ingredient in two Scotch dishes that -were the noted favorites of King James I., the “Cock-a-leekie” and -“Haggis.” They claim in Wales and Scotland that the leek was brought to -them by St. David. The blanched stem is the best for soups and stews, -and is more esteemed in France than with us.</p> - -<p>The <i>Chive</i> is a native of Britain and France. It is sometimes -found wild in the pastures, and, if eaten by cows, imparts a very -offensive taste to the milk. It is milder than the onion or leek. The -leaves are the part used for broths and soups, and in some kinds of -omelets, especially in France, it is thought to be indispensable. With -us, it is more frequently found in the dishes at restaurants and hotels -than at our private tables.</p> - -<p>The <i>Garlic</i> is the most offensive of the onion tribe. It grows -naturally in Sicily and the South of France, and from there found its -way into Britain and America. It is very little used with us, but is -found at almost all tables in Italy, though the root is only boiled to -season soups and other dishes, and removed as soon as it has imparted a -sufficiently strong flavor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span></p> - -<p>The <i>Shallot</i> grows wild in Palestine, and was introduced into -England by the Crusaders. It is still more pungent in taste than the -garlic, but not as offensive. Used in pickles, soups, and made dishes.</p> - -<p>The <i>Rosambole</i> is a native of Denmark. It partakes of the -character of both the garlic and the shallot, and is used in a similar -manner.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LVII">LVII.<br> -POT-HERBS AND SALADS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE number of plants and vegetables that are of excellent quality, and -can be profitably cultivated for purposes of pot-herbs and salads, are -so numerous that we can only mention the names, with here and there an -item, that we may rouse the young housekeeper’s curiosity sufficiently -to tempt her to search for their full history herself and we hope lead -others to do the same.</p> - -<p>In Burr’s “Field and Garden Vegetables of America,” is a “full -description of nearly eleven hundred species and varieties, with -directions for propagation, culture, and use.” Among them are many -species and varieties which make excellent salads and greens.</p> - -<p>The <i>Leaf-beet</i> is much esteemed. The leaf is used for greens. -The rib, which is called Swiss <i>chard</i>, is cut out, boiled, and -dressed like asparagus, which it resembles in taste. There are five -varieties, of which the silver-leaf is the best.</p> - -<p>Three varieties of the <i>Nightshade</i>—the white from East India, -the large-leafed China malabar, and the red malabar from China—furnish -a desirable addition to our pot-herbs. The juice from the fruit of the -red variety supplies a beautiful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span> color, but is not permanent. The -black, or deadly nightshade, is poisonous.</p> - -<p>The <i>Nettle</i>, of which only one kind is mentioned, will grow -anywhere spontaneously, but is, in many places, largely cultivated, and -is excellent for greens. The young, tender buds or shoots are nipped -off as they appear, and will shoot out again very rapidly. By being -put into a green or forcing-house, it furnishes a good substitute for -cabbage, colewort, or winter spinach. If placed near a flue in the -hot-house in winter, it will supply excellent nettle-kale all through -the winter. Lawson says: “The merits of this generally accounted -troublesome plant have been quite overlooked. Aside from the food it -can supply, the stalk is quite fibrous, and may be made into ropes and -cordage and good thread; besides a white, beautiful linen-like cloth -can be manufactured from it, but it has never been cultivated for that -purpose. It is an Asiatic plant.”</p> - -<p><i>Spinach</i> is one of the most important of this class of edibles. -It grows wild in England. Flanders supplies us with some of the -cultivated kinds. The <i>orache</i>, or mountain spinach, is quite -hardy and very good. It is a native of Tartary, and was brought into -England by Sir John Banks.</p> - -<p>The <i>Quinoa</i>, a native of Mexico, is easily cultivated here. The -leaves are used like spinach. The seeds in some places are made to -take the place of corn or wheat for bread, and are excellent food for -poultry.</p> - -<p>The English and Irish <i>Sea-beet</i> are much liked in some places, -and are easily cultivated.</p> - -<p>The <i>Shepherd’s-purse</i> tastes somewhat like cabbage, but is much -more delicate. That which is raised and marketed in Philadelphia is -wonderfully juicy, and the leaf grows quite large.</p> - -<p>Of the salad plants, <i>Celery</i> stands among the first. It is a -native of England, and has many varieties, too numerous to mention -here.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span></p> - -<p><i>Lettuce</i> is an Asiatic plant, and, like celery, is an important -and almost indispensable article in preparing chicken, lobster, or -other mixed salads. It is also eaten plain with simply salt or dressed -with vinegar, sugar, and oil; or, what is better still, a few drops of -vinegar, with sugar and rich cream.</p> - -<p>The <i>Endive</i>, a native of China and Japan, is largely cultivated -in America, and by many considered one of the best autumn, winter, and -early spring salads.</p> - -<p><i>Corn-salad</i>, brought from the South of France and Europe, is -sometimes boiled or cooked like spinach; but usually the young leaves -are dressed for salad, and in winter and early spring are excellent.</p> - -<p><i>Cress</i>, or pepper-grass, belongs to Persia, but is largely raised -here; eaten as a salad, either separately or mixed with lettuce or -celery. The varieties are quite numerous.</p> - -<p><i>Horse-radish</i> and <i>Mustard</i> are from Europe. The young tips -are sometimes mixed with other greens, and their natural pungency adds -quite a pleasant flavor to less highly spiced pot-herbs.</p> - -<p>The <i>Nasturtium</i> is from Peru. The seeds make a pickle almost -equal to the caper, and the young shoots furnish a fine, pungent salad; -and in all its many varieties it is a pretty garden ornament.</p> - -<p>The <i>Purslain</i>, <i>Rape</i>, and <i>Rocket</i> are natives of -Europe.</p> - -<p>The <i>Samphire</i> is used as a seasoning for salads. <i>Tarragon</i>, -from Siberia, is also put in salads for seasoning, and much used -steeped in vinegar for dressings of various kinds.</p> - -<p><i>Valeriana</i>, as a salad, is by some thought more desirable than -corn-salad, and is likewise a very beautiful garden ornament.</p> - -<p>All these and many more can be grown in our own country, and most of -them with very little trouble. Interesting statements respecting them -can be found in most of the agricultural books, which are well worth -reading.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LVIII">LVIII.<br> -MISTAKES IN COOKING VEGETABLES.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">F</span>RESH vegetables, properly prepared, are among the most important -articles of food. They mostly abound in saline substances that are -indispensable to the maintenance of a healthy condition of the whole -system; but to secure the blessings they were designed to yield, -everything depends on their being freshly gathered and carefully cooked.</p> - -<p>It is very difficult to obtain freshly gathered vegetables when one -is obliged to depend on the city markets for them. In this, as in -many other things, our farmers, and those who can afford even a small -vegetable garden, have far more to be thankful for than those whose -home is in the city, and whose tastes and desires extend no farther; -for although to those who heartily relish the summer productions, stale -vegetables may be better than none, yet the use of them is always an -unsafe experiment, making easy victims for the many diseases incident -to the summer; whereas we imagine a reasonable prodigality in eating -most of the summer vegetables and fruits, when they can be had every -day fresh from the garden, is peculiarly conducive to the enjoyment of -sound health.</p> - -<p>Then, as regards the cooking of the many kinds of vegetables that are -desirable only when fresh, it must be remembered that many sorts have -a large proportion of woody tissues, which require a suitable degree -of heat by which they can be softened or decomposed before they may be -eaten with impunity. That done, and the acid which is found in almost -all esculent vegetables becomes an essential<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span> assistance to sound -digestion, as it tends to strengthen and give tone to the stomach.</p> - -<p><i>Hard water</i> is often recommended for cooking many kinds of -vegetables, but we know of none that are improved, and many that are -injured by it. Beans and peas, for instance, are injured by boiling in -hard water, whereas if soft water is used the skin softens, loses its -huskiness, and these delicate vegetables become highly nutritious.</p> - -<p>A little soda is used by many cooks in preparing vegetables; but it is -only when one is so unfortunate as to be unable to procure soft water -to cook with that we think it can be tolerated. To be sure, it secures -a fine green with some articles, such as peas and beans, and makes them -very tender, but this is gained at the expense of all sweetness and -natural flavor.</p> - -<p>A few rules for gathering and preparing vegetables in the country may -be given, which, if carefully observed, will secure their being brought -to the table in an excellent condition, and eaten without one murmur of -dissatisfaction.</p> - -<p>First, be sure that they were raised from the best of seed. It is -useless to expect good vegetables unless they spring from the most -perfect and best variety of seed. “Do men gather grapes of thorns or -figs of thistles?” Those who cultivate but a few acres simply for -family use, having learned the importance of choosing their seed with -care, are every year becoming more and more particular in their search -for the finest varieties. More depends on this than farmers have been -accustomed to think; but seeing what can be done by amateur gardeners -through care, and reading the success of other experiments, they are -giving much more attention to this than was customary in former years. -The result is, that there is no longer any excuse for having a poor -article brought either from your own garden or the market. It is the -length of time it has been gathered, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span> the manner in which it has -been prepared, that determines its excellence.</p> - -<p>All vegetables are injured by lying exposed to sun and rain; but corn, -peas, fresh beans, asparagus, and lettuce become perfectly worthless. -They should be gathered while the dew is yet on them, brought to the -house, and placed at once in a cool place where the sun will not strike -upon them. It is better to leave corn in the husk, peas and beans in -the pods, until it is time to prepare them for cooking. Then watch -that they are not left long in water, if, indeed, you cannot avoid -washing them entirely. Corn when taken from the husk needs no washing; -simply remove all the silk. If there is a black or rusty spot on an -ear of corn, reject it entirely; it shows the beginning of disease. It -improves a mess of peas, adding greatly to their sweetness, to boil the -<i>pods</i>, after shelling, about fifteen minutes in the water you -are about to boil the peas in. For this purpose, you must pour cold -water over the pods, to remove any dust or minute bugs that may be -upon them; wash quickly, and then leave them to drain before shelling. -The peas, of course, after this need no washing, neither do beans. -Asparagus should be washed quickly, to remove all dust; but must on no -account be left in the water a moment after it is clean. As soon as -washed, put in a cullender to drain, and then over the stove to cook -as soon as you can. All vegetables should be laid in the saucepan in -which they are to be cooked, with sufficient salt to season sprinkled -over them; then <i>boiling</i> water poured on, and the whole brought -to a boil immediately, else they become of a brownish color and look -very uninviting. The salt, either put on them first or the water -salted before they are put in, prevents the color changing. Then boil, -or, what is better, <i>steam</i> them for the proper time,—twenty -minutes for asparagus, peas, and corn is long enough, never over thirty -minutes; when so old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span> as to need longer cooking, they are too old to -use at all. Beans require longer time, unless very young; from three -quarters of an hour to an hour will be necessary.</p> - -<p>Very few vegetables, comparatively, are as digestible raw as when -cooked; those used for salads, such as celery, lettuce, cabbage, -etc., are exceptions. Some which when raw are quite poisonous can, by -skillful boiling, be transformed into our most nutritious and easily -digested food; yet the attempt to cook them is too often made in -such a careless and reckless way that, although whatever poison they -contain when raw is dispelled, the mode of cooking makes them about as -injurious to the health as the poison could have been,—half raw or -overcooked till they are clammy or sodden, or cooked with salt and fat -meat until their whole nature seems changed,—requiring a stomach like -that of an ostrich to digest them.</p> - -<p>The <i>potato</i>, when raw, is not only unpalatable and injurious, but -is supposed to be really poisonous, while proper cooking changes it to -one of the most palatable and healthful of all vegetables.</p> - -<p>The <i>bitter cassava</i> is so deadly when raw that the Indians use -the juice to poison their arrows; but when grated and pressed, to -remove the juice, it is subjected to a heat which destroys all that -is unsafe, and then we have the tapioca, so much prized for table -use, and which is regarded by many physicians as far more digestible -for infants than arrowroot; but the <i>sweet cassava</i>, from which -bread is made, is, even when raw, free from all harmful qualities. The -<i>wake-robin</i>, from which sago is made, is so poisonous that the -juice will blister the hand; but like the cassava, when roasted or -boiled, is entirely free from all injurious qualities, and is, after -being thus cooked, made into sago.</p> - -<p>In many of our “cook-books” <i>mint</i> is recommended for seasoning -various kinds of vegetables, but we do not believe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span> a good vegetable -can be improved by anything that destroys the true natural taste. Peas -may be much improved, we think, by boiling the pods, after washing them -in clear soft water, about fifteen minutes; then strain the water from -the pods, bring it to a boil, add some salt to keep the peas green, and -use as much as is needed to boil the peas themselves in. It gives them -all the sweetness that the pod contains, which is sufficiently near the -flavor of the pea not to impart any unnatural taste. A little cream -may be added with the butter, pepper, and salt required to dress them, -although we think the little water that is needed to cook them (and -it should be <i>very little</i>) is far better. When we see a little -<i>mint</i> advised to “give a fine flavor,” we have no objection to -others enjoying it, but confess we think it a perverted taste.</p> - -<p>Peas, beans, asparagus, corn, and potatoes should be either steamed -or cooked in as little water as can be used without burning them; and -to dress the first three, some of the water in which they are boiled -should be used; then, in helping them out, if any prefer them dry, it -is very easy to take them from the dish free from liquor.</p> - -<p>Another great mistake consists in allowing most kinds of vegetables -to cook too long. Some require much longer time to cook than others, -but all need careful watching. Beets, turnips, carrots, parsnips, -etc., need considerable cooking; but if you go beyond a certain point -they become watery or sodden, and lose half their excellence or are -completely ruined. Peas, corn, and potatoes should require but little -time to be cooked sufficiently. When young, peas and corn do not -require over fifteen or twenty minutes; as they become larger or attain -their full growth, thirty minutes may be needed; if more than that, -they are no longer fit to use, except for soups or meal.</p> - -<p>Peas, beans, asparagus, and lettuce are often injured by being washed -too much, or by being left soaking in water.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span> Wash as little and as -quickly as possible; drain, then cover up the dish, and put them in a -cool place out of the sun till ready to cook. Lettuce, particularly, -will be far more crisp and tender if, after washing and picking it over -carefully, it is laid on ice till needed.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIX">LIX.<br> -DIVIDED FAMILY GOVERNMENT.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“I</span> HAVE a family of young children, naturally amiable and obedient, -who, while very young, seldom needed even slight punishment; but as -they grow older wants and wills are thickening, and, occasionally, -natural perversity and willfulness are manifested which sometimes -require restraint. The mother’s heart would shield her children from -such denials or demands as the father sees is necessary to their proper -education and future happiness. Her tenderness warps her judgment, and -too frequently her speech and action stand opposed to mine. Hence the -question must often arise, if she cannot control her words and feelings -in the presence of the children and servants, how far am I bound, in -view of the future well-being of our offspring, to push my authority, -and, as the father and head of the house, insist upon her yielding to -my judgment without such opposition; and if I am compelled peremptorily -to insist upon her silence, when I am attempting to control our -children, what is her duty?”</p> - -<p>These questions, which have been addressed to us, are full of interest; -and the answer, if given simply from the first impressions derived -from the perusal of the letter, without mature deliberation, would -seem comparatively easy. But a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span> few moments’ careful reflection will -suffice to show that, looked at in all the various aspects necessary -to form a thoroughly correct judgment, it is a very intricate and -important subject, for which no one general rule can be made to meet -the necessities of all. The happiness of the family, as a whole, and -the future welfare of the children, require a united government; -but, unfortunately, we do not see it to any wide extent. Children, -who should be a bond of union, are too often the cause of dissension -and division. If the father is stern, arbitrary, and unreasonable in -dealing with the little ones, a judicious mother, who has suffered -for them and watched over them by day and by night from their birth, -naturally shrinks from the effects which severity or irritability must -have on their young and tender minds, knowing, in almost every case, -that gentleness and love will soften the heart and secure obedience, -while coldness and harshness will harden, and provoke rebellion.</p> - -<p>Or, perhaps, on the other hand, the father is loving and tender, yet -firm; fully aware that foolish and injudicious indulgence, although for -the present gratifying, will in the end work out, not the peaceable -fruits of righteousness, but, for the children, years of sin and -sorrow; for the parents, wretchedness, tribulation, and anguish. With -a father whose constant thought is to seek the best interest of his -children, even though it can be obtained only at the expense of some -self-denial, if the mother co-operates, the training of their family -will be a labor full of love and gladness. When both parents see eye to -eye, and seek God’s blessing on every step, they may rest assured that -their children, thus led in the way they should go, will, in mature -age, rise up and call them blessed.</p> - -<p>It is very strange that parents, with so many examples which should -on the one hand warn them against over-indulgence,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span> and on the other -encourage them in the administration of all needed discipline, should -not learn to avoid disputes or discussion in the presence of their -families. When they so far forget their children’s best interests as -to wrangle and dispute whenever a case of discipline is necessary, -and allow children and servants to hear and see the whole, they not -only lose the respect of those who should naturally look to them for -guidance and help, but, more than all, they do lasting injury to those -whom they should protect and love. One or two specimens of divided -counsels and the mischief is done. Children are quick to observe; they -turn to the parent who they learn will be most ready to hide their -faults or overlook their short-comings for help to escape punishment, -or to secure the gratification of every childish whim; but they soon -learn to care little for either parent, for the selfish love of a child -who has lost respect and reverence for father or mother is of little -value. If the father commands and the mother, openly or privately, -cancels the injunction, or the mother permits an indulgence and the -father revokes the permission, the child will soon become angry and -stubborn; and even if not daring to utter reproach and insolence -openly, the spirit of bitterness and revolt is aroused. If parents were -seeking to destroy their children, they could scarcely find any means -so well calculated to accomplish the object. But the mischief does not -end here; the parents themselves become embittered by such dissensions. -Sometimes it leads to disputes and quarrels, and sometimes to -partisanship; and thus the child’s selfishness, jealousy, and mercenary -nature are cultivated. In such divided households better far are early -deaths than life and health for children that must otherwise grow up -under such malign influences.</p> - -<p>If parents cannot see alike, in matters of family government,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span> then -they should agree between themselves on some compromise; but in the -presence of their children, these differences ought never to be -mentioned. Even if one parent is mistaken, it is better far to pass the -mistake by, unnoticed, than that a dispute should arise, or that the -other parent should interfere in the presence of servants or children. -In almost all such cases there is blame on both sides; but, right or -wrong, it is better that one should yield instantly and let the other -decide, for the time being, than to attempt to right the wrong in the -presence of any one, particularly in that of children. It is not hard -to do this; and, O parents! if you truly love each other, it should be -very sweet and easy kindly and unselfishly to discuss the matter under -consideration; but let the husband dismiss during the discussion all -idea of <i>authority</i>. It is an ugly word between husband and wife -at all times; and in the endeavor to settle a disputed point, if you -seek for any good results, keep it as far out of sight as possible. Go -to your wife in the same spirit that influenced you while wooing her, -and speak with the same tenderness; we think words thus spoken will be -like oil on the troubled waters, and bring you into closer and more -harmonious union than any <i>commands</i> can do.</p> - -<p>But while settling any disputed point with regard to the management of -children, it should be constantly remembered by the father that, of -necessity, the mother must have more to do with their early years, and -can hardly fail to understand their peculiarities better than he can -do. It is only a few moments at a time that the father can spend with -them, while the mother must watch over them hourly, providing for all -their constantly recurring wants. To her belongs, naturally, the care -of their health and early habits; to her the watching and weariness in -times of sickness, and the harassing toil of nursing them through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span> the -fretful period of convalescence, back to soundness and vigor.</p> - -<p>In the few hours the father’s business allows him to spend with his -family, he may be able to see the weak points more clearly than the -mother can do, who must be always with them. He may see plainly how, at -times, she weakly yields to their caprices, allowing herself to become -a slave to them, often because too weary to be firm. This is the time -when his love, tenderness, and sympathy for his wife, the mother of -his children, should be most earnestly manifested; when he can prove -which is the stronger, which better fitted to be the true head of the -house. These weaknesses, from whatever cause they spring, should not be -noticed before the little despots; when alone, the husband, with the -greatest kindness and gentleness, can show his wife how such indulgence -will lay the foundation for much present trouble, and perhaps for -a corrupt and disgraceful future. If she has good sense, and he, -with unselfish desire for the good of all, does not seek by arrogant -dictation to set himself above her, we can hardly imagine a wife and -mother who would not earnestly endeavor to make the necessity of such -appeals very unfrequent.</p> - -<p>But if the mother is frivolous and self-indulgent, too weak and -indolent to take up the cross of refusing childish, unreasonable -importunities, for the glory that shall crown her when, by her -firmness, her children have become noble men and women,—then, God help -her who can thus lay the ax to the root of all domestic happiness! -For the husband and father to push his authority or command silence -with the children at home, constantly exposed to such influences, can -do no good; it only increases the difficulty. We know of no better or -surer way to save the children than to remove them from home and a weak -mother’s cruel indulgence, and place them in some school where health -and morals may be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span> carefully watched over, but one sufficiently strict -to save them from the evils of too great indulgence. This is a hard -task; but it has saved many children whose parents, either one or both, -were too foolishly tender or too cruelly indolent to control them, as -God has commanded, in their early years.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LX">LX.<br> -HOW CAN WE SECURE GOOD SERVANTS?</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">M</span>ANY inquiries reach us, both from city and country, as to the best -and most certain way to secure, if not the best, at least tolerably -good servants. It is a question impossible to answer with any degree of -certainty. The very best managers, the kindest and most conscientious, -are no more sure of being suited than those who work without method, -and are not governed by the law of kindness.</p> - -<p>“Where shall we apply when searching for help?” is a question that is -asked very frequently, and is equally impossible to answer. Some say, -“Advertise.” The next will give you such a history of her trials from -advertising, as will most effectually frighten you from that mode of -help-seeking. But they will tell you to go to one intelligence office, -and, if that fails, refer you to the next best. Another will say, -as we should, that of all places an intelligence office is the most -disheartening and the least reliable of any.</p> - -<p>A lady in the country, with a large family, who is so happy as to -have two grown-up daughters for her chief assistants, is desirous of -“obtaining a raw German or English girl, hoping to be able to train her -to do general housework properly,” and inquires where she must apply -to obtain such a one, “right from the ship,” before a week or two of -idleness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span> has taught her the “ways and the manners” of those who have -been in this country longer.</p> - -<p>We have very little experience with what are called “greenhorns,” or -girls right from the emigrant ships, though we doubt if they can be any -more ignorant or half so unmanageable as many of the girls who have -been in America for years.</p> - -<p>The emigrant ships which come to New York land their passengers at -Castle Garden. “The Labor Bureau of the Commissioners of Emigration” is -under the supervision of Eugene Casserly, and we are told by reliable -authority, that unless friends have secured employment for them before -they reach our shores, their names, if they come seeking work, are -registered in an intelligence office there. For any one proposing to -seek servants from among those just landed, it may be well to go to -that office, when these ships first land their passengers, and endeavor -to form as correct a judgment as is possible, before actual trial. We -are also told that some little conversation with the officers of the -ship will sometimes make the selection easier or more satisfactory. -During the tedious passage the officers have many opportunities of -seeing their passengers under circumstances that can, if they choose -to notice, enable them to form a reasonably correct idea of their -character and capacities; though we fear that officers on board -emigrant ships seldom give much heed to those under their care.</p> - -<p><i>A reader</i> inquires “if it would be safe for a young housekeeper -to attempt to train a ‘raw recruit,’ and, if so, from which of all the -countries whose people flock to our land we would advise her to seek -for a good, reliable servant.”</p> - -<p>It requires much patience and no small degree of skill to take a girl -from another country, whose whole life and associations have been -entirely different from our own, and bring<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span> her into a new life by -teaching her to forget all her early habits and modes of working. It is -a great and uncommon gift to be able to do this with patient kindness, -and yet with such authority as insures obedience. Success in such an -undertaking is a blessing both to the teacher and the pupil. Now and -then we find one who, under such teaching and benevolent guidance, has -fully repaid all the thought and care which has been bestowed upon her, -and who, by her fidelity and unwearied energy, has won the love and -grateful appreciation of all, and is looked upon as the good angel of -the family. But we regret to say such characters are rare; and though, -in some instances, the impatience and irritability of the mistress may -repress much of good which, under better auspices, might have been -developed, yet we do not believe as a general rule that the chief blame -should rest with the mistress. Not one in a hundred—and that we fear -is a high proportion—of all the Irish that come to our country can, by -any amount of care, patience, or indefatigable teaching, be transformed -into a neat, energetic, faithful, truth-telling servant; and as for -gratitude, once in a while you may find one who remembers your faithful -teaching, your kindness and care in times of sickness or trouble, who -cannot be turned from her fidelity and attachment to you; but for the -most part all this vanishes like the morning dew, at the first chance -for easier work or higher wages.</p> - -<p>The English and Scotch, as far as our observation goes, are more -inclined to make their employers’ interest their own. They labor as -faithfully, and watch with an eye to economy quite as earnestly, when -left in charge alone, as when the master and mistress are near them. Of -course there are exceptions to every rule; and we speak more from our -own experience than from what others say.</p> - -<p>The Swiss and Swedes are usually smart and capable; but their inability -to understand our language when they first<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span> come to us, makes their -instruction difficult and tedious, unless the mistress is well versed -in foreign languages.</p> - -<p>A good Welsh girl is one of the best,—usually neat, active, and quick -to learn; and as the pastors of the Welsh churches hold it a part of -their duty to exercise careful supervision over those under their -charge, that acts as a great safeguard.</p> - -<p>There are no better servants to be found than such as come from Canada -and Nova Scotia, <i>if</i> one can secure such as bring from their own -country a genuinely good character. Naturally hardy and industrious, -they are not the kind of girls who begin by asking, “How many in the -family? How large is the washing? Have you stationary wash-tubs? What -privileges do you allow your girls?” But whatever they are told to do, -if within the compass of their ability, they do it more willingly and -cheerfully than most. But there are not a large number of the Swiss, -Swedish, Welsh, or Nova Scotia girls to be had, nor are all who come -to our country of the better sort; so that whichever way we turn for -domestic help, one is almost compelled to feel as if buying tickets in -a lottery.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXI">LXI.<br> -THE GUEST-CHAMBER.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T is the prevalent opinion among housekeepers that the guest-chamber, -or “spare room,” must, in every respect, be the best and most desirable -chamber in the house. We think this a mistaken idea. Of course the -room should be pleasant and inviting, furnished as tastefully and -with as many conveniences as can be afforded, without curtailing the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span> -comfort and pleasures of the family, and with such regard to comfort -that a guest, on entering, may feel at once not only at home, but -as if surrounded with kindness and thoughtful care. All this can be -accomplished without appropriating the largest and most commodious room -for that purpose. The chambers most used, and, after the sitting-room, -most necessary to the comfort and happiness of the family, to whom the -house is <i>home</i>, and not a mere transient stopping-place, should -be the best ventilated, the largest, and most convenient. The mother’s -chamber and the nursery—if there must be two apartments, they should -be separated only by a door, that the mother’s care may be near at -hand—ought to be chosen with reference to the health and enjoyment -of those who are expected to occupy them for years. The “spare room” -should be a secondary consideration, for our guests are but temporary -residents of our rooms, to whom, indeed, must be given all the time -and attention that family cares will allow; while to the permanent -inmates the house is a resting-place from hard labor, a refuge from -outside care for some of the family, and to make it such to husband and -children, the housekeeper has a daily routine of duties which can be -wonderfully lightened by pleasant surroundings. And thus, for reasons -having a bearing on every member of the household, it seems to us very -desirable that more thought, care, and expense be given to secure a -pleasant outlook, a thorough ventilation, and attractive and convenient -furniture for the family rooms, than for the one set apart for those -who, however honored and beloved, can of necessity remain but a few -days.</p> - -<p>We would by no means leave the impression that a family should -selfishly retain their regular apartments when so many guests are -present that several rooms are needed. In times of large gatherings it -is very delightful to see each member of the household contribute some -part of his or her rights<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span> to the free and cordial entertainment of -friends. On such occasions, if they are not too frequent, it is quite -amusing and conducive to much sport and cheerfulness to meet in family -council and discuss the ways and means that may be employed to stretch -the house, so that twenty people can be comfortably lodged in a space -where usually eight or ten have only sufficient room. This, for a short -time, is no hardship,—it is like a picnic,—and every child, from -its earliest years, should be taught there is a pleasure in giving up -rights, whims, and fancies, connected with its own special apartments, -for the accommodation of others. The lesson is very easily taught, when -they see that this is only a temporary thing; knowing this, when the -pressure abates, they will return to their rooms better prepared to -estimate and appreciate the care and affection which has so pleasantly -consulted their taste and comfort in arranging the apartment which is -set aside for them.</p> - -<p>It is painful to glance into rooms in daily use, and see no indication -that a moment’s thought has ever been bestowed upon their adornment, -or to fill them with objects that, to the children’s eyes, will unite -grace and beauty with usefulness for the family’s every-day life. “O, -this will answer! It’s good enough <i>just for our own family</i>.” -But look into the guest-chamber, for which enough has been expended -to compel pinching in all that belongs to home and family comforts, -and all for the ostentatious display of hospitality! When you see -such incongruities and contrasts between the furnishing of the family -apartments and the “spare room,” you will find the same rule runs -through everything connected with the family. For every day use the -commonest kind of delf, with odd bits of broken or defaced china, -mismated cups and saucers, of every variety of color, and the food -carelessly prepared, and of the poorest and cheapest quality, showing -the same unwise disregard for family comfort.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span> But let a visitor -appear, and the table is dazzling with silver and cut-glass, and loaded -with dainties over which the utmost skill in cooking has been expended. -This is all wrong. <i>Home</i> should be first, company of secondary -importance. Let your family always have the best you can reasonably -afford; then cordially welcome your friends to share the good and -pleasant things with you. It is not easy to teach children to love -home, and prefer its society to all others, if they see that all the -good and pleasant and beautiful things you possess are only to be used -when you have visitors. You have no right to hope that your children -will have good manners or be refined, if they see only the coarsest of -everything when alone with you, but are called upon, with company, to -put on company manners. Love of home, refinement, and good manners are -blessings that will rust out and be destroyed, if not brightened by -constant daily use.</p> - -<p>But we have wandered out of the guest-chamber, and will now return. -Because we urge that the family apartments should have the first claim, -we would not be understood that no thought should be given to the room -your friends will occupy; we only claim that it should not be paramount -to all others. Select the furniture with such care and taste as your -means will allow. It is not necessary that one should be rich to do -this in the most perfect manner. Be sure that the bed is comfortably -made, and at all times scrupulously clean. If used only for <i>one</i> -night by <i>one</i> person, all the linen should be changed for every -new-comer. A white spread, even if not of the best and heaviest, is -always an improvement for any bed. Have a spare blanket neatly folded -and laid across the foot of the bed, unless you have a closet in -the room; then it is a protection from dust to put it there. A low -easy-chair or rocker is always desirable, for a lady friend may bring -a young infant with her; then, if in accordance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span> with, your ability, -furnish easy-chairs or a lounge, but no bedchamber should be crowded -with furniture.</p> - -<p>A table with a drawer, or small neat writing-desk, with an inkstand, a -few pens, paper, and envelopes, are desirable, as friends often come -unexpectedly, and neglect to bring the needed articles. To find such -conveniences ready at hand will be taken as a kindly attention, which -is among the little things that make a guest-chamber homelike.</p> - -<p>A brush and comb, a cushion and pins, should be kept on every bureau, -and the “spare room” is no exception to this rule. In this room one or -two bureau drawers should be left open for the use of guests. The comb -and brush, like those in other chambers, should be washed every week if -used, or after every new occupant. A few drops of ammonia, put into a -little soap and water, will cleanse a brush easily; rinse well in clear -water, and stand it up to dry. For the washstand, good soap, plenty -of towels, and a nail-brush should be provided. The water-pitcher must -be kept filled; a water-bottle, with a glass turned over it, or a -decanter with a stopper, is better for drinking water than a pitcher, -as water left exposed to the air in a sleeping-room soon becomes -impure and unwholesome. A slop pail or jar is needed by the side of -the washstand, unless the wash-basins are set to be filled from the -pipes, and emptied by the waste-pipe. A match-box, filled, is always -an important article in every room, and a little basket or cornucopia -is needed to hang by the glass, into which the hair from the comb and -burnt matches may be put. This should be emptied when the slops are -taken away; but hair must never be thrown in the sink, as it clogs the -pipes; always burn it.</p> - -<p>Of course, when there is no necessity for close economy, there are -a thousand elegances with which it is perfectly proper to beautify, -not only the family rooms, but the guest-chamber; but the things -here specified are convenient and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span> some really necessary for all -sleeping-rooms, and can be procured or made by home ingenuity. Beautify -and enrich the guest-room as lavishly as good taste and your ability -will allow, only let the family chamber be not neglected for that -purpose.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXII">LXII.<br> -THE CARE OF INFANTS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">“A</span>RE </span>our little ones so related to household cares, that Mrs. Beecher -will give young mothers, now and then, a few words of instruction -on the management of infants? I am a young <i>mother</i> as well -as <i>young housekeeper</i>, and although not very competent, I, -and probably many others, could easier work our way unaided to a -respectable standing in all that pertains to the manual labor of the -household, than risk mistakes in the care and training of our babies. -I think the little ones very necessary to the formation of a true -household, and am ready to accept any care and annoyance, if I may only -be certain that I am not giving my strength for naught, but so that -in these early days I may be enabled to ward off illness, and keep my -baby healthy and vigorous. It is usually happy and quiet; but there are -times when mind and body are taxed to the utmost limit of my endurance. -It often has <i>spells</i> of crying, when no skill which I possess can -soothe the disturbance, whatever may be the cause, or lull the little -one to sleep. In no way, either by medical advice or the exercise of my -own judgment, can I discover the cause, or find any indication which -would show the child to be unhealthy.”</p> - -<p>We most certainly consider the little ones very peculiarly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span> a part of -“The Household” department, and will cheerfully give any assistance to -young mothers that is within our power. We have before this been called -upon to answer similar questions, and see no reason to change the -answers we have felt to be correct.</p> - -<p>Young mothers are frequently told, we think very unwisely, “You have no -cause for anxiety. Most infants either have their crying spells until -they are three months old, or are very quiet and serene up to that -period, and then change and cry, and are restless most of the time till -some months later.” Believing this, the young mother tries to possess -her soul in patience, and struggles on, waiting for the good time -coming. But we think there is always some definite cause for a trouble -which robs the mother for months of a large portion of the pleasure -her infant should bring her, and makes the new world into which the -little pilgrim has just entered so truly “a vale of tears.” The cause -once ascertained, there must be some remedy found, through the large -experience of so many mothers who have been harassed and perplexed by -similar trials.</p> - -<p>Often kind friends manifest their affection and interest injudiciously -through their anxiety to see the new-comer, when both mother and child -would be much safer for a few days of perfect, uninterrupted quiet. -In the early days when an infant should be forming the habit of long -naps, and at regular times, and when the mother should be kept from -any excitement, these friendly calls begin, and each caller has great -curiosity <i>just</i> to look at the new baby, or <i>just</i> to wake -it one moment to see whose eyes it has borrowed. This incense offered -to maternal pride is too mighty, and the mother’s judgment bows down -before it. If she allows this foolish innovation once, she must twice, -and soon a restless habit is formed, and short naps and long cries -may be expected. It takes but two or three such friendly visits in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span> -the course of one day, to excite the child so that sleep becomes -impossible; and then, although it is not needing food, when all other -means fail to quiet it, what more natural than to put it to the breast? -But broken rest and nursing too frequently will assuredly cause pain, -and crying will, of course, be the result. In such cases, no remedy may -be hoped for until those to whom the child is committed, and who alone -should be responsible for forming its habits, have learned that sound -judgment and good common-sense must be their guides in the care of -their helpless little ones, and not maternal pride.</p> - -<p>But, on the other hand, take a child who from its birth is trained in -the most sensible manner,—washed, dressed, and fed at fixed hours, and -laid, without rocking, to sleep in the crib, where no foolish friend, -indulgent aunt, or grandmother is permitted to disturb or see it until -it wakes naturally and is ready for the next meal. All through the day -it sleeps, or serenely watches the dancing shadows on the wall, or -the bright sun through the curtains; and but for the little cooing, -rippling sounds that occasionally give token of its presence, one -hardly realizes that there is a babe in the house. But at night the -little one becomes restless and begins to cry. Every means for quieting -it are resorted to. It is patted, trotted, rocked, and sung to, but all -is of no avail. What can be the matter?</p> - -<p>Let us take this uneasy little mortal. Ah! we see. In dressing it in -the morning you pinned the little waists as tightly as you could draw -them, so that the body is as round and unyielding as a marble pillar. -The morning bath and change of clothes brought some relief from the -night’s fetters; and for the first part of the day, or, if uncommonly -strong and healthy, until night, the child may be quiet and endure; but -by night, release from so many hours’ bondage is absolutely needed. -How would you like to have your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span> clothes thus bound about you? No room -for free breathing, no elasticity of body! What chance for healthy -digestion? After many hours, during the day, of perfect inactivity, -what wonder if by night the poor baby feels this compression -insupportable! Its little limbs must ache, and the whole body become -stiff and numb. But instead of relief, when the child is disrobed and -night-clothes substituted, it is only to tighten the bands, and leave -it to pass the long hours of darkness as much like a mummy as before.</p> - -<p>When we see a child thus bound, we think it would afford us pleasure -to act as dressing-maid to the mother long enough to teach her what -torture she is thoughtlessly inflicting on her helpless babe. It has -no way of attracting your attention and begging for relief but through -tears. If the mother was subjected to the same distress for once, she -would ever after understand why her baby lifts up its voice like a -trumpet, to tell her of her sins.</p> - -<p>Whenever an infant begins to cry, without any apparent cause, by day -or by night, let your first act be to examine its clothing; loosen -it, remove the pins, or untie the strings, and see if the lungs have -free space to expand, and the body a chance to move every limb and -muscle. Rub the body gently with your warm hand, particularly the back, -lungs, and bowels, to promote the circulation which the barbarous -swaddling-bands have all day impeded. Try this remedy, particularly at -night, and, unless you again “put on the screws,” in most cases your -baby will fall into a peaceful slumber, and you may hope for unbroken -rest.</p> - -<p>But here is another whose garments are all sensibly adjusted, yet its -piteous cries are enough to make the heart ache. What is the matter? -Touch the little blue hands, and you will find them like ice. Take the -child in your lap; draw your chair to the fire; heat a blanket and -wrap about it; lay it on the stomach, across your lap, holding the -cold<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span> hands in one of yours; shake out the foolishly long robes, till, -hidden somewhere in this mass of flannel and embroidery, you find the -numb little toes, and hold them toward the fire till warm. See how -it stretches its feet to the fire, and puts the pretty face close up -to your warm hands. Many a child who has cried for hours, taxing all -the mother’s strength and skill, and filling her heart with alarm, -will, under this simple treatment, in a few minutes be fast asleep. -Only turning a child over in the crib—anything to change its position -when you find that it begins to cry or becomes restless before its nap -is finished—will sometimes soothe it to quiet slumber, give it the -benefit of a long sleep, and you sufficient time to accomplish many -things which must have been laid aside had baby waked too soon.</p> - -<p>Endeavor to imagine yourself in an infant’s place when it manifests -symptoms you do not well understand. You wrap its hands and feet so -closely, when you lay it down to sleep, that it cannot stir. Could -you remain two hours thus fettered without becoming cramped and full -of pain? Loosen the wrappings; shake up the pillow and turn it over -occasionally that the little head may rest on a cool spot (and, by -the way, a good hair pillow, not too full, and well beaten every day, -that it may not become lumpy, is far more healthful for any child than -feathers). If awake, change its position; or if it has lain long, take -it up, toss it gently, and play with it awhile to give it a pleasant -variety, and cause the blood to circulate freely through the whole body.</p> - -<p>If these simple methods do not pacify a crying child, it is very -probable that some of the above-mentioned causes have produced colic; -but do not give the simplest medicine till you have tried what virtue -there is in an <i>enema</i> of tepid water. Unless the crying indicates -the beginning of some acute disease, we have invariably found the -effects almost magical, and in no case will it be hurtful.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span></p> - -<p>Never nurse your child when you are chilled, fatigued, or terrified. -The child, however hungry, must wait, or be otherwise fed, until -your own system becomes quiet. It must be a very strong child who -will not suffer from the nourishment the mother offers while under -such disturbance. If your excitement proceeds from fear, go to your -husband or some friend who has the power to soothe or talk you into -quietude, before you see your child. If fatigued, sit down and rest; if -overheated, wash your face and hands in cool water, keeping out of any -current of air, and become thoroughly cool before you nurse your baby.</p> - -<p>If, unfortunately, you have allowed yourself to be overcome by anger, -keep far away from the little one, till you have asked God to still the -tempest, and feel that by his grace you are at peace. If in such an -unhappy state you dare to perform a mother’s sweetest duty, your child -will bring you to repentance before many hours elapse.</p> - -<p>In early youth we were once compelled to watch by a child in -convulsions. This was among our first painful experiences, and when -we were absent from home. To our dying day we shall never forget the -mother’s dumb anguish when told that the child must die. We afterward -learned that she had been furiously angry with her husband. The -angry voices frightened the child, and to still its crying, even in -the fierce heat of her passion, she put the babe to her breast. The -physician knew of her ungovernable temper, and, boarding with her, had -been the witness of the morning’s tornado. Over the suffering little -creature, he sternly told her that her temper had killed her child. -We never saw her but once after that sad trial, but the marks of the -penalty which followed so quickly upon her sin were still stamped upon -her face.</p> - -<p>Mothers do not enough understand or believe these facts, because they -are not accustomed to trace the effect to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span> cause; but a physician -who looks carefully into the cases which come under his care will -assure you that this is no fiction. A mother at all times is called -upon to guard well her own actions, and to practice much self-denial -for the sake of her offspring, but never more than when her child draws -its nourishment from her breast; and never are judgment and care in the -clothing, in the fashioning and adjusting of it, more important than -while the babe is incapable of making known its wants or discomforts -except by crying.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXIII">LXIII.<br> -PERSONAL NEATNESS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HOSE who have the oversight of household affairs, and perhaps are also -compelled to perform much of the manual labor themselves, cannot be -expected to keep their garments at all times spotlessly clean, still -less can they preserve their hands soft and delicate; yet there is far -too much inexcusable carelessness about personal appearance, among -those who are called upon to be always active and industrious, as well -as among those who have fewer responsibilities.</p> - -<p>“Well, I, for one, don’t see how a farmer’s or mechanic’s wife can help -it; she is obliged to rise early to prepare the breakfast, or see that -it is being properly prepared; then the milk requires early attention, -or perhaps butter and cheese are to be made: one duty follows another -in such quick succession, that from the time the housewife rises in the -morning until after dinner, at least, she is compelled to work rapidly -if she would be through in proper season. What time has she to think -about her own personal appearance?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span> A fine housewife that must be, who -would feel obliged to stop in the midst of some important work to see -if her hair was in <i>company order</i>, or that no spot of any kind -had soiled her dress or apron. It is all very well for <i>ladies</i> to -be thus particular, but laboring people have no spare moments for any -such ill-timed neatness.”</p> - -<p>We do not expect you to be always “in company order,” as you understand -that term: that would be exceedingly inconsistent; yet we could never -understand why one’s own family—those whom we love, and with whom -we hope to spend our days—should not have as strong claims upon -our thoughts, time, and personal appearance as those whom we seldom -see; and we do know that one can work, and work hard, and yet be at -all times so tidy that she need not be mortified to be <i>caught by -company</i>. Let us give you a few hints which good common-sense can -easily enlarge.</p> - -<p>When retiring at night give the hair a thorough brushing, not only for -your own comfort and to promote a healthy condition of the hair, and -remove all dust that through the day will naturally settle in it, but -also to secure greater expedition in dressing in the morning; this -done, fold it up loosely, draw a net or very thin cap over to prevent -tangling: with this precaution it should not take long when you rise to -smooth and arrange it neatly, though, unfortunately, smooth and neatly -arranged hair is no longer fashionable; but it is hoped that while at -work, even those who bow down most subserviently to the fickle goddess, -Fashion, so arrange that no loose hairs are flying.</p> - -<p>It is convenient to have morning-wrappers made with a narrow ruffle -round the neck of the same material as the dress; or, if yours are -not so made, before retiring baste or pin in a simple collar or -ruffle, that no needless time may be spent in dressing. If you are -not accustomed to a full bath every morning, a thorough bath at night -is very desirable, even if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span> only a sponge bath can be obtained, and -then a copious washing before dressing will occupy but a few moments. -The teeth should be well brushed, and the mouth and throat faithfully -rinsed in cold water morning and night and after each meal; no hurry of -work should be an excuse for neglecting this duty, if not for neatness -and comfort, for health’s sake. The hair in order, face and hands -washed, and teeth brushed, it will then require but a few minutes’ time -longer to be ready to leave your chamber and go to your early morning -labors in the neatest working order.</p> - -<p>A large apron made from heavy brown or white “butchers’ linen” is much -neater and more serviceable than calico or gingham; it does not wrinkle -so easily, and if wet will not become limp and useless so soon. The -sleeve of a morning-dress should be large enough at the bottom to be -easily folded back above the elbow and pinned up; or, if preferred, a -deep cuff is very convenient, as during work it can be unbuttoned and -turned back in the same way. Put a button and a loop of tape or strong -cord about a quarter of a yard apart, on four seams of the skirt at -least,—before, behind, and on each side,—so that you can loop up the -dress evenly instead of pinning it awkwardly back; it is much neater -and in the end will save time, and certainly it keeps the dress from -being soiled at the bottom, and thus saves much washing.</p> - -<p>Now go to work with bare arms, a large, long apron, and dress looped -up, too short to be drabbled; and it is very seldom, except in cases -of uncommon accident, that one’s working attire may not be kept in -suitable condition to meet any stranger or friend who may chance to -call during the busy hours of the day. With smooth hair and a clean -dress, you may consider yourself perfectly presentable; all preparation -needed should not occupy five minutes, and no caller should be kept -waiting longer. Unpin the sleeves, unbutton the dress where looped up, -take off the apron, wash hands and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span> face, and smooth the hair if need -be,—that is all. To keep a visitor waiting is not in good taste; we -think it inexcusable, unless compelled by some unusual hindrance. In -that case, send in your reasons or some apology for delay, when the -caller will either wait patiently, knowing that you could not help it, -or, if in haste, return regrets and leave. This is far more kind and -courteous than to keep any one waiting fifteen or twenty minutes, in -haste perhaps, but not daring to leave, because thinking each moment -you will enter.</p> - -<p>If, while preserving, or in any other way, you stain your hands, a -few drops of muriatic acid will remove the stain at once. It is very -convenient to have a bottle of this liquid always in the house, for a -black, ugly stain on the hand is a very disagreeable sight; but the -bottle should be put in a secure place, where children or careless -servants cannot meddle with it. It is poisonous, but perfectly safe if -kept securely and used as directed. Wet the spot with the acid, rub -quickly over the stain, and immediately wash in clear water, else it -will burn and make your hands uncomfortably rough. After washing off -the acid, give your hands a good washing in hot soapsuds, using a nail- -or finger-brush to clean all round the nails, which in preserving or -paring fruit are usually badly discolored. Those brushes which have a -nail-cleaner at the top of the handle are the best. No one should be -without a finger-brush, and to none is it more indispensable than to -those who have the most of the family work to do. Wet the brush and -rub soap on it; then brush the nails and inside of the hands with it -before you finish washing them. Nothing more effectually removes the -stains and dirt, which will of course settle on the inside of the hands -when handling pots and kettles or working over the stove; and even if -your hands are roughened by no such labor, the nail-brush is of great -service.</p> - -<p>Often when in haste, the dress or apron is caught against a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span> hook or -nail, and a sad rent is made. Whatever your hurry, do not go a moment -with this accident unrepaired. If it happens while some article is -over the fire which may not be left a moment without danger or injury, -you can at least pin up the unsightly hole. Always carry a small -pincushion, filled with pins, in your pocket; if you do not need one -yourself, somebody else may be in trouble for want of only a pin; and -make it a point, as far as possible, to keep a needle ready threaded -near by, so that at a moment’s warning you can temporarily run up any -rent made while at work, which, if in your power, is far better than -pinning it up. A big grease spot or prominent rent on a woman’s dress -is a poor recommendation, and we confess we never see them without -forming an unfavorable opinion, if a stranger, or experiencing a -feeling of mortification and annoyance, if a friend.</p> - -<p>A looking-glass, comb, and brush are out of place in the kitchen, but a -small glass in a back hall or entry close by, with a shelf beneath for -the comb and brush, are quite necessary for your servants, and it is a -great convenience to have another near by for your own use, so that if -hastily summoned from the kitchen, you can smooth your hair, and by the -glass assure yourself that there is nothing untidy about you.</p> - -<p>There is one kind of personal neglect that we often see, with great -surprise, and quite frequently among a class of people who have little -to do with hard work, and no excuse for the carelessness from lack of -time. We have seen, just above point-lace and diamonds, <i>ears</i> -that have long been unacquainted with a plentiful supply of soap -and water. A pretty ear is very attractive to us. We always notice -particularly the eye and ear in every one we meet; and if we see brown, -dirty-looking streaks behind the ear, or the rim and inside dirty, -with unseemly accumulations of ear-wax remaining uncared for,—if it -is on a girl who applies for a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span> place, we would not receive her; if on -a “lady,” we find it hard to feel much respect for her. Unless in a -desert, unblessed by water, there is no manner of excuse to be found -for such neglect.</p> - -<p>These hints may seem quite insignificant, but we cannot think them -so. Aside from the comfort and respectability of scrupulous neatness -in your own habits, you are, by your example as you should be by your -precepts, giving ideas of neatness and order to your children and -servants. But if they see you come down in the morning with your hair -in disorder, your garments dirty or torn, shoes or boots slipshod or -unbuttoned, you may be sure your example will be very readily imitated, -and probably greatly exaggerated. If a girl is uncleanly in her person, -there is every reason to presume she will be slatternly about her work, -and particularly so about her cooking. Therefore, if only for selfish -reasons, it is most desirable that young housekeepers should have a -high standard for personal cleanliness, and live in full accordance -with it.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXIV">LXIV.<br> -ARE HOUSE-PLANTS INJURIOUS TO THE HEALTH?</h2> -</div> -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“M</span>RS. BEECHER: My wife and I are both attentive readers of the -‘Christian Union,’ and we venture to ask for a few words of information -upon the subject of <i>house-plants</i>. We are passionately fond of -flowers, but have frequently seen it stated that plants, especially -flowering plants, vitiate the air, rendering it unfit for breathing -purposes. Is that really true? We like plants in our sleeping-rooms, -but of course would give them up if convinced that they were -injurious to the health. We have heliotropes,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span> roses, geraniums, -lilies, fuchsias, and a number of other plants. Do these render the -atmosphere noxious to life and health? As plants liberate oxygen and -absorb carbonic gas, we think they ought to be wholesome. Or is it -the <i>blossom</i> that does the mischief? Is a sweet-smelling flower -poisonous? Will you please set us right upon this matter, and oblige</p> -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Two Young Housekeepers</span>.”</p> -</div> - -<p>We copy this letter entire, hoping by so doing to bring this subject -to the attention of those whose opinion and judgment are of greater -worth than our own. There are many conflicting opinions concerning the -effect which plants and vines, growing in the house, and filling it by -day and by night with their delightful atmosphere, have upon the health -of their worshipers. If the wise and scientific among our readers will -give this matter attentive and sober thought, we hope to find in the -multitude of counselors the wisdom which is so much needed.</p> - -<p>It is not very many years since physicians lifted up their voices -against this pleasant adornment of our homes, by which some portion of -the joyous summer may be wrested from the grasp of the frost king, and -which enables us while indoors, to forget that fingers and toes are in -danger the moment we venture outside of the carefully tended parlor -garden.</p> - -<p>But our physicians change their opinions like other mortals, and at the -present time some affirm that plants and vines in the house, or even -in the sleeping-apartments, are health-giving. They tell us that the -carbonic gas which is being constantly set free from our lungs, and -which is detrimental, is at once absorbed by our flowers, while these -at the same time give to us, in exchange, the oxygen which, in its -proper place and quantity, is so necessary to health and life.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span></p> - -<p>Other physicians assume that a growing plant is not noxious or in any -way detrimental, but that as soon as it begins to blossom it should -be at once removed from a bedchamber, and if allowed to remain in the -house at all, should be placed, while in bloom, as far as possible from -the family apartments.</p> - -<p>Again, it is stated—and all these conflicting opinions, we are told, -come to us from the “best and most reliable authority”—that no plant, -in flower or not, is at all injurious in any part of the house, so -long as the perfume from the blossom is not powerful and not at all -offensive. “Who shall decide when doctors disagree?” It seems to us -very important that our learned, scientific men—those who make the -effects of the various gases on life and health a careful study—should -give this question a thorough investigation, and when, after mature -research, they arrive, as they suppose, at a proper conclusion, should -publish their opinion in simple terms, such as all can comprehend. We -should rejoice if the conclusion of the whole matter might be such that -all could lean upon it with no fear of its proving by and by a broken -reed; but it is difficult to keep pace with changes in the results of -scientific investigations.</p> - -<p>One year certain health-principles are established, the next they are -set aside for some other thing. Some articles of food are prohibited -as being very injurious, but in a few months the prohibition is cast -aside. One mode of diet is declared pernicious, shortening the days, -and making the few that are granted undesirable. Yet, just as you are -ready to accept this theory, you are told of those who have lived -wellnigh to a hundred years, or perhaps have passed that period, -always healthful and cheerful, yet the proscribed diet or article of -food has been habitually indulged in by them.</p> - -<p>For our own part, we find it difficult to believe that the plants -cultivated in our homes, and which so beautify and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</span> enliven our -winters, can be injurious, provided the rooms in which they are placed -are kept <i>well ventilated</i>. In severely cold weather it may not -be advisable to open a window just over the plants, but when windows -are raised to air adjacent rooms, where there are no flowers, then -open the doors leading from them to the parlor, or winter garden, that -the cold breeze from without may sweep through the whole suite of -rooms for a few moments until the air is entirely changed. This, even -in the coldest winter, will do the plants no harm, nor their owners -either, but, on the contrary, will be very beneficial, making both -more healthy and vigorous. Many a lady in mid-winter sits by the fire -or register, yawning and stupidly sleepy, with a dull heavy pain over -the eyes foreboding a severe headache, who could throw off all this -torpidity, defy the headache, and rise up refreshed and vigorous, if -she would simply throw open her doors or windows just long enough to -drive out the overcharged air in the room, and by so doing bring in -exchange a pure and invigorating atmosphere from the outdoor world; -and house-plants will be equally benefited by the same prescription.</p> - -<p>We should not think it wise to have plants in bloom in the -sleeping-apartment, unless the room was large, and the doors so -arranged as to favor frequent and complete change of the air.</p> - -<p>It is always desirable, just before retiring, to raise the windows for -a few moments, not only in the parlors, but in the sleeping-apartments, -particularly if they have been used through the day as sewing-rooms. It -will insure a more refreshing sleep, and also a brighter awakening in -the morning. House-plants should be placed on a stand having castors, -so that they can be easily rolled away from the windows when opened, -until the room is fully aired; or, if freezing cold, an old cloth kept -for the purpose, or old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</span> newspapers, should be thrown over the plants -to protect them from being chilled.</p> - -<p><i>Cut flowers</i>, we think, should not be left in a bedroom -overnight. Just before retiring, set them into a cool, dark closet. -They will keep fresh much longer by using this precaution, and the -occupants of the chamber escape any possible injury from them. The -water in which cut flowers are put ought to be changed every night and -morning, or it will become slimy and offensive, as well as injurious.</p> - -<p>The love of flowers is very desirable in children, and should be -cultivated from their earliest years. For that reason, if for no other, -we should be exceedingly sorry to have any physician whose judgment we -respected forbid the cultivation of house-plants, particularly in the -nursery. In that room every bright and pretty thing should be gathered, -and certainly nothing more quickly attracts the attention of children -than a choice collection of flowers. To find these all about the house, -but especially in the nursery,—their own peculiar domain,—secures a -taste for them far more surely than to see them kept exclusively in the -green-house, or in rooms set apart for their culture and nothing more. -Yet no mother will risk her children’s health in the least degree, -and if her physician assures her flowers in any part of the house are -harmful, she will eject them at once. We do not at all believe they -are injurious to the health, and know that they greatly increase the -happiness of those who cultivate them. But we are open to conviction, -and if any one of reliable judgment can bring sound reasons against -keeping these house-gardens, we should be glad to know of them.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXV">LXV.<br> -BAD BUTTER.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">O</span>F all the needless discomforts common to boarding-houses and hotels, -we know of none so truly inexcusable, nor which subtracts more from -one’s enjoyment, than the use of bad butter for cooking purposes. -When placed on the table in the butter-dish, if found to be imperfect -or quite unpalatable the butter can easily be rejected. To eat good -bread without butter, or, if the bread is unsatisfactory, a fine mealy -potato with a little salt, is by no means the greatest hardship that -you may be subjected to. But imagine yourself seated at the table, and -a large dish of fresh peas, green and tender, brought in. You have -been hoping, almost impatiently, to see them each day, and now what a -feast is yours, in anticipation. You can hardly wait till the soup is -removed. Visions of the splendid peas, of sweet and delicious flavor, -which you used to eat at your father’s table, are floating before you; -and tender remembrances of the dear hand that then so deftly ministered -to your childish appetite are rising, until you are fast verging toward -sentimentality, when your turn comes to be helped. These peas are the -first real <i>country</i> peas, picked right from the vines, you have -tasted since your home was established in the city, and you eagerly -bid farewell to sentiment, and address yourself to the full enjoyment -of visible, tangible things. How you would like to take a real big -mouthful in a childlike manner! But you control your eagerness, and, -ladylike, demurely carry the spoon to the mouth. O horrors! Have you -fortitude and self-possession sufficient to enable you to swallow -that detestable morsel? Politeness and unwillingness to exhibit your -disgust to others at the table control you. With a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span> shuddering gulp -you swallow, but hold your breath till you snatch a piece of bread or -a mouthful of water to send after, with some faint hope of removing -the vile taste. What is it that so disturbs you? <i>Rancid butter!</i> -Is there anything, any taste more revolting and abominable? That -delicious dish of peas spoiled, irretrievably, by a spoonful of the -nauseous abomination, manufactured by careless dairy-women, and bought -by easily gulled grocers, or by those persons possessed of india-rubber -consciences, capable of stretching to any imaginable length, who -will sell this abomination for good butter. Or it may be some sharp, -managing landlady has bought it, knowing its bad character, for -economical reasons. Her boarders will not eat very heartily of any dish -that is flavored with such butter, and yet they will be compelled to -eat something, even if distasteful. We know such ideas of economy—not -honesty—are common; but boarders are very foolish who submit to this -imposition. If they choose, they can easily teach such unscrupulous -managers that being “penny wise and pound foolish,” in the long run, -will not secure prosperity.</p> - -<p>But you will try to judge charitably. Perhaps this was a mistake; -and it may be that only the peas have suffered. You will try to look -cheerful and satisfied, and turn to the nice piece of broiled chicken -on your plate. Alas, alas! Juicy and tender, broiled just right to -a perfect brown, but all destroyed by this miserably rancid butter! -“The offence is rank. It smells to heaven!” What can you do? Where -turn? Beets, beans, succotash,—that dish to which, with green peas, -you swore allegiance in early childhood, and have faithfully kept the -vow,—all destroyed by this most villainous compound. You nibble at a -bit of bread or piece of potato, and try to wait patiently till the -dessert is brought in, for you see no alternative but to make that -your principal meal. You wonder if others are as uncomfortable, but,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span> -conscious of the intense disgust your face may exhibit, fear to look -boldly around.</p> - -<p>Well, there is a balm for almost every woe, and here comes the -dessert; it may bring healing for your wounded feelings. What a -delicious-looking apple-dumpling! This atones! Will you take wine sauce -or hard sauce? You don’t like wine sauce; but the <i>butter</i> in the -hard sauce,—dare you venture? Why, surely no one will risk such butter -as the vegetables were seasoned with in a delicate sauce! But one taste -is sufficient to show you that you have not yet fathomed the depths of -economical audacity. You put back your plate and try a bit of pie. Even -into the pastry the enemy has found entrance.</p> - -<p>But you say, “What is one to do? The rooms are engaged for a month, -and I must stay the limited time or forfeit the price of the rooms, -and that I cannot afford to do; yet I shall surely starve. I hardly -feel that I can eat a meal without butter. The table butter is not -so intolerable as that used in cooking, but even that is all I can -endure. What can I do?” Will it not be better economy to leave at once, -and lose the rent of your rooms, rather than stay and starve a month, -or attempt to “fill the aching void” by that which may derange your -stomach, and induce fever, dyspepsia, or other sickness, which will -cost, in doctors’ bills, ten times the price of your rooms to eradicate?</p> - -<p>This great evil will never be remedied while those who board, either -regularly or only for a few weeks in the summer, continue to “put up” -with this discomfort as one of the ills of life which <i>must</i> be -borne. Let it be once fully understood that all boarders—all who -frequent fashionable resorts—are fixed in their determination to -endure this cruel imposition no longer, and that as soon as they find -poor butter is a part of the regular diet, and good butter only an -occasional luxury, they will at once leave, and we think the hotels -and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span> boarding-houses will soon find means to procure a good article. -Let this class of purchasers alone refuse to buy any but the best, -and the large number of poor butter makers will soon be taught the -necessity of greater carefulness in their dairies.</p> - -<p>Bad butter is entirely a needless discomfort. The fault begins, of -course, with the manufacturers. They have no excuse, as a general -thing. Once in a great while, there may be a reason for a few pounds -of poor butter in the dairy, which, though it should be a source of -regret, is not necessarily a disgrace. Sickness in the family may -sometimes compel the overtaxed housekeeper to neglect the dairy, or -leave it for a short time in incompetent hands, who, either indolently -or ignorantly, fail to give the milk-pans a thorough scalding, or -leave the cream too long on the milk and too long unchurned, who do -not understand salting or working over the butter; but in such cases -no one with any self-respect will allow the butter to leave their own -house. If at all usable, they will sooner submit to the disagreeable -necessity of using it for their own food, or put it at once into the -only place where poor butter has any right to be,—the soap-grease pot; -anything rather than do themselves the discredit, and their customers -the injustice, of sending it into the market. That is a species of -meanness that should be considered unpardonable; and just as soon as -the grocer learns that his customers will not, under any consideration, -buy poor butter of him, and the dairymen understand that the grocer -will not look at any but the very best, this mischief will be rooted -out, “the plague be stayed”; poor butter makers will find their -occupation gone, and leave the field to more conscientious and more -competent manufacturers, or at once, from self-interest, if not from -self-respect, resolutely set about securing instruction, and learn the -only way to make good butter. This is easily done; care, neatness, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span> -good judgment are all that is requisite after the mode of operation is -understood, and the preliminary steps are simple and easily taken. It -is a marvel that this nuisance has been so long tolerated. It is just -as easy to make good butter as poor. It is simply want of neatness -or deficiency of judgment that fills our markets with a miserable -preparation that is only fit for soap-grease or the pigs.</p> - -<p>First, take care that your cows are not allowed food that will affect -the taste of the milk,—such as turnips, cabbage, or onions; then the -cows’ bags and the milkers’ hands must be washed perfectly clean before -beginning to milk; any dirt or bad flavor from the cow’s bag or the -hands, that may find its way into the milk-pail, will taint the milk -and injure the flavor of the butter; for it should be borne in mind -constantly, that there is nothing that receives any foreign taste so -readily as butter.</p> - -<p>Next, all the utensils—pails, strainers, pans, skimmers, churn, -butter-bowl, and ladles—must be kept as sweet and clean as scalding -water and a hot sun can make them. The cream, even in the coldest -weather, must not be allowed to remain on the milk over thirty-six -hours, and in warm weather even less. In hot days remove the cream as -soon as the milk begins to sour: none will rise after the milk changes. -Although it will, of course, become <i>thicker</i> by souring, it does -not follow that it will be any better; on the contrary, every moment -the cream is left on sour milk takes from the sweetness, quality, and -purity of the butter. In churning, the motion should be even, not -too rapid, and, when gathered, the butter must be well worked over -and salted, and set on the ice, or in a place so cool that it will -soon harden and keep so; but be sure that no meat, fish, fruit, or -vegetables are put in the milk-room or cellar,—nothing from which -the milk or butter will contract any taste. It will require a second -salting the next morning, to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span> remove what buttermilk may be left from -the first working. One of the great merits of the Blanchard churn is -the facility with which the buttermilk can be freed from the butter, as -the less manipulation the better for the butter, provided you secure -entire freedom from buttermilk.</p> - -<p>Many put in a little saltpetre, to make the butter hard and firm,—a -bad practice, we think, not only because it gives a slightly unpleasant -taste to the butter, but also because it may prove injurious to the -consumer. A butter-pail or pot, perfectly sweet, should be well rubbed -with salt, and the butter be packed in it, and well pounded down so -as to leave no air-holes; then cover the butter an inch deep with -brine strong enough to bear up an egg, and put to the <i>brine</i> two -table-spoonfuls of pulverized saltpetre. This will help to keep the -butter sweet and hard; and, used in the brine, will neither impart any -acrid taste to the butter nor be in the least degree unhealthful.</p> - -<p>These rules strictly followed by our dairy-women, we are confident that -there will be no complaints of <i>bad butter</i>, but the comfort and -happiness of the consumers be greatly increased, and the labor of the -butter makers in nowise augmented thereby.</p> - -<p>We lately saw a receipt for keeping dairy utensils pure and sweet, -which we mean to try, as we think it cannot but be advantageous. Keep -close by the table on which the milk things are washed “a small tub -or a hogshead, according to the size of your dairy. In this, slack -some good quicklime, enough to make a thin whitewash; fill with water, -cover closely to keep out dirt and dust. The lime will settle, leaving -a saturated solution of lime-water over it, as clear as spring water. -Wash the utensils as usual; then dip each article into the cask of -lime-water, giving them a quick turn, so that every part shall be -immersed in the lime-water, then set them up to drain and dry, and -the purification<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span> is complete.” We presume in the case of a churn, -cheese-tub, cheese-press, or other large article, that pouring the -lime-water over it will answer the purpose just as well, though using -the lime-water up sooner than by dipping into the cask.</p> - -<p>The lime in the clear water instantly neutralizes the acidity of the -milk which may yet remain in the cracks or seams of the milk-vessels. -The lime keeps the water pure all summer, and the waste and evaporation -may be made up by adding clear water when needed, as the lime settled -at the bottom will keep up the strength of the saturated solution.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXVI">LXVI.<br> -OCTOBER.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE brilliant hues in the mountains, the falling leaves in the lanes -(over which the horses’ feet make such sweet yet melancholy music), -remind us that October, the brightest, dearest month in the whole year, -has come; but while we rejoice in anticipation of the glorious hours it -promises, we must not forget that during these mild, invigorating days -our houses must be set in order properly to meet the sharp November -weather, which is close at hand, and the fiercer blasts of winter which -will follow.</p> - -<p>Now the frosty nights and cool days will soon relieve us from the -plague of flies, which have by their unconquerable impertinence so -perplexed and disheartened all good housekeepers through the summer; at -least we may promise this relief, if they are hunted every night and -morning from the dark corners where they delight to hide at the first -approach<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span> of frost. Attack them every evening with brush and broom, -driving them out doors into the cold night air, closing doors and -windows after them, and a few frosty nights will rid you of this evil -for the winter. After each battle sweep up all the dead and disabled -and burn them, that from out of the pile which you will have gathered -no stunned or crippled fly may be ready to rise up against you with the -morning sun. As the cold increases they become stupid and less active, -and huddle together in masses on the ceiling or windows, where they -cling, too stiff and torpid to shun your approach, thus affording a -good opportunity to brush down and destroy them in large quantities. -If up each morning before the sun, as every good housekeeper should -be, you will have another favorable time to remove them; but if both -night and morning these opportunities for banishing your enemies have -been neglected, you will find as soon as the fires are kindled, or the -bright warm October sun shines through your windows, they will come out -from their hiding-places and be just as busy through the day, and far -more annoying, than in July and August. If you have been vigilant, the -frost and snow, combined with your unwearied skirmishes, will soon set -you free, and the flies be remembered only as trials of the past; and -through the winter, at least, you may hope to rest from your labors in -this particular direction.</p> - -<p>But never imagine that you can sit down in idleness; as the flies -are routed, or on the retreat, you will find yourself beset with -<i>wasps</i>. During the chilly September days they begin to seek for -winter quarters. They are well content for the most part to weave their -summer nests away from the house, in trees and shrubbery; but as cold -weather approaches they are prone to select some snug retreat under -the rafters of the barn or the eaves of the house or attics. They like -to curl up in large masses inside the window-blinds<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span> on the east or -south side of the house, where they remain too torpid to stir at your -approach, until the sun pours in its warm flood of light, to wake them -to life and activity. Wherever they are thus found massed together, -if at all within reach, be sure and spare no effort to destroy them -early in the morning, while in this torpid condition. It is very easy -then to kill them: take a pitcher of boiling-hot water, raise the -window carefully and pour it over them; or if nested close on the -window-glass, pour it down between the upper and lower sash and it will -destroy large quantities of them instantly. The few stragglers that -were only slightly touched with the hot water will not be vigorously -active, and you can easily brush them into a pail or dust-pan and burn -them. Unless you take some such method of removing the wasps, it is not -safe to raise your windows to air your rooms and let in morning air -and sun, as they will be sure to seek shelter in the chamber instead -of remaining inside the window-blind, because as the sun warms their -lodgings they become quite lively; and, once in the room, should they -crawl in under the pillows and sheets, a favorite shelter for them, the -warmth of your body at night would most probably rouse them, and they -might disturb your slumber in a manner by no means agreeable.</p> - -<p>It is unfortunate that wasps often attack without provocation; and -such applicants for winter shelter should be destroyed as effectually -as possible, especially when there are children about. Their stings -are bad enough for an adult to bear, but it is piteous to see a -child suffer from them; because to the pain is added a terror not -easily controlled. Notwithstanding the utmost vigilance, some may -so skillfully secrete themselves that your first knowledge of their -presence will be a sting. Every one should keep a speedy antidote in -the house, and nothing gives so thorough and instantaneous relief as -<i>cut tobacco</i>,—the only thing that we know of that it is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span> good -for. We never fail to have a paper close at hand, where every one in -the house knows where to find it. Wet a small quantity of it and lay -at once on the spot stung, holding it on tightly for three or four -minutes, and the pain and swelling will be at once removed.</p> - -<p>These annoyances disposed of, you can now commence a thorough -house-cleaning, and at once begin to remove all the marks by which the -flies have disfigured your house and furniture, and disturbed your -peace through the warm weather.</p> - -<p>No good housekeeper will allow the glorious October days to beguile -her into forgetfulness so far as to neglect house-cleaning until the -raw and chilly November weather is upon her, and winter is close at -hand. October is by far the best month for fall house-cleaning, not -only because the flies are disposed of, or so far under your control -that they can be kept out of the house, but also because the weather -is usually not so warm that such work is exhausting and severe, nor -so cold that the necessary exposure chills; the cleaning can be -accomplished with more comfort and less fatigue than in any other month -of the year.</p> - -<p>During the summer all the small fruits have been plentifully supplied, -and later, peaches, pears, and grapes have furnished much enjoyment -and many luxuries; but all these good things levy a tax upon us in -some shape or another, generally defacing furniture or leaving ugly -stains on our clothes or table linen. The clear, frosty nights that we -may soon look for will aid materially in eradicating the stains; but -the injury done to furniture, especially articles with marble tops, -requires a different treatment.</p> - -<p>Fruit stains may be removed from linen, without in any way injuring the -fabric, by rubbing yellow soap on both sides of the stained spots; then -wet some starch in cold water or in lemon-juice to a thick paste, and -spread over the soap; rub this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span> starch-paste into the cloth thoroughly, -and expose the linen to sun and air till the stains disappear. If they -do not entirely go in three or four days, repeat the application. This -is for stains that have been in some days; if taken when fresh stained -there is little trouble in removing them. Hold the stained place over -a bowl and pour on <i>boiling</i> water; let it filter through slowly, -pouring on the water gradually till the stain disappears; then lay the -article in the hot sun for an hour or two, when it may be washed and -ironed. The water used must be really boiling, and the stain fresh -made, not dried in for days, for this remedy to be efficient. As by -this mode one avoids all danger of injuring the texture of the cloth, -it is worth while to take a little trouble at once and save the linen -instead of waiting until quite dry. Bleaching liquids, chlorate of -lime, Javelle water, and many other preparations, are good if carefully -used.</p> - -<p>When marble is stained with fruit, oxalic acid diluted with water, or -oil of vitriol and water, rubbed on the stain and left a few minutes, -will remove the spot; but they must be used with care, for if left on -too long they will destroy the polish of the marble. Rub off very dry, -and polish with chamois-skin.</p> - -<p>There are a multitude of receipts for removing stains both from linen -and marble, but very many, although they remove the stains, are liable -to remove the cloth also, or in marble destroy the polish; others are -useful, and in time our readers shall have them.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXVII">LXVII.<br> -THE SLAVERY OF FASHION.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“W</span>ORN OUT,” “<i>Overtaxed</i>,” “<i>Used up</i>,” “<i>Too tired -for anything</i>,” are expressions daily heard from mothers and -housekeepers; and the languid step, pale, care-worn face, and heavy -eyes bear witness that these are not foolish, unmeaning words, but -all too near the truth for safety. Most are ready to recognize the -fact that half the feebleness and ill health among women arises from -over-exertion while attempting to carry burdens too weighty for the -constitution. Yet how much of this is needless, in no wise increasing -the comfort or happiness of the family circle, but, in every department -of household labor, the result of blind, unreasoning adherence to the -dictates of fashion. Look backward but one half-century. Are those of -us who require three or four servants to keep the household machinery -in working order any happier than our mothers were? We turn from our -fashionable cooking and elaborately served tables with longing for the -simpler yet most excellent cooking of the olden time, when one servant -was sufficient, and often none at all was required; the mother, with -her little daughters round her, preferring to do all the work without -a servant, that she might herself teach her young girls the lessons of -domestic economy as none but a mother can teach them.</p> - -<p>Was all that labor more wearing to health and strength than the cruel -bondage in which we live, while laboring to secure, from servants, -the care and efficient work absolutely necessary to the present style -of living? With how much more appetite we partook of the plainly -cooked and more healthful food in those days, undisturbed by the -bustle and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span> confusion of many courses, or the constant attendance of a -waiter, whose eyes and ears are usually more observing of the little -pleasantries and freedom of the family circle than of the service -which a fashionable style demands, and whose tongue is ready to retail -all that is said or done at our table, and “with additions strange.” -The meal finished, the labor of clearing away and washing the many -dishes now required is fourfold what was demanded in the times of more -simple and pleasure-giving customs, to say nothing of the reckless -heedlessness and destruction fostered by the haste necessary to be -ready for the next formal meal.</p> - -<p>But the slavery of providing for the table is nothing in comparison -with the over-exertion which fashionable dress exacts. Even if the -labor of the olden time was burdensome, and time and strength too -heavily taxed, yet the exercise of the whole body, and frequent -opportunities of breathing fresh outdoor air, which housework compels, -were far more likely to secure firm health than can be hoped for if one -sits for hours bending over ruffling and trimmings, thereby restricting -the proper action of the lungs, and straining the eyes until they -become weak and prematurely old. In many cases this must all be done -without help, for few, comparatively, can afford to hire a seamstress, -and yet be able to spend money as lavishly on such elaborate dress as -the present monstrous style demands. But we are not sure that even -that herculean task is as injurious to health and happiness as the -severe strain on strength, nerves, and temper, which those ladies whose -purses are always full experience in traversing the city, roaming from -store to store, in their anxiety to secure the first and newest style, -and at the same time torturing themselves lest, after all this labor, -they should misjudge or be beguiled into wrong selections. With this -fear ever present, they repeat those tiresome journeys day after day, -making themselves disagreeable and uncomfortable,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span> and exhausting the -wonderful long-suffering and patience of the shopkeepers before they -can decide which of all the many patterns they will purchase.</p> - -<p>But the material being at last selected, can they now rest from their -labors? Ah, no! their trials are but just begun. The ruling power in -the fashionable world—the dress-maker—condescends to acknowledge -that the articles selected are all satisfactory, though twenty or even -thirty yards are hardly enough for a full dress (our mothers looked -very fine and far more inviting and graceful with but ten yards in -their dresses). But now comes the great struggle. How shall the dress -be made? Mrs. —— has twelve small frills or flounces around her -skirt, and a train two feet long; then there must be a bustle “ever -so big,” over which falls a <i>pannier</i>, with puffs, bows, buttons -innumerable, bands, folds, and—mercy! we are getting beyond our -depth, for we cannot possibly understand all the terms given to the -piles upon piles of strange “fixings” which go to make up the whole -of that most abominable deformity called a fashionable dress. But the -poor harassed devotee has them all at her tongue’s end, for her heart -is full of them. If Mrs. —— has a dozen ruffles or puffs, she will -not be outdone, but will have eighteen or twenty, and a bustle twice -as big, which shall extend her overskirt and all its puffs and bands -twice as far; and ever so many more dozen buttons all over,—above, -below, before, behind, between the frills or bows,—<i>anywhere</i>, -so that Mrs. ——’s trimmings are surpassed. “But, truly, now, dear -madam, is this the <i>very</i> latest style? Isn’t there something just -a <i>little newer</i>?” And then another discussion begins, anxious, -nervous, and trembling, lest some one should be a little ahead of her -in style. The poor slave spends many precious hours before she dares to -decide on the pattern. But at last that question is settled; and now -another trouble assails her. The arrogant dress-maker well understands -the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span> power these devotees of fashion have vested in her hands, and her -victims, proud, sensitive, and overbearing perhaps to all others, must -bow to her will and caprices. She will take her own time to finish the -work.</p> - -<p>“But, O madam! I <i>must</i> have it for this party, before any one -else has this new style.”</p> - -<p>She pleads in vain. No coaxing will avail. She must await the despot’s -will, and spend hours or days excited and unhappy, fearing that the -dress will not be finished in season for the party. And when at last -it comes, look at it! We could laugh, were we not ashamed to think -that women can be so absurd. What can be more uncouth, ungraceful, or -deforming than a lady dressed in the extreme of fashion, or indeed with -but half the absurdities that are daily seen. A camel, with its hump -and peculiar gait, is graceful compared with the figures with frowzy -hair, dresses puffed and looped up over a bustle, that we see stooping -and tottering on high-heeled boots, or with the additional incumbrance -of a long trail, sweeping through our parlors, and, at the slightest -beck of fashion, drabbling through the mud.</p> - -<p>Will our women never learn that they are giving health and strength, -almost life, “for that which satisfieth not”? Once in a while, when the -bondage has pressed too heavily, and they sink exhausted on a sick-bed, -some few wake to a dreamy kind of consciousness of their folly; or a -mother, who has endeavored to make her little girl as “fine as the -finest,” is prostrated by giving her strength for this absurd waste of -time and comfort, and begins to see that there is a better way she can -manifest her love for her child.</p> - -<p>A year or two ago we received a letter, from which we will copy a few -sentences:—</p> - -<p>“I have been trying to get away to the country with my family of two -little girls and the baby; and, that they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span> might appear in as fine -feathers as any other birds, have overworked and gone to bed sick, -instead of being seated in a nice parlor-car, inhaling the pure country -air, as we whirl along, away from the city.... When I was a girl, -we wore <i>our own hair</i>; and a white muslin dress, with a fresh -ribbon for a sash, was all that was needed for the largest party. -And how we did enjoy ourselves, and life! The elderly people talked, -or played whist, while the young ones danced right merrily the old, -square cotillion, Virginia reel, etc.; and mirth and pleasure was -the <i>finale</i> of many a day whose early hours had been given to -domestic duties, which then were shared by all at home. <i>One day</i> -with a dress-maker, and <i>no</i> machine, made a dress entire, without -fatigue. The “<i>artiste</i>” was often a lady like ourselves, and sat -at the same board, and did her work conscientiously, while the day she -passed with us was no dreaded ordeal, but rather a pleasure to look -forward to....</p> - -<p>“Well, to-day, lying on my bed, overtaxed and overworked, I have been -thinking of these things, and then of other mothers, who, like myself, -spend all their strength in toil, and lie awake all night, ‘too tired -to sleep’; and so employ the wakeful hours in planning work for another -day, using up as fast as possible the precious gift of life, which the -good Father above gave to us.”</p> - -<p>Now, why can we not be content to live happily and easily? I speak not -of the sorrows that from time to time come upon us, when the heart -bleeds, and the wounds quiver long; for the deep scars which tell where -the strain was hardest, tell also of the healing which He who scourges -never fails to bring. <i>God did it.</i></p> - -<p>But the toil of sorrow and care we make for ourselves have no promise -of His relieving. The slavery of fashion, which so often leads to sin, -cannot be carried to his throne, and left there for a blessing. Will -not some one tell us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span> some practical way to begin a reform, to release -us from a bondage which is becoming intolerable?</p> - -<p>It may be to have one ruffle less; to tuck more sparsely the flounce -of even the innermost petticoat, or to sew one yard less edging on a -baby’s shirt. But whatever and wherever the lesson, I pray you begin -it at its A B C; and as it advances, I have faith to believe that -headaches will be lessened, “prostrations” less nervous, appetites and -sleep more regular, and women lift their heads like the flowers after -the rain, glad and grateful.</p> - -<p>We had something to say of the injury done to our little children by -this early training in devotion to fashion; but we must leave that for -another time.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXVIII">LXVIII.<br> -PICKLING AND PRESERVING.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the preliminary steps to almost all new enterprises there are -“lions in the way,” from which it is very natural, at first, to shrink -back with at least a partial discouragement; and, as a general thing, -the two most formidable “lions” which cross the young housekeeper’s -path are <i>pickling</i> and <i>preserving</i>; that is, if she has -not, before marriage, taken part in this work, under her mother’s -supervision. We hear more complaints and repining in this direction -than in any other. Time, strength, and money, it is affirmed, are -spent in earnest endeavors to succeed; but the time and strength are -given in vain, and the money is wasted; so their failures compel -them to believe. The pickles become slimy and moldy; the jelly won’t -harden; the sweetmeats ferment; the canned fruit turns sour. In short, -“the troubles<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span> and trials,” writes one, “incident to this portion of -housekeeping are enough to make young girls forswear matrimony, and go -into a convent; only they never will believe in these trials until they -are bound; and then, instead of a convent, a boarding-house would seem -the only alternative, if they would escape manifold vexations; for if -a young housekeeper do not succeed in all her duties, but particularly -with her pickles and preserves, ‘Mrs. Grundy’ is sure to go prying -about, and expose every failure, and these failures are attributed to -shiftlessness, instead of misfortune.”</p> - -<p>We have great sympathy for any one in her first attempt to manage -this portion of fall labor, unless able to secure the support of some -judicious friend familiar with all the minutiæ necessary to accomplish -it creditably. Courage, self-reliance, and a resolute will are of very -great advantage, and can usually carry one successfully through most -difficulties; but experience is, after all, a wonderful assistant in -securing success,—in “making crooked places straight, and the rough -places smooth” and easy. Our household journals and papers are full -of instructions and receipts for preparing every kind of pickles and -preserves; but with all these valuable aids, it will require several -experiments, in most cases, before a beginner can feel that the -difficulty is mastered, and this work stripped of all mystery; once -successfully done, however, it becomes as simple as making bread, -pastry, or cake.</p> - -<p>Still, we cannot but think that too much time and strength are -expended in private families on some parts of this labor. Since this -kind of work is done on a large scale, and these luxuries so cheaply -procured in the many excellent establishments arranged expressly for -the business, and which have reduced the various operations to the -simplest and easiest forms, we feel confident that housekeepers might -relieve themselves of this part of their cares, and be none the poorer -for it; certainly this is true as far as canned fruits and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span> preserves -are concerned. It is but reasonable to suppose that in these large -manufactories, with every appliance and convenience to secure the most -perfect and expeditious work, in many articles they can equal, if not -surpass, the most expert cook or housekeeper.</p> - -<p>The regular, old-fashioned preserve, with “a pound of sugar to a -pound of fruit,” is much less used since the system of canning fruit, -and thus retaining the natural flavor, has been introduced. This is -certainly more healthful, and to most tastes more palatable, than the -rich preserves. The person must be fastidious indeed who could ask -for any sweetmeat more delicious than the pears, peaches, cherries, -and plums that now fill our markets and groceries, and there can be -no doubt that for those who must buy the fruit, and take the labor -and risk of canning it, it is far more economical to buy it from the -factories or grocers ready canned. Even when one has the privilege of -raising one’s own fruit, if it can be sold with reasonable profit we -think it questionable if there is anything saved—any real economy—in -canning the fruit at home, instead of buying it. For those who have -leisure, and do not find it important to be very exact in economizing -strength or money, it is all very well to do everything of this kind -at home. To many whose time hangs heavily on their hands,—and, -mythical as it seems, we suppose there are such,—preserving as much -as they can of every variety of fruit, even to the absurdity of using -watermelon-rinds and cucumbers, is, perhaps, a real pleasure. Though, -while books are to be obtained, and fine flowers and beautiful scenery -to be seen, we cannot comprehend how one can spend time in this work, -simply for the enjoyment of it. But it is all well enough if it gives -pleasure; and doubtless articles prepared with one’s own hands have a -flavor more acceptable than when they are bought ready for use. But -to all housekeepers whose minutes are precious, these labor-saving<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span> -manufactories are a great blessing, and the slight difference that may -be recognized in the excellence of the article, when compared with the -home-made, is not to be noticed when we remember the additional time -and ease, to say nothing of health, one secures by buying preserves and -canned fruit from reliable establishments.</p> - -<p>Whether these ideas hold good with regard to pickles, may be somewhat -doubtful. We cannot but think that the large amount of spices, now -so much used in making pickles, is injurious to the health; even -the simplest kind, we are inclined to believe, should be used with -moderation; and as the imported pickles, and those prepared in the -manufactories in this country, are often compounded with articles known -to be injurious, it is safer to make whatever is required in the way of -pickles, whether mixed or plain, at home, under your own eyes. Some of -the various kinds of vinegar now in use, and largely employed in the -factories for pickles, is very injurious. The process of “greening” -pickles is carried on with most reckless disregard of health. A bottle -of small, delicately-greened pickles is very attractive to those who do -not know the poison hidden in them.</p> - -<p>Cider vinegar of the purest quality is the best. But in the process of -making, if pickles are soaked or boiled in a brass kettle, they are -poisoned by the verdigris, or acetate of copper, which is formed by the -action of the vinegar on the brass. Acid dissolves the lead that there -is in the tinning of saucepans, and corrodes copper and brass, and -if it remains in such vessels any length of time the vinegar becomes -very injurious. For these reasons metal kettles should be discarded in -making pickles. When necessary to boil vinegar, use a stone jar on the -stove, and also use <i>wooden</i> spoons and forks. Most suppose that -the delicate green cannot be obtained without the use of alum in the -brine, and in this brine they must be soaked, boiled, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span> allowed to -cool in a brass kettle half a day. They claim that by thus soaking, -the skin is acted upon by the metal, or acetate of copper, and by -soaking afterward in hot water this poison can be so far removed as -to be no longer injurious. It is said that if soaked long enough in -the brass to bring out the full green, pickles would be dangerously -poisoned; and that one can tell if this has been done by the clear, -<i>light</i> green color; but if, after soaking in the alum and brine, -<i>in brass</i>, half a day, and then being removed and soaked in hot -water, the action of the heat turns them a <i>dark</i> grass green, -the poison is destroyed. This may be so, but we prefer pickles made -green without the help of brass, or not green at all. There are ways by -which all adulterations may be discovered. The chemist would find no -difficulty in ascertaining; but very few of those most interested—our -housekeepers—are competent, even if they have time or inclination, to -examine these things scientifically, and therefore it is well to insure -against harm in domestic manufacture by having it fully understood that -metal kettles of every kind should be discarded.</p> - -<p>The many kinds of sweet pickles that have become common within a few -years are, we imagine, less liable to derange the stomach than such -as are spiced highly, and prepared mainly with vinegar. The mixed -pickles—piccalilli, Indian pickle, Bengal pickle or chutney, and -the Chow Chow—are all fiery, and must require an uncommonly strong -digestion to be eaten without injury.</p> - -<p>But each one must judge for himself. Pickles of all kinds will always -be in use, no doubt, and it is well for every housekeeper to know how -they are made. Pickles should be always kept covered with vinegar, and -if at any time there are indications of their becoming moldy, boil up -the vinegar again, adding more spice. Have the jar two thirds full of -pickles, and one third full of vinegar. Keep the jar closely stopped, -as exposure to the air will make them soft.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span></p> - -<p>In greening pickles (for they can be greened enough without brass) keep -them closely covered while the hot vinegar is on them, so that none of -the steam may evaporate. Boil them only four or five minutes, or it -will take away their strength, and they will soon become soft.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXIX">LXIX.<br> -WHAT HAS BECOME OF ALL THE LITTLE GIRLS?</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>E look in vain into many pleasant homes, or into the streets, cars, -or steamers, for what was once a common sight, and was then, and -ever must be, the sweetest object in nature,—a simple, artless -<i>little girl</i> with all the pretty, unaffected ways and manners of -unsophisticated childhood, fresh and beautiful, about her. There is no -lack of small beings, dressed in such a marvelous style that Darwin -himself would be puzzled to make out the class to which they belong; -but we find nothing to remind us of the little girls we used to know, -either in dress or manners.</p> - -<p>In former times a pretty muslin bonnet or a simple close-fitting -cottage straw was thought the most appropriate covering for a little -head, protecting the bright eyes from too intense light, and shielding -the rosy cheeks from the sun’s too fervid kisses; but now, leaving -eyes and cheeks entirely unprotected, we see <i>something</i> placed -on the sunny curls, which is elaborately trimmed with bows, feathers, -a flower-garden, or perhaps a mingling of both; for, although it is -too small for even a good-sized doll, the milliner, with an ingenuity -which would have been praiseworthy if exercised in a more sensible -manner, has contrived to pile up trimming enough to hide even the -faintest suspicion of a bonnet. But, what is sadder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</span> than the lack of -true taste and good common-sense in this stylish affair, we see no -semblance of childlike simplicity in the wearer. And the bonnet is but -the beginning of this unfortunate change which we mourn; the pretty -<i>baby waist</i>, the plain white dress, the neat muslin or merino, -so appropriate, which little girls used to wear, are supplanted by -incomprehensible garments, the fac-simile of the grand dame’s attire; -flounces, fringes, bows, and double skirts looped and festooned -in an astounding manner; the child’s—no, we mean the <i>young -lady’s</i>—height (there are no <i>children</i> in these days) is -less than her circumference. This dress is put on over a hoop, and the -“mite” who is made to carry such an incongruous burden totters about -on high-heeled boots. This tiny specimen of womanhood, hardly weaned -from her mother’s breast, or, more probably, a wet-nurse’s, shakes out -her redundant robes, bending and twisting her small body in grotesque -imitation of the women spoken of by the Prophet Isaiah, “with haughty -mien, walking <i>and mincing as they go</i>.” See how the little ape -looks over her shoulders as she tottles about, to be sure that her -hoops give her dress and figure the correct <i>wiggle</i> her sharp -eyes have observed in the stylish mother and her fashionable friends. -It is lamentable that all the simplicity and beauty of babyhood and -childhood should be destroyed by fashion.</p> - -<p>Added to the absurdity of the dress, these little women attempt to -discourse on the “latest style”; with their companions or dolls you -will hear them imitating the discussions on this subject that they -daily hear in the parlor or nursery from their mother; or, still -imitating, with a contemptuous toss of their little heads, they will -inform their listeners that they “couldn’t think of ’sociating with -those girls, because they are <i>not stylish</i>!”</p> - -<p>A few days since, as we passed out of a store on Broadway, our -attention was arrested by the conversation of two little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</span> figures -seated in a fine carriage, waiting, doubtless, for mamma to finish her -shopping. They were dressed in a style positively overwhelming: their -hats were wonders of skill; their gloves had the orthodox number of -buttons, with bracelets over them; a dainty handkerchief, suspended -from a ring attached by a chain to another ring on the little doll-like -fingers,—the dress was simply indescribable. The elder was speaking -to the younger, who, scarcely more than a baby, sat demurely by her -side: “O, mercy, just look at that horrid little girl who is crossing -the street! she has no hoops on, and not a single flounce; no trimming -at all on her dress! and, oh, see her gloves; she has only one button! -Pshaw, she’s nobody,—not a bit of style!”</p> - -<p>The younger lisped a reply, which we lost as we passed on; but it was -painful to think of the training they must have received which enabled -them at that early age to judge a child of their own years so quickly -by the rules of fashionable dress, and because her attire was not in -exact accordance with that week’s style, turn from her with contempt as -something too low for their notice.</p> - -<p>Then, again, how soon a child, taught by daily precept and example, -learns to watch her little companions with envious or exultant feeling, -as the case may be! How quickly she begins to grow hollow-hearted and -deceitful; receiving, as she sees her elders do, a companion with open -arms or a welcoming smile; expressing the greatest affection, but the -moment she leaves begin to criticise or make unkind remarks.</p> - -<p>“I don’t like Nellie one bit, mamma; she’s such a proud, stuck-up -thing! I suppose she thought I should feel bad ’cause her dress had -more trimming, and was a little newer style than mine. I didn’t let -her know that I noticed it. But I do think it real mean, mamma, that -she should have nicer things than mine. Papa is twice as rich as her -father.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</span> It made me mad to see her show off her dress; and she kept -looking at mine and sister’s in such a way.”</p> - -<p>“I hope, my dear, you were polite to Nellie.”</p> - -<p>“O yes! but, mamma, I was awful glad when she left; though I was just -as smiling and pleasant as could be to her face.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a good girl. You must always be very polite and cordial to your -companions, you know. But I must say I think Nellie was quite vain; and -you must never show that you are proud of your clothes. I shall go out -to-morrow and get you that pretty dress you teased so for, I think!”</p> - -<p>“O mamma, I am so glad! And as soon as it is made I’ll go right over -and call on Nellie. Won’t she feel bad when she sees my new dress! It -will be ever so much prettier than hers.”</p> - -<p>And the mother smiled complacently, with never a thought of the wicked -feelings she was cultivating in her child. O mothers! how can you be -so blind! Both by precept and example you are teaching your children -to make dress their idol, and to know very little of anything but that -which pertains to fashion; to be envious or contemptuous of their -little friends and companions, according as they are dressed better or -worse than themselves. Can you ever reflect that God did not commit -such treasures to your keeping without meaning some day to call upon -you to render up the account of your stewardship? What can you say, -when asked how you have trained the young souls given to your care? -Can you reply, “We have been instant in season and out of season in -teaching them,”—what? To work for the good of others; to learn to do -right; in all simplicity to love and obey the Saviour, who, taking a -little child in his arms, said, “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” -<i>Of such?</i> Ah, no! Not of such children as those; you are training -to avoid, not evil communications, but unfashionable companions; to -look on the outward adorning, and not on the heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</span></p> - -<p>But it is not alone the worldly-minded who make no pretence to any -higher law than their own selfish gratification, who bow the knee to -fashion. Christian mothers, are you guiltless? Think of the time, the -health and strength given to dress; the bondage which compels you to -pervert all real taste, to do violence to your own natural instincts -of neatness and true elegance, and accept the absurdities of fashion, -simply because the ruling style requires it. If you are thus influenced -and beguiled, do you flatter yourselves that your children will not, -from their earliest years, regard such homage as important? We do not -think it wrong to dress neatly and in as good taste as possible. We -blame none for giving so much thought to their own dress and their -children’s as to provide those articles that are appropriate and -becoming to the different styles of face, figure, and complexion. It -is natural, and we think right, for a mother to dress her darlings -as neatly and prettily as she can, without unnecessary waste of time -and strength; but we do think it sin to spend money and time lavishly -in following the dictates of fashion, and not of good taste and -common-sense; no one pretends to believe that there is either of these -in the present style of dressing. It is utterly destitute of grace; -is ridiculous to the last degree; but <i>fashion</i> compels, and -women—<i>Christian women</i>—obey, and teach their little daughters -like obedience! O, the money, time, and strength given to destroy, -by the absurdities of fashionable dress, every vestige of beauty and -grace which God gave you in your little ones! Take the week through, -hour by hour, do you not give more time and thought to your own and -your children’s dress than you can spare for your Master’s service? -Do not your children gather from your daily walk and conversation -that to be fashionably dressed is of more importance than loving and -serving the Saviour, who died for them and you? Judging by your daily -conversation,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</span> which will they think of the greatest importance, the -service of God, or devotion to fashion? To which do they see you -giving the largest part of your time, the adorning of their little -bodies,—“the plaiting the hair, the wearing of gold, and putting on -of apparel,”—or in teaching them that which is not changeable, “not -corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is, -in the sight of God, of great price”? What can you say, fashionable -Christian mother, when He calls you to give an account of your -stewardship?</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXX">LXX.<br> -PROCRASTINATION.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">A</span>N </span>inclination to put off till to-morrow that which were more -appropriately done to-day seems quite natural to almost every one, -but it is one of the symptoms of depravity, and the earlier it is -fought and conquered the better. There are some sensible mothers whose -constant endeavor is to prevent this habit from gaining a foothold in -their children’s characters. From earliest childhood they watch and -nip it in the bud. Those who have lived an active life—every moment -claiming its own special work—are the mothers who can best train -their children to understand the full value of the prompt, regular -performance of each duty, however small.</p> - -<p>“Come, little one, it is time to get up.” The child is perhaps -disinclined, thinks one more little nap would be comfortable. But it is -time to prepare for breakfast, and what is gained by delay is nothing -but the first lesson in selfish indulgence and procrastination. The -child does not need it. If it went to bed, as it should have done,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</span> -when the birds folded their heads under their wings, it requires no -more sleep. A few gentle words or caresses will soon chase all traces -of slumber from those bright eyes, and the little one, merry as the -birds, is soon ready for breakfast.</p> - -<p>While children are very young begin this education, and see that it is -distinctly understood that no excuse but illness can avail. They must -be up at a given hour, and by the time they are twelve years old you -will find it difficult to keep your little girls and boys in bed beyond -the regular time. You have thus established a habit of early rising -which will cling to them through life; that is, if their mother gently -and lovingly impressed upon their minds what they would lose by delay -and gain by promptness. But, although a stern and severe compulsion -may secure obedience while under your eye, by that course you make the -act so disagreeable and repulsive, by associating it with your stern -manner, that they are tempted to rush to the other extreme whenever -they can do so with impunity.</p> - -<p>Children naturally love play better than work or study; but it is -better that they early learn that there is something besides play which -even little girls and boys can and must do. They, of course with no -evil intention, will be inclined to stretch the play hour or recess -a little beyond the appointed time. It is the parent’s duty to watch -and guard against this, not on account of the real good which a young -child might accomplish in these few extra moments, but for the sake -of establishing a habit which will be of infinite service for the -child in after years, that the discipline, though for the present not -joyous, may work for its future happiness and usefulness. Therefore, -make the hours for recreation as frequent as seems necessary, only let -it be distinctly understood that when that time expires there must be -no delay, no procrastination. As the child grows older and able to -exercise<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</span> a little judgment, it will soon become conscious of the loss -incurred by dilatoriness, and the gain secured by a prompt performance -of duty. A judicious mother will soon teach it how to contrast the -two modes of action, and a few unfortunate experiments will fully -corroborate her teachings. The penalty to be paid for leaving any duty -which should be done <i>now</i> until “by and by,” generally follows -very speedily after the omission.</p> - -<p>When quite young we were given a piece of work one morning which should -not have occupied an hour’s time. In the afternoon our brothers were to -go to a neighboring town in a sleigh, and we were promised a ride with -them, on condition that this work was finished in season. It was a rich -treat, and we were greatly elated. The work we were set to do was so -easy we made merry over the idea of a failure. But the sun did shine -so brightly, and it was so pleasant to stand at the east windows and -watch the men at the huge wood-pile, sawing and splitting the winter -store of wood; and it was such fun to see the old gander chase our -little roguish brother away from the place where the stately old fellow -kept watch and ward over his mate on her nest, that every few minutes -our sewing was forgotten and we were seated on the old-fashioned -window-sill. A gentle voice often reminded us that we were wasting -time, and must be left behind if that simple seam were not finished in -season.</p> - -<p>“O mother! I can finish it just as easy!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear, if you work steadily, but not if you delay in this manner.” -Dear, patient mother! How much easier for her to have taken our -neglected work and done it herself than to keep such a vigilant watch -over a giddy girl; but for a child’s good a mother bears all things.</p> - -<p>Time flew by, unregarded by our idle fingers. Presently a sleigh dashed -up to the door, the bells jingling merrily. It cannot be time! But a -cheery voice rang out, “Come,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</span> sister, not a minute to spare,”—and -that little, little bit of work not quite done!</p> - -<p>“O mother, mother! only a few more stitches! See! O mother, let me go!” -But, even while we uttered this piteous wail, we knew that mother could -not break her word. When she took her sobbing little girl on her lap, -and explained how necessary it was that we should suffer the penalty -of our persistent procrastination, if we would ever destroy this bad -habit, we were conscious that her grief was deeper than our own, that -she suffered with us. We did not soon forget that lesson, and it did -not require many similar ones to effect a pretty substantial cure.</p> - -<p>No one is more strongly tempted to put off till a more convenient -season, here and there, some minor duty, than a housekeeper whose -cares are many, and helpers very few. By afternoon she is so weary, -rest would be very pleasant, but just as she thinks she may indulge in -one half-hour’s quiet, some little item rises up that should receive -attention to-day. “I have half a mind to let it pass till to-morrow,” -but to-morrow has it own duties, and unexpected ones may arise. A few -experiments in this most excusable of all procrastinations will teach -the folly of the attempt to add to the already filled register of the -next day’s work the duties of the present time.</p> - -<p>The clothes are brought up from the wash; on sorting them out and -putting them in place, you find a small hole in this article or a rip -in that. You are very tired, your head aches; to thread your needle and -mend those few small rips or holes seems a burden. “It is so little -I’ll let it go till next week, one week’s more wear can’t make much -difference.” And it is laid aside unmended. How is it when it next -comes up from the laundry? A huge rent or a most appalling hole is -the result. A heavy wind arose when the clothes were on the line, and -with every snap a dozen more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</span> stitches were added to the work that -procrastination has cost you, if indeed the garment is not ruined past -any repairing. “A stitch in time saves nine.”</p> - -<p>Some friends have just left your house. During their visit much work -accumulated, while you felt bound to entertain your guests. Either you -are with no help, or your servants are very busy, and you say, “I’ll -take off the soiled linen from the bed, and leave the room to air a few -days, or till a more convenient season.”</p> - -<p>The airing is all very proper, but two or three days are not needed -for it, and, if you leave the bed unmade, you will not find it wise -or at all labor-saving in the end. Let the room and bed air until you -are ready to take off the sheets and pillow-cases that need to be -changed. When you go up to do that, take with you the clean articles, -and being there, why not finish the work and leave all in order? But, -if instead of that you say, “We’ll put the ‘spare chamber’ in order -to-morrow,” perhaps just as you are retiring, a carriage stops at your -door, and guests quite unexpected arrive, who find it convenient to -stop with you overnight, to be ready for the morrow’s train, and late -in the evening the guest-chamber must be prepared. Just try this once -or twice,—you’ll not care to try it oftener,—and see if some one -don’t come unannounced just as, when tired and sleepy, you are ready to -retire. Will it be any easier to do the work which was put off till a -“more convenient season,” at this late hour, than it would have been to -have finished it at the proper time?</p> - -<p>“There is hardly enough bread to last through to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it is stormy; we sha’n’t be likely to have company to-morrow. I -guess this will answer, or we will stir up some biscuit if needed.”</p> - -<p>In spite of wind or weather, be sure if you risk the delay<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</span> you will -have unexpected guests, and will regret that you neglected to be ready -for the emergency.</p> - -<p>“Here are some letters which should be answered immediately.”</p> - -<p>“I guess it won’t make much difference if I leave them till to-morrow. -I am very busy now.” So you wait. Are you any less busy to-morrow? A -headache, or a sick child, or company prevents an answer then. Your -correspondent waits anxiously for your reply, the failure of which may -be the cause of great inconvenience.</p> - -<p>We could multiply examples, but your own experience will fill up -the picture, and, if you are wise, teach you that each day has its -own duties, which can be mastered; but if you add to them the work -of yesterday you make the burden grievous to be borne. Your old -“copy-books” told you, when you were young, that <i>Procrastination is -the thief of time</i>. In riper age remember it. “Never put off till -to-morrow that which you should do to-day.”</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXI">LXXI.<br> -THE SUREST REMEDY.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>O the troubles and annoyances which befall housekeepers there is no -end, if they are obliged to rely on servants for comfort and peace of -mind. In social gatherings the conversation often turns on the trials -they experience from this part of their household. It is not at all -strange that it should be so, for “out of the abundance of the heart -the mouth speaketh,” and verily in this particular the heart has ample -reasons for being abundantly filled, and there is no end to just cause -of complaint.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</span></p> - -<p>One girl is a good worker, but impudent; another is always willing, -but very untidy. This one is neat, but so slow that her work is never -finished. That one is unequaled in order and efficiency, but her temper -is so uncertain you cannot make a suggestion without risking a storm -that quite destroys all the pleasure her excellent work might otherwise -afford you. One is extravagant and wasteful; another economical in -using materials for your family, but dishonest in appropriating your -property for her own benefit.</p> - -<p>So, in a company of a dozen ladies, one takes up the discourse as the -other ends, and, without exaggeration, proves her own trials even more -vexatious than her neighbors’. It is possible that the mistress, by -searching, may find some slight symptoms of these very defects in her -own character. The least said on that side of the question the better, -perhaps. But, as we once heard a lady say, “We don’t hire servants for -that sort of actions.”</p> - -<p>But, whatever may be the defects of the mistress, we know there -are very strong foundations on which to build the complaints about -servants; for it cannot be denied that these “troublesome comforts” -have it in their power to diminish the sum of domestic happiness, -to a degree which requires much grace and patience to endure with -equanimity; and that the power they have usurped is on the increase -will not, we imagine, be gainsaid. Once the employés in the family -fully understood the position they were engaged to fill in their -employer’s house; and knew that certain service was paid for, which -must be strictly and honestly rendered, or they would lose their place, -and having lost it, unrecommended, would find it difficult to secure -another. Once—and the time is not so far distant but that most of us -can still remember it—one girl was expected to do the work that we are -now compelled to employ three to do. And this one girl did the work, -and did it well,—far better than we can hope<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</span> to have it done now. She -was not injured by it; no complaints were made, we mean in ordinary -cases,—in every station some may be found who abuse power and cruelly -oppress those whom circumstances have placed in an inferior position; -but these are only solitary cases; as a general thing there was no -ground for complaint. The service was kindly and cheerfully rendered. -But now, with three or four girls, the work drags, is imperfectly done, -and “the work is too hard” is the constant cry. Why is this? What -reason can be assigned for a change so complete and annoying?</p> - -<p>In part because the foreigners who land on our shores, and upon whom, -unfortunately, we are obliged to depend for all labor which we cannot -do ourselves, come to us with strange ideas of what is meant by all -being “free and equal”; or, if you take one right from the emigrant -vessel, it requires but a few weeks for those of their nation, who, -having been here longer, think themselves better informed, to impart -their knowledge, and teach erroneous ideas of these rights. Under such -bad influence it takes but a short time for the modest stranger, whom -you received into your house and endeavored to teach a correct mode -of labor, to be transformed both in dress and manners into a bold, -self-willed girl. Her countrywomen gather about her and warn her not to -be “put upon,”—a favorite phrase among those whose chief aim is to get -the highest price for the least labor. “Stand up for your rights”; and -they proceed to expound a code of “rights” which, if they were allowed -to carry into practice, would soon leave us entirely at their mercy.</p> - -<p>They are told to insist upon just so many times at church, and certain -days “out.” Then the funerals—and there never was such mortality as -is always happening among our servants’ relations, particularly the -cousins—and the weddings, and the baptism of infants for which our -girls are to stand “sponsors,” all come upon us in quick succession.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</span> -Then, every step of the work each girl is expected to do must be -carefully defined, and you are not to be allowed to call upon them, on -any condition, for one thing over and above the specified labor.</p> - -<p>How has this class of persons succeeded in taking and maintaining such -a stand? In part it has grown up, gradually, from seeing in their -employers the independence that is a distinctive peculiarity in our -national character. But that which, when rightly regulated, is a noble -thing, when used by uninformed and undisciplined minds, for selfish -ends, is not likely to bring forth the most desirable results.</p> - -<p>But is not the trouble and disturbance through our servants, which -particularly characterizes the present day, in part the fault of the -<i>ignorance</i> of the mistress? Our ladies give much less attention -to domestic affairs than in former times; and our young ladies are -growing up, for the most part, poor housekeepers. The material for the -very best of servants may be easily ruined by a poor mistress. Much -time and money is expended on the education of our girls; but that part -of education which would help to keep them strong and healthful is -almost entirely ignored,—we mean regular work, at stated times, about -the house; not only to establish good health, but to secure a thorough -knowledge of domestic operations.</p> - -<p>“What time has a young girl to do anything at home?” True. What time -for home affairs, with the present mode of education, and the present -customs of social life, have young men or maidens? Our teachers know -they are expected to “fill” their pupils to the utmost extent of their -mental capacity, and social life grasps every moment that can be spared -from books or schools, even claiming the hours that should be given -to sleep. No matter about the health. “That is not our business,” say -the educators; and, “That is not our business,” echoes Fashion. Our -children<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</span> go from one study to another—rushing on to be educated—as -fast as possible; and, in two years after leaving college or seminary, -of what practical use will half these studies, for which they have -given so much time and health, be to them? Far be it from us to -undervalue a thorough, practical education,—one that will fit our boys -and girls to lead good and useful lives. “Its price is above rubies.” -But we sometimes think that they are being educated to death; mind and -body enfeebled and made unhealthy for lack of practical common-sense on -the part of parents and teachers. If more time was given to physical -labor while our children are growing up, and less time to schools, and -fewer studies crowded into each term, the fathers and mothers would not -grow old so fast,—being relieved of part of their work; and our young -people would have nobler minds in sounder bodies.</p> - -<p>But to return to housekeeping, and the young who must take that -position: let them secure as much knowledge as they can without injury -to health, but let it be understood that, whatever place they may -be called upon to occupy, a thorough domestic education will be the -best foundation on which to build, and by which they can best secure -happiness, honor, and usefulness.</p> - -<p>Instead of filling the papers with lamentations because they are not -permitted certain rights which an unregulated ambition urges them to -claim, let our women first be certain that they fully understand how -to exercise all the <i>rights</i> which are unalienably their own, and -which no one attempts to dispute. Let these rights be well cared for -and properly executed, and who will object to any woman’s reaching -out after, and securing just as many more as she can possibly assume -and manage successfully, without neglect of other duties already her -own. Let the highest right, the noblest that woman can desire,—for -it is next to the angels’,—the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</span> <i>supreme right</i> which God gave -us, and no man disputes or can usurp, be fully appreciated and acted -upon,—the right to make a glorious <i>home</i>, to make our husbands -nobler, because they are happy and comfortable there (they don’t know -how to do that, they can’t take care of themselves without us); the -right to nurse and rear and bless our children; the right, with the -ability, to teach our servants by our own practice how to be a blessing -to themselves and to us. Then enter the lists, if you choose, and do -battle for just as many of what have been called <i>man’s rights</i> as -you are capable of managing well, or have any ambition for.</p> - -<p>Until these first duties are understood and properly performed the -prospects for home comforts and happiness are very shadowy. The fault -is not wholly with the servants. If those duties which belong to the -mistress are delegated to uneducated, ill-informed subordinates, what, -even with the very best intentions, can you expect but anarchy and -misrule? Care and experience are as essential to good housekeeping and -home comforts as in any other profession or field of labor.</p> - -<p>The lawyer cannot look for success in his profession if he simply -opens an office and delegates the care to an ignorant office-boy, -while he himself knows nothing about law, and never studies. The -doctor gives years of time and study before he attempts to practice. -The merchant goes through a long apprenticeship before he commences -business for himself; but our young girls leave the school-room to -assume a <i>right</i> of which they know nothing,—the privilege and -honor of making a <i>home</i>. If women would only understand how much -skill and power is requisite, what a noble, honorable thing it is to -succeed, or become eminent as a <i>homemaker</i>, there would be fewer -boarding-houses, fewer miserable, dissipated husbands, fewer fast, -wild, reckless children, and fewer worthless servants.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXII">LXXII.<br> -A FEW LITTLE THINGS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>E take up now a few perplexities which are apt to disturb the -equanimity of the young housekeeper, and propose to give some minute -directions for the better performance of those “little things” which so -often discourage the beginner, such as the building of fires, dusting, -etc.</p> - -<p>With an open grate or fireplace in daily use, it is very necessary, -before any dusting can be thought of, to clear out the grate, remove -the ashes, and kindle the fire; for nothing so fills a room with -dust as the necessary work about a fire of any kind, even with the -most careful management. To be ready to do this, or in a condition -to instruct a girl how to do it, it is important that the necessary -implements and conveniences should be on hand, and in a suitable -condition for easy and successful operation.</p> - -<p>And, first, a coarse piece of bagging, or an old bit of carpeting, -or, if you have neither, a large piece of stout brown wrapping-paper, -should be kept in an appropriate place, ready for this part of the -morning’s work; even old newspapers will answer, though by no means so -convenient or durable as bagging. Spread a large strip before the grate -or fireplace to protect the oil-cloth or carpet from ashes and cinders -while you are clearing out the grates. This done, lift up the fender or -polished hearth-pan, always in front of a grate, and set it down on the -floor-cloth or bagging. Put up the blower, and with the poker rake out -all the ashes that can be shaken from the under part of the grate. By -keeping the blower up while doing this, most of the ashes which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</span> would -otherwise float over the room, lodge in the furniture or carpet, and -in the end do them much injury, will be made to fly up chimney. Having -thus removed all the ashes, you can take the blower down and rake again -smartly from the <i>top</i> until only the half-burnt coals remain.</p> - -<p>Now, with a stout, coarse holder kept expressly for that purpose, take -the ash-pan, full of ashes, from under the grate, and empty it in an -ash-barrel in the cellar, or outdoors; by no means empty them from -the pan into an empty coal-hod in the room, as is too often done. Be -careful that no live coals go into the barrel. You will be obliged to -watch a girl very carefully about this “little thing,” or, under the -silly idea that it saves work, most girls will do this so carelessly -when you are not by, that your rooms will be filled with ashes by their -folly.</p> - -<p>When the ashes have been emptied, if your grate rests on <i>cleats</i> -or is fitted into <i>sockets</i>, lift it off and turn into the -ash-pan the half-burned coals which remain, to be taken out and sifted -before using again; then, placing the grate on the bagging, with a -small whisk-broom proceed to brush down into the pan all the soot and -ashes that have lodged on the sides and back of the fireplace. Do -this gently, so as to avoid sending it out into the room. When done, -remove the pan, sweep up any ashes or litter that may be on the hearth, -wash it clean, and put back the grate and ash-pan into their proper -places. Set up the fender, roll up a quantity of waste paper and put -into the grate (if thrown in loosely it will burn out instantly before -the kindling catches), put on the kindling, and start the fire. If -where you can get <i>coke</i> from the gas-houses for the foundation -of the fire, it will, we think, prove good economy, for you will need -but two or three pieces of kindling, as it ignites readily without a -blower, making a very warm fire, and soon causing the hard coal to burn -brightly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</span></p> - -<p>Here, also, great watchfulness is requisite if you trust to a servant -to start fires, for, unless closely followed, they will persist in half -filling the grate with kindling, even when they are provided with coke, -and need to use but very little wood. In the city, where wood is so -dear, economy in kindling-wood becomes quite important.</p> - -<p>The fire having been kindled, the rooms can now be set in order. Of -course the window-blinds were opened the first thing after dressing in -the morning, that gas or lamps might not be left to burn needlessly. We -are tempted to stop, before dusting, and say a word on the extravagant -use of gas or oil by the servants about a house, but we must leave -that for another time, and proceed to finish the first part of every -morning’s work.</p> - -<p>In <i>dusting</i>, a soft but not too fine cloth should be first used. -At almost all dry-goods stores cloths are to be had with soft, tufted -nap, especially adapted for dusters; but an old towel may be kept for -that purpose, and answers very well if you cannot obtain these. Gently -wipe <i>up</i> with the dusting-cloth whatever ashes or dust may have -settled over the mantel or furniture, but do not wipe it <i>off</i> -on to the floor to settle again into the carpet or furniture in the -room,—that would be spending time for naught,—and as you proceed -take it up into the dust-cloth, and every little while shake it out of -the window or door. In this way go over everything <i>once</i>, that -the greatest part of the dust may be disposed of, being particular to -wipe in and around moldings, carvings, and cornices, where dust seems -more inclined to rest than on the plainer surfaces. This finished, go -over all again with an old silk handkerchief or chamois-skin, rubbing -hard enough to remove spots or finger-marks, and bring a nice clean -polish on the furniture or ornaments in the room. If you have pictures -hung round the walls, a long-handled feather-brush is quite necessary, -especially if the room is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</span> high studded, as city rooms generally are at -the present day. You cannot spare the time every morning to bring in -a step-ladder in order to dust the tops of the picture-frames or the -casings and moldings over and around doors and windows; but if left -some days untouched, the moths will soon find it out and take up their -abode in such desirable quarters. The long feather-brush will easily -remove most of the light dirt that settles in such high places, but -do not use it with a sharp, quick flourish, as whatever dust lodges -so high cannot be taken <i>up</i> with the coarse dusting-cloth, and -must, of course, if disturbed, fall to the floor, but if brushed off -rashly, will fly over everything. For this reason the tops of pictures -and doors should be dusted first, that there may be an opportunity to -remove whatever settles unavoidably when going over other parts of the -room.</p> - -<p>Every three or four weeks the tall step-ladder is needed, and then all -these places which cannot be reached otherwise must be well cleaned and -rubbed, and the casings of windows and doors wiped clean with a wet -cloth. This work, when done, must always be <i>after</i> the regular -sweeping-days.</p> - -<p>Windows require attention every day; we do not mean, to be washed -every day, but to be dusted and have the spots carefully rubbed off. -The dust from the streets finds easy entrance, and settles readily -on the window-panes, which would soon become dim and blurred without -daily oversight. Especially is this the case in damp weather, or -when one lives near salt air. Brush each window with a short-handed -feather-brush, if you have one; if not, save and dry turkeys’ wings, -or the long tail-feathers from any poultry, tie them up neatly, and -you secure an inexpensive feather-brush, and as effective as if bought -at the store. If you find spots or finger-marks on the window-glass, -put your mouth to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</span> spot and breathe sharply on it; then, before -your breath evaporates, rub quickly with a clean linen cloth or a -chamois-skin, and you will be well repaid for your labor.</p> - -<p>It requires some time and many words to explain, as minutely as you -wish, how all these <i>little things</i> should be done; but if you are -methodical, you will soon learn to work quickly as well as thoroughly, -and will be very much surprised to see how short a time is needed to -do all that we have been so long telling. You will use less time, take -the month through, by careful dusting and necessary cleaning each day -than—neglecting this duty—you would be compelled to give every few -weeks in one great cleaning effort, by which the whole family must be -incommoded, meals delayed, poorly cooked, or dispensed with altogether -for the time being, because it is “cleaning day.” No wonder husbands -shrink from such days, preferring dirty rooms all the time to having -clean ones, for which they pay such unsatisfactory premiums. A little -quiet care and cleaning every day will, we think, secure the largest -amount of freedom, and certainly much more pleasure and happiness for -all, than these dreaded days of confusion and discomfort.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXIII">LXXIII.<br> -PLANNING FOR THE WEEK.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">N</span>OTHING so simplifies labor as a well-defined, regular plan for each -day’s specific duties. At first, to one unaccustomed to systematic -work, it may be difficult to get into the track, and follow the route -until it is so familiar that it becomes almost second nature. But -with each effort, duties thus methodically performed will be easier, -and when the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</span> plan you design to follow has been well digested, and -each part so adapted as to reach toward the good of the whole, labor -will not only be greatly diminished, but a positive pleasure in the -performance of duties so perfectly organized will be the crowning -reward.</p> - -<p>Yet to arrange a plan for each day requires thought and judgment, -and she must be a wonderful character who, from the beginning, can -so perfect a code of laws for the regular discharge of household -labor, that no modification or change will be necessary. If a young -housekeeper, at the end of one year’s trial, begins to feel somewhat at -home in her dominions, she should be well content, nor allow a shadow -of discouragement to mar her comfort, even if now and then she finds -her carefully planned rules requiring some little adjustment, to secure -a smooth and easy action. <i>Try</i>, and <i>reject</i>, until you -have secured a plan by which <i>you</i>, the mistress, can best manage -others, or yourself perform the work. No one can tell you by what rules -you can best govern your domains. Suggestions may be given, which will -be of great service in enabling you to arrive at the desired results -in the most successful and expeditious manner; but further than that, -<i>the work to do is yours, and not another’s</i>. Each one must work -out the problem of what is best for herself individually, with what aid -she can glean from the experience of others, according as it shall be -congenial, or adapted to her own peculiar way of working and her own -peculiar position.</p> - -<p>Even those daughters who are fresh from the wise instructions of a -mother, who led them with her through a daily round of cares until they -are as skillful in domestic management as she is herself, will not -find, when they enter the marriage state, the duties of their new homes -exactly like those of their mother. Many things may, and doubtless -will, compel a somewhat different administration, although<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</span> the -fundamental principles will be still the same. The husband’s position -may demand change in the mode of proceedings to which she has, from -childhood, been accustomed. His tastes or means may render it advisable -that the wife should modify or enlarge her rules for the performance -of domestic duties. The desired change may, from necessity, or from -<i>whims</i>, which for permanent happiness she will be wise to humor, -be so abrupt and entire as to require almost a new mode of action -and labor, calling for much deliberation before it can be perfectly -satisfactory; and of course this will be almost like commencing an -education from the beginning.</p> - -<p>Different homes and diverse tastes demand, and justly, to be regulated -on somewhat different plans. New duties, and new modes of performing -them, are opened to the young housekeeper, however efficient she may -have been in all domestic affairs under her mother’s eye; but this -should be no reason for discouragement or self-reproach. Put the mother -in the daughter’s place, and she might find it equally strange, and no -easier to rearrange her code of laws for domestic labor, only so far -as age and longer experience has taught her more wisdom and greater -facility in regulating household affairs. But whatever the style or -position, there is none, however high or low, that is not improved and -the work simplified by systematic arrangement. Let each day of the week -have its own peculiar work, modified or varied, of course, by changes -which cannot be foreseen,—such as sickness, absence of part of the -family, unexpected company, invited guests, or holidays.</p> - -<p>And here let us say, it is desirable, when you invite friends to dinner -or tea, that you choose such days as are the least filled with work -which cannot be well set aside,—such as washing, ironing, etc.,—so -that you may take time for entertaining your guests, without the burden -of feeling that you are compelled to leave for to-morrow the work that -should<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</span> have been done to-day, and, by so doing, to lay up for yourself -too heavy burdens and unsettle the regular course of labor for the rest -of the week.</p> - -<p>We do not propose to give rules for any one. That would be quite -impossible, as so much depends on the taste of the master and mistress, -the number of the family, and of the servants employed. But there are -a few things which, in our opinion, will make the work easier, and -increase the comfort of all concerned. For instance, on Saturday all -the clothes for changes should be laid out, so that the Sabbath may -find us arrayed in spotless garments. And this being done, as all -the soiled clothes are ready, it would seem that Monday must, almost -of necessity, be set apart as the established <i>washing-day</i>. Of -course, if one has a laundry distinct from the kitchen, as soon as the -washing and ironing of one week is finished, the range will be cleaned -out, ashes brushed off, kindling laid, and floor scrubbed, all for the -next week; and if everything is thus in order, it must be an uncommonly -large family if the washing is not all done, clothes-lines and pins -brought in, and, in winter, coarse clothes sprinkled and folded, in -good time on Monday night. This should be Monday’s work, somewhat -modified, perhaps, according to the help employed in this department. -When two or three girls are employed in one house, as we have before -said, we do not think it the most comfortable way for the <i>cook</i> -to take charge of the washing. Let her help, if necessary, as she may -find time; but if she first performs her regular duties, the family -will be more comfortable; and if the second girl has charge of the -washing, the clothes will, or should be, more satisfactorily done by -one steady hand. Let Tuesday be for ironing. Wednesday the chambermaid -and laundress will need for cleaning the laundry and halls, wiping -off finger-marks from doors, and any chamber-work which did not -receive particular attention Monday or Tuesday. The cook will need by -Wednesday<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</span> to clean up her tins, floors, closets, or if company or the -family require, to do some extra cooking. On Thursday the silver should -be carefully looked over and polished by chamois-skin, after washing -in <i>hot</i> soapsuds, or with whiting if any brown spots are found. -Friday is the best day for sweeping, and seeing that mattresses and -bedsteads are free from dust; which, if left to accumulate, will breed -moths and other vermin. Saturday may be employed in cleaning parlors, -washing windows, polishing door-handles, bell-pulls, and stair-rods, -and a thorough oversight of the house generally.</p> - -<p>These items are only by way of suggestions, to be filled up or -discarded as the housekeeper’s judgment, taste, or position may deem -advisable. We only claim that, having once examined and become fully -persuaded in your own mind what your position and the comfort of your -family demand, you should settle upon some well-considered plan, -and then determine to carry it into practice, as far as possible, -with promptness and regularity. Take time to consider; <i>try, and -try again</i>; but having settled what is best, act upon it without -flinching.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXIV">LXXIV.<br> -SHOPPING.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>E have heard from ladies remarks like the following: “Before I was -married, and cares and responsibilities became more and more exacting -every year, there was nothing I used to enjoy more than roaming from -shop to shop, seeing everything that was to be seen, but without the -responsibility of purchasing, because my mother always attended to -that. My shopping in those days was only to gratify curiosity. But -now it must be done in earnest, without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</span> shopping for sight-seeing or -loitering,—the only desirable part of the business.”</p> - -<p>Now, I cannot but think this waste of time and gratification of a -childish curiosity in young women altogether wrong. The amount of -“shopping,” as it is called, done from no necessity, but only to while -away the time, is very great, particularly by young ladies who have -no intention of purchasing. While there are books to be read, sewing -to be done, mothers to be helped, and their burdens lightened by -their daughters’ loving care, and painting, drawing, and music to be -practiced, we don’t understand how time can hang heavy on one’s hands. -Pleasant walks and rides, lectures, concerts, and picture-galleries, -can surely furnish all the exercise and recreation that is needed or at -all desirable, and will be much more conducive to the improvement of -the mind and strengthening of the body than this too prevalent custom -of sauntering through the streets, gazing into the windows, or visiting -the stores, looking at and handling everything one fancies, but buying -nothing. Many evils spring from this absurd method of <i>taking -exercise</i>, or wasting time. There can be no healthy exercise in -loitering in a crowded and perhaps ill-lighted, poorly ventilated -store; for capacious, airy, and well-ventilated establishments are not -common. The effect of such dissipation on the mind and character cannot -be ennobling. To watch and criticise the people who pass, to remark on -their dress, manners, and peculiarities, is almost certain to establish -an unkind, censorious habit, and, in the end, make those who practice -it confirmed gossips,—the most unlovable and unsafe of all characters. -A love of dress; a desire to imitate or surpass those who are the most -extravagant in their outlays; an envious disposition; dissatisfaction -with their own condition and the income allowed for their dress; -longing to cast aside good clothes and secure the newest and most -stylish, every time the shopping farce is performed,—are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</span> some of the -evils which, it is to be feared, will grow out of this propensity; -and added to this, another still more to be deprecated,—the selfish -disregard for the feelings and interests of others.</p> - -<p>It is painful to observe with what recklessness our young ladies will -sit at a counter and call for one piece of goods after another, until -the shelves before them are almost entirely stripped,—tossing one -article here and another there, throwing heavy goods upon delicate -articles, while the perplexed clerk endeavors to hide his anxiety, and -shield his wares from harm, in the most gentlemanly and unobtrusive -manner; but his politeness and delicacy are wasted, for this class of -shoppers care little for the discomfort of a clerk.</p> - -<p>In this manner they flit from counter to counter, wasting not only -their own time, but that of the employés in the store, and exciting -false hopes of a good sale, and then, without a word of apology for the -trouble they have given, leave that store to go through the same folly -at other establishments.</p> - -<p>A few days since we witnessed a most provoking display of this manner -of wasting time, and by no means an uncommon occurrence. All the room -for some distance on one side of the store, and two or three of the -clerks, were monopolized by a party of young girls,—we fear they -thought themselves entitled to be addressed as <i>young ladies</i>. -The earnestness with which they called for one class of goods after -another warranted the attendants in anticipating a large sale; but when -woolens, silks, linens, ribbons, and laces were heaped around them in -great abundance, and many really earnest purchasers had been kept long -waiting for attendance, or, not having time, had been obliged to go -elsewhere, these girls carelessly rose and turned to leave.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry we can show you nothing satisfactory,” courteously remarked -one of the clerks.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</span></p> - -<p>“O, we didn’t come in to buy,—only to look around,” replied the -leader of this ill-mannered party, with a scornful air; and an absurd, -silly giggle went through the party as they left the store, evidently -satisfied that they had had a good time and played off a smart joke on -the clerks.</p> - -<p>The expression of disappointment suddenly changed to contempt, visible -among the young men who had so politely waited upon those thoughtless -girls, was very significant of their estimate of such characters. If -their mothers could have seen the whole performance, and, giving each a -<i>good shaking</i>, sent them home to learn good manners, and a proper -use of time by a term of labor in the kitchen, we should have been -thankful.</p> - -<p>But in the case of the “mother and housekeeper,” who inquires how -real, earnest, practical shopping may be disarmed of its terrors, and -made easy and simple, we would say there is nothing easier if you -begin right. Before leaving home on a shopping expedition, be “fully -persuaded in your own mind” that you know just what you want, what -you must have, and how much you are willing and can afford to pay -for what you desire to purchase. Make out a plain list that you can -understand at a glance, and when you enter the store call first for -the <i>must-haves</i>, examine the quality and pattern, and ascertain -if the price is such as to justify you in buying. Then, if satisfied -on those points, look at various patterns of the same fabric and -price, and select the one that pleases you the most perfectly, and, -naming the quantity and place to send, pass on to other departments. -Don’t allow your attention to wander to anything but the article -under consideration, until you have decided that item. If it is a -dress, examine and decide before looking at sheeting or table linen or -anything else. That settled, pass on to the next topic on your list, -and so continue until you have finished the work you had arranged to -do. Then, if you have a little leisure,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</span> you can look about you at the -various articles displayed, gratifying your love of fine things, and -gaining an insight into the quality and price of articles you may need -in time; only take care that when your purchases are finished, you do -not interfere with other purchasers, or engross the time of busy clerks -unduly. In making out a list, classify the articles you are intending -to buy, putting groceries, crockery, books, dry goods, etc., each by -themselves, and begin at the nearest place. By this method you will -save yourself much time and fatigue.</p> - -<p>These are very simple rules; but try them and see if shopping is any -longer a duty to be “dreaded.”</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXV">LXXV.<br> -DUSTING.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="close"><span class="dropcap">A</span>MONG </span>the many little things a good housekeeper should vigilantly -watch over, while trying to teach a child or inexperienced girl, -careful and thorough <i>dusting</i> is one of the most prominent. It -is not alone those who are confessedly ignorant that require this -supervision, but one half of all the hired help we ever saw have never -been trained to do that kind of labor perfectly. They are accustomed -to look at it as being of less importance, and more easily slighted -without attracting notice and subjecting themselves to rebuke, than -other portion of their duties. They may be very capable in many other -parts of the work allotted to them, yet lamentably fail when they -undertake to dust a room. A parlor- or chambermaid may begin her -work properly. With broom, whisk, duster, and dust-pan, with short -sleeves, a clean handkerchief or cap over the head to protect the -hair<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</span> from dust, she commences to clean and “put the room to rights” -in the most approved manner. Books, papers, works of art, ornaments, -or furniture—everything movable—are carried into the next room -if convenient, or if not, neatly covered from the dust, which must -necessarily be raised while sweeping; thus leaving the floor as nearly -vacant as possible, to facilitate that operation.</p> - -<p>But, if superintending this work done by a new girl, you will notice -that, however methodical in all else pertaining to her work, she does -not stop to clean, carefully dust, and polish each article, as she -takes it from the room, and by so doing have them all ready to set back -again, with no delay, when the room is well swept and dusted. She seems -to have no idea that this will simplify her work, save time and extra -handling, and, as often happens, in case of any necessity for unusual -haste in finishing the work, be a great convenience. But, seeing how -like a good worker the girl takes hold of the other portions of her -labor, you perhaps think it not best to embarrass her by too many -criticisms at first, having no fear but at the close of the sweeping -the dusting will be well done; called away by other duties, you leave -her to finish, on the whole well pleased, and hopeful that you have -secured one who will prove faithful and reliable, relieving you from -constant watchfulness in her department.</p> - -<p>On your return, the first glance at the room confirms your hopes, but -by a second look your dream of peace grows shadowy. The room is nicely -swept, the furniture placed more nearly in the proper position than, -for a first trial, you had expected; but there the charm vanishes. -Such dusting! It must have been attempted; for you see the mark of -the dusting-cloth, as if hastily passed over, or brushed across the -plain surfaces of tables, chairs, etc., but looking more as if flies -or spiders had run races over them, than like the efforts of a human -hand to dust the room. Here and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</span> there some one or two articles have -been tolerably polished, but wherever there is any elaborate carving, -intricate molding, or dainty piece of statuary, requiring extra care, -the dust has settled, and lies unmolested in ugly masses, defacing or -concealing all the beauty.</p> - -<p>You summon the girl, trying all the time to school your heart and -voice to patience. You show her the dust, and, taking the work into -your own hands, proceed to give her practical demonstration of how the -work can and must be done. As you pass from one article to another, -you explain the injury to furniture and ornaments which will follow -careless dusting. Point out how speedily dust hides in the moldings -and carvings, and show her how to gain access to all the intricate -and troublesome ornamental work. As you proceed she sees how easily -and perfectly it can be done; but do not flatter yourself that this -lesson, so thoroughly and plainly given, will relieve you from the -responsibility of following up your chambermaid with continued -watchfulness and reminders. Be prepared to repeat this lesson every -week, and at the end of months find the repetition still necessary. If -you do not find this so, you may thank God and take courage, for you -have secured a treasure which you will do well to cherish.</p> - -<p>It is because our servants are so inclined to slight this seemingly -small, but really very important part of domestic economy, that we -think mothers should begin early to teach their little daughters how -to dust a room, and polish, by thorough dusting, all the furniture and -articles of beauty. Let them take first lessons in learning to keep -their play-room and playthings free from dust, and the knowledge thus -gained in play will soon be of much practical and valuable assistance -to their mothers. We know there are some children naturally careless -and flighty, while others are born neat and methodical. This difference -is very observable in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</span> children of the same family, trained by the -same mother, with equal care; and mothers soon understand that one -child must be looked after, in every step of her way toward becoming -a practical, useful, helpful daughter and woman, more than the other. -Such children draw very heavily on their mother’s strength, patience, -and hopefulness; but if the child is of an affectionate disposition, in -the end love and experience will conquer.</p> - -<p>There is great need that mothers be not discouraged in their endeavors -to teach their daughters all that pertains to practical domestic -economy; for, if we are not greatly mistaken, the time is not far -off when we shall all feel the necessity of looking to our daughters -to assist us in the nicer parts of housework, if we would have -comfortable, happy homes; relying on servants only for the coarser, -harder parts that would tax our strength too severely, or engross -our time too much, to leave any for social life or intellectual -improvement. These must receive their full share of our attention; but -the home cares have equal claims. Let there be an equal distribution, -giving to each her portion in due season, and there will be less waste -and extravagance, and lighter hearts and happier homes.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXVI">LXXVI.<br> -A CHAPTER ON SOUPS.</h2> - -</div> -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">H</span>ESITATION in taking the first steps in any new enterprise or new work -is very common. With some it springs from great caution; with others, -from lack of confidence in their own ability. They magnify troubles -which may arise, and imagine all manner of difficulties, until very<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</span> -small and easy duties are clothed in a mystery which they shrink from -solving.</p> - -<p>In working, a novice, if at all timid or lacking self-reliance, often -keeps herself in a constant state of alarm lest she make some great -mistake, and, strange as it may seem, few things in the whole round of -cooking-experiments assume a more formidable aspect than the simple act -of making a soup. It is a mystery which grows more <i>uncanny</i> the -longer it is looked at from a distance; but lay your hand upon it, and -you will soon learn that you have been frightened at a shadow.</p> - -<p>There are several things preliminary to making soup which are quite -essential. First of all, it is desirable, though not absolutely -indispensable, that you provide yourself with the best and most -convenient utensils.</p> - -<p>A <i>stock-pot</i> is usually a large, round kettle, with a closely -fitting cover, into which the meat or bones and odd bits for preparing -the stock or broth for soups are put, to be cooked. It is generally -made of iron or copper.</p> - -<p>A <i>soup-digester</i> is a kind of stock-pot made wholly of iron. -The lid fits closely into a groove in the top of the digester, with -a projecting piece which, when turned till it meets the socket or -notch on each side of the groove, acts like a lock, holding the lid -on tightly. In that respect it is far better than the stock-pot, for -nothing can boil over in the digester, and no steam escapes except -through the <i>valve</i> at the top of the cover. They are to be -obtained at almost all hardware stores, and are of all sizes, from -three quarts to ten gallons.</p> - -<p>Next, having provided the utensils, good “stock” of various kinds -should be kept constantly on hand, regulating the quantity prepared -at one time by the state of the weather and the size of your family. -In summer, in a cool cellar, it will keep, by frequent scalding, -several days. In<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</span> winter it is safe to keep it much longer, only, like -everything else, it requires to be looked after carefully. Few soups -can be of the best quality without a strong <i>stock</i> to start with. -<i>Liebig’s Extracts of Meat</i> answers very well for a substitute, -but is better used in connection with the stock.</p> - -<p>Every bit of meat which is left over, that cannot be satisfactorily -employed otherwise, should go at once into the <i>stock-pot</i> or -<i>digester</i>. Bones, after carving from them all the meat that can -be advantageously secured, must be well cracked and added to the other -pieces. The vessel should be always near, ready to receive any stray -morsel. When enough is collected to make a good quantity of stock, put -cold water to the pieces; for the juices, which are what you desire to -obtain, are much more readily extracted in cold water than in hot. On -the contrary, meats that are to be boiled for table use should always -be put into <i>boiling</i> water, which closes the outer surfaces -instantly, thus retaining the juices.</p> - -<p>When the water is added, set the digester over a moderate fire, where -the contents will not boil rapidly, only simmer. After it begins to -boil, add salt and pepper. Opinions differ as to the length of time -needed in the preparation of good stock; but it is generally allowed -to simmer most of the day, which is too long, and it thereby becomes -muddy. We think a few hours’ boiling will extract all the juice, and -make better stock than longer. Remember that stock should have more -salt, pepper, and seasoning than would be desirable in the soup to be -made from it.</p> - -<p>When done, strain it into a large stone pot, kept for that purpose -exclusively, and cover closely till morning, when the fat will all rise -to the top and harden, and should then be removed. Never allow stock to -remain in the stock-pot or digester overnight; for, even when there is -no copper to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</span> render it unsafe, it will assuredly taste of the iron, -and the flavor be very greatly injured by it.</p> - -<p>If you have no bones or bits of meat on hand to make stock with, a -knuckle of beef or veal can be procured with little expense; or, if -a rich soup is desired, several kinds of meat should be mixed. For -instance: Take four pounds of the shin of beef, four pounds of the -knuckle of veal, and a half-pound of good lean ham—any scraps of -poultry, necks, wings, etc.—that may chance to be unused. Three -onions, three carrots, one head of celery, a few chopped mushrooms, -two or three fresh tomatoes, or what would be equal to them in canned -tomatoes, if they can be obtained; just a shake of savory herbs and -parsley, and, in cold weather, three turnips. In warm weather turnips -will cause the stock to ferment. Add an ounce and a half of salt, one -table-spoonful of sugar, twelve white peppercorns, six cloves, three -small bits of mace, and four quarts of water. Line the nicely cleaned -digester, after well buttering it, with the ham cut in thin, broad -slices carefully trimmed from all the outer fat that may taste too -strong of the smoke, or which is at all rusty. Then cut all the meat -from the beef and veal into about three-inch pieces, and lay them over -the ham. Set it on the stove, and when all is delicately and equally -browned, put in the beef and veal bones, well cracked, the bits of -poultry-trimmings, and pour over all four quarts of <i>cold</i> water. -When it comes to the boiling point, bring to the side of the stove or -range, skim very carefully, adding now and then a little cold water, to -stop rapid boiling. Let it simmer in this way till it is quite clear, -and then put in all the vegetables and other ingredients, and keep it -simmering over the stove five hours. Do not let it at any time come to -a brisk boil, as that will waste the stock and injure the color.</p> - -<p>When done, strain through a fine hair-sieve or cloth into a large stone -<i>stock-jar</i>, and cover up carefully till needed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</span></p> - -<p>Prepared in this way, a stock will keep in cool weather a long time, -if kept covered closely from the air, by occasionally scalding, and -is always on hand when you wish a rich soup. While it is cooking, in -adding water to stop boiling, be sure that you add enough to supply -that wasted in steam, so that when done and strained you will have four -quarts of liquid. One quart will be sufficient for the stock for four -rich soups.</p> - -<p>A less rich stock may be obtained by using less meat and seasoning, or -by carefully saving the water in which fresh meat or fowls have been -boiled, adding vegetables and seasoning to suit yourself. Let it simmer -gently for six hours, skimming it carefully, and then strain and set -aside for use.</p> - -<p><i>White stock</i>, for white soup, is made like the rich stock; only, -instead of browning the meat before adding any water, you should rub -the digester with butter, lay in the meat, moisten with half a pint -of water, and simmer slowly, until the gravy begins to flow; then add -five quarts of cold water and such vegetables and seasoning as you -prefer, or the same as for rich stock, and let all simmer five hours. -When stronger stock is required, double the quantity of veal, or put -in an old fowl. The liquor in which a young turkey has been boiled is -excellent for white stocks or soups.</p> - -<p><i>Browning</i> for soups is made with two ounces of powdered sugar and -half a pint of water. Put the sugar in a smooth, clean saucepan over -a slow fire till it begins to melt; keep it in motion with a wooden -spoon all the time until it becomes black, when the water should be -added. Let it dissolve in the water, then cork closely, and use only a -few drops when required. In France an onion is burnt to put with the -browning; but all browning, although it adds somewhat to the looks of -some kinds of soups, does not often improve the flavor.</p> - -<p>To <i>clarify</i> stocks or soups which are sometimes a little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</span> muddy, -carefully separate the whites of eggs from the yelks, and use the -whites to clear the soup. One egg to every quart of stock or soup to -be clarified. Beat well together, with one fourth of a pint of water -to every egg, and, still beating, add gradually to the stock, which -should be just warm. Then place it over the fire, and when it boils -skim thoroughly, whisk it well, and draw the kettle to the side of the -stove, to let it settle till the whites of the eggs become separated -from the soup; then strain through a fine cloth, and, if rightly done, -the stock or soup will be clear.</p> - -<p>Thus, as will be readily understood, we have given most important -preliminary steps toward making soup. In the next article we give -directions for making several kinds of soups, and thereby answer -several requests in one chapter.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXVII">LXXVII.<br> -MORE ABOUT SOUPS.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">M</span>ANY suppose they can obtain just as good soup by preparing the whole -between breakfast and dinner, claiming that the idea of keeping “stock” -on hand is a foolish one, and an increase of the cares and labors of -providing. We think this is a mistake, springing from ignorance in some -cases, in others from the fact that the objectors have never tried what -seems to us the better way. It is certainly the most economical, and on -trial we are sure will be found a saving of time and labor, instead of -an additional tax.</p> - -<p>By allowing the material for stock to simmer slowly, one obtains the -foundation for the strongest and best flavored soup which can be made -from flesh. Whereas, if the meat is taken in the morning, and prepared -for dinner the same<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</span> day, one must hasten matters, and cannot take time -to separate the meat in small pieces, or have a soup free from muddy -streaks and a strong, disagreeable flavor.</p> - -<p>Liebig objects to cooking the stock for any great length of time, -because he assumes, and justly, that the albumen and fibrin which, -after protracted cooking, will rise hard and bony, cannot be so -thoroughly separated as not to leave some disagreeable flavor, and take -away much of the real nutriment of the soup. He says if we take one -pound of beef free from fat, and separate it from the bones finely, as -for mince-meat or sausages; then mix it uniformly in its own weight of -cold water, heat it slowly to a boiling point, and allow the liquid -to boil briskly for only a few minutes; then strain through a towel -to free it from the coagulated albumen and fibrin which will be mixed -with it, we can, by this short boiling, secure an equal weight of the -most aromatic soup or beef-tea, of such strength as cannot be obtained, -even by boiling for hours, from a solid piece of flesh. Youmans says, -by long boiling the rich part of the meat extracted by the cold water -coagulates and becomes insoluble, instead of remaining dissolved in the -soup, as it should do, in order to secure the most highly nutritious -substance of the meat. A piece of flesh put into boiling water -<i>undivided</i> is in the most unfavorable condition possible for -making good soup. It is customary to protract the boiling, because it -is supposed to thicken and enrich the soup.</p> - -<p>We have no doubt, if the mistress could oversee the whole process, that -a better soup would be obtained by less than the four or five hours’ -cooking which we recommended in our last article for stock. But if she -is obliged to commit the preparing of stock or soups to willing but -careless hands, who half the time do not cut the meat up fine or crack -the bones, a longer time is necessary to extract the full flavor, which -will not then be as pure.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</span></p> - -<p>What are called <i>clear soups</i> should be of a light straw color, -and not too strongly flavored with the meat.</p> - -<p><i>White</i> or <i>thick soups</i> must only be thick enough to adhere -slightly to the spoon when hot.</p> - -<p><i>Purée</i> consists of vegetables or meat reduced to a very smooth -pulp, and then mixed with enough stock to make a thick soup like most -of the bean or pea soups.</p> - -<p>One of the most generally palatable soups is the <i>turtle</i> or -<i>black bean soup</i>, with rich beef stock for the foundation.</p> - -<p>Soak a pint and a half of the beans overnight in plenty of lukewarm -water. In the morning drain off all the water and cover with fresh -cold water; see that your soup-digester is perfectly cleaned, and -three quarts of beef stock put in it, then set it over the fire. (Of -course you never allow your digester or soup-pot to be put away without -being thoroughly cleaned; but <i>sometimes</i> girls have been known -to forget or make a mistake; and it is best for many reasons that all -utensils should be examined thoroughly, rinsed with hot water, and -wiped dry each time you take them out for use, if only to remove what -dust may settle on them while in the closet.)</p> - -<p>As soon as your kettle is in order and the stock in it, drain off the -water from the beans; put them into the stock and set at once over the -fire where it will come to a boil slowly. As soon as that takes place, -set it a little one side, and it will simmer, not <i>quite</i> boil, -till time for dinner. It will take some four or five hours to make the -beans perfectly tender. Half an hour before straining, add a teacupful -of tomato catsup and half a pint of canned tomatoes or six fresh ones. -Let it cook a little more briskly for a half-hour, then rub through a -coarse sieve or colander, and serve hot. In preparing stock for this -soup, the savory herbs and mushrooms may be omitted, also the tomatoes, -as it is better to add them just before the beans are done, and strain -all together.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</span> Some like to squeeze a few drops of lemon-juice into -soup when in their plates, and it is well to have a quarter of a lemon -put on a small saucer or cup-plate by every one at the table, so that -they can add it if agreeable.</p> - -<p>An excellent <i>beef soup</i> can be made from the bones left from -a roast. Cut the bones apart, and crack them to pieces with a broad -hatchet kept for that purpose only, as the good husband may object -to having his carefully kept hatchet used by “women folks,” and -<i>you</i> may be equally unwilling to take articles that have been -used you know not for what. Cover the bones with cold water, and set -on the range where they will simmer, <i>not boil</i>, between three -and four hours. When the meat is so tender as to slip easily from -the bones, scrape it all off and set it aside; put the stock thus -made in a stone pot and cover closely, after it is cold. We should -have said in former directions that stock must not be covered up till -cold, then closed carefully. The next day remove every particle of -the fat; warm the stock enough to strain it; cut up one onion (if you -and your family like them), two or three potatoes, one turnip, a few -bits of cauliflower or cabbage, if desired, and two carrots. Put these -in the stock, adding, if you like, a half-pint of rich stock; add -pepper and salt to your liking, half a teacupful of tomato catsup, a -table-spoonful of rice washed clean, or “star” macaroni. Boil one hour, -and dish without a second straining. Of course all these seasonings and -vegetables must be varied or modified to suit the special tastes of -different families.</p> - -<p>The meat cut from the bone may be made into nice “force-meat balls,” -and put into the soup when dished for the table. To make these balls, -rub the meat smooth in a marble mortar. If very dry, moisten with a -spoonful of rich stock. When smooth, season with salt, pepper, a little -thyme, summer savory, and green parsley chopped fine.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</span> Beat one egg -light and stir in, thickening the whole with cracker crumbs, enough to -roll into small balls the size of a large walnut, and fry in boiling -lard, or place on a dish and bake a clear, even brown, and put into the -soup the last thing before sending to the table.</p> - -<p><i>Julienne soup</i> is among those most used at hotels and -eating-houses. Put half a spoonful of butter into the soup-kettle; -slice in two onions, and fry to a clear brown, taking care not to -scorch them; then add three quarts of good stock, two small turnips -and two carrots chopped small. Let this boil gently one hour, and then -add a pint of green peas, freshly gathered, and the same of young -and tender string-beans, a little mace, salt and pepper as needed, -and a single stock of celery chopped fine. Too much celery gives a -bitter taste to soup. Boil two hours more; then rub a table-spoonful -of butter, with the same amount of flour, and stir gradually into the -soup. Boil a few minutes and dish.</p> - -<p>A good <i>vermicelli</i> soup with stock made from a shin of veal, -boiled in three quarts of water, can be prepared with little trouble. -The stock must be skimmed carefully, and, this done, put in one whole -turnip, one carrot, and one onion; none of these should be cut up. Boil -three hours; add salt and pepper to taste, and a quarter of a pound -of vermicelli after the three hours’ boiling, and let it boil gently -one hour more, then take out the bone and vegetables and serve. If the -stock boils away too much, add a little water.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXVIII">LXXVIII.<br> -TESTING CHARACTER.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">N</span>OTHING so completely unmasks all the peculiarities of each individual, -showing bright and noble traits most clearly, and casting deeper -shadows on all that is weak, disagreeable, and unlovely, as being shut -up in a steamer or in cars for days together, acquiring an intimacy -in one week far more familiar than would have been formed in a year -of ordinary intercourse. Nowhere are selfishness, irritability, and -vanity so quickly detected; nowhere are such opportunities to manifest -patience, self-abnegation, and all sweet and gentle qualities, in the -most forcible and attractive manner, as in this phase of social life. -You may call daily, or spend weeks with people in their own homes, -and never imagine that fierce ambition, weak and silly vanity, petty -jealousy, or a harsh and bitter temper are smoldering where all appears -so cheerful and quiet, ready to be fanned into flames by the first -annoyance beyond their power to repel. While no shadows fall or clouds -obscure their sky, how pleasantly the moments pass by! Smiles and -gentleness meet you at every step. To secure your comfort and pleasure -is their delight; to dispense the hospitality of their homes gracefully -and with a free hand does them honor; to neglect to do so would detract -from the dignity of their social position, and be disgraceful. Every -attention and courtesy paid to a guest reflects honor on the host, and -few are so perfect that these considerations do not have some weight. -This may be assumed without at all detracting from higher motives.</p> - -<p>But become companions on a journey with those who, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</span> host and -hostess, have been so attractive, and the most astonishing changes, for -which you are entirely unprepared, utterly foreign to your estimate -of their character, may meet you in every word and act. Take care, -however, while watching the <i>mote</i> in your neighbor’s eye, that he -does not discover the <i>beam</i> in your own. In the infelicities of -traveling, remember you are liable to the same criticism, and watch and -pray lest your own conscience compels you to acknowledge the justice of -the censure.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, you will often see persons so quiet and gentle at -home, that while you respect, you never think of them as presenting any -very striking characteristics. Sensible and unobtrusive, the goodness, -unseen, carries comfort to all around, while the recipients seldom -recognize the cause of the good influence which surrounds them, until -some startling commotion proclaims their silent ministration. The -freedom born from a common annoyance, discomfort, or danger, such as is -often experienced in traveling, sometimes reveals heroes and heroines -where we least expected to find them.</p> - -<p>One may read some strange chapters in character if he quietly watch -a crowd rushing on board a car or steamer, eager to secure the best -position, where most can be seen with the greatest comfort. The -rudeness and selfishness of each movement and act would be unpardonable -in their own homes. If you are careful to be on board early, before the -“rush” begins, it is certainly permissible to secure the best seat you -can, but with the reservation that old age, feebleness, and infancy -have a claim on all, which, if need be, should lead you willingly to -relinquish the position, however desirable, if by so doing you can add -to the comfort of any who come to you with these vouchers for their -right to your assistance and sympathy. Unfortunately, we often see this -gentle consideration for age and feebleness disregarded;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</span> but when -it shines forth how beautiful it is! How it covers little faults and -foibles, which, but for such unexpected manifestations, would have much -power to vex and distress!</p> - -<p>An elderly lady in feeble health took her seat in the cars, homeward -bound after a long absence. Being a cold, rainy day, it was especially -desirable to avoid all draughts from open windows. A party of young -people in high spirits seated themselves in front, and at once opened -the window. The wind, sleet, and rain rushed in, making all around -uncomfortable. Several remonstrated, but with no satisfactory results. -Even the indulgent father gently insinuated that they might themselves -suffer from such exposure, but not a word was spoken of the risk to -others. Every other seat being occupied, the invalid could make no -change; and feeling that all the health gained by her absence from home -might be lost through this severe exposure, with much reluctance she -mildly requested that the window nearest her might be closed. The favor -was rudely refused.</p> - -<p>These young people were evidently persons of wealth, on their way to -travel some time in Europe. From such examples, what impressions must -the people of the “old country” form of the characters and manners of -the new? The lady, probably reflecting gravely on the habits of the -young of the present day, sighed for the time when age was honored and -the young taught to reverence gray hairs.</p> - -<p>Time flew by, and again the invalid sought health far from home. The -boat was crowded with the young and gay. No wonder she remembered -the scene on the cars with sad forebodings, the sadder because on a -voyage one is liable to more discomforts than when traveling by land, -and probably was prepared to be perfectly isolated, asking for and -expecting nothing. The passage was disagreeable in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</span> extreme, and -all more or less seasick. Of course, under such circumstances, it -would not have been surprising if each was disposed to think only of -his own discomfort. On the contrary, kindness, respect, and attention -were the rule, with hardly one exception. Those but slightly sick were -prompt in ministering to the comfort of the more seriously afflicted. -Affectionate inquiries, gentle sympathy, and, when needed, most tender -assistance, filled with bright spots a voyage which, but for this -blessed spirit, would have been intolerable; making warm and genuine -friends for life of those who but a few days before were perfect -strangers.</p> - -<p>These two experiences prove how unwise it would be to form one’s -estimate of all, in any circumstances, by the freaks and folly of a -few. How easy to excuse much heedlessness and frivolity, hoping for -better things with coming years, if out from among many youthful -follies such good traits are made apparent!</p> - -<p>If this law of unselfish kindness were thoroughly understood; if all, -particularly the young, could realize the rich reward for every kind -act, repaying them tenfold even in this life,—it would extract many -thorns from weary feet, prevent much heart-burning, and give a glory to -the life below only second to that blessed life above, where, when they -enter, they may hope to hear, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the -least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” “Well done, good -and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</span></p> - - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXIX">LXXIX.<br> -IF WE KNEW!</h2> -</div> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“If we knew the baby fingers</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Pressed against the window-pane</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Would be cold and stiff to-morrow,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Never trouble us again,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Would the bright eyes of our darling</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Catch the frown upon our brow?</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Would the print of rosy fingers</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Vex us then as they do now?</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Ah! those little, ice-cold fingers,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">How they point our memories back</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To the hasty words and actions</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Strewn along our backward track!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">How those little hands remind us,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">As in snowy grace they lie,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Not to scatter thorns, but roses,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">For our reaping by and by!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Strange we never prize the music</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Till the sweet-voiced bird has flown!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Strange that we should slight the violets</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Till the lovely flowers are gone!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Strange that summer skies and sunshine</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Never seemed one half so fair</div> - <div class="verse indent2">As when winter’s snowy pinions</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Shake the white down in the air!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Lips from which the seal of silence</div> - <div class="verse indent4">None but God can roll away,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Never blossomed in such beauty</div> - <div class="verse indent4">As adorns the mouth to-day;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And sweet words that freight our memory</div> - <div class="verse indent4">With their beautiful perfume</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Come to us in sweeter accents</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Through the portals of the tomb!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Let us gather up the sunbeams</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Lying all around our path;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</span> - <div class="verse indent2">Let us keep the wheat and roses,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Casting out the thorns and chaff;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Let us find our sweetest comfort</div> - <div class="verse indent4">In the blessings of to-day;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With a patient hand removing</div> - <div class="verse indent4">All the briers from our way.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE wind is playing with the long gray beard on the grand old live-oak -over our heads; the air, soft and balmy, brings the slightest -intimation of perfume from the orange-trees around us; the golden -fruit, half hidden in the rich, glossy leaves, and here and there a bud -just opening into the delicate blossom, give promise of another harvest -before the first is fully gathered. Before us lies the beautiful St. -John’s river, smooth and tranquil as a summer sea; but a steamer in the -distance, like a graceful swan, approaches the wharf, and will soon -disturb its calm, and toss the placid waters into merry ripples or -foaming, sparkling waves. Only for a moment she touches the wharf, then -glides away, and the river subsides into its wonted calm. Her coming -and going have no interest for us, save that which a glimpse, however -transient, of beauty, strength, and grace must always awaken. She -brings none to greet us and claim the welcome, so gladly given by one -far from home.</p> - -<p>Everything around us is quiet. The inmates of the cottage are mostly -out sailing. The gentle provider for the household comforts, “on -hospitable thoughts intent,” is preparing for their return from this -“toil of pleasure,” tired and ravenously hungry. We are entirely alone; -and as we sit in this wonderful quiet, the little poem quoted above, -“If We Knew,” stirs our heart with strange and solemn power.</p> - -<p>Lives there one who does not, in moments of retirement or solitude, -look back to the earliest hours of childhood, and recall times when, -if he could have known the results, his actions would have been far -different?</p> - -<p>If all could in youth look along the map of life clear to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</span> -end, seeing all the breakers and quicksands, which by patience and -self-control could have been avoided, how much more comforting would -be the view they might take, in after years, of the “backward track”! -No doubt it is well, for many reasons, that we cannot read the future. -Trials and sorrows, which no skill or forethought could have turned -aside, would have been doubled by anticipation and foreknowledge. And -yet we doubt if there are many who, looking back from the “half-way -house,” would not willingly endure all the additional pain if they -might have possessed the power to foresee the inevitable results of -certain courses, and, profiting by this foreknowledge, have avoided the -danger or the sin.</p> - -<p>Brother, sister, “if you knew” that soon “those little baby fingers” -would “never trouble you again,” would you be impatient or cross to -your little playmates for their childish, willful ways?</p> - -<p>Two little boys were playing together. Both wanted the rocking-chair -for a horse. Full of health and animal spirits, their dispute ran high, -and ended in a blow. Only a few days passed, and the baby hands of the -younger were folded in “snowy grace” upon the cold and quiet heart, -and laid in the grave. A short time after, hearing bitter sobs in the -garden, the mother found the lonely brother—himself but just past -babyhood—lying under the peach-trees, watching with eager eyes some -birds flying over his head, and calling, between his sobs: “O birdies! -little birdies! Fly up! fly higher! and tell Jesus if he will only let -little brother come down to me, he shall have the rocking-chair all the -time, and I never, never will strike him again! O, <i>never, never</i>!”</p> - -<p>Ah! how many brothers and sisters look back upon little disputes and -sharp, childish quarrels, that would hardly have been remembered had -both been spared to grow up together; but one having been taken away, -that dispute, or the wrong<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</span> done, remains through life a sore spot in -the heart of the survivor.</p> - -<p>Father, be not harsh with your son. He disobeyed your commands, has -done wrong, and for his own good deserves rebuke; but remember he is -“only a little one.” Let your censure be tempered with gentleness. It -was but the overflow of exuberant life, not willful disobedience. If -you could look forward to what soon may be, how leniently would you -judge, how tenderly chide, and by your gentleness secure obedience much -more effectually!</p> - -<p>Ah, poor, tired mother! you are very weary and wellnigh sick. Your eyes -are heavy for want of sleep, and your head throbbing with the noise -and shouts and wild frolics of your little ones. It is often very hard -to bear; but it is health and strength and life overflowing in their -yet untried, undisciplined hearts. Be patient! If soon, with hot and -tearless eyes, you watch by the little crib where fever may conquer -that life but late so joyous and full of activity, can you endure -what God may see best to bring upon you, if, by impatience, you have -“scattered thorns, not roses, for your reaping by and by”?</p> - -<p>“I have asked you twenty times to mend this coat, and it is not done -yet. ‘No time’! How long would it have taken, I should like to know? -But—well—I can go ragged, I suppose. You give little heed to my -wishes or comfort. You must take your own time and way, without regard -to my convenience, or you will not be satisfied.”</p> - -<p>Husband! why do you say such ugly, biting things? You love your -wife. You would be indignant if a looker-on should hint that you -misjudged her or were exacting. Your heart—or that silent monitor, -your conscience—tells you that she did not intend to disregard -your wishes or advice. She was tired, overtaxed with many cares and -frequent interruptions, or perhaps sickness is creeping upon her -unawares.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</span> Whatever the reason, the offense was but a “little thing.” -Or even if she was self-willed or irritable, be patient with her. -You are fully aware that one mode of speaking makes her indignant, -and stirs up all the offensive, opposing elements in her character; -while, on the contrary, a certain tone of your voice, a love-look from -your eye, would have brought her to your side in an instant, sorry, -self-upbraiding, loving and honoring you with all her heart. Ah, “<i>if -you knew</i>”! These first morose, fault-finding words are, perhaps, -“leaving on her heart a shadow, leaving on your heart a stain,” which -may be the beginning of coldness, mistrust, and defiance, or perhaps a -darker sin, when but for them you could have secured joy and gladness -in your house, growing sweeter and purer day by day. Deal gently. You, -her husband, can make her happy, loving, and good, or you can make her -irritable, unloving, and evil, thereby destroying your own happiness as -well as hers. You are the <i>house-bond</i> or <i>home-bond</i>. See -that you sever it not by your own folly.</p> - -<p>“John, why do you always <i>wait</i>, and <i>wait</i>, and hinder me -so? You can come at once, just as well as to keep me waiting, if you -only choose to!”</p> - -<p>Wife, it is just such little, impatient, waspish words that will tempt -your husband to seek quiet, comfort, and appreciation away from your -side. No matter if <i>he</i> does “speak just as impatiently as you -have done, fifty times a day,” show him a better way. Why retort, or -increase the “little shadows,” which you can by gentleness dispel? -Yield a little; it is not hard, and you will reap a glorious reward. Is -not your husband’s love and confidence worth keeping, by the exercise -of a little patience and forbearance? But if not for present joy, to -ward off future misery at least, “set a guard over the door of your -mouth, that you sin not with your lips”; and so tread life’s pathway -with him to whom you have vowed a wife’s fealty that, if called to -sit in the desolation of widowhood,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</span> there shall not be added to that -sorrow the anguish of self-upbraiding for little services impatiently -rendered, or love requited by coldness or irritability.</p> - -<p>When we have passed through all the labors and trials of early life, -and in full maturity or just on the decline pause a moment to recall -the friends of our youth now gone, and the sweet family ties now -broken, how the heart aches with the memory of hasty words or actions, -and vainly yearns for one more opportunity for the better performance -of our whole duty, in all love, fidelity, and patience! But</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent12">“God ... pity us all</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Who vainly the dreams of youth recall;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For of all sad words of tongue or pen,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The saddest are these: <i>It might have been!</i>”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXX">LXXX.<br> -IN SUCH AN HOUR AS YE THINK NOT.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">W</span>HEN a young girl is called by the death of her mother to assume the -management of the family before her home education has been completed, -we know of very few cases which draw so largely on our sympathy. Grief -and depression for the loss of a mother is hard enough for the young -heart to endure; and added to this, it is no easy thing to accept the -responsibility of providing for the comforts of those thus thrown -upon her care. All the economical arrangements of the household, the -oversight of cooking, even when the labor is done by the hands of a -servant; the daily watchings to prevent miscalculations in marketing; -the neatness and regularity to be secured in every department,—may -seem light to an experienced matron,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</span> but are heavy burdens to be laid -upon a slight young girl. Yet all this is but a drop, compared with the -thought and anxiety she must feel in administering to the health and -happiness of her father and of the children, even younger than herself, -who will now turn to her for the care once so efficiently and promptly -given by the mother. And most likely, until trials came to her, the -daughter had never had cares or duties that demanded the exercise of -her independent judgment,—her mother being always near to direct and -decide.</p> - -<p>A daughter may be ever so thoroughly instructed in all womanly -employments, yet if her mother retains the entire charge of every -portion of the household labor,—the child simply following as she is -bid,—there can be little opportunity for the development and exercise -of her individual judgment. She naturally prefers to lean on one ever -ready to relieve her from distasteful duties. This is, no doubt, -pleasant for both,—the mother is happy in shielding, the child happy -in freedom from care. But we doubt if it is wise or right, for often -“in such an hour as ye think not” all this must be changed. Frequently, -without a moment’s warning or time for preparation, the mother is taken -from her family. Ought she not to have furnished her child, by her -teachings, with that experience which, like a lamp trimmed and burning, -would guide her footsteps, enabling her, when this unlooked-for trial -came, to assume these responsibilities with comparative ease? We -believe that even at an early age it is best that some particular duty -should be committed to the care of every child, thus teaching them -self-reliance from the beginning of life, and accustoming even the -little ones to feel responsible for a certain amount of daily labor. -Of course, the mother will quietly watch that these small duties are -properly performed, but not openly, so that her child loses the sense -of real accountability, by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</span> knowing that “mother will see that it is -all right, even if I should neglect or make mistakes.” The mother -must <i>point out</i> mistakes, but the child should always be made -to <i>rectify</i> them. The knowledge that doing work hastily or -carelessly will only be the cause of punishment by compelling her to do -the work over and over again, until it is right, is a great safeguard -against contracting careless habits. Lessons thus enforced do not often -need repeating.</p> - -<p>Little by little, as the child grows toward womanhood, let the mother -throw off some portion of her cares, teaching her daughters to oversee -or perform them correctly, and by so doing not only lighten her own -labors, but make such duties easy for her children in after years, -or if they should be called prematurely to the entire charge. When -daughters are old enough to become their mother’s companions, -they should also become joint partners in home and household -responsibilities. When out of school, divide the work so that every -other week the mother shall be entirely free from all care,—a guest -in the family; or if that is at first too great a tax on the young -partner, “take turns” in dividing the work,—the daughter one week -having the charge of the cooking, marketing, and arranging for each -meal entirely herself; the next week, of the dairy, if on a farm, or -the laundry or chamber- work. When each week is ended, the mother can -point out the failures, or recommend a better or easier way of doing -some particular thing; but unless advice or directions are asked, it is -far better that the young housekeeper should be left to her own skill -and judgment. For a few times this may not prove the best economy, but -in the end “it pays,” and with good interest. Of course, before this -plan can be carried into execution to any extent, the young lady has -served an apprenticeship, so far as to know, herself, that part of the -work which comes under her jurisdiction each week; and when practice -shall have made perfect, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</span> the term of apprenticeship expires, it is -excellent discipline for a daughter to assume the reins entirely, for -a shorter or longer time, as health or pleasure may determine, subject -to such suggestions as may be deemed advisable. This arrangement gives -rest and liberty, if all her children are grown up, for the mother to -read, travel, or enjoy social life; as she could not do when they were -young and needing the mother’s care,—which should never be delegated -to another, unless compelled by ill health. This is a most valuable -training, by which the young housekeeper is prepared for a useful life, -or a happy home of her own some day.</p> - -<p>We cannot but feel that of late years too large a proportion of care -and thought is bestowed by parents in educating their daughters to -shine in fashionable life,—in giving them an ornamental rather than a -solid, practical, or intellectual education. They dislike to keep their -children at close study, lest they should spoil their figures or their -eyes, and allow them to discard housework for fear their hands will -not be small and delicate enough to show to advantage at the piano, or -in a party. Music, painting, and dancing are all well enough in their -way,—some of them very important,—but should not be sought after to -the exclusion of the practical, and by no means the least important -part of a young girl’s education, and preparation for an active, useful -life. Many young ladies will not willingly accept these views; but it -is for the most part because mothers, out of mistaken fondness, do not -care to have them; or, as is too often the case, because they do not -like the drudgery, as they term it, of teaching the lessons in domestic -economy, so necessary to their future welfare,—an indolent or selfish -mode of setting aside heaven-ordained duties, for which a severe -reckoning may one day be demanded.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXXI">LXXXI.<br> -GRUMBLING.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T must be that a certain class of people find pleasure in -fault-finding and grumbling, or they would not search so industriously -for an opportunity to exercise their talents in this direction; or, -failing to secure a legitimate occasion, willfully manufacture one. -In the family, this habit is, unfortunately, often carried to a great -extent, even among those who are, undoubtedly, sincerely attached -to each other. The first word in the morning is usually a querulous -inquiry or complaint about some trivial thing which they merely -<i>suspect</i> has been neglected or unsatisfactorily performed. -They do not take the trouble to inquire if their suspicions are well -founded. Such inquiry might deprive them of the luxury of grumbling. -If it were not so sad to hear the early morning hours thus desecrated, -it might furnish much amusement for a looker-on to notice how often -these unfortunates are caught in their own trap, and the fact made -evident to all that the foolish words were but the ebullition of -arrogance and irritability, having no foundation.</p> - -<p>“My dear!” (you will notice that a <i>gentleman</i> grumbler begins a -complaint with a strongly emphasized term of endearment,)—“my dear! -why could you not heed my request that our breakfast might be one -half-hour later this morning? I told you I was very tired, and needed a -little more rest. But it is useless for me to imagine you would deviate -from your rules one minute just for my comfort.”</p> - -<p>“Why, Tom! how unreasonable you are! You are so in the habit of finding -fault, that you never stop to learn certainly if there is any cause -for dissatisfaction. Your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</span> breakfast is just three quarters of an hour -later than usual. I delayed it just as long as I could, expressly for -your comfort.”</p> - -<p>“I said <i>half</i> an hour, <i>not three quarters</i>. That was every -minute I could spare. Now, I shall be too late for some very important -business. But you are always interfering, as if I didn’t understand my -own business best!”</p> - -<p>But when the grumbler has had a good cup of coffee or tea, and the -“inner man” is suitably refreshed by an abundant breakfast, he seems -to be in no great haste to attend to that important business; but has -leisure to look over the papers, play a moment with the children, and -can really speak gently to the one so rudely censured in the morning, -before his appetite was appeased.</p> - -<p>“Now, I call this real cruel, John. I must go to market right off after -breakfast, because you forgot to bring home the marketing last night. -And I asked you so particularly; as we have company to dinner, I have -hardly time to get ready. But I might have known if I wanted anything -in season, tired or sick, I must always do it myself. It is really too -bad!”</p> - -<p>“My dear! if I might slip in a word, I would like to inform you that I -<i>did</i> bring home the marketing according to orders, and gave it to -the cook. You will doubtless find it in the store-closet.”</p> - -<p>“O John! that’s just like you. Why couldn’t you have told me last -night? It wouldn’t have hurt you to have taken that trouble, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>“You had company, you recollect, when I came home. I had an errand to -do after tea, and you were fast asleep when I returned. What chance had -I to tell you?”</p> - -<p>“You couldn’t have told me quietly, even if we had company, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“Why, child! how eager you are to find fault!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</span></p> - -<p>“O, yes! of course I am the only one to blame.”</p> - -<p>It is not necessary to multiply examples, though, we are sorry to -say, they could be brought from every class and position. But such -things are not pleasant to hear, and certainly do not look well on -paper. It is to be feared that we all have some germs of this same -malady,—enough, at least, to understand the symptoms, and warn us -to vigorous efforts to eradicate them. If allowed to take root, they -deface our own characters, and disturb, if not destroy, the comfort of -home. When parents indulge in this sin of grumbling, they cannot wonder -if their children follow their example, and even go beyond it. A whole -family of grumblers! what can be more wretched?</p> - -<p>Another class, whose behavior at home is unexceptionable, spare their -families, reserving their grumbling for business hours, giving their -servants or clerks the discomfort that the first class lay by for home -consumption. There is hope for those. By and by some high-spirited -sufferer from their waspishness and fault-finding, having endured their -wearisome grumbling till patience is no longer a virtue, may teach -them a lesson, through their self-interest, that will perhaps prove -effectual.</p> - -<p>But we have a few words to say of another class,—<i>grumbling -travelers</i>. At some of our hotel tables, where travelers “most do -congregate,” one can read a chapter of absurd and ridiculous weakness -to be found nowhere else. We have known people to sit down to a table -where we could find no occasion for complaint, and grumble loudly at -every individual article. Coffee, “horrid”; tea, “an insult to set -such stuff before any one”; soup, “too thick,” or “too thin”; and so -on through the whole bill of fare. Nothing set before them that was -not made a subject of criticism or rude comparison between the hotel -fare and the wonderful perfections of their own table. This habit of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</span> -fault-finding is, by a certain class, considered a certificate of -superiority which cannot fail to convince the public that they are -persons of wealth and high-standing at home. A mistaken idea. Even the -waiters at public tables, who, in consequence of the variety of guests -to whom they are called, are usually good judges of character, are not -deceived by this vain pretense; but many sly glances, that can only be -interpreted as contemptuous, may be detected; and as these complainers -leave the table, the waiters whisper to each other, as they pass to and -fro, “Shoddy,” with looks that cannot be misunderstood.</p> - -<p>This class of travelers leave their homes, not for information and -improvement, but for the opportunity of grumbling, on a new and more -extensive scale than can be attained in their own families. They leave -home in search of some yet untried cause for grumbling, and by a long -stretch of conscience and imagination they contrive to find it, and -return with a large store of freshly gathered material, over which to -expatiate for some weeks, quite to the relief of their families.</p> - -<p>All this kind of grumbling appears to us most unreasonable and -ridiculous; but if not inclined to find fault in any of the ways -mentioned, we are beginning to fear that every one meets some point in -life where he imagines dissatisfaction and complaint to be perfectly -justifiable. Something in their surroundings is out of joint. Their -most carefully laid plans and well-grounded expectations fail; -friends grow cold; where lies the fault? Is none of it with you? The -foundations of our worldly prosperity seem built on solid rock, but -they slide from under us. We take to our hearts one dearer than our own -life, and in an hour when we think not the bond is severed. Time and -again the cradle is left empty; or a sweet and loving spirit emerges -from it, and step by step grows toward clear companionship, when, as in -a moment, God calls, and we are left in sackcloth and ashes.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</span> We murmur -and repine,—God’s dealings appear so unequally distributed. In the -same vicinity one family grows up unbroken, from babyhood into vigorous -manhood, while another home is left desolate, and they cry out in their -anguish, “I do well to be angry.” They forget that God deals with his -children as they deal with the rich but uncultivated lands committed -to their care. What is more beautiful to the eye than a large grove of -wild orange-trees?—but how useless if left unimproved! Who complains -when their beauty, for the present, is destroyed, the trees cut back -and pruned till they stand bare and unsightly? But the buds and grafts -which have been introduced will soon start into new life, the branches -begin to shoot upward, and the sweet, pure blossoms and golden fruit -will clothe the tree, which a grumbler would have thought wholly -destroyed, with new beauty. The old beauty was defaced only that the -tree should, in the end, become fruitful, and thereby more gloriously -perfect than at first.</p> - -<p>Yet we murmur when our wild orange groves are cut back, pruned, and -grafted, and the “seedlings” from our nurseries transplanted. We forget -that</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Stand dressed in living green,”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">which are made more gloriously beautiful by every rare and -precious plant that our Father transplants from this beautiful but -stormy earth to his garden,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Where everlasting spring abides,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And never withering flowers.”</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</span> - </div> -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXXII">LXXXII.<br> -LITTLE FOXES SPOILING THE BELOVED VINE.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“A</span> MOTHER” desires to know if she fails in discipline, or if her -children are more troublesome and difficult to manage than other -people’s. She has coaxed, reasoned, whipped; shut up in solitude, fed -them on bread and water, or confined them in a dark room; but all -appears to be ineffectual. They do nothing really <i>wicked</i>, in the -strict sense of that term; but they forget or disregard all rules or -commands, are mischievous and careless; boisterous and full of frolic -one day, to the neglect of every duty, and the next, quarrelsome, -irritable, and in every respect uncertain. This mother feels her -responsibility deeply, and with all her heart desires to bring her -children up in the right way, but is more and more conscious that she -fails in her efforts, and now feels disheartened and discouraged.</p> - -<p>We judge the great trouble here is over-anxiety. Her children are -<i>governed too much</i>. It is not easy to lead young, conscientious -mothers to see this; but the grandmothers, profiting by their own -mistakes, see in these boisterous, careless, impressible children that -which, if not too closely pruned, will mature into strong, healthy men -and women; and in their irritability and disobedience they recognize -the effect of over-restraint, and too great repression of youthful, -exuberant, animal spirit, which, if slightly modified and gently led, -will be an invaluable assistance to these little ones in after life, -giving them strength and force of character to act well their part when -they enter in earnest on their life’s work. No doubt quiet, demure, -proper children would be the most desirable, just for the present -comfort of mothers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</span> or friends. Overtasked bodies and aching heads find -such children less troublesome. But it is not for present ease that -good mothers live. They look for their reward in the future usefulness -of their children, and “for the joy that is set before them” they -endure the cross like good soldiers.</p> - -<p>Yet while striving, in all patience, self-sacrifice, and love, to make -your children happy in the formatory state, and at the same time teach -them better ways, you must also be on the watch for the foes without -and the foes within,—the “little foxes” that seek to destroy</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent4">“The beloved vine</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Trusted to your tending</div> - <div class="verse indent4">By the One Divine.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">In no case be easy and lenient to that which is -<i>sin</i>,—not merely childish sport or thoughtlessness. Root -up the smallest germ from which mean, low, or wicked habits will -spring, with a kind but uncompromising firmness. You cannot guard -your charge too closely here; but be most scrupulously careful that -you are not overhasty in judging of the character of their faults, -but have rightfully distinguished between deliberate, intentional -wrong-doing and childish folly. Let your children feel that for the -first you accept no excuse; for the latter you are lenient, full of -loving-kindness and tender mercy. For disobedience that springs from -stubbornness and a willful determination to do that which is forbidden -at all hazards, be not cruel and harsh, but firm, and so severe that -the child will have no doubt of your resolution to destroy the evil -by meeting each act with quick retribution. Yet when compelled to -punish, be so careful of your own heart that your erring one cannot -but see that you are severe from no one emotion of anger, or because -you are made uncomfortable, but because God has committed them to your -care, and will demand a strict account of your stewardship.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</span> Be sure, -in your dealings with your children, that they have no difficulty -in seeing that you recognize a wide difference between overt sins -and wrong done through childish thoughtlessness and ignorance; and -while you gently point out the inconvenience and mischief apparent -in consequence of their careless acts, seek to make it plain to them -that you restrain because you do not like them to seek their sports -and amusements selfishly, and at the expense of others’ comfort. -Before you decide that any act of your children is really sinful and -deserving punishment, examine and hear all that can be said in excuse -or palliation.</p> - -<p>Then as to the mode of punishment, when it really becomes necessary, -we think the parents’ judgment ought to be the surest guide, as they -should better understand the characters they have to deal with. Some -children, when they find that punishment is sure to follow wrong-doing, -submit easily; others are resolute or defiant, and these traits should -decide the nature of such infliction as the parent finds unavoidable. -There are times with certain children when we think a sound whipping -the most curative process; while to others it would be so humiliating -as to irreparably injure the child’s character; but a whipping is -not needed once, where some young, inexperienced, but conscientious -parents employ it twenty times. Where it must be resorted to, let it be -sufficiently severe to make a repetition a thing to be dreaded; but, if -brutal, it is simply barbarity, not justice.</p> - -<p>Never, under any circumstances, <i>strike a child on the head</i> -or <i>box the ears</i>. That is the act of anger, and in general is -practiced only when the judgment is overruled by passion. Do not -attempt to turn a child from the “error of his ways” by any such -heathenish means. No one can judge at the time of the force of a -blow dealt in anger; and though done thoughtlessly, in a moment of -irritation, it may bring life-long suffering and sorrow. So,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</span> shutting -up a child in a dark room, though it may not appear at the time so -barbarous, has often resulted in the most painful, if not fatal -injuries. Neither do we approve of attempting to convert a child -through its appetite; a dark room, a cup of water, and a crust of bread -savors too much of the inquisition or the convict’s cell for Christian -parents to imitate.</p> - -<p>After all, each one must be a law unto himself. Another cannot give -special rules for any one; but there is one thing that it may be well -for every parent to bear in mind always, namely, that probably a large -proportion of the evil we find in our children is but the continuation -or increase of our own faults, unheeded while they were our own. -And this should teach us great caution, great love and gentleness -in governing our little imitators. Mrs. Mary Crann, some years ago, -published some pretty verses on “The Little Foxes,” which spoil our -“beloved vines.” They are very touching, because so true, and mothers -cannot fail to read them with deep feeling, and with full hearts -thank the author who in these lines gives utterance to the sorrow and -self-condemnation which so often oppress them, when their own faults -and failings look at them through their little ones. We think we cannot -do better than to finish by giving our readers the whole poem:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Little foxes, spoiling</div> - <div class="verse indent4">The beloved vine</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Trusted to my tending</div> - <div class="verse indent4">By the One Divine.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Little foxes, wherefore</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Have ye entrance found</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To the vine so precious</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Growing in my ground?</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Have ye leaped the fences?</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Have ye climbed the wall?</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Were there tiny openings?</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Ye are very small,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</span> - <div class="verse indent2">And ye can creep slyly</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Through a tiny space;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But I thought I closed up</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Every open place.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“And I watched by daytime,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And I watched by night,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For the vine you’re spoiling</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Is my heart’s delight!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I have kept the earth-worm</div> - <div class="verse indent4">From its precious root;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I have trimmed its branches,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">But they bear no fruit.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“For the little foxes</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Have assailed the vine,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Trusted to my tending</div> - <div class="verse indent4">By the One Divine;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And though I’ve been faithful</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Since its birthday morn,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">They were in the garden</div> - <div class="verse indent4">When the babe was born.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“For they are the failings</div> - <div class="verse indent4">That I would not see</div> - <div class="verse indent2">When they were <i>my</i> failings,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">When they dwelt in me;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Little faults unheeded,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">That I now despise;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For my baby took them</div> - <div class="verse indent4">With my hair and eyes.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“And I chide her often,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">For I know I must.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But I do it always</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Bowed down to the dust,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With a face all crimsoned</div> - <div class="verse indent4">With a burning blush,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And an inward whisper</div> - <div class="verse indent4">That I cannot hush.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“And sometimes it seemeth</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Like the voice of God,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And it says, ‘Poor coward,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Using now the rod</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</span> - <div class="verse indent2">On a child’s frail body,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Till I hear it moan,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And see its soft flesh quiver</div> - <div class="verse indent4">For a sin thine own.’</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“O my Father, pity,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Pity and forgive;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Slay the little foxes</div> - <div class="verse indent4">I allowed to live</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Till they left the larger</div> - <div class="verse indent4">For the smaller vine,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Till they touched the dear life,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Dearer far than mine.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“O my Father, hear me,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Make my darling thine,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Though I am so human,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Make her all divine!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Slay the little foxes,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">That both vines may be</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Laden with fruit worthy</div> - <div class="verse indent4">To be offered thee!”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXXIII">LXXXIII.<br> -WASTE NOT—WANT NOT.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">M</span>ANY, particularly among the young, associate economy and frugality -with meanness, ungenerousness, and a churlish, disobliging disposition.</p> - -<p>“There would be no pleasure or comfort in living,” said a young -lady, when a friend was endeavoring to show her the desirableness -of “counting cost,” before entering upon any extravagant -expenditures,—“there would be no comfort in living, if I must stop -and consider the price,—adding up at every step, and deliberating -upon the sum total before I dared to make a purchase; to say every -minute, ‘Can I afford<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</span> this?’ or, ‘Can I manage to do without that?’ To -compel myself to study how I could alter over an old garment, how to -change the trimmings so as to hide such piecing as must be done, before -I could bring the article into usable shape, and at the same time -preserve a genteel appearance; to pick up pins and needles, buttons -and strings, keeping before my mind all the time the idea of economy -and saving, in everything, small as well as great! Pshaw! I should -feel so mean. I should despise myself, and think all my acquaintances -would despise me also. I’d sooner spend what I have in a free-and-easy -manner, taking what pleasure I could in it, as long as it lasted, and, -when all was gone, go to the poorhouse or die! I do really think so.”</p> - -<p>A change of cars took them away, and we do not know what reply was -made to this speech; but from it we thought one could, without -uncharitableness, form a pretty correct estimate of the speaker’s -character and probable future. She may not end in the poorhouse, though -that would not be the most unlikely thing that could happen; but if she -marries, the heart of her husband cannot safely trust in her, and her -children will not rise up and call her blessed. Waste and extravagance -go hand in hand, and happiness and comfort do not walk with them. Those -whom they beguile become selfish, seeking their own gratification, -regardless of the interests of others.</p> - -<p>It is possible that parents often err in their mode of inculcating -economy, and, while striving to enforce its practice, render the whole -subject, and every idea connected with it, distasteful by overmuch -teaching. However that may be, for some reason the young appear to -look upon it as something to be shunned, feeling that they would “lose -caste,” if they even spoke of it, and to attempt to practice it would -shut them out from certain acquaintances as something quite inferior. -So, if compelled to economize, they do it secretly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</span> while they think -of it as an evil to be deplored. All their little devices to “keep up -appearances,” and bring their surroundings into harmony with their -more wealthy neighbors, they shrink from having known, as from real -disgrace or guilt; whereas the ingenuity displayed is something often -worthy of much praise, if used openly, without regard to foolish -criticisms. Those who have the <i>gift</i> to practice a judicious -economy, to save carefully, because it is <i>right</i>, and not from a -niggardly, miserly desire to hoard,—in household affairs, in dress, or -in anything that comes under their care,—are endowed with a talent for -which they may well be proud, and which is recognized by all sensible -people as most desirable, even by those who are placed in circumstances -where the closest watchfulness and care may not be a necessity.</p> - -<p>But it is not merely as matter of necessity that we wish to direct -the attention of all good housekeepers to the duty of thrift and -carefulness in the management of their affairs. We do not think the -poor, or those merely in moderate circumstances, should be allowed to -monopolize all the pleasure which, if rightly viewed, can be secured -by a frugal use and proper economy of the good things of this world -that may be placed at our disposal. The rich have an equal right with -the poor to share in this pleasure. A proper education, presenting -this subject in the true light, will show conclusively that the more -abundant the riches, the greater will be the satisfaction derived from -proper discretion and judgment in the use and distribution of them. The -good one can do, the large amount of personal happiness to be secured -by the good done, would be sufficient motives, even if there were no -higher, for strict watchfulness against waste, even in the smallest -item. If one has the means, and recognizes the greater convenience -of making purchases in large quantities, there is no degradation in -doing it <i>because</i> it is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</span> also the better economy. But because -they have bought by the wholesale, and filled their store-rooms with -large and generous supplies, they must not feel that they have nothing -to do but fold their hands and allow others to scatter their stores -recklessly and without judgment. Making the purchases and seeing them -carefully put in place is by no means the end of their duty. They are -but stewards of God’s bounties, and a steward may not relax his care. -If a lady can afford to keep a housekeeper, and is willing to submit -to the rule and tyranny of one, rather than burden herself with the -entire charge of a house, we can only say, “There is no accounting for -tastes,” and will not presume to doubt her right to do so; but even -then, after having thrown off the supervision of the household, and all -the details connected with its care, we believe every one should still -retain sufficient responsibility to be sure that the housekeeper is -faithful, capable, and willing at all times to render a satisfactory -account of her stewardship; and the mistress should be able to know, -also, by these accounts, if she is true to her trust. If this was -generally understood to be the rule with all, there would be less -unfaithful stewardship, less defalcation in the household certainly, if -not everywhere else.</p> - -<p>But the injury done to subordinates by extravagance is one of the -worst features of this evil. Our servants are quick imitators, and if -the mistress is easy and careless in her expenditures, the maid soon -learns to follow her example, and so will waste the material put into -her hands. It does not take long to teach one of the improvident class, -from which our servants usually come, a lesson which not only leads her -to be careless of the property of others, even when she has no thought -or intention of being dishonest, but wholly unfits her for saving her -own earnings or managing a home of her own. Hence we see all around us -those who have lived in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</span> wealthy families marrying, with no knowledge -of providing for a family, or of using the little they have with -economy. So they sink down, year after year, into deeper poverty and -wretchedness; ending, perhaps, in the poorhouse; when if the lessons -learned in their employer’s house had been those of true economy, they -might now be living in neat and comfortable homes.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXXIV">LXXXIV.<br> -MAKING CAKE AND PASTRY.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">O</span>NE of our young friends, speaking of her troubles, says:—</p> - -<p>“I must have cake in the house, but shrink from the attempt to make -it; and in my brief experience in housekeeping have, so far, depended -on the bake-shops; for I know nothing about such work, and won’t let -my girl see me trying it, lest she find out what a novice her mistress -is. If I should put all the materials for my cake together, in the -most careful manner, and when it is taken from the oven find that -it was not good, <i>I</i> should not know if the failure arose from -my want of skill in preparing it, or from my girl’s carelessness in -baking it; but <i>she</i> would doubtless know whose the fault was, -and I am dreadfully afraid it would prove to have been my own. I don’t -understand much about cooking, and still less, I fear, how to judge of -the quality of the materials I must use in cooking.”</p> - -<p>In the first place, bear in mind always, in purchasing, that it is -cheaper in the end to buy <i>the best</i>, and in no one article is -this so manifest as in flour. Get the best in market, even if you pay -an extra price, and notice the <i>brand</i>. Try the flour faithfully, -and if it proves satisfactory, “make a note<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</span> of it,” and continue to -furnish yourself with that kind, unless, after a few times, you find it -deteriorates.</p> - -<p>Good flour will adhere, slightly pressed together in the hand; and when -you unclasp your hand, the <i>lines</i> in the palm will be plainly -seen on the flour you have held so tightly. Dough from good flour will -not be a clear, blue white, but yellowish, and, when well kneaded, will -not stick to the hand.</p> - -<p>We should have said, in the first place, by inquiries and observation -secure a good, honest, reliable grocer,—one who will truly endeavor -to serve you with the best; having satisfied yourself that you can -trust him, you will find his judgment will assist you out of many -uncertainties, until you have, by experience, learned to trust your own.</p> - -<p>The same rule for buying holds good of all groceries. <i>Buy the -best.</i> You will save money and insure comfort by it. There is no -more economy in buying cheap sugar than cheap flour. A barrel of pure, -clear, granulated sugar will last longer, and in the end be cheaper, -than any of the coffee or brown sugars.</p> - -<p>Before collecting your materials for making cake or pies, see that your -stove or range is in good order; the grate shaken free from ashes; all -the fuel needed for the cooking added and burning clear. Be careful -that no doors or windows are opened, so that the air will blow across -the stove. No oven can bake well if this is not prevented, or if the -sun shines across it. We all know that if this happens, the coal will -soon look whitish, instead of burning clear and lively.</p> - -<p>Having the fire and oven in a proper condition, you can now prepare for -making bread, cake, or pastry. Of course you will have a large, clean -apron, and <i>fold, not push</i>, your sleeves back above the elbow. -A sack apron, with high neck and short sleeves, made long and full -enough to cover the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</span> dress, is a great convenience, for if suddenly -called from your work you can throw it off easily, leaving your dress -in a neat, presentable condition. A close net cap drawn over the head -will prevent loose hairs falling into your work, and should be more -used than is common. A basin of water and a clean towel close by are -necessary, so that you need not be obliged to stop in the midst of your -work to get it in case of any mishap. Put everything you will need on -the table. Be sure that all utensils are always put away clean, so -that, when they are next wanted, you will not be hindered to do more -than wipe them free from the dust which may have gathered upon them. -Scrupulous neatness about all your cooking-utensils should never be -forgotten. If iron, tin, wood, or earthen vessels are set aside without -being scrubbed perfectly clean and wiped dry, you will waste much time -when next they are needed, aside from risking a moldy or rusty taste in -your food.</p> - -<p>A good-sized bread or molding-board, white and clean, perfectly dry -and smooth, should be placed on the table. It keeps the flour, sugar, -etc. that may fall, from the table, and is readily lifted, with all the -soiled dishes on it, to the sink for washing,—thus saving much litter -and many steps. Learn to cook without gathering a large number of -things about; after a little practice, you will be surprised to see how -few things are really needed, and how much confusion and how many steps -can be avoided by a little management.</p> - -<p>In making cake, dry and sift the flour, roll the sugar, if at all lumpy -(granulated sugar will not lump), and put it in separate bowls or pans. -Wash the butter, for cake or pastry, and put it into ice-water; weigh -or measure the sugar and milk needed. Raisins should be stoned, the -citron cut in thin slices, and currants washed and picked over, covered -closely, and put away in a cool place the night before they are needed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</span></p> - -<p>These materials all collected, butter the pans. If for cake, line them -with clean white paper, well buttered. Use butter, instead of lard or -drippings, as they may give an unpleasant taste to the under crust. -Cake baked in butter-lined pans does not burn so readily on the bottom. -If the cake does not require long baking, unbuttered paper will answer, -as it will peel off readily when the cake is cool. Have some clean -paper at hand to cover the top of the cake, if it begins to scorch.</p> - -<p>The white paper used to print our newspapers on is as good for -buttering and lining cake pans as the more expensive letter-paper, -and is also very nice to cover shelves with, or lay in the bottoms of -drawers. Two or three dozen sheets will last a good while, be of little -expense, and very convenient for many purposes.</p> - -<p>Eggs that are to be used in cake should be put into cold water in -summer, while you are making your preparations, until ready to use -them. Then break each one separately into a cup, to see if it is good; -but by breaking all into the dish you beat them in, you risk ruining -the whole by one bad egg. If good, turn it into the dish, and proceed -the same way with the others. Have your nutmegs grated, and all other -spices ready.</p> - -<p>These preliminaries attended to, (and it takes but a few minutes to -have all in readiness when you have done it rightly and methodically,) -begin to put the materials together. First beat the butter and sugar -together, till white and creamy; then beat the eggs,—the yelks and -whites separately always, as whites require longer beating than yelks. -Strain the yelks after beating, and add to them well-beaten butter and -sugar; then the spices; stir in the flour gradually, before using the -sweet or sour milk needed. If you use soda and cream of tartar, the -latter should be sifted with the flour, and the soda, dissolved in cool -milk or water,—never in hot water,—should<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</span> be added after the milk. -If <i>prepared flour</i> is used, no soda or cream of tartar can be put -in at all. Beat the batter very light, flour the currants and raisins -and stir in; then add the whites, beaten stiff, the last thing. After -they are added, the batter must not be beaten hard,—only enough to -have it thoroughly incorporated with the dough. In beating the whites, -do not stop after you begin till quite stiff, else they will “go back,” -and then they will not come up light again.</p> - -<p>In raised cake, put in the fruit, rolled in flour, just before you put -the cake into the oven. Spread it over the top lightly, and press it in -but a little way, else it will all sink to the bottom and be worthless.</p> - -<p>Only practice and watchfulness can teach you how to judge correctly -when cake, bread, etc., are done. If ever so perfectly made, it will -be heavy if taken from the oven before being thoroughly baked. When -obliged to turn pans round in the oven, do not move them roughly, and -never, if possible, take cake, bread, or biscuit out of the oven to -turn. The air striking on them will make them heavy and solid.</p> - -<p>Cake made with sour milk or buttermilk should be put into the oven the -moment it is put together, unless, like cookies or hard gingerbread, it -is to be molded or rolled. In that case it is quite as good to be kept -overnight or for some hours before baking.</p> - -<p>In making pastry use the best butter you can find. Poor butter is bad -enough anywhere, but nowhere so detestable as in pastry. If made with -lard it looks nicer, but is by no means so good, and certainly much -more hurtful than when shortened with two thirds more butter than lard. -Use the hands as little as possible in making pastry; either rub in the -shortening quickly, or chop it into the flour, so as not to heat it by -your hands, particularly in warm weather. Wet always with cold water, -and in summer with ice-cold water. Don’t touch it with your hands after -you are ready to put in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</span> water, but stir together with a knife -quickly and lightly, turning it at once upon the board and roll out. -Molding will make it tough. Bake in a moderately hot oven to a delicate -brown. If scorched or hard baked, it will be bitter and disagreeable. -If your oven does not bake so well at the bottom as at the top, the -bottom crust will be very heavy and unhealthy.</p> - -<p>Before rolling out, let your pastry stand on the ice, or in a cold -place for an hour, as it makes it much more flaky.</p> - -<p>In making puddings, some advise beating both whites and yelks together -and then straining them. We prefer to beat separately, straining the -yelks. The milk for most pies should be boiled, in which case the eggs -must be added the last thing, and after the milk has become cool.</p> - -<p>In batter puddings, only a little milk should be added to the flour -at a time, and all the lumps beaten out smoothly before adding more, -if you would have a light batter. When berries of any kind are put -into batter pudding, they should be rolled in flour and added to the -batter the last thing, or they will not mix well, and will settle to -the bottom and be heavy. One third more flour is requisite for a batter -pudding with fruit than when plain, except with cherries. They need -only a little more.</p> - -<p>If you have no tin pudding-boiler, a bowl, with a thick cloth tied -tightly over, answers very well, or a thick tow or “butcher’s linen” -square cloth. If a cloth is used, wring it out of cold water, and -then sprinkle or spread flour over. Tie the cloth or bag very tight, -but allow room to swell; plunge at once into a pot of boiling water, -which must be kept constantly boiling until the pudding is done, or -it will be poor and watery. Replenish the water as it wastes, by -pouring boiling water from the teakettle into the pot. If there is -fruit in the pudding, it should be turned over four or five times the -first half-hour; if plain batter, turn it over when it has boiled ten -minutes, or the flour will settle.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</span></p> - -<p>When done, a boiled pudding must be plunged into cold water a moment, -to make it separate from the cloth easily. In cutting a boiled pudding, -dip the knife in hot water for a minute, or lay it on the sides of the -pudding till warm, and you can cut it without making it heavy.</p> - -<p>Old housekeepers will think these hints quite needless, but letters -daily received show them to be very much needed by the young, with whom -in a short time we intend to have another quiet talk, from which the -old folks may retire.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXXV">LXXXV.<br> -AS THY DAY SO SHALL THY STRENGTH BE.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">F</span>ROM those who seek counsel or consolation we receive many letters -which we would gladly excuse ourselves from answering, by the plea that -such topics come not under our supervision. But we cannot feel that -words for “The Household” mean only information about the washing, -cooking, and house-cleaning,—simply those things which belong to the -temporal state and bodily comfort. We are compelled to attach a broader -meaning to that word <i>household</i>. All the joys and sorrows, -the hopes and fears, all the perplexities and anxieties which the -<i>mother</i>, even more than the <i>mistress</i>, must accept when she -assumes her position as the head of the home circle, cluster around the -word and rise before her each hour of the day, if she conscientiously -tries to do her duty. Not alone the health and bodily comfort of those -who compose her kingdom, but their life-long usefulness and eternal -happiness, are committed to her watchful care, and may be wrecked by -one false step, one unguarded act, one ill-tempered word or unjust -suspicion. Ah, to attempt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</span> to trace her responsibility through all the -life that lies before her is overwhelming if she has not learned to -feel that “as her day so shall her strength be”!</p> - -<p>At times the mother’s life is full of brightness and joyousness; -again, she sinks to the depths of despondency, or trembles with wild -forebodings as her multiplying duties rise up before her, and she -realizes how many conflicting characters and dispositions are depending -on her for guidance. Nowhere does she feel this so keenly as in the -care of her children. The consciousness of ignorance or inability to -judge correctly, to act judiciously, so as to meet the wants of each -child and be just to all, oppresses her. If all were alike, so that one -code of laws, one well-digested line of action, would be as appropriate -to the whole as to each individual case, the responsibility of rearing -a family would be far less oppressive.</p> - -<p>But there are no two the same. Each differs so widely in taste, -disposition, and habits, that it necessitates as many modes of -management as there are children in the family. One is loving and -gentle. The parents need but express a wish, and, through the -affections, the child finds its greatest pleasure in yielding its own -wishes to secure theirs. Another is timid and sensitive to the last -degree. A sharp “word at random spoken,” or ill-advised censure, may -have “eternal power through life to wound,” because this very timidity -induces a habit of reticence and concealment; the child preferring to -endure the pain, rather than go through the ordeal of an explanation or -justification; and the next one may be too proud to attempt it, both -coming to the same results through widely different peculiarities.</p> - -<p>One is bold and outspoken; another carelessly, recklessly happy, -forgetting or neglecting all the rules of home in the overflowing -joyousness of living; another is so under the influence of -approbativeness, that to please and be approved,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</span> crowd independent, -manly action out of sight; and the mother is too happy, if the power of -this peculiarity does not too often draw the child beyond the bounds of -strict honor and truthfulness.</p> - -<p>And so through a large family you may look in vain for two so similar -in character that, by taking that course which proves best for one, you -may safely guide the other by it.</p> - -<p>A mother of eight children, whose faith is wellnigh exhausted, who is -cast down and wholly discouraged, thinks she would gladly die to escape -the great responsibility of managing them; and this responsibility -is growing greater and greater each year, as her boys and girls are -leaving babyhood behind, and rapidly springing up toward manhood and -womanhood. While they were little she enjoyed every moment, never -feeling the care a burden. By and by one was taken from her, and for a -while she refused to be comforted, till the Saviour spake and drew her -to him.</p> - -<p>But while she has evidently learned to <i>believe</i> in Jesus, we -think she has not yet learned to <i>trust</i>. After her conversion, -the sense of her obligations to lead her children by the strait and -narrow road has, we think, pressed very heavily upon her, and she -is in danger, not only of hedging the path so closely as to render -it distasteful, and to drive them from it, but is also depriving -herself of all the joy she might possess by their true and loving -companionship. She becomes alarmed at every act which teaches her that -her children are but mortal, and sees in it evidence conclusive that -they are rapidly going to destruction.</p> - -<p>She comes to us for counsel and asks, “Is it because I am so sinful or -so incompetent, that I do not succeed better in teaching my dear ones -to forsake the evil and choose only the good? They are loving and kind; -but if their hearts are not entirely astray from God, why do they so -constantly forget all I try to teach them, and do those things which -they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</span> know I think wrong? Did you ever feel discouraged and almost -hopeless?”</p> - -<p>Yes, O yes! And voluntarily threw away half the comfort every mother -is entitled to when her children are young and ever with her. -Anxious mothers never fully remember the days of their own youth, -or realize that half of what they call sin is but the overflow of -bright, young spirits, ready to effervesce and sparkle a little -beyond the strict lines that the mother, in her more sedate years, -has marked out as the proper bounds. Then mothers are so full of -apprehension, so easily alarmed! “The evils of this life appear like -rocky precipices,—rugged and barren when seen at a distance”; and -they are sure their children will stumble and fall, and be destroyed -by them. But wait and <i>trust</i>. When the great pressure of present -care is somewhat lifted, and the children, one by one, go out from -your immediate influence, and little grandchildren rise up about -you,—for whom, though you dearly love them, you do not feel the full -responsibility,—you will find on a nearer approach to these “rocky -precipices” which so frightened you, “that there are many fruitful -spots and refreshing springs mixed with the harshness and deformities -of nature.” And remember, above all things, that it is folly to add all -the possible cares and burdens of the <i>future</i> to those which can -come to you only day by day.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“Does each day upon the wing</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Its allotted burden bring?</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Load it not besides with sorrow</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Which belongeth to the morrow.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Strength is promised, strength is given,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">When the heart by God is riven;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But <i>foredate</i> the day of woe,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And <i>alone</i> thou bear’st the blow.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“One thing only claims thy care:</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Seek thou first, by faith and prayer,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</span> - <div class="verse indent2">That all-glorious world above,—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Scene of righteousness and love;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And, whate’er thou need’st below,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">He thou trustest will bestow.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXXVI">LXXXVI.<br> -WHAT WE KNOW NOT NOW WE SHALL KNOW HEREAFTER.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">S</span>TRANGE how natural it is for each individual to feel that there are -no troubles, no sorrows, so severe as his own! How ready we are to -feel that if the lessons our Father is teaching us were such as others -around us were learning, we could surely bear them with fortitude!</p> - -<p>The mother whom we spoke of in the last article, like many more who -fully understand her difficulties,—for they are passing over the same -rough road,—felt her trust and faith failing; yea, would “gladly -lie down and die,” before half her threescore years and ten were -accomplished, might she escape the responsibility of teaching her -children, and using her best faculties (no one is asked to do any more) -to train them up into noble men and women. The task appeared so hard, -the way so long, and her faith so weak!</p> - -<p>Now another mother claims, at least, our fullest sympathy,—a Rachel, -“mourning for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they -are not.” One after another has been taken from her, and each one at -“the most interesting age.”</p> - -<p>When is this “most interesting” age? Can a mother draw the line? In -early babyhood the precious gift nestles in her bosom, and lives -entirely through her life,—so dependent on her for every care and -comfort, that no one else<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</span> can attempt to supply her place. Utterly -helpless as the babe is, when the mother realizes how necessary to its -life is her ceaseless watchfulness, can there be any period when it -will be so interesting, so dear to her heart, as now, in this state of -complete dependence?</p> - -<p>But slowly it emerges from this helpless condition. Its first -recognition, its first smiles and playfulness, are all bewitching. What -can be more lovely? A few weeks pass, and it can sit alone; then it -begins to creep; now, with what absorbing interest the first steps are -watched, and commented upon with a pride and earnestness as if no child -ever did all these things before. The mother’s heart is overflowing -with love and tenderness; but God calls, and the lovely babe is forever -hid from her sight.</p> - -<p>How can she bear it? Whose sorrow was ever like unto hers? Why is -it that God has sent this trial? What lesson can be taught by it, -that will do half the good which that child’s presence would have -accomplished? What is there in the care, the anxieties of watching over -its maturing, which can be thought a hardship? How joyfully would this -mother bear all this, if the life of her child might have been spared! -She longs to lie down and die, not because of the responsibility which -she knows would have increased with every added year,—she could have -trusted her Father to give her strength sufficient for those duties. -Her faith and trust fail, because God took her child from her, and in -her anguish she cries, “Why am I thus bereaved?” In answer to these -sad questions we can only say, “What ye know not now ye shall know -hereafter.” In the first bitterness of this grief, there is nothing -more to be said.</p> - -<p>Another little one is given to soothe the mother. She watches it with -trembling heart, through all the stages that her first-born had passed. -Every unusual motion, every cry the child utters, fills her heart with -alarm; some fresh cause<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</span> for fear is found daily. But the little one -thrives, has reached and passed all the points of deep interest which -once before the mother watched with such pride. Now it begins to lisp -her name, and shortly its cunning prattle is the theme of constant -thought and conversation. When she rises in the morning,—at the table, -by the fireside,—it is again and again repeated, a many-times-told -tale, but always fresh, always new and beautiful. The mother has -nothing else with which to entertain the friends who call, and truly -believes that nothing could be told so new or so pleasing. In her -absorbing delight over each new grace and beauty that is day by day -developing, has she always remembered the Giver of her treasure? or, -has her love become idolatry?</p> - -<p>Again death enters, and just as the mother has begun to feel secure, -her darling is snatched away from her. In this hour of anguish, what -can comfort? Her heart rises up in rebellion, and she sees only cruelty -in this second stroke. In her despair she accuses God wrongfully. She -demands the reason why, “What evil have I done, that I am bereaved of -my children?” And friends can only weep with her, saying, “What ye know -not now ye shall know hereafter!”</p> - -<p>We grieve with you, poor stricken mother. We know every step of the -thorny road you are crossing; but do not allow these trials to make -your heart grow cold and bitter. You say, “I see nothing but injustice -in these dispensations which have left my home so desolate. Another -child has been given us, but I am trying to steel my heart against it, -for anything I love is taken from me.”</p> - -<p>This is all wrong. You say that your husband is kind, and bearing his -own sorrow for the loss of the little one silently, that he may comfort -you. Should you not remember that he has been equally bereaved, and may -need your sympathy?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</span> “Bear ye one another’s burdens,” and by so doing -will you not find strength to rise above this affliction, so far that -you can perform your duties with comfort, if not with cheerfulness? -You say you have no pleasure in the little one still left you. May -it not have been sent as a ministering spirit, to awaken in your -heart a deeper love and gratitude for the mercies that still surround -you, and bring you nearer to the Father, who often “wounds to heal, -afflicts to save”? There are trials harder to bear than those which -seem to have so nearly crushed you. When, instead of the prattle and -frolic of babyhood, the child becomes old enough to be taught how to -assist the mother in various ways,—begins to read and study, showing -a mind rapidly maturing, giving promise of no common strength of -character,—do you not see that it must become even more precious with -each new development? Yet when incurable disease fastens upon it, and -the parents see their bright and joyous child slowly but surely fading -from their home, is not this a heavier calamity than when our little -ones are taken from their cradles after only a few days of suffering?</p> - -<p>We have seen a mother for months hold back her tears, and minister to -the wants of the sufferer; and, hardest of all, sit by the bedside and -listen to the child’s anxious questionings,—soothing its fears, when -knowing that it is just entering the dark valley; singing of the peace -and joys that lie beyond; step by step, as death came nearer, leading -this child of her love down even to the banks of the “river that flows -close by the throne of God,” that when its timid feet touch the waters -she may herself almost lay the child into the Saviour’s arms, who is -waiting to receive and bless it. In this, cannot you imagine that there -is a depth of anguish which you have not yet fathomed? As our children -grow toward manhood and womanhood with promise of rich maturity, -does not our love grow with their growth, and strengthen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</span> with their -strength? When their education is just completed, and they are almost -ready to begin life’s work, if taken from us, is not the loss greater, -the desolation more appalling, than that which you have known?</p> - -<p>But your sorrow, though yet unsanctified, must be, to us, held sacred -from severe judgment. Nature will rule for a time, and may compel -utterance for which you can hardly be held responsible. We only -fear that your grief may become morbid and your heart refuse to see -the silver lining which may be discerned in every cloud. Why these -afflictions have been sent we cannot tell. Our Father sees when our -hearts have turned from their allegiance, and knows best what sharp -lessons will be necessary to bring us back to him. He may see that your -love has blinded you to the solemn duties that rest upon you, and to -save the children from the effects of injudicious indulgence, may have -taken them to himself, and by their loss design to draw you nearer.</p> - -<p>Some lines, sent us by Mrs. Crann, the author of “Little Foxes,” will -show you more clearly what we would convey than any words of ours:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“We sat within a lighted room,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">My baby boy and I;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But empty were my loving arms,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Where he was wont to lie</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And look up fondly in my face,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">For pretty toys were near;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And, though I called him lovingly,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">The darling would not hear.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“I yearned to clasp him to my heart,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">But wooed him all in vain;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To leave his play and come to me</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Would give him too much pain.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I took the candle in my hand,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And, with a breath of air,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Extinguished its soft, cheerful light,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And made all darkness there.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</span> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“And soon I heard a sweet-toned voice,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">To which I love to hark,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Cry, ‘Mother, take me in your arms!</div> - <div class="verse indent4">I’m frightened in the dark!’</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And then I caught the sweet boy up,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And felt him clasp me tight,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And knew that I was needed then,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Because there was no light.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“And as my darling grew in years,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">The brightness of my joy</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Made me adore our Father less</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Than I adored my boy.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">He called me in a tender tone,—</div> - <div class="verse indent4">His voice is always mild,—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But I refused to go to Him,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And played on with my child.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">“And then He blew my candle out</div> - <div class="verse indent4">By stopping Harry’s breath;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And in the anguish of that grief,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">The darkness of that death,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I cried out in a trembling voice,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And with an aching brow,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">‘I’m coming to thee, O my God!</div> - <div class="verse indent4">For my heart needs thee now.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXXXVII">LXXXVII.<br> -UNTIL DEATH DO US PART.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="dropcap">“A</span> WIFE” writes that she has three children; has been married eight -years, and thinks it would be pleasant to be relieved from all -home cares, and travel for a few months. Her mother would take her -children home, so that she could feel perfectly at ease about them, -but her husband objects. He cannot possibly go with her, and though -it would be much pleasanter to have him accompany her, yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</span> she could -go with friends, who would give her every attention. Her husband is -abundantly able to afford her this pleasure, but objects to her leaving -him,—“having his home broken up, and his children separated from him” -(sensible man!). “He endeavors to persuade her to be contented at home -until by and by he can take wife and children on this pleasure trip.”</p> - -<p>Now she declares that she has no faith in these <i>by and byes</i>, -with which husbands seek to keep their wives from enjoying the present, -by promises for the future. She thinks him unreasonably selfish, and -feels that she would be justified in cutting loose from such bondage -occasionally, and taking her pleasure, as she constantly sees so many -other ladies doing.</p> - -<p>We are pained with the whole tone of this letter, of which we give -but a few lines. Notwithstanding her complaints and fault-finding, -the writer cannot hide the fact that, from her own showing, she has a -pleasant home, an indulgent husband, and wealth sufficient to obviate -any necessity for labor or care, more than is required to superintend -her domestic affairs, and look after her children, as every mother and -housekeeper pledges herself to do when she enters the marriage state. -It is natural that her husband should object to her leaving him for -months, deprive him of his children, and disorganize his home, for her -own gratification.</p> - -<p>“<i>Until death do us part</i>,” the promise reads: not simply for a -few years, at the end of which time the whole domestic economy may -become deranged simply for personal pleasure, apart from the family.</p> - -<p>We see nothing that this dissatisfied woman has to complain of, but -are inclined to think she has been infected with those pernicious -doctrines which have led to loud complaints about women,—defrauded of -her <i>rights</i>, woman’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</span> cruel subjugation,—doctrines with which -we have less and less patience, because we see more and more clearly -the mistakes and mischief which have sprung and will continue to spring -from them, unless the “plague is stayed.” No doubt many a woman is -oppressed and treated unkindly, often cruelly, and made to feel that -she is placed by her husband in a subordinate position, instead of -reigning <i>with</i> him over their home,—his other self with equal -rights and power, as is only meet,—having charge of one department, -while he takes another for which his stronger organization and peculiar -masculine abilities are better adapted. The husband to superintend the -outside, severer duties: the wife as God prepared her to be, the mother -watching over infancy, and through those duties made less physically -strong, but giving grace and refinement to the home, which, without -her,—under masculine supervision,—would degenerate into coarseness -and inelegance.</p> - -<p>We know there are many overtaxed, broken-down women who by kindness and -just appreciation might have been saved, and remained altogether lovely -and refined, making their homes like Paradise before the fall.</p> - -<p>There are also many broken-down men, dispirited, uneasy of life, ruined -by the frivolity, irritability, and extravagance of their wives, whom -a refined, sensible, loving woman, would have redeemed and made happy, -noble, and godlike.</p> - -<p>We imagine the rights and the wrongs are about equally divided on -either side. The deceitfulness of the human heart, the natural -depravity, unsubdued, left to run wild and ungoverned, seeking -not the peace and happiness of the chosen partner, but their own -selfish gratification, has changed many a noble man into a reckless, -uncomfortable, unprincipled husband, or an arbitrary and harsh domestic -tyrant. And the same selfish indulgence and unregulated passions have -also changed many a woman, capable of shining in her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</span> appropriate -sphere as mother, or home refiner, into an irritable, unsatisfied -fireside torment.</p> - -<p>But this is wandering from the main point, through a train of thoughts -very naturally evoked by the perusal of the letter referred to. We -believe many homes are injured and much dissatisfaction and unhappiness -occasioned by the greatly increased disposition to travel; roaming -each year away from home, and too frequently without the companionship -which should naturally be secured. A man is often compelled by business -to be absent from home for weeks, or even months, to go abroad, and -frequently when it would be impossible for him to take his wife with -him. Often one <i>must</i> go for health, while it is important that -the other should remain at home to look after their common interests. -These are misfortunes which cannot be avoided, and must be borne from -necessity, not from choice.</p> - -<p>But when we see either <i>desiring</i> to roam, “to go a pleasuring” -alone, when both cannot go, we wonder at the folly which is laying the -foundation for bitter regret in later years. The marriage ceremony -is but a mockery, if the two who exchange vows are not expecting to -find their chief earthly joys in each other’s society. But when they -can bring their minds to a separation of weeks or months, just for -pleasure, we think they little dream of the heartaches they are laying -up in store for one another.</p> - -<p>Keep together while you can. Death will sever the bond, all too soon, -or sickness compel absence, full of fear and sad forebodings. It is -impossible for a husband and wife to be absent from each other often, -even for a few weeks at a time, without finding little changes on their -return. Every one has some peculiarities of character and disposition -which are not exactly congenial; but if married young, before habits -or traits are fixed past change, all these little infelicities are -softened or lost sight of in daily communion, and man and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</span> wife -assimilate, and grow more and more of one heart and one mind, if -happily mated. But let these separations, even of short duration, once -begin, and they soon grow apart. The natural traits and dissimilarities -which constant association have held dormant wake up, and are less and -less easily lulled to sleep after each separation.</p> - -<p>We think women are more injured by this roving than men. The latter -are seldom long absent, except on business, with no leisure for -pleasure-seeking while away; and in their necessarily rapid traveling, -the hurry, the annoyance, the loss of creature comforts, which are -found in greater perfection at home, are more felt, and usually the -comforts and luxuries of their own fireside are more fully appreciated -on their return. In the whirl of business while absent, they have -little temptation to take up any unusual line of thought or action. -But a woman, unless she <i>must</i> go for her health, more frequently -travels to have a “good time,” throwing aside all cares, instead of -taking them with her as her husband does. In this freedom, she at once -enters upon a mode of life altogether different from that which a wife, -mother, or housekeeper can have at home. Her love of nicety and order -is less disturbed when she has only herself to care for; and a selfish -habit, a feeling of entire independence, is easily established, so that -when she returns home she finds it difficult to take up again what was -once a pleasure, but now seems more like the “burden of life.” The -noise and confusion of children or much company, for the care of which -she feels responsible, are far more irksome than before her “pleasure -trip.” She does not find the yoke so easy or the burden so light. The -habit of being interested in or sharing one another’s cares, reporting -little items of daily news when together, is destroyed, and without -any intentional unkindness they have learned to turn to others for the -amusement or the social intercourse which was once a part of their -life.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</span></p> - -<p>These are not intentional <i>slights</i>, but the changes which -repeated absence most naturally brings. A woman sees the changes much -sooner than a man,—sees, grieves over them, and is made unhappy by -them, if she loves her husband, though often too proud to let it be -known. If <i>pleasure trips</i> are frequent or of long duration, -these changes are more marked. Husbands and wives, who were once made -uncomfortable and restless if one meal passed unshared, learn after -a while, by frequent separations, to let many pass with but little -regret. Separation has lost its former importance in their eyes. Why -should it not be so? If <i>death</i> divides them, however true the -sorrow, time after a while must bring healing; and the heart, although -there will always be a niche which no one else can occupy, must, after -many days, turn for comfort and companionship to other, if not better -friends. Sometimes, perhaps, in a younger and fairer, the old love is -entirely lost sight of.</p> - -<p>Let this discontented wife, who, after eight years of married life and -the care of home and three children, feels that she should be indulged -in a vacation and freedom from these responsibilities, ponder well the -probable consequences of the steps she desires to take in opposition -to her husband’s wishes. To secure the short-lived pleasure of a few -months’ travel, can she afford to risk the many changes she may expect -on her return? Will she be willing to see that her husband has less -confidence in her, less desire for her society, than formerly; that -he has learned that there are many comforts and pleasures to be found -outside his home? Is the gratification worth the price she may be -called to pay for it?</p> - -<p>We have not put this subject in as clear and strong a light as we -desired; but if what we have said may have sufficient weight to lead -this “wife,” and others who are showing indications of having been -infected with the same restless, dissatisfied spirit, to think long and -soberly before they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</span> decide, we shall be thankful. We do not believe a -true-hearted, sensible wife would willingly desert her post or seek any -enjoyment in which her family cannot share.</p> - -<p>Keep your families unbroken; together share each other’s joys and -sorrows, so far as possible, until death severs the bond. That is the -wisest, happiest way of living. When death compels separations, you -will have enough to regret, without mourning for the days needlessly -spent apart.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp65" id="image381" style="max-width: 53.1875em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/image381.png" alt=""> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="PART_II">PART II.<br> -CHOICE FAMILY RECEIPTS.</h2> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</span></p> -</div> - - -<h3>YEAST. -</h3> -<p><b>Yeast.</b>—Good yeast is indispensable in order to secure good -bread.</p> - -<p>Pare and boil eight medium-sized potatoes. Remove them from the water -when done, and put into it one small handful of <i>loose</i> or two -teaspoonfuls of <i>pressed</i> hops. While these are boiling, mash and -roll the potatoes very smooth, free from lumps; mix with them three -even table-spoonfuls of flour, a half cup of sugar,—brown sugar is the -best for yeast,—one even table-spoonful of ginger, and three of salt. -Strain out the hops after boiling fifteen minutes, and pour the boiling -water over the potatoes, flour, etc. Stir well together, and again set -it on the range or stove till it boils up once, stirring it all the -time, or it will burn. This done, pour it into a large earthen bowl or -stone pot to cool. When blood-warm, add one penny’s worth of bakers’ -yeast or a yeast-cake. Keep in a warm place till well raised, then put -it into a stone jug; cork and tie down securely.</p> - -<p>One teacupful will raise three good-sized loaves.</p> - -<p><b>Another.</b>—Take one pint of the water in which the potatoes for -dinner were boiled; while it is boiling hot, thicken with flour; add a -cup of yeast when the batter is cool. Set the jar in which it is made -in a warm place, and it will be light in a few hours and ready to use.</p> - -<p><b>Yeast-Cakes.</b>—Pour a pint of boiling water over a teaspoonful of -hops; let it stand ten or fifteen minutes, then strain the water into -a saucepan; heat it boiling hot, stir in flour enough to make a stiff -batter, and set it aside to cool. When lukewarm, put in a teacupful of -good yeast, or a yeast-cake softened in water. Set in a warm place to -rise. When light, add a teaspoonful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</span> of salt, two table-spoonfuls of -molasses or sugar, and a little soda. Then mix in corn meal to make it -stiff enough to roll into a long round roll. Cut it in slices about -half an inch thick, spread meal over your board, and lay these cakes -to dry. Turn them frequently while drying, and, if possible, get them -dried in two or three days, or they may become sour. It is well to dry -them in the air, but not in the sun. Put them in bags in a dry place; -and when you use one soak it in milk-warm water.</p> - - -<h3>BREAD. -</h3> -<p><b>General Rules.</b>—Five quarts of flour and one quart of milk or -water are sufficient for two loaves in quart-pans.</p> - -<p>Rub shortening, salt, and potatoes, if used, into the flour before -wetting it. The milk or water for wetting should be about milk-warm, -and the yeast be stirred into part of the wetting for the sponge, or -into the whole, if the bread is to be made without sponging; then pour -it on the flour and knead.</p> - -<p><b>Bread without Sponging.</b>—Sift five quarts of flour, cover and -set by the fire to dry. Pare and boil five medium-sized potatoes. -When done, drain them dry from the water and sprinkle over them a -teaspoonful of salt. Mash perfectly smooth and free from lumps, adding -an even table-spoonful of sugar, and rub all together, till potatoes -and flour are perfectly combined. Take a pint of the water in which -the potatoes were boiled, and a little more than a pint of milk, and -when blood-warm stir into it one cup of home-made or a cent’s worth -of bakers’ yeast. Pour it on the flour and potatoes, and knead the -whole together without sponging. All bread should be kneaded a full -half-hour, then covered with a clean bread-cloth, and over that a -bread-blanket, and set in a warm place to rise. If mixed overnight it -will be ready for the second molding before breakfast; then make into -loaves and put into the pans for the second and last rising. When light -let it be well baked, but not long enough to make it hard and dry. When -done, take from the pans, wrap a bread-cloth round each loaf, and turn -upper side down into the pans, leaving it there till cold. This will -help to make the crust tender.</p> - -<p><b>Good Bread.</b>—Put what flour will be needed for two or four -loaves, according to the size of your family, into your bread bowl<span class="pagenum" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</span> -or pan. Make a hole in the middle, pressing the flour compactly -towards the sides of the pan; then pour in sufficient boiling water to -thoroughly scald and wet about one half of the flour. When cool, stir -in one cupful of lively domestic yeast or a cent’s worth of bakers’, -or, if you prefer, a small cake of dried yeast previously soaked in -warm water. Set it near the stove or in a warm place in cool weather, -cover closely just before retiring at night, and it will be light by -morning, when a teaspoonful of salt and enough more warm, but not hot, -water to wet all the flour must be added; knead it very thoroughly, and -set it to rise again. When light, work it again, and put in the pans to -rise for the last time, and as soon as it is light bake in a moderately -heated oven. If the oven is too hot at first, the bread is apt to get -brown on top and bottom too soon, and then it will not be done in the -middle. A moderate oven at first is best, increasing the heat gradually -until the bread is about half done, when it should be of a steady heat -till the bread is done.</p> - -<p><b>Bread with Sponging.</b>—Stir into three quarts of milk-warm water -one even table-spoonful of salt, and flour enough to make a soft -batter. To this add the yeast above mentioned, or, in warm weather, use -only half as much. Set the pan in a warm place in cold weather, and -cover closely with a clean bread-cloth. Make this sponge at bedtime. -If the sponge is at all sour in the morning, dissolve a teaspoonful of -soda in a little water and stir in; then work in as much flour as is -needed to mold it easily, and knead it thoroughly. Make it into small -loaves, and see that the pans are well buttered and warmed when used. -Keep them in a warm place, and cover with a clean white bread-cloth. -If properly cared for, it will be light in an hour, and ready for the -oven, which must be well heated. In baking bread or cake, care should -be taken that the top does not brown too soon, as that will prevent its -rising up light, as it otherwise would. If this makes too many loaves, -it is easy to make only half or one third the quantity.</p> - -<p><b>To make Bread from Flour that runs.</b>—Put what flour you need in -your pan, and pour enough boiling water over to just wet all of it, but -not to make it thin; sprinkle in a teaspoonful of salt and a spoonful -of butter; stir it up with a large wooden spoon until sure that all the -flour is scalded; then cover<span class="pagenum" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</span> and let it stand till cool enough to add -the yeast. So that the yeast is sweet and lively, you can use any kind -you prefer, bakers’ or home-made. When the flour is sufficiently cool, -clear to the bottom, add your yeast, and give the whole mass a faithful -kneading, adding more tepid milk or water, if needed. Knead till the -dough cleaves from your hand easily, then set it to rise. When very -light, knead again, put into the pans, and leave it to rise once more; -then bake as directed above.</p> - -<p>By this method <i>running</i> flour can often be conquered, and bread -thus scalded will be found uncommonly sweet and tender.</p> - -<p><b>Bread by Scalding the Flour.</b>—Pour enough boiling water on two -quarts of flour to wet it thoroughly; add two even table-spoonfuls of -butter; stir all well together, and let it stand till cool; then add a -small cup of domestic yeast, or not quite a penny’s worth of bakers’ -yeast; mold it fifteen minutes, then set by the fire to rise. When it -begins to crack on top, put it on the molding-board, beat it with the -rolling-pin, and chop and mold alternately for twenty minutes; then -make into loaves, prick them on top, and set them by the fire to rise -once more. As soon as light, bake. Bread made in this way is not quite -so white, but is very sweet and light. If flour is at all inclined to -“run,” the scalding will stop it.</p> - -<p><b>To make Stale Bread fresh.</b>—Put the loaf into a clean tin, and -cover closely to exclude all water, and set into a steamer or a kettle -of boiling water for half an hour; then remove it from the tin and it -will look like fresh bread, and be really almost equal to a new loaf.</p> - -<p><b>Graham Bread.</b>—Two quarts of unbolted wheat, half a cent’s -worth of bakers’ yeast, or half a teacup of home-made yeast; two -table-spoonfuls of molasses, one even teaspoonful of salt, and warm -water or milk and water enough to make a stiff dough. Beat this well, -or, wetting your hands in water, mix it very thoroughly; cover closely, -and let it rise light,—about six hours in warm weather, or in winter -mix just before going to bed. When it is light, wet your hands in cold -water and put it into well-buttered pans. Let it rise in the pans about -an inch; an hour will generally be long enough. Bake an hour and a -half, or until it is very well baked, but not scorched.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</span></p> - -<p>Or, take three small cups of the sponge from your wheat bread; when -well risen add to it two spoonfuls of molasses, half a teacup of Indian -meal, one teaspoonful of salt, and half a pint of warm milk and water; -stir in enough Graham flour to make a stiff dough, and cover closely -and set to rise. When light, fill your pans half full; let it rise once -more, and bake carefully.</p> - -<p>Or, pour boiling water over one quart of Graham flour; add a -teaspoonful of salt, three table-spoonfuls of molasses. Let it stand -till lukewarm; then add half a cup of home-made yeast, or part of a -penny’s worth of bakers’ yeast; dip your hands in cold water, and mix -it thoroughly. If too stiff, add more warm water. If too thin, mix in -more flour. It should not be so stiff as for fine flour bread. Let it -rise light; then put it into well-buttered pans to rise again. When -light, bake one hour. It requires a hotter oven and needs to bake -longer than other bread.</p> - -<p>Or, one quart of flour, one teaspoonful of salt, three table-spoonfuls -of molasses, and two table-spoonfuls of yeast; wet with warm water, -or warm milk and water, till as thick as pound-cake. If wanted -for breakfast, let it stand overnight. When ready to bake, add a -well-beaten egg and a teaspoonful of soda; put into buttered pans and -bake well.</p> - -<p>Or, one quart of buttermilk or sour milk, soda enough to make it foam, -and while foaming pour it on the Graham flour, stirring it together -quickly. The flour should be all ready in the pan, and one teaspoonful -of salt, and a scant half-teacup of molasses stirred into it before the -soda is put to the buttermilk. Make it as thick as pound-cake; bake -immediately one hour with a steady hot fire; add a well-beaten egg if -in a hurry for your bread, as it will bake sooner, and we think be -lighter for it.</p> - -<p><b>Steamed Brown Bread.</b>—One cup of Indian meal, two cups of rye, -one cup of molasses, two cups of milk, a half-teaspoonful of soda, the -same of salt. Stir well together and steam in some of the new “boilers” -or “cookers” or “steamers” three hours; taking care that the water does -not stop boiling. Add boiling water as the water boils away. If you -wish it hot for breakfast, steam the day before, and in the morning set -it in the oven for half an hour to form a good crust.</p> - -<p><b>Corn Bread.</b>—Sift two cups of Indian meal overnight; pour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</span> on it -just enough really <i>boiling</i> water to moisten or wet it through; -cover it up and let it stand till morning; then add one cup of flour in -which an even teaspoonful of cream of tartar has been sifted. Dissolve -half a teaspoonful of soda in one cup of sweet milk, and stir with the -meal and flour; add half a small cup of sugar; beat two eggs—yelks and -whites separately—and put in the last thing. Bake in a quick oven.</p> - -<p><b>Rice Bread</b> (<i>Southern Receipt</i>).—One pint of rice flour, -half a pint of wheat flour, one pint of sour milk, two eggs, butter -half the size of an egg, and one teaspoonful of soda. The rice flour -must be very fine, and stirred in after the other ingredients are -partly mixed. Bake as soon as possible after the whole is stirred -together.</p> - -<p>Bread is sometimes made of <i>apple</i> mixed with flour, by putting -one third of stewed apple-pulp to two thirds of flour, and fermenting -with yeast for twelve hours. This bread is said to be light and very -palatable. It is much used in France.</p> - - -<h3>BISCUIT. -</h3> -<p><b>Morning Biscuit.</b>—One quart of flour, half a teaspoonful of -salt, two table-spoonfuls of yeast, and one pint of sour milk, with -half a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in it. Work this into a dough; -then rub into the dough half a cup of butter. Knead well; cut off small -bits; shape them into biscuits; lay them in the bake-pan, cover closely -with a bread-cloth, and let them stand overnight in a warm place in -winter and a cool place in summer. Bake in the morning for breakfast.</p> - -<p><b>Tea Biscuit.</b>—Peel and boil four potatoes of medium size. -When done, mash and roll them smooth and perfectly free from lumps, -sprinkling a table-spoonful of salt over them. Put to the potatoes -a half-pint of the water in which they were boiled, a half-pint of -milk, and a table-spoonful of sugar. Stir into this sufficient flour -to make it a stiff batter. When cool, add half a penny’s worth of -bakers’ yeast, or half a teacup of home-made yeast. Cover over with a -bread-cloth and blanket. In cold weather leave this sponge in a warm -place overnight to rise. In the summer, make it early in the morning. -When this is risen until quite foamy, soften—but do not melt—two -thirds of a teacupful of butter, and beat it into the sponge, together -with two<span class="pagenum" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</span> eggs, yelks and whites beaten separately; add flour to make -it stiff enough to mold,—the softer it can be worked the better it -will be. Knead it half an hour, then cover and set it to rise. When -light, knead and <i>chop</i> the dough at least fifteen minutes. This -done, return it to the bread-bowl, again cover closely, and set to -rise. When light, repeat the kneading; let it rise the second time, -when it should be worked down and set on the ice in the ice-box, until -within an hour of tea-time; then it must be again molded, rolled out, -cut into small biscuits, pricked on the top, put into a bake-pan, -covered over, and set to rise on a bench, near the stove, twenty -minutes or half an hour. When light, set the biscuits into an evenly -heated oven, and bake quickly to a delicate brown. When done, cover -over with a bread-cloth for a short time before removing from the pan, -to soften the crust.</p> - -<p><b>Soda Biscuit.</b>—Put two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar into one -quart of flour; sift both together and rub in thoroughly two great -spoonfuls of butter. Put one teaspoonful of soda into a table-spoonful -of cold water, and stir till all is dissolved, then put it into a pint -of cold water and pour it on the flour. Stir together quickly; if it -cannot be rolled out, add a little more flour, but just as little as -it is possible to roll out the biscuits with. Cut in shape and bake -immediately. The great secret of making good soda biscuit is to sift -the soda with the flour, to have it thoroughly dissolved, the dough -made as thin and as quickly as possible, and baked immediately.</p> - -<p><b>Indian-Corn Biscuit.</b>—One quart of corn meal, one pint of wheat -flour, sifted together, and stirred into three pints of milk; add a -teaspoonful of salt. Beat four eggs, the yelks and whites separately, -as for sponge-cakes. First stir the yelks into the batter; then add the -whites, and a small teaspoonful of soda, the last thing. Have ready -buttered some cups or small pans; nearly fill them with the batter, and -set into the hot oven immediately. Bake fast, turn from the cups as -soon as done, and serve immediately. They should puff up so as to more -than fill the cups.</p> - -<p><b>Parker House Rolls.</b>—Two quarts flour, one large spoonful of -lard, small teaspoonful of salt, one pint boiled milk,—set aside till -cold,—half cup sugar, half cup yeast. Make a hole in center of the -flour, put in milk, etc., and let it rise overnight. In the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</span> morning -knead it well, and let it rise till noon; then cut it into long, narrow -rolls and let it rise till tea-time. Bake.</p> - -<p><b>Rusk.</b>—Three coffee-cups new milk, three eggs, one teacup -butter, one teacup sugar, one of yeast, and flour enough for batter. -When the batter has well risen, work in more flour, but mix it rather -soft; let it rise once more, quite light, but be careful that it does -not sour; then make it out into rolls or biscuits; let it stand again -a short time, and bake in a moderately hot oven; fifteen or twenty -minutes should cook them.</p> - -<p><b>Sweet Potato Buns.</b>—Boil and mash two good-sized potatoes; rub -in as much flour as will make it like bread; add a little nutmeg and -one table-spoonful of sugar, with a table-spoonful of good yeast. When -it has risen, work in two table-spoonfuls of butter, and soften so as -to be easily mixed thoroughly with the dough; then form into small -rolls, and, when raised the second time, bake on tins a nice brown. -<i>Serve hot.</i></p> - -<p><b>Potato Pone.</b>—Pare and grate on a large grater sweet potatoes -enough to make one quart of grated potato. Stir to this one pint of -sweet milk, two eggs, two thirds of a cup of butter, and enough sugar -to make it as sweet as plain cake; season with ginger. Bake till well -done. Eat, hot or cold, with butter. If desired to be light colored, -put the potatoes into cold water as soon as pared, and when ready grate -into the milk. If dark-colored pone is preferred, sweeten with molasses -and season with allspice. This is very rich made like pound-cake, using -one and a half pounds of grated potato in place of flour.</p> - -<p><b>Gems.</b>—Break into a quart of milk four eggs (two will answer) -without beating, stir in flour till as thick as waffles. Beat till -smooth, and fill the “gem” pans half full. Bake quick in a hot oven. No -salt, soda, or cream of tartar.</p> - -<p>The “gem” pans should be well buttered, and set into the oven to get -quite hot while the batter is being prepared, and when you are filling -them, set the pan on the top of the range to keep it hot. When filled, -set them immediately in the oven.</p> - -<p><b>Gems, No. 2.</b>—Drop four eggs, without beating, into a quart of -milk; add two great spoonfuls of melted butter, and beat in flour until -as thick as waffles. Pour into hot buttered gem pans, and bake like the -first.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</span></p> - -<p><b>Graham Gems.</b>—Drop one egg into a quart of milk or water. Stir -in Graham flour until as stiff as waffles. Pour into hot, buttered -gem pans, and bake quickly. Or add to the above one table-spoonful of -melted butter; they will be tenderer.</p> - -<p>In all measures the spoon, cup, or tin should never be heaped, but even -full.</p> - - -<h3>BREAKFAST AND TEA CAKES. -</h3> -<p><b>Corn Cakes.</b>—Rub one table-spoonful of lard into four cups -of corn meal. Stir the meal into four cups of sour milk, with a -teaspoonful of salt. Beat two eggs very light, and put in one -teaspoonful of soda, the last thing. Beat well, and bake in small gem -irons, or light tin forms.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—Three teacups of corn meal, one teacup of wheat -flour, two teacups of milk, one teacup of cream, or a third of a teacup -of butter, three table-spoonfuls of sugar, one egg,—beat yelk and -white separately, and very light; one teaspoonful of salt, and half a -teaspoonful of soda. Bake in small pans, with a brisk heat.</p> - -<p><b>Another.</b>—Sift two cups of meal, pour over it one teacup of -boiling milk, stir it up well, and let it stand all night if intended -for breakfast. The next morning add one cup of wheat flour, one of -sugar, a half cup of butter, the well-beaten yelks of two eggs; add, if -needed, more milk, so as to make it as thin as waffles. Take one scant -teaspoonful of soda; the whites of the eggs, beaten stiff, to be added -the last. Pour into a well-buttered pan and bake about twenty-five -minutes, in a well-heated oven, but not scorching hot. If Jewell’s -Prepared Flour is used, no soda need be added. If correctly prepared -and well baked, this is excellent. If you have sweet apples, three -or four chopped very fine, added, and two thirds of a cup of finely -chopped suet, instead of butter, is a very great improvement.</p> - -<p><b>Another.</b>—One cupful of flour, two cupfuls of corn meal, two -great spoonfuls of sugar, not quite half a cupful of butter, one cupful -of milk, two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar, sifted with the meal and -flour, and a small teaspoonful of soda; two eggs, whites and yelks well -beaten separately; the yelks mixed with the milk and meal, and the -whites added, the last thing.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</span></p> - -<p><b>Steamed Johnny-Cake.</b>—One pint of sour cream, one teaspoonful -of soda, and one of salt. Stir in three table-spoonfuls of flour; then -add corn meal enough to make a stiff batter. Beat one egg, and add to -the batter; stir all carefully together, and pour into a well-buttered -tin basin; set this into a bread-steamer, and keep the steam up for an -hour, or more if the loaf is large. Serve with cream and sugar.</p> - -<p><b>Corn-Meal Cake with Apples and Suet.</b>—One pint scalded milk, or -a half cup cream, or a pint of sour milk, one teacupful suet chopped -fine, a table-spoonful sugar, a teaspoonful salt, six good-sized sweet -apples chopped fine, three eggs well beaten, and a small teaspoonful of -soda. Beat thoroughly, and bake in a shallow tin pan.</p> - -<p><b>Muffins.</b>—One pint of milk, one table-spoonful of butter, one -pint of flour, a small teaspoonful of salt, three eggs, whites and -yelks beaten separately and very stiff, a small even teaspoonful of -soda; add the whites last, beat smartly and perfectly free from lumps. -Butter the griddle, and bake in well-buttered rings. When the bottom -is done, turn over the rings and bake the top, or put the rings on a -well-buttered bake-pan and bake in a quick oven. We think them lighter -and better so baked.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—One quarter of a pound of butter, one teaspoonful -salt, three eggs, one pint sweet milk, one quart flour, a heaping -table-spoon of brewers’ yeast, or two of home-made yeast. Melt the -butter and put into the milk, beat the eggs and put them also into the -milk, then stir in flour and add the yeast. If for breakfast, set them -to rise overnight. If at all sour, add half-teaspoonful of soda. Bake -in well-buttered rings in a quick oven.</p> - -<p><b>Cream Muffins.</b>—One quart rich milk, or, if you can get it, -half cream and half milk; one quart of flour heaping, six eggs, one -table-spoonful of butter, one of lard; softened together. Beat whites -and yelks separately very light; then add flour and shortening and -a scant teaspoonful of salt, and stir in the flour the last thing, -lightly as possible, and have the batter free from lumps. Half fill -your well-buttered muffin-rings, and bake immediately in a <i>hot</i> -oven, or your muffins will not be good. Send to table the moment they -are done.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—One teacup sour cream, two eggs, one -half-teaspoonful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</span> of soda, thickened with flour about as stiff as -waffles. Bake in a quick oven.</p> - -<p><b>Raised Muffins.</b>—One quart milk, a halfpenny’s worth of bakers’ -yeast or half cup of home-made yeast, two table-spoonfuls white sugar, -one of butter (lard will answer, but is not as good), one teaspoonful -of salt, two eggs well beaten, and flour sufficient to make a stiff -batter.</p> - -<p>Make the batter overnight, leaving out the eggs. In the morning beat -the eggs, yelks and whites separately, very light, and stir into the -well-risen batter. Have the muffin-rings well greased, fill half full -with the batter, and bake twenty minutes in a quick oven. Serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>Hominy Muffins.</b>—Wash a pint of small hominy through two or -three waters, pour boiling water on it, cover, and let it soak for -several hours. Then put it into a farina-kettle with half a pint of -boiling water. Let it boil until soft enough to mash; drain it and mix -it well with a pint of white corn meal or wheat flour, a little salt, -and a pint and one half of milk in which two table-spoonfuls of butter -have been melted. When nearly cold, add four table-spoonfuls of yeast; -cover it, and set it in a warm place until very light, with the surface -covered with bubbles. Butter some muffin-rings, set them on a hot -griddle, pour into each a portion of the mixture, and bake them brown -on both sides. Send them to table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Quick Muffins.</b>—Two teacups buttermilk, one of thick cream, or, -if none, three even table-spoonfuls of melted butter, four eggs, half a -teaspoonful of soda; thicken with prepared flour as thick as waffles.</p> - -<p><b>Graham Flour Muffins.</b>—One pint of sour milk, a small -teaspoonful of soda, one table-spoonful of sugar, and Graham flour -sufficient to make a thick batter. Bake in rings, or drop the batter in -spoonfuls on a flat tin. Add a little salt before baking.</p> - -<p><b>Raised Waffles.</b>—One pint of sweet milk, a heaping teacup -of butter, three eggs (yelks and whites beaten separately), a -table-spoonful of thick brewers’ yeast or a halfpenny’s worth of -bakers’, one quart of flour, one quarter of a teaspoonful of soda -dissolved in one teacup of sweet milk; beat all together, and let it -rise till very light, and then bake. Serve hot, with butter and sugar, -or plain, according to taste.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</span></p> - -<p><b>Corn-Meal Waffles.</b>—Pour over one pint of corn meal, -<i>twice</i> sifted, one pint of boiling milk. Put in one -table-spoonful of butter, one of flour, and a teaspoonful of salt. Let -this stand till cold; then add half a teaspoonful of soda, dissolved -in a little cold water; the yelks of two eggs well beaten, the whites -whisked very light and stiff to be added the last thing, when just -ready to bake.</p> - -<p>Put a brown paper over bread, biscuit, or cake when first set into a -hot oven, else the top will most likely brown and form a crust before -they rise sufficiently, and thus make them tough or heavy.</p> - -<p><b>Buckwheat Cakes.</b>—One quart of buckwheat flour, mix with -lukewarm water rather thicker than you will wish it when ready to -bake. A cup of Graham meal added is, we think, an improvement. Stir -in half a cup of family yeast, or a halfpenny’s worth of bakers’, -and a teaspoonful of salt; mix in an earthen bowl or a large earthen -pitcher,—the latter is the most convenient, as the batter can be -poured from the lip of the pitcher more neatly than it can be dipped -out of a bowl; set it where it will keep warm all night. The batter -should be made early in the evening, as it takes fully ten hours -in winter to rise; when ready to bake in the morning, beat half a -teaspoonful of soda into a great spoonful of molasses, and stir into -the batter, adding also enough lukewarm water to make it thin enough -to fry; bake quick; the thinner the cakes can be baked the better they -will be.</p> - -<p><b>Rice Griddle-Cakes.</b>—Half a teacupful of whole rice, three eggs, -half a pint of rich milk, and half a teaspoonful of salt. Cook the rice -till every grain is dissolved and like jelly. Warm the milk a little, -and beat the rice in it till it is smoothly mixed. When the eggs are -beaten very light, add to the rice and milk; then the salt. Bake on -a hot, greased griddle till brown and light. If the batter does not -adhere, add another egg, but no flour.</p> - -<p><b>Sour-Milk Griddle-Cakes.</b>—Stir into one quart of sour milk -enough flour to make the batter as thick as waffles; add an even -teaspoonful of salt and two well-beaten eggs. Dissolve an even -teaspoonful of soda, and beat in when ready for frying. This is very -good baked in waffle-irons.</p> - -<p><b>Green-Corn Fritters.</b>—One pint grated corn, one small cup<span class="pagenum" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</span> -butter, one egg, a teaspoonful salt, one table-spoonful flour, a little -pepper. Drop on a buttered pan and bake or fry ten minutes.</p> - -<p><b>Mock Oyster Fritters.</b>—Grate one dozen raw ears of corn; -after grating, scrape or wring all the milk from the cob; half a -table-spoonful flour; season with pepper and salt; beat the yelks of -three eggs very thick, and stir into the grated corn; whisk the whites -to a stiff froth, and add the last thing. Drop a dessert-spoonful at a -time on a hot, buttered griddle, and fry of a light brown on both sides.</p> - -<p><b>Corn Oysters.</b>—One quart grated corn, three eggs well beaten, -one small teaspoonful salt, and a little pepper, with just flour -enough to make the corn hold together. Drop from a spoon into hot -butter, making cakes about the size of an oyster. Sour milk, with a -half-teaspoonful of soda, will answer if eggs are not plenty.</p> - -<p><b>Rice Cakes.</b>—One cup cold boiled rice rubbed into a quart -of milk, one pint of flour, a teaspoonful of salt, two eggs beaten -very light. Beat all free from lumps. Bake as soon as made, on a -well-greased griddle.</p> - -<p><b>Rice or Hominy Cakes.</b>—Warm one quart of sweet milk, and rub -into it two cups of boiled rice or hominy; throw in a little salt, and -add enough wheat flour to bind the rice, or to make the batter as thick -as waffles. Beat two eggs and add to the batter, and half a teaspoonful -of soda, unless you use the prepared flour. If you do, there will be no -salt or soda needed.</p> - -<p><b>Rosie’s Sally Lunn.</b>—One spoonful of butter, one of sugar, -one egg, one pint of milk, one quart of flour, with two teaspoonfuls -of cream of tartar sifted with the flour, and one teaspoonful of -soda added the last thing. This is an excellent breakfast-cake, as -well as tea-cake, and is sometimes varied by stirring in a pint of -whortleberries.</p> - -<p><b>Strawberry Shortcake.</b>—Rub into a pint and a half of Jewell’s -Prepared Flour one teacup of butter; beat one egg very light; add milk -to make a soft dough; divide in three parts; roll out lightly, lay one -portion on a pie-plate or tin, sprinkle a little flour on the top, then -add the second cake, a little flour on the top of that, and cover with -the third. Bake quickly, but not too brown. Let the berries stand with -sugar sprinkled over them till the cake is baked, then pull the thin -portions of cake apart;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</span> spread half of the berries over the bottom -cake, adding more sugar and a little butter; lay the second over them, -and put on the remainder of the berries with more sugar and butter, -placing the top cake over all. Put it in the oven for a few minutes to -heat through, and send to the table hot.</p> - -<p>When wishing an extra nice strawberry cake for tea, beat the whites of -two eggs with a cup of white sugar till stiff, and add to it half of -a grated cocoa-nut, and spread over the cake. If you have no prepared -flour, sift two small teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar with the flour; -dissolve one small teaspoonful of soda in milk, and add the last thing -before mixing the cake.</p> - -<p><b>Cream Toast.</b>—Put a pint of rich, sweet cream over the stove -in the farina-kettle, and while heating toast thin slices of stale -bread quickly on both sides, taking care that they do not scorch. -Wet two table-spoonfuls of flour in cold milk; stir it smooth; add a -teaspoonful of salt, and when the cream is scalding hot, put in the -flour, stirring all the time till it thickens; then take the kettle -from the fire. Have ready a dish of salt and water, hot, and dip each -piece of the toasted bread into it, but only for a moment. Remove -quickly to the toast-dish, and dip over it a liberal supply of the -thickened cream; then cut more bread and lay into the dish, then more -cream, till all is used, letting the cream be the last. If you have no -cream, boil and thicken some sweet milk; put in an even teaspoonful -of salt, two table-spoonfuls of butter, and, when done, add one or -two well-beaten eggs the last thing; stir for a few minutes till well -united with the boiling milk, and then pour over the bread.</p> - - -<h3>SOUPS.</h3> - -<p><b>General Directions.</b>—Before giving some receipts for -<i>soups</i>, we wish first to remind our young housekeepers that it -is important for them to bear in mind the necessity and economy of -keeping good <i>stock</i> constantly on hand. The French stock-pot -is always in readiness to receive every bone, coarse or refuse bit -of meat not suitable to use for the main dish or for side-dishes. -We understand that the French use earthenware for this purpose -and also for “soup-digesters.” It would be a benefaction if our -house-furnishing merchants would import some of these “soup-digesters”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</span> -and “stock-pots,” as they are far better than metal. But until we can -procure such, the <i>stock</i>, as fast as made, should be strained -into a large stone pot, and when cold, all the grease that rises and -hardens on top must be removed, clarified, and set aside for cooking -purposes. Aside from the economy of using all refuse meat and bones for -stock, and the convenience of having it always ready for use, the soup -will be better if the stock is made at least the day before, because -one can then easily remove all the grease,—an important item in -preparing good soups.</p> - -<p><b>Stock for Soups.</b>—Buy a knuckle of beef or veal. Have the bone -well cracked in small pieces. Put it in the soup-digester, or, if you -have none, in a closely covered iron pot. For a medium-size piece, add -five or six quarts of <i>cold water</i> (by using cold water you will -secure all the juices, whereas in hot water half the juice is retained -in the meat). Let it come to a boil before you add salt or pepper; then -season it to suit your taste, and if agreeable put in a small bit of -red pepper. Set the kettle on the back part of the stove after it once -commences to boil, and keep it gently simmering all day; then strain it -from the bones and meat, which are now worthless, into a pot kept for -the purpose. Never throw away bones that are left from baked, boiled, -or roast meat of any kind, or from steak, poultry, anything, (except -those taken off the plates); dried or gristly bits of meat may also be -used to prepare stock for soup; and in a large family sufficient can be -gleaned that would otherwise be thrown into the swill to keep stock on -hands for weeks, without buying a bone for that purpose alone. When the -stock is strained off, set it in the cellar to cool. The next morning -carefully remove all the grease that has risen to the top and hardened, -and you will have a clear, rich stock ready for use. Clarify the grease -removed from the stock by slicing a raw potato into it, and set it over -the fire in a skillet till it boils; then strain it from the potato, -and you have fine dripping for many purposes.</p> - -<p><b>Tomato Soup.</b>—Use stock from beef, ham, veal, or any other bones -or refuse meat. Put two or three quarts into your soup-kettle,—the -size of your family must determine the quantity,—cut in one carrot, -one small onion, if agreeable, a little celery or fresh parsley; add -salt, pepper, and herbs to suit the taste, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</span> then make the stock -thick with tomatoes,—fresh from the vine are much the best; a spoonful -or two of star maccaroni is an improvement, or rice or pearl barley, if -you have either at hand. Let it boil two hours.</p> - -<p><b>Another.</b>—Take bones or bits of meat left from any dish, and -boil well to extract all nutriment, then strain; or, if you have -none on hand, make a rich stock, put in cabbage, carrots, parsnips, -or any other vegetables you like; boil till well done, then add the -tomatoes,—a dozen fresh, or half a can of winter tomatoes; boil twenty -minutes, then strain and serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>A Vegetable Soup.</b>—Peel and slice six large onions and four -turnips; fry them in one quarter of a pound of butter, and then pour -over them four quarts of boiling water. Toast a good-sized crust of -bread hard and brown (but take care that it is not burned at all), and -put into the soup, with a little celery; sweet herbs, salt, and pepper -to suit your taste. Stew gently four hours, stirring often to prevent -it from scorching; strain through a coarse cloth or strainer, when it -has cooked the four hours. Have ready a little thinly sliced carrot, -turnip, and celery,—a few slices of each will be sufficient,—put -these into the soup after straining it; return to the fire and stew -till these last vegetables are tender. A spoonful or two of tomato -catsup will improve it for some people.</p> - -<p>We have not tried this soup, but were told by an excellent housekeeper -that it was capital. We demurred at the quantity of tomato and onion, -but judge the long time given to cook the soup may combine and -incorporate the different flavors so as to make it quite palatable.</p> - -<p><b>Mock-Turtle Soup.</b>—Take a calf’s head dressed with the skin -on,—the fresher the better. Take out and lay aside the brains. After -washing it several times in a plentiful supply of cold water, soak -in cold spring water. Then put it into your soup-kettle or digester, -adding two quarts more of cold water than is needed to cover it, and -place over the stove or range. There should be about two gallons of -water in all. As it begins to heat, a large amount of scum will rise to -the top. Watch this carefully, and skim it off as fast as it rises. Let -it boil one hour, or till the meat can be easily removed from the bone, -when it should be taken from the liquor,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</span> and when nearly cold cut from -the bones in neat pieces about an inch square. The tongue may be cut -up in small pieces with the meat, or cut up and mixed with the brains -for a side-dish. The skin of the head is the best part, and should be -cut up carefully, leaving as much fat adhering to it as you can. As -soon as the head is taken up, put to the broth in which it was boiled -a five-pound knuckle of veal and the same amount of lean beef, adding -all the bones and trimmings of the head; a half-dozen cloves, a quarter -of an ounce of allspice, and the same of whole black pepper; boil five -hours, skim well, and keep closely covered. Then strain and set aside -till morning, when all the fat must be removed, and two quarts of this -stock reserved. Now put in a large saucepan, over the fire, half a -pound of good fresh butter, six ounces of onions, sliced, quarter of an -ounce of green sage, chopped. Let these fry one hour slowly. Be careful -that it does not scorch. Then rub in half a pound of flour by degrees, -gradually adding the broth, till of the thickness of rich cream. -Season with salt to your taste; half an ounce of lemon peel, grated. -Let it simmer again gently an hour and a half, and strain through a -hair-sieve or tamis. Don’t <i>rub</i> the soup through the sieve, it -will make it muddy. If it does not run through easily, knock a wooden -spoon against the side of the sieve; that will start it through without -the sediment, which would go through if rubbed. Put the stock, when -strained, into a clean stew-pot with the pieces of the head; and to -each gallon of soup have a pint of nice claret, if you wish it dark, -madeira or sherry, if you prefer it light (those who object to wine or -brandy in <i>mince</i>-pies must be careful not to call for turtle or -mock-turtle soup at restaurants), two table-spoonfuls of lemon-juice, -and two of catsup, one of the essence of anchovy, a teaspoonful of -curry powder, or quarter of a drachm of cayenne. Let it simmer till -the meat is tender, taking care that it is not done too much, and by -frequent stirring prevent its sticking. When the meat is quite tender, -serve the soup with force-meat, brain, or egg-balls. This should have -been reduced by boiling to four or five quarts.</p> - -<p><b>Bean Soup.</b>—Wash your beans and boil them with a piece of -salt pork. When the beans are soft, take them out and press through -a colander; then put them back in the water they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</span> were boiled in, -together with four hard-boiled eggs quartered, and half a lemon sliced, -a little pepper, if you like it. Boil up and serve. This is liked by -some better than when made with rich beef stock, with tomatoes or -catsup for flavor.</p> - -<p><b>Soup with Eggs.</b>—Make a good stock from a knuckle of veal and -any bones which may be on hand from baked or broiled beef or mutton. -Add one turnip, two carrots, one onion, a little lemon-juice, a small -sprinkling of thyme, and a little celery. Let it boil five or six -hours, then strain, set it to cool, and, when cold, remove all the -grease. When needed, heat it, add a little thickening of rolled cracker -or flour, and to three quarts of this stock add the yelks of five or -six eggs, one gill of cream, and pepper and salt to taste. Drop the -yelks in whole, and let them cook a few minutes. Some like to drop them -in just as the soup is dished. We do not think it so nice, but that is -a matter of taste.</p> - -<p><b>Green Pea Soup.</b>—Take two quarts of green peas, a quarter of -a pound of butter, a quarter of a pound of ham cut very fine, two -small onions, and a little parsley, and put it into a soup-digester or -kettle; add just a little water, enough to allow it to stew slowly, -stirring it well together, and cover closely. When quite tender, add -two quarts of veal, beef, or mutton broth, a great spoonful of sugar, -and pepper and salt to season it to your taste. Let it boil up once, -then rub through a hair-sieve into another kettle, and pour to it one -pint of boiling milk; boil five minutes and serve.</p> - -<p><b>Turtle Bean Soup.</b>—Pick free from dirt and imperfect beans a -pint and a half of turtle beans; soak them overnight in a good quantity -of cold water. In the morning drain off the water, and wash the beans -in fresh water; drain and put in the soup-digester, with four quarts of -good strong stock from which all the fat has been carefully removed. -Set it where it will boil steadily but slowly till dinner-time,—four -hours at least, six is better. We always have ours put on as soon -as the fire is kindled in the morning before breakfast. One small -onion, a carrot, and two or three of the outside stalks of celery cut -into the stock is considered an improvement by most persons. Stir it -occasionally till the beans begin to soften, to prevent their sticking -and burning at the bottom. Two hours before dinner put in half a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</span> -can of tomatoes, or, in the season, eight or ten fresh ones, and a -coffee-cup of tomato catsup. When ready to dish, strain through a -fine colander or coarse sieve, rubbing through enough of the pulp of -the beans to make it as thick as rich cream. Taste to see if there is -plenty of salt and pepper, and send to the table hot. If you have any -hard-boiled eggs left over, chop fine and put into the soup, after -straining it, or, if eggs are plenty, boil three hard and add, chopped -fine.</p> - -<p><b>Nursery Soup</b> (to be prepared the day before needing it).—Two -pounds of scrag of mutton, or of the knuckle, put into two quarts of -cold water; add two or three sliced turnips, or two spoonfuls rice or -pearl barley or star tapioca, whichever best suits the taste. Simmer -slowly an hour and a half, then take out the meat and set aside; -pour the soup into a large bowl, and leave to cool till next day. -In the morning skim off all the fat that has risen on the stock. An -hour before needed, turn the stock into a saucepan and bring it to a -boil; cut the meat from the bones in fine mouthfuls. Mince very fine -a small onion, a little parsley and celery; add a bit of butter the -size of a nutmeg, one table-spoonful browned flour; burn an <i>even</i> -table-spoonful of sugar in an iron spoon; pour a little boiling water -over it and stir it into the browned flour, then stir both into the -soup; add the other articles, and boil all together twenty minutes; -serve hot, with small bits of carefully toasted bread. This is called -<i>nursery</i> soup, but it is not to be scorned by the old folks.</p> - -<p><b>Oyster and Clam Soup.</b>—Fifty oysters, two bunches long clams; -drain all the liquor from the oysters into a farina-kettle, add a -pint of milk, one and a half table-spoonfuls of butter, pepper and -salt to suit the taste; cut off the soft bodies of the clams and put -with the oysters; chop the tough, gristly parts very fine and put -into the liquor; when it boils, add the oysters and clams, with two -table-spoonfuls of powdered cracker or the same of farina. Let all boil -about five minutes, and send to table hot. This makes soup enough for -six persons.</p> - -<p><b>Potato Soup.</b>—Boil and mash potatoes; about three pints when -mashed, to three quarts of rich beef stock; ready boiling; add pepper -and salt to taste; stir gradually into the boiling stock, then pass all -through a sieve and return to the soup-kettle; simmer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</span> five minutes, -and serve with fried bread; or, if liked, a half-pint of peas boiled -soft, one onion, one head of celery, two spoonfuls of rice, may be -put to the stock, well boiled, and the potatoes added when all are -done; then pass through the sieve, return to soup-kettle, simmer five -minutes, and serve.</p> - - -<h3>FISH.</h3> - -<p><b>To boil Fresh Fish.</b>—Clean, wash thoroughly, wipe dry, and -then sew up in a cloth, kept solely for fish, and plunge at once into -boiling water that has been first salted sufficiently. Sew the cloth up -on the <i>back</i> of the fish. Take it out when done, cut the threads -down the back of the fish, and cut the <i>skin</i> of the fish so that -in taking off the cloth, the skin will come off with it, leaving the -fish white and whole. Be careful not to break it, as it should come to -the table in good condition. Eat with egg sauce or plain drawn butter. -A fat shad is very nice boiled; but most people prefer cod, rock-fish, -or bass.</p> - -<p><b>Baked Salmon Trout, with Cream Gravy.</b>—Wash and clean the fish -carefully, wipe dry and lay in the bake-pan, with only enough water to -keep from scorching. If very large, score the backbone a little, but -do not cut the sides. Bake slowly, basting with butter and water, from -three quarters of an hour to an hour, according to the size. Have ready -a cup of rich cream, into which stir three or four table-spoonfuls -of boiling water, else the cream will clot when heated. Into this -stir gently two table-spoonfuls of melted butter and a little chopped -parsley. Put this into a milk-boiler or farina-kettle, or any vessel -that you can set into another, half filled with boiling water, to -prevent the sauce from burning. Add to the cream and butter the gravy -from the dripping-pan in which the fish was baked. Lay the trout on -a hot platter and let the gravy boil up once, and then pour over the -fish. Garnish with sprigs of parsley, arranged neatly. Use no spiced -sauces and very little salt. Serve hot.</p> - -<p>To fully appreciate the excellence of this fish with the cream sauce or -gravy, one should be able to eat it a very short time after it is taken -from the water, but the cream sauce is a great improvement to most -baked fish.</p> - -<p><b>Boiled Salmon Trout.</b>—Wash and dry the fish after cleaning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</span> it -nicely. Wrap in a clean fish-cloth, lay it in a fish-kettle, cover with -cold, salted water, and boil slowly from half to three quarters of an -hour, according to the size of the fish. When done, take off the cloth -gently, so as not to break the trout; lay in a hot fish-platter and -pour around it cream gravy like that used for baked salmon trout, and -serve hot.</p> - -<p>All fish, boiled or baked, are improved by cream gravy. If you cannot -obtain cream, use rich milk, and thicken it a little.</p> - -<p><b>Fried Halibut.</b>—Have the slices seasoned some hours before -frying, as it will be less liable to break in turning; when ready to -fry, dip it in egg beaten up, and roll it in bread crumbs; then fry in -hot lard, or have three or four slices of sweet salt pork fried till -quite brown and crisp, and then fry the halibut in the hot lard which -came from the pork. Dish it and lay the crisp brown pork around it.</p> - -<p><b>Fish Chowder.</b>—Haddock and striped bass are generally considered -the best fish for chowder. Cut the fish in pieces about one inch thick -and two inches square. Cut five or six good slices of the best salt -pork, lay them in the bottom of an iron pot and fry till crisped, -but do not scorch; take out the pork, leaving the fat; chop the pork -in small pieces; put into the pot a layer of fish, a layer of split -crackers and some of the chopped pork; a little red and black pepper; a -little chopped onion; then another layer of fish, split crackers, and -seasoning, and so on till all the fish is used. Then just cover all -with water, and stew slowly till tender. Thicken the gravy with cracker -crumbs and catsup if you like. Take out the fish, boil up the gravy -once, squeeze in the juice of a lemon, and pour the gravy over the -fish. Add salt if necessary.</p> - -<p><b>To prepare and dress Cold Fish.</b>—Cut cold boiled fish into -pieces about an inch long. Do not chop it. Take the yelks of four -eggs, hard boiled, and rub them to a smooth paste with a few -spoonfuls of salad-oil or melted butter. Add a little salt, pepper, -and mustard,—the exact amount must be decided by your own taste -and knowledge of how highly seasoned your family like their food. -Add two teaspoonfuls of white sugar; rub all in with the paste, and -the last thing after getting the paste perfectly smooth put in six -table-spoonfuls of vinegar. Beat the mixture<span class="pagenum" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</span> till very light, and just -before pouring it over the fish beat the whites of two eggs to a stiff -froth and stir in with it. Stir half the dressing into the picked-up -fish. Serve in a glass dish, and spread the other half of the dressing -over the top. Garnish with delicate leaves of lettuce, to be eaten with -it.</p> - -<p><b>Newport Fish Pudding.</b>—Pick any cold fish left from the dinner -into fine bits, carefully removing all the bones. Thicken some boiling -milk with flour, wet to a batter with cold milk, and stir the fish into -it; season with pepper, butter, and salt. Put it into a pudding-dish, -and spread cracker or bread crumbs thickly over the top to prevent the -milk from scorching, and set into the oven to bake just long enough to -brown nicely. A good way to use up cold fish, making a nice breakfast -or a side-dish for dinner.</p> - -<p><b>Fish-Balls.</b>—Salt codfish is usually preferred for making -fish-balls, although any fresh boiled fish left over from dinner is -very nice. When the salt cod is used, it should be put in a damp place -for a day or two before using, to soften. Early in the evening, before -needed, it should be thoroughly washed in several waters, rubbing it -well, then put to soak in a large quantity of lukewarm water. Just -before bedtime pour off the first water, and add more lukewarm water; -wash again in clean water in the morning, rubbing off all the salt -crystal that may adhere, particularly on the under side, and place over -the fire, in enough warm water to fully cover it. Let it come to the -boiling point slowly, but don’t let it really boil; keep it simmering -a half-hour. If the fish is very salt, turn off this water and cover -again with boiling water, and let it simmer fifteen or twenty minutes, -then drain and spread it out to cool; remove every bone and bit of -skin, and when perfectly cold pick to pieces very fine with a fork. -While the fish is cooling have nice mealy potatoes boiling over the -fire; when done, mash smooth and light, and add to the picked-up fish -a little more than its weight of potatoes, say a pound and a quarter -of potatoes to a pound of fish. For a dozen balls add one well-beaten -egg, or two if plenty, or two table-spoonfuls of rich cream, two -spoonfuls of butter; beat all together and form into neat balls with -your hands—which should be well floured—and drop them into a kettle -or large saucepan of boiling lard or drippings, and fry a good clear -brown. Plainer fish-balls<span class="pagenum" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</span> may be made if desirable, omitting eggs and -cream, and using less butter.</p> - -<p><b>Codfish Balls.</b>—Soak in warm water as much salt codfish as is -needed, judging by the size of the family. Let it stand in the water -all night. In the morning pick out all the bones, press out the water, -and chop fine. Boil the potatoes in the skin. When done, peel and mash -while hot twice as much potato as you have fish; mix well together -and moisten with cream or a little new milk, with a great spoonful -of butter. Have some well-clarified drippings or sweet lard ready in -a saucepan. Let it get boiling hot, and then put in the fish-balls. -They should be made a little more than half an inch thick. Fry a good, -clear brown, taking care not to scorch them. One egg well beaten is an -improvement.</p> - -<p><b>Scalloped Crabs.</b>—Wash the crabs and put into a kettle of -boiling water, throw in a handful of salt. Boil from twenty minutes -to half an hour. Take them from the water when done, and pick out all -the meat; be careful and not break the shell. To a pint of meat put -a little salt and pepper; we cannot give the exact amount, as tastes -differ so widely; but taste, and if there is not enough add more, a -little at a time till suited. Grate in a very little nutmeg, and add -one spoonful cracker or bread crumbs, two eggs well beaten, and two -table-spoonfuls of butter (even full); stir all well together; wash the -shells clean and fill each shell full of the mixture; sprinkle crumbs -over the top and set in the oven till of a nice brown; a few minutes -will do it. Send to the table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Oyster Pie.</b>—Line a deep dish with good puff paste, not too -rich. Roll out the upper crust, and lay on a plate just the size of the -oyster-dish; set it on the top of the dish and put into the oven, as -the crust must be nearly cooked before the oysters are put in, for they -require less time than the crust. While the crust is baking, strain -the liquor from the oysters; thicken it with the yelks of eggs, boiled -hard and grated,—three eggs for seventy-five oysters; add two even -table-spoonfuls of butter, and the same quantity of bread or cracker -crumbs; season with pepper, salt, and mace or nutmeg,—a very little of -either,—and by tasting, be sure that you do not season it too much; to -add is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</span> very easy, but to take out seasoning in cooking is a difficult -task. Let the liquor just boil; then slip in the oysters, and as soon -as they come to a boil, stir well and remove the plate with top crust, -and pour them and their gravy into the hot bake-dish; place the top -crust over, and return to the oven for five minutes. Send to the table -hot.</p> - -<p><b>Oyster Fritters.</b>—Drain off the liquor and wipe the oysters dry; -season with a little pepper and salt, if not salt enough. Make a batter -with a pint of milk and flour enough to mix not very stiff. Beat the -yelks of three eggs thoroughly, and put to the batter, beating all a -good deal. Whisk the whites to a stiff, dry froth, and stir in gently -the last thing. Take up a spoonful of batter on a spoon, lay an oyster -on top, and cover with a little more batter, and with a broad knife -slip this off gently into a pan of boiling lard. When brown on both -sides, drain on a perforated plate, and send to the table hot.</p> - -<p><b>To Fry Oysters.</b>—Take from the shells carefully so as not to -tear or break them; dry in a clean fish-cloth; beat the yelks of -eggs with thick cream,—one yelk to two table-spoonfuls of cream; -rub together some bread or cracker crumbs, a little salt and cayenne -pepper. Have half a pound of butter boiling hot in a skillet; dip each -oyster in the beaten yelks and cream; then roll in the cracker crumbs, -taking pains to have the crumbs adhere thickly to the oyster. Drop into -the skillet, and fry of a light brown on each side. They should be -crisp and light. Drain free from all grease, and serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>Lobster Patties.</b>—Boil two or three good lobsters; take out all -the meat, and chop very fine; mash the coral smooth, and mix with the -meat. Boil three or four eggs hard, and <i>grate</i> the yelks, mashing -or rolling the whites to make them heavy and waxy. Season the whole -with salt, cayenne, a very little pounded mace or nutmeg, and a small -portion of lemon-rind, grated. Moisten the whole with cream, fresh -butter, or salad-oil. (Be careful that you do not use too much of any -of these seasonings. It will make the whole bitter. In all of these -strong flavors, only just an <i>intimation</i> that they are present -is necessary.) Put it into a stewpan, add a little water, put over -the fire till it just comes to a boil; then remove from the fire. Make -puff<span class="pagenum" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</span> paste, and line deep patty-pans. Bake the paste before filling, -while preparing the lobster. As soon as the lobster has been removed -from the fire, and is partially cooled, take the crust from the oven -and fill the patty-pans with the mixture to the top. Crabs or prawns -may be made into patties in a similar manner.</p> - -<p><b>Lobster Rissoles.</b>—Boil the lobster, take out the meat, mince it -fine; pound the coral smooth, and grate the yelks of three hard-boiled -eggs for one lobster. Season with cayenne pepper, a little nutmeg, -and salt. Make a batter of milk, flour, and well-beaten eggs,—two -table-spoonfuls of milk and one of flour to each egg. Beat this batter -well, and mix the lobster with it gradually, till it is stiff enough to -roll into balls the size of a large plum. Fry in fresh butter, or the -best salad-oil, and serve up either warm or cold. Similar rissoles may -be made of raw oysters minced fine, or of boiled clams. These should be -fried in lard.</p> - -<p><b>Fish Sauce.</b>—Four ounces of butter blended with three -table-spoonfuls of flour; stir in gradually half a pint of boiling -water, stirring all the time. When smooth, put it into a farina-kettle -or milk-boiler, and let boil five minutes. If too thick, add a little -more water. Beat two eggs to a foam, and stir in the last thing before -removing it from the fire. A little parsley chopped fine added to this -sauce, or an onion, is relished by some.</p> - -<p><b>A good Breakfast Dish.</b>—When any boiled fresh fish is left from -dinner, take out all the bones carefully, and pick the fish up in small -bits. Cover the bottom of a deep dish with some of the fish, and, if -needed, a little pepper and salt, and a few spoonfuls of the fish -sauce, if any was left from dinner; then sprinkle over some fine bread -crumbs; then another layer of fish, with sauce; then bread crumbs, -until the dish is full. If all the fish sauce is used without making -the composition quite moist, beat two eggs very light, and add a cup of -milk and pour over the whole; then cover with more bread crumbs, and -set in the oven long enough to heat through and brown delicately. If -no fish sauce is left over, take two great spoonfuls of butter, cut in -little bits, and lay in alternately with the fish and crumbs; use four -eggs instead of two, and a pint of milk.</p> - -<p><b>Best Mode of Roasting Fish, Ducks, &c.</b>—The very best way of -cooking fish and fowl ever devised is familiar to woodmen,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</span> but unknown -to city epicures. It is this: Take a large fish,—say a trout of three -or four pounds, fresh from its gambols in the cool stream,—cut a small -hole in the neck and abstract the intestines. Wash the inside clean, -and season it with pepper and salt; or, if convenient, fill it with -bread crumbs or crackers chopped up with meat. Make a fire outside -the tent, and when it has burned down to embers, rake it open, put in -the fish, and cover it with coals and hot ashes. Within an hour take -it from its bed, peel off the skin from the clean flesh, and you will -have a trout with all its original juices and flavors preserved within -it,—a dish too good, as Izaak Walton would say, “for any but very -honest men.”</p> - -<p>Grouse, ducks, and various other fowls can be cooked deliciously in a -similar way. The intestines of the bird should be taken out by a small -hole at the vent, and the inside washed and stuffed as before. Then wet -the feathers thoroughly, and cover with hot embers. When the cooking -is finished, peel off the burnt feathers and skin, and you will find -underneath a lump of nice juicy flesh, which, when once tasted, will -never be forgotten. The peculiar advantage of this method of roasting -is that the covering of embers prevents the escape of juices by -evaporation. This comes from the “Trappers’ Guide,” and we know it is -good.</p> - - -<h3>MEATS.</h3> - - -<h4>BEEF.</h4> - -<p><b>Leicestershire Hunting Beef.</b>—Take four ounces saltpetre or one -of allspice. Rub it over a nice round of beef very thoroughly. Let it -stand twenty-four hours, then rub it in as much common salt as will be -needed to salt it to suit your taste. Keep it in a cool place twelve -days, turning it every day, then put it into a deep pan and cover it, -upper and under side, with three pounds of beef suet. Then cover with -a thick paste, and bake slowly for six hours. It will keep for six -months, and is highly spoken of by English people. We have never tried -it, but by request give the receipt, which we have had for a long time -in our possession.</p> - -<p><b>Spiced Beef.</b>—Boil a shin of ten or twelve pounds of beef until -the meat readily falls from the bone. Pick the meat to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</span> pieces and mash -the gristle very fine, rejecting all parts that are too hard to mash. -Set the liquor in which it was boiled away till cool, then take off all -the fat. Boil the liquor down to a pint and a half; then return the -meat to the liquor, and, while hot, add any salt and pepper that may be -needed, a half-teaspoonful of cloves, the same of cinnamon, a little -nutmeg, a half-spoonful of parsley chopped fine, a very little sage and -summer savory, if agreeable, not quite half a salt-spoonful. Let it -boil up once, and put it into a mold or deep dish to cool. Cut in thin -slices for breakfast or tea.</p> - -<p><b>Curried Beef.</b>—In reply to inquiries how to use “<i>curry</i> -powder,” we give the following: Put in a saucepan over the fire two -table-spoonfuls of butter, and, when hot, put in two small onions, -sliced very thin; fry until brown; then add a table-spoonful and a half -of curry powder, mixing all well together. Take three pounds of the -best of a round of beef; cut in pieces an inch square; pour over it the -milk of a cocoa-nut, and a quarter of the meat of the nut grated very -fine and squeezed through muslin; moisten with a little water,—only -enough to make it pass through the muslin easily. The cocoa-nut meat -and milk soften the taste of the curry, and no <i>curry</i> is ever -made in India without it. If this does not make liquor enough, add half -a teacup boiling water, and let the whole simmer for thirty minutes. -Serve hot, in a dish with sliced lemon, and a wall of mashed potatoes -or boiled rice around it.</p> - -<p><b>Meat Pie.</b>—Cut up some pieces of good, tender raw beef or -mutton, season with pepper, salt, and, if liked, one finely minced -onion. Boil a half-dozen good-sized mealy potatoes, mash smooth and -wet with enough milk to form a dough to make the crust; salt to please -the taste; roll out full half an inch thick, and line a buttered dish -large enough to hold the meat. Lay in the meat, add a teacup of water, -or less if the pie is to be for a small family, then roll out a thick -crust of the potato, covering the top of the pie at least an inch -thick, and bake about an hour and a half.</p> - -<p><b>Beef Collops.</b>—Cut the fillet from the under part of a rump of -beef into thin slices; broil quickly until nearly done, then put into -a stewpan with a little beef stock; add two or three slices of lemon -or pickled cucumber and two table-spoonfuls of catsup,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</span> and stew till -tender. Half a pint of oysters added ten minutes before it is done is a -great improvement.</p> - -<p><b>To Cook a Beefsteak.</b>—Put a frying-pan over the stove till it -becomes quite hot. Have your steak well pounded or mangled,—a sirloin -steak is very good for this purpose,—lay it on the hot, dry pan and -cover it instantly as tightly as possible. When the meat touches the -heated pan it will seethe and adhere to it, but in a few seconds it -will become loosened and juicy; turn the steak every half-minute, but -be careful to do it as quickly as possible, so that it may not be -long uncovered. When nearly done, sprinkle on pepper and salt, lay a -small piece of butter on the steak, and add a table-spoonful of strong -coffee. This makes a delicious broiled steak. Or, if you wish much -gravy, shake a little flour over the steak when just done, and pour -in three or four table-spoonfuls of cream, let it just boil up, under -cover, and when the meat is done, take the pan from the fire, remove -the meat, stir in quickly the well-beaten yelk of an egg, and serve -hot. If cream is used, omit the coffee. Mutton or ham may be cooked in -the same way, only they should be over the fire longer than beef.</p> - -<p><b>Rump Steak, with Oyster Sauce.</b>—Broil the steak nicely; put four -even table-spoonfuls of butter into a frying-pan, add pepper and salt -to your taste; shake in a table-spoonful of flour, and add the juice -of half a lemon; when it begins to boil up, put in as many oysters as -can be used in this preparation; let them heat through and just boil up -once, taking care to shake the pan and keep its contents stirring all -the time it is over the fire. When the oysters are done,—a pint to one -steak is about the right quantity,—pour all over the steak, and serve.</p> - -<p><b>A French Broil.</b>—Select a spider or saucepan with a smooth, -clean bottom, set it over the range or stove till really <i>hot</i>, -then lay on a good tenderloin or sirloin steak; keep the spider very -hot, and turn the steak as often as every two minutes,—no longer; when -half done, sprinkle over salt and pepper to suit the taste of those who -are to eat it; continue to turn the steak often till sufficiently done; -just as you are ready to take up and dish the steak, dust a little -flour over it, spread on a table-spoonful of butter, or, if a large -steak, a little more; turn it over, dust on more flour, and spread on -the butter as on the first side; turn again, set the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</span> saucepan back -from the hot fire, take the steak on to the platter, and set in a -heater or oven to keep hot, but not to cook any more; shake more flour -into the butter in the saucepan, set again over the fire, and as soon -as the butter bubbles up through the flour, rub it smooth with a spoon -and pour in a few spoonfuls of boiling water; stir constantly, and as -soon as it thickens, pour over the steak, and serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>Beefsteak Rolls.</b>—Cut small, thin steaks from the round; fry -them slightly; make a stuffing as for roast veal or turkey; spread it -over the steaks, roll them up tightly, and sew or tie up neatly. Stew -them in rich beef stock or brown gravy twenty minutes, and serve hot, -with the gravy poured over. A half-teacup of rich cream added a few -minutes before serving is a great improvement.</p> - -<p><b>Beef Croquettes.</b>—Chop cold roast beef or veal with one onion -very fine; add a little sweet-marjoram, half a teaspoonful of powdered -cloves, and as much salt and pepper as will be palatable. Moisten with -a rich beef gravy, from which all the fat has cooled and been removed. -Roll into balls, dip in beaten eggs, roll in flour, or bread or cracker -crumbs, and fry in good, sweet lard.</p> - -<p><b>Mock Duck.</b>—Prepare a good dressing, such as you like for turkey -or duck; take a round steak, pound it, but not very hard, spread the -dressing over it, sprinkle in a little salt, pepper, and a few bits of -butter, lap over the ends, roll the steak up tight and tie it closely; -spread two great spoonfuls of butter over the steak after rolling it -up, then wash with a well-beaten egg, put water in the bake-pan, lay in -the steak so as not to touch the water, and bake as you would a duck, -basting often. A half-hour in a brisk oven will cook it. Make a brown -gravy, and send to table hot.</p> - -<p><b>A Nice Breakfast Dish.</b>—Grate some cold tongue or beef, put it -into a stewpan with a little pepper and salt, and four table-spoonfuls -of cream or milk; when quite hot, put in four well-beaten eggs; stir -all the time till the mixture is quite thick; have ready some nicely -toasted bread, well buttered, and spread the tongue or beef over it; -send to table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Mock Venison.</b>—Cut a nice piece of <i>corned beef</i> in thin -slices and soak three or four hours in tepid water, changing the -water often. Be sure and have plenty of water to soak it in. When<span class="pagenum" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</span> -sufficiently freshened, drain, wipe dry, put on a hot gridiron, and -broil quickly, turning often, only enough to be fully hot through. Make -a gravy of drawn butter, add a little pepper, taste before adding salt; -chop fine the yelk of an egg boiled hard, and, if agreeable, a little -boiled onion, and pour over it; or simply butter, pepper, and a little -salt, as for beefsteak. This is an excellent dish when so situated as -to have little opportunity for fresh meat, but a <i>fresh</i> beefsteak -thus seasoned is better.</p> - -<p><b>To prepare Cold Roast Beef or Mutton.</b>—Cut off the meat as thin -as possible; dip each slice in flour; cover the bottom of a deep dish -with a layer of meat thus prepared; dust over it a little pepper, -salt, sage, and sweet-marjoram,—<i>very little</i> of each; add -another layer of the meat dipped in flour and seasoned in the same way. -Continue this till the dish is half full, then pour over it what gravy -was left, being careful to remove every particle of fat. If not gravy -enough, substitute water. Turn in half a teacup of catsup, or half a -pint of tomatoes, adding a little clove or allspice. Add water enough -to fill it nearly full, fit a plate tightly over it to keep in the -flavor, and bake two hours. Boil some potatoes and mash them, adding a -little salt, butter, and milk. Make it into a high wall around the edge -of a well-heated platter; beat up an egg and brush over the potatoes, -and when the meat is done, turn it into the platter; slip it again into -the oven, to remain long enough to brown the potatoes a fine golden -brown. The poorest and toughest parts of uncooked beef may be made -deliciously tender if prepared in this manner, but it must be in the -oven one hour longer.</p> - -<p><b>Economical Breakfast Dish.</b>—If you have a few bits of meat or -two or three cold potatoes left over, put some “drippings” into a -skillet; slice the potatoes thin, cut the meat up fine, and add salt -and pepper to taste; then beat two or three eggs, according to the size -of the dish to be prepared; stir them into a cup of cream or milk, and -pour over the meat and potatoes. If eggs are not plenty, use fewer eggs -and more milk or cream. If milk, add a half table-spoonful of butter. -Keep it over the fire, stirring constantly, till the eggs are cooked. -It takes but a few moments to prepare this; but do not leave it an -instant till done, or the eggs will burn and ruin the whole.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</span></p> - -<p><b>A “Two Story.”</b>—A genuine farmer’s dish, but fit to set before a -king,—so we are assured by one who knows.</p> - -<p>Peel and slice thin potatoes and onions (five potatoes to one small -onion); cut half a pound of sweet salt pork in thin slices to a pound -of beef, mutton, or veal; cut the meat in small pieces; take some nice -bread dough and shorten a little, and line the bottom of the stewpan -with slices of pork; then a layer of meat, potatoes, and onions; dust -over a little pepper, and cover with a layer of crust; then more pork, -meat, and vegetables; then more crust. Repeat this till the stew-pot -is full,—the size of the pot will depend on the number of the family; -pour in sufficient water to cover; finish with crust. Let it simmer -till meat, vegetables, etc., are done, but do not let it boil hard. -Serve hot.</p> - - -<h4>MUTTON AND LAMB.</h4> - -<p><b>Shoulder of Mutton Boiled.</b>—All mutton should hang in a cool -place till quite tender before being used, but be careful that it -does not hang long enough to acquire the least rust or taint. When -the shoulder has hung till tender, bone it; rub a little salt over -it, and let it lie in a deep dish for two days, turning it over each -day and rubbing in a little more salt,—half a table-spoonful each -time. Meat to boil requires more salt than for roasting. On the third -day, sprinkle over the inside one teaspoonful of pepper and half a -teaspoonful of powdered mace. Spread twenty oysters over the inside; -roll the meat up tightly and tie securely; put it into the stewpan -or boiler with just enough boiling water to cover it; throw in six -peppercorns, or seeds of the red pepper, and one onion chopped; shut -the cover over very closely, and stew; twenty minutes’ cooking for each -pound of meat is the proper time. Stew twenty-four oysters in a pint of -good stock or gravy; add a table-spoonful of butter and enough flour to -thicken it. When the meat is done, lay it in a good-sized platter and -pour the gravy over it.</p> - -<p><b>Shoulder of Mutton Spiced.</b>—Bone carefully a shoulder of mutton, -after it has hung till tender. For every pound of meat mix two ounces -of brown sugar, one salt-spoonful of cloves, one teaspoonful each of -mace and pepper, and half a salt-spoonful of ginger; rub these spices -thoroughly into the meat; lay it into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</span> a deep dish, and the next day -rub in two teaspoonfuls of salt for every pound of meat, and add one -pint and a half of good beef gravy for the whole joint. Turn the meat -over; rub it well with this pickle every day for a week or ten days, -letting it remain in the pickle all the time after each rubbing. At the -end of the week or ten days, roll it up tightly, bind with a string, -and stew gently in beef broth four hours. Serve hot in its own gravy, -and eat with any piquant sauce or catsup.</p> - -<p><b>Mutton Stew.</b>—Take such scraps of mutton or lamb as are not -fit for chops or cutlets; just cover with water; add a little onion -and parsley, if not disagreeable, and season well with black and red -pepper; boil two eggs hard, or, if making a good-sized stew, use more -(two are plenty for five persons); mash or grate the yelks fine, and -stir them into a table-spoonful of butter and the same amount of -browned flour. Stir this into the stew just before dishing, to season -and thicken the gravy. Let it boil up once after adding this, and serve -as soon as it thickens.</p> - -<p><b>Roasting a Leg of Lamb.</b>—Slice salt pork very thin, cutting two -slices down to the rind, leaving the rind on to make the piece as large -as possible; make as many of these thin slices as will cover the whole -leg; then wrap the whole in grape-leaves; pass a string round to keep -them on, and roast. It is said the lamb will be exceedingly juicy and -of delicious flavor. Never baste meat with butter, but with rich soup -stock.</p> - -<p><b>To use Cold Lamb.</b>—When lamb or mutton is left in good -shape,—and it is the fault of the carver if it is not always left -neatly,—cut off some chops; trim off the greater portion of fat, and -saw or cut off the end of the bone. Heat a platter, and pour into the -centre some nicely cooked fresh green peas, or in winter canned peas. -Heap them in the centre in the shape of a pyramid; brown the chops -quickly over a bright fire, season in a hot plate with pepper, salt, -and butter, and then arrange them around the peas, the small end laid -upon the pyramid of peas. Garnish the edge of the dish with slices of -hard-boiled eggs, each circled in a fringe of curled parsley. Serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>Mint Sauce.</b>—Three table-spoonfuls of fresh mint finely chopped, -five table-spoonfuls of vinegar and two of sugar, dissolved in the -vinegar. To be used with roast lamb or chops.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</span></p> - -<p>If so much vinegar is disagreeable, use one third water and a little -more sugar.</p> - - -<h4>VENISON.</h4> - -<p><b>Jerked Venison.</b>—Take the haunches when the deer is first -killed; rub in as much salt as you can; press and squeeze the meat -hard with your hands to get out all the blood; then hang it up in some -covered alley or shed, where the sun will not directly strike it, but -where the dry breezes will sweep over it. If not quite salt enough the -next day, rub more salt on; squeeze and press out all the blood which -may still remain, and hang up again. Two or three days will dry it. -When needed, cut off nice slices, rather thin; lay them in a dish of -cold water a short time to soften a little, then broil, serving with -pepper and salt. Or, fry a piece of bacon crisp; then lay the pieces -of venison into the hot fat, and warm through quickly; shake a little -flour over the meat, and when done salt and pepper; place the meat on -a hot platter; sift a little more flour into the pan; let it boil up; -add a few spoonfuls of boiling water; boil up again, and pour the brown -gravy over the venison. It is very sweet and palatable.</p> - -<p>In Florida, beef is also cured, or dried, so as to keep for several -days. Cellars or ice houses not being common, it is necessary to resort -to some means of keeping it. Take a fine round of beef, and cut in -slices as large as your hand and about half an inch thick. String them -on a strong cord, and hang up high in some place where the sun will -not shine directly on it, but where a good breeze of hot air will pass -over it. Build a fire of dry leaves or bits of paper, and place at one -end of the place where the meat is hung, so that the wind will take -the smoke under and over it; this will keep the flies away till the -outside of the meat is too dry for them to injure it. A day or two in -the dry breezes here will cure it, so that it may be put in paper bags -and kept in a dark, dry place several days, to broil as it is needed. -It is wonderfully sweet, probably because in drying all the juices of -the meat are secured. Our Northern air is not so drying, but we see no -reason why, in summer, those who have not smoke or ice houses could -not hang meat under the trees, away from the sun, keeping up a smoke -sufficient to drive away flies but not strong enough to heat the meat. -It is an experiment well worth trying.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</span></p> - -<p><b>Venison Steaks.</b>—Heat the gridiron, grease it well. Lay on the -steak; broil quickly, without scorching, turning it two or three times; -season with salt and pepper. Have the butter melted in a well-heated -platter, into which the steak must be laid hot from the gridiron, -turning it over two or three times in the butter, and send to table -hot. It is well to set the platter into another in which you have some -boiling water. Venison should not be overdone, and must be eaten hot.</p> - - -<h4>COOKING IN A “RUMFORD BOILER.”</h4> - -<p>In one of our “talks” in Part First we said something of the Rumford -Boiler. We subjoin here a few hints as to the use of it. Other similar -“boilers” or “steamers” or “cookers” can also be advantageously used. -The “Rumford” happens to be the one we have used and thoroughly like.</p> - -<p><b>To Roast Beef or Mutton.</b>—Have boiling water two or three inches -deep in the lower part of the boiler, deep enough to just touch the -bottom of the pan to be set over it. Place the meat in the inner pan -<i>without water</i>, first seasoning it with salt and pepper, if -agreeable. Put on the cover, fitting it in tightly.</p> - -<p>When the water begins to boil, set the boiler back on the stove or -range, where it will keep just at the boiling point, and let it remain -cooking the usual time,—fifteen minutes for each pound is generally -thought long enough. When done take it out, dredge with flour and put -into a quick oven to brown, but not scorch.</p> - -<p>It is usually estimated that one pint of gravy is lost when meat is -boiled the usual way. Here you have it all saved in the dish, the pure -juice of the meat making excellent gravy.</p> - -<p><b>To Boil a Leg of Lamb or Mutton.</b>—Keep in the boiler the -ordinary length of time, with no water in the receiver or pan (which -in all cases should be tightly closed), and send to the table without -browning.</p> - -<p><b>Corned Beef.</b>—If very salt, the beef should be soaked in cold -water three or four hours; then put it in the inner vessel with -<i>cold</i> water enough to cover it. Keep the water in the bottom -receiver boiling slowly till the beef is done. Salt meat needs to be -cooked longer than fresh; fifteen minutes to a pound for fresh,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</span> and -twenty minutes for salt, is the rule usually given, but we have not -found the latter long enough. A piece weighing nine pounds should cook -four hours, if without much bone, and three with bone. We think that -better—more sure—than twenty minutes to a pound.</p> - -<p>The water in which salt meat is thus cooked makes excellent stock -for soup. If too salt (it should not be if the beef was properly -freshened), add water sufficient to make it right.</p> - -<p><b>To Cook a Ham.</b>—Freshen the ham by soaking in cold water three -or four hours, then scrape clean and wipe dry. Stick a few cloves into -it, rub on a half cup of sugar, and put in the inner vessel <i>without -any water</i>; <i>cover closely</i>, and set over the boiling water -in the bottom of the boiler; bring to a boil, and then set back a -little that it may cook slowly till tender, about four hours. This will -be found very excellent in flavor, far surpassing ham boiled in the -common way. If liked, when done, the ham may be set in a quick oven and -delicately browned, like roast beef or mutton.</p> - -<p><b>Fish.</b>—Season a fresh fish with salt, pepper, and a -table-spoonful of butter, and put in the receiver, or inner pan, -<i>without any water</i>; cover closely, and cook for half an hour. -Thicken the juices of the fish which will be found in the pan with a -little flour, wet in cold water, and let it simmer a few minutes in the -pan, closely covered. This makes an excellent sauce for the fish.</p> - -<p>Steaks of cod, salmon, halibut, or any other fish, usually fried, are -excellent cooked in this “Rumford Boiler,” and need no butter or sauce -besides the juice which will be left in the vessel, and pepper and salt.</p> - -<p>We have tried all these receipts since we possessed this excellent -boiler, and can testify to the superiority of each dish over that -cooked in the usual way.</p> - -<p>We have cooked all our vegetables—corn, peas, beets, potatoes—in the -pans that are made to fit over the first vessel with tight covers, and -are greatly pleased with the improvement. It must be remembered that -each vessel should be closely covered, and over all the cover for the -whole boiler. Bread of all kinds and loaf cake are delicious cooked in -a “Rumford,” and when done put into the oven to brown.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</span></p> - - -<h4>VEAL.</h4> - -<p><b>Meats for June.</b>—It is more difficult to obtain good meats in -June than any part of the year. Lamb is still quite expensive, and -“broilers” or spring chickens are dear and very little of them. What -you can manage to pick off is dry, stringy, and, we cannot but think, -indigestible. Veal is the only meat within the reach of all classes; -but be very sure that you obtain that which has been healthily fed, and -butchered as humanely as is possible. It is well that we do not see or -know all the barbarity of the butchers’ shops, or we should perforce -become vegetarians. There are many ways of using the less desirable -portions of veal, that when properly carried out make some very -inviting breakfast or tea dishes.</p> - -<p><b>Calf’s Head and Harslet.</b>—The head to be split open, the grease -screened off, and eyes taken out, before bringing from the butcher’s. -Wash very carefully, and scrape thoroughly. Take out the brains and -put into a bowl of cold water; also lay the head, when cleaned, into a -large pan of water. Then see that the harslet is well cleaned; leave -the windpipe on the lights, and let all soak in cold water, and plenty -of it, for half an hour. Have a large pot of boiling water ready. Two -hours before dinner put in the heart and lights, leaving the windpipe -a little way out of the pot to carry off the scum that will rise while -boiling. Put in salt, black and red pepper,—<i>very</i> little of the -latter,—and a little thyme and parsley. One hour after put in the -liver; skim often. When the brains have soaked till free from blood, -pick out all the veins or fibers, roll half a cracker and put it with -the brains and a little parsley into a clean bit of muslin, tie it up, -and put into the kettle with the head, etc. Let it boil from ten to -fifteen minutes; then take it up, add butter, pepper, and salt, and -serve in a small dish by itself. The bones must all be removed from the -head; when well done, they will slip out easily. Lay the meat in the -center of the platter; skin the tongue, and place it with the meat; -remove the windpipe, and lay lights, heart, and liver around. Make a -gravy of drawn butter, with parsley, chopped fine, and two eggs beaten, -and added just as the gravy comes to a boil. Send all to table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Head and Harslet Hash.</b>—Take what may be left from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</span> dinner of -the calf’s head and harslet, chop very fine, use a few spoonfuls of the -drawn butter, moisten with the water in which the meat was boiled, put -over the fire till hot, then serve on nice slices of toasted bread, and -you have a breakfast dish even better than the dinner.</p> - -<p>The water in which calf’s head, etc., is boiled, should be carefully -kept, and when cold it will be a stiff jelly. Take off the grease that -will harden on top, and the jelly may be made into a fine mock-turtle -soup. It is still better if, when boiling the head and harslet, you add -two calf’s feet.</p> - -<p><b>Veal Pie.</b>—Take the neck of veal, joint it as small as you -can, and stew, adding just enough boiling water to prevent it from -burning. Season with pepper, salt, and, if liked, a very little onion -cut up fine, and a little parsley or summer savory. Make a crust -of two potatoes, boiled and mashed smooth and free from lumps, two -table-spoonfuls suet chopped <i>very</i> fine, a little salt; stir it -together with ice-cold water. Flour the board, roll out, and scatter -over it thin shavings of hard butter right from the ice; shake over -some flour; lap it together and roll out again. Then put on more -butter, using, in all, four table-spoonfuls, <i>not heaped</i>. This -done, sprinkle again with flour, roll it up and put on the ice till the -veal is done, which should not cook over three quarters of an hour. -When tender, pick the meat from most of the bones, leaving a few small -ones to give shape to the pie; roll the meat in well-beaten eggs; three -will suffice to wet it; then roll it in flour; cover the pie-dish with -part of the paste, rolled about a quarter of an inch thick. Cut a strip -of crust to place around the edge of the dish, and lay the meat in -neatly, cutting in a few bits of butter, two table-spoonfuls will do, -and pour over the meat the water in which it was cooked, which should -have boiled down so as to leave only enough to make the pie juicy. -Now roll out the rest of the paste for the upper crust, about three -quarters of an inch thick, cover the pie, cut a slit in the top, and -bake. Be careful not to scorch the crust.</p> - -<p><b>Sweetbread Croquettes.</b>—Trim the sweetbreads neatly; remove all -the gristle; parboil and mince very fine; add grated bread seasoned -with salt and pepper, and a very little mace, if agreeable; moisten -with cream; stir all well together, and shape<span class="pagenum" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</span> them by pressing firmly -into a pear-shaped wineglass or small mold, or mold into little cones -by rolling in your hands. Have ready a beaten egg and fine rolled and -sifted bread or cracker crumbs. Dip each croquette into the egg and -roll in the crumbs; stick a fruit-stem into the cone, to look like an -apple or pear, and fry in butter. This is good for cold chicken, beef, -or raw oysters.</p> - -<p><b>Veal Patty.</b>—Four pounds veal-steak, chopped while raw very -fine; mix with it eight butter-crackers rolled, a piece of butter -of the size of an egg, and two well-beaten eggs. Mix all thoroughly -together, and season with pepper and salt. A little sage, thyme, or -savory is thought an improvement by some. Mold into a loaf; put small -bits of butter on top, and cover with grated bread crumbs. Judge of the -quantity of butter necessary by your own taste. If not liked very rich, -two table-spoonfuls of butter cut up and sprinkled over will be plenty. -Bake two hours. When cold, cut off slices as from a loaf of bread, for -tea or side-dishes.</p> - -<p><b>Minced Veal.</b>—Mince the veal very fine with a little ham, a -table-spoonful of flour, three well-beaten eggs, one small onion -scalded for five or ten minutes to remove the coarser flavor and then -chopped fine; sweet herbs, pepper, and salt to suit the taste. Butter -a deep pie-plate, set a small cup in the center, and fill the plate -all around the cup with the mince-meat. Bake of a delicate brown; -then remove the cup and fill its place with some nice sauce,—apple, -cranberry, or jelly, or, if you please, some scalloped oysters. Beef, -lamb, or chicken prepared in the same way is very good.</p> - -<p><b>Veal Hash.</b>—Boil a shin of veal which has about three pounds -of meat on it in as small a quantity of water as you can, so that -when done there shall be one quart of water left. Boil the day before -needed, that it may be perfectly cold. When the meat is well done, lay -it anywhere where it will be away from the air, but do not wrap it in -a cloth. Save all the liquor in a separate dish. The next morning cut -up all the meat; chop not quite so fine as for the “mince.” Half an -hour before you send it to the table, put it over the fire in a covered -stewpan with the liquor; have ready half a pint of hot-drawn butter and -eight hard-boiled eggs; remove the shells, mince all but two, and add -to the meat. As<span class="pagenum" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</span> soon as it boils up, remove from the fire; season with -salt, cayenne pepper, and a little black pepper. Cut the two eggs in -slices, and when the meat is placed in a dish, lay them over the top -neatly. Send to table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Veal Loaf.</b>—Three pounds of veal cutlet, a quarter of a pound -salt pork chopped very fine. Three Boston crackers rolled fine, three -well-beaten eggs, one wineglass claret or currant wine, half a cup -of tomato catsup, five ripe tomatoes, if in season, or a teacup of -canned tomatoes; one onion chopped fine, if not disagreeable; juice and -chopped peel of one orange or lemon, whichever is the most palatable; -one small teaspoonful each of pepper, cloves, sweet-marjoram, sage, and -salt. Mix these very thoroughly with the meat, and mold into a loaf. -Place in a dripping-pan, cover the top with cracker crumbs, and bake -three hours. While baking, keep some butter and hot water on the side -of range, and baste the loaf with it often and thoroughly. Let it stand -in a cool place till the second day before cutting. Excellent as a -relish for breakfast or tea.</p> - -<p><b>Croquettes.</b>—These are a sort of mince-meat dumpling. Take -some cold veal, chicken, lobster, or tender cold beef, chopped fine. -Put a half table-spoonful of butter in a saucepan on the fire. When -melted, put in a piece of onion chopped fine; fry a little; add half -a table-spoonful of flour. When it browns, put in the minced meat; -stir it steadily till heated through, adding salt and pepper. Then add -a gill and a half of broth, and set the pan a little off the fire to -simmer. Chop three stalks of parsley fine, and mix it in on the fire, -stirring all the time. Then break in two eggs, stirring faster; in two -or three minutes take it from the fire and set it to cool. Thus far has -occupied about ten minutes. When the meat is cold, sift some flour on -the board; take a lump of the mince the size of an egg or larger, roll -it in the fine flour, dip it in a cup of beaten egg, drain and roll -it in bread crumbs; have a quantity of boiling suet or drippings in a -frying-pan, and fry the croquettes in them for a couple of minutes, -till brown. Put in a colander and let the fat drain off.</p> - - -<h4>POULTRY AND GAME.</h4> - -<p><b>Steamed Turkey.</b>—All poultry, after dressing, should remain in -cold water from twenty minutes to half an hour to extract the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</span> blood -and leave them white; then hang in a cool place for twenty-four hours, -in winter even longer. They will be much sweeter and finer flavored for -it.</p> - -<p>When ready to cook a turkey, see that every pinfeather is taken out, -rinse in cold water, and wipe dry with a cloth used for nothing but -such purposes; rub inside with pepper and salt, and fill with oysters -carefully washed in their own liquor to remove bits of shells; sew -up the turkey, place in a large dish, and set it into a steamer over -boiling water, or in a “Rumford Boiler”; lay a clean cloth over the -steamer and shut the cover on tight, and steam till tender,—two and a -half hours, or, if large, three hours; run a fork into the breast to -see if done. If it seems tender, and no reddish juice flows out, it is -ready to take up; strain the gravy and put into the oyster sauce, which -should be ready while the turkey is cooking, made like stewed oysters -and thickened with farina or butter and flour; let it just boil up, and -add, if you like it white, a little boiled cream; pour this over the -steamed turkey, and serve hot.</p> - -<p>Or, if preferred, the turkey may be stuffed as for a common baked -turkey and steamed; or it may be stuffed with good plump chestnuts -after the skins are removed, and the gravy made with the giblets -chopped fine, adding a little flour as you chop, and the gravy from the -dish stirred to it, and set over the fire to boil up. While the gravy -is being made, rub a little butter over and sprinkle the turkey with -flour very slightly, and set in a hot oven to brown delicately. Many -prefer this to sending to the table right from the steamer with white -gravy poured on.</p> - -<p><b>Broiled Chickens.</b>—First boil the giblets, neck, and tips of -the wings in just enough water to cover them; season with a little -pepper and salt. When tender, pick off what little meat there is on -the neck and wing-tips, and chop with the giblets, very fine, shaking -over them, while chopping, enough flour to make the whole like a paste; -then return it to the water it was boiled in, stirring all together, -and leave it on the range to keep hot. This done, put the chicken on -a well-heated gridiron over a clear fire, covering it closely with a -cover made to fit the gridiron. Cook carefully, turning it often, and -do not let it scorch. When done, it should be of a good, rich, clear -brown, as uniform in color as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</span> possible. When partly cooked, sprinkle -salt and pepper over it on both sides.</p> - -<p>Put three great spoonfuls of butter on the platter you have ready to -take the chickens up in; set it into the oven, leaving the door open -lest you break the platter by too strong heat. When the chicken is -well cooked, remove from the gridiron to this platter, turning it over -several times in the melted butter; then pour over all the water in -which the giblets have been put, which should have become a nice thick -gravy; let the platter stand a few moments in the oven until all is -thoroughly blended and heated, then send to the table hot.</p> - -<p>If not in a hurry, it is well to melt butter in a deep kitchen-dish and -put the chicken and gravy into the oven in that, and, when thoroughly -heated through, remove to a hot china platter for the table. There is -a risk of cracking the enamel on nice china or breaking the platter -entirely, if set in the oven where a servant may forget and close the -door.</p> - -<p><b>To Bake a Chicken.</b>—Choose full-grown, plump, well-fattened -chickens; remove all the pinfeathers carefully and singe all the hairs -off by holding a lighted paper under the chicken before opening; then -open with care; see that the gall is not broken in taking out the -entrails and giblets, and that none of the crop or windpipe is left in; -then wash in plenty of cold water; put inside the gizzard, liver, and -heart, when well cleaned and washed, and hang up to drain all night. If -very warm weather, put in a piece of charcoal to keep it sweet. When -ready the next morning to prepare for baking, cut off the neck and -legs, and lay aside with the giblets for gravy; prepare a dressing, -or stuffing, of dried bread rolled fine, with a little salt, pepper, -sage, and summer savory,—the quantity of seasoning must be determined -by the taste of the family; rub salt and pepper inside, fill with the -dressing, putting enough into the neck or crop to give it a plump look; -sew up and skewer. There should be a grate fitted to every meat-pan -on which to lay meat or fowls, to keep them from becoming clammy by -resting in the water; rub your fowls with a little butter and salt, -place on this grate, pour boiling water into the pan, and put into -the oven; let it cook about fifteen minutes, then baste with a little -butter and salted water, kept in a bowl close by;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</span> dredge over some -flour, and baste again; repeat the basting three or four times while -the chickens are baking; turn them over every time; cook till a fork -will enter the flesh easily, but taking care not to dry up the meat; -then remove the skewers and thread with which they were sewed, put them -on the platter and place in the heater, or where they will keep hot -till the gravy is ready.</p> - -<p><b>Gravy for Roast or Baked Poultry.</b>—Put the giblets and neck into -a small saucepan, sprinkle over a little salt and pepper, then cover -them with boiling water and set on the back part of stove or range to -cook slowly, as soon as you have put the poultry into the oven; dip -the feet and legs into boiling water long enough to scald off all the -leathery skin, and put them into the saucepan to boil with the giblets -and neck. The feet and lower part of the leg, usually thrown away, -contain a good deal of jelly, which gives a very desirable richness -and body to the gravy, and when boiled tender many think them a great -delicacy to be served whole. When the giblets are boiled tender, chop -very fine, and while chopping dredge over flour till you have made -them like a paste, then put back into the water they were boiled in -to simmer till the chickens are done, stirring occasionally that the -chopped giblets may not stick to the saucepan. After the fowls are -taken up, set the meat-pan on the stove and shake some flour into the -liquor at the bottom of the pan. By the time the poultry is cooked -this should have been done to a brown gravy. After you have put in the -flour, do not stir it until the liquor has boiled up over it, then rub -it quite smooth, and little by little pour in the water in which the -chopped giblets are; stir constantly until it thickens, and if properly -managed you will have a smooth brown gravy of fine flavor.</p> - -<p><b>Chicken Pot-Pie.</b>—Cut up a chicken, or two if a large pie be -required; lay the pieces neatly into the pot, and sprinkle over salt -and pepper to your taste; rub one table-spoonful and a half of flour -and two table-spoonfuls of butter (<i>even</i> full) together, and -spread this paste over the chicken; then cover the whole with good -new milk, or, better still, with cream, if you have it. Set the pot, -covered closely with a tight-fitting cover, where it will not cook or -boil rapidly, but stew or simmer, for three quarters<span class="pagenum" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</span> of an hour. While -this is stewing, make a crust of prepared flour, or, if you have none, -with soda and cream of tartar, just as you would for light, tender -biscuit; roll this out quite thick, and cover over the meat. If there -be not enough gravy, add a little more milk boiling hot, or boiling -water if milk be not plenty. Cut a slit in the top of the crust to -let the steam escape. Boil half an hour after the crust is put on, -bringing the pot over a hotter fire, that it may boil, not simmer. In -taking it out, pass a knife around the sides of the pot to loosen the -crust; then slip a long-handled skimmer, as nearly flat as you have, -or a batter-cake turner, carefully under, and try to lift it out so -as to break the crust as little as possible; but it will, if properly -made and cooked, be so light that it will probably break a little. When -lifted out, lay it on a dish and take out the chicken and gravy; then -lay the crust together over it, and serve hot. Lean fresh pork or veal -is very nice cooked in the same way.</p> - -<p><b>Fried Chickens.</b>—Cut up the chickens neatly; lay them in a large -panful of cold water half an hour to extract the blood. Then drain and -put into just enough boiling water to cover them; season with pepper -and salt; parboil for twenty minutes. Fry crisp and brown some thin -slices of salt pork. When the chicken is sufficiently parboiled, drain -it from the water and lay each piece into the hot pork-fat. Dust over -some flour, and fry the chicken a clear brown, turning each piece -when sufficiently brown. When done on both sides, lay each piece on -the platter neatly, and set where it will keep hot but not dry. When -each piece is done and laid on the platter, shake from the dredge-box -into the hot fat enough flour to absorb the fat. Do not stir it till -all the flour is saturated; then with a spoon stir smooth and pour -in, little by little, enough of the water in which the chicken was -parboiled—which should be kept boiling—to make what gravy you need, -stirring it all the time. When thickened and free from lumps, pour on -the chicken, and serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>To Cook an Old Fowl.</b>—Dress and stuff as for roasting; then boil -three hours in a covered pot, with one quart of water, to which add -two table-spoonfuls of vinegar; then take it from the water, rub over -with a little butter, sprinkle over some flour, and put the fowl into -a bake-pan and bake in a hot oven one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</span> hour. Use the liquor in the pot -for gravy and to baste with. The vinegar makes it very tender, but does -not taste at all.</p> - -<p><b>Roast Duck.</b>—Select those that are fat and tender. Remove every -pinfeather, and singe off all the hairs; stuff with bread chopped fine, -seasoned with a little sage, summer savory, salt, and pepper; or, if -agreeable, add two onions chopped fine, but unless sure that all who -are to eat can use onions without injury, it is better not to risk -them. Remove the two oil-sacks from the back, or the oil will impart -a strong, disagreeable flavor. Roast carefully till of a nice brown, -basting thoroughly. One hour is quite long enough, as, if too much -cooked, a duck becomes very dry and tasteless. Remove all the fat from -the gravy, and put in the giblets, which should have been cooked and -chopped fine before the ducks were done. When chopping them, dust in -flour, so as to make a paste; then stir it into the gravy; stir till -all lumps have been broken and smoothed; let it cook a few minutes, -then pour in part of the water in which the giblets were boiled; cook -till it is thick and entirely free from lumps, then serve.</p> - -<p>We have been told that a very excellent French cook opens and -<i>draws</i> his poultry, but does not pluck them till they have hung -a few days,—long enough for the substance in the end of the quill to -absorb,—and thus they can be plucked clean leaving no pinfeathers. He -then picks and stuffs them, and lets them hang a day or two longer, -until the whole fowl is flavored with the dressing. We are assured -poultry so prepared is very delicate and finely flavored. We will not -vouch for this; but in part it sounds reasonable, and is well worth -trying, only we think the feathers must impart a strong, oily flavor if -left in so long.</p> - -<p><b>To Roast a Goose.</b>—Select a goose with clean, white skin, -plump breast, and <i>yellow</i> feet. If the feet are red, the bird -is old. Let it hang for a few days, if the weather will permit, as by -so doing the flavor is greatly improved. In dressing, take great care -in plucking, singeing, and drawing the goose, for if the oil-sack is -broken over it, or the gall bladder broken inside, it will be more -noticeable and less easy to remove in a goose than any other poultry. -Cut off the neck close to the back, leaving the skin long enough to tie -over. This can be done by drawing back the skin, while you sever the -neck from the body. Cut off<span class="pagenum" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</span> the feet at the first joint, and separate -the pinions at the first joint also; beat the breastbone flat with -potato-masher or rolling-pin. Put a skewer through the under part of -each wing; draw up the legs closely and run a skewer into the middle -of each, passing it quite through the body. Put another skewer into -the small part of the leg, bring it close down to the side-bone, run -it through, and proceed the same way with the other side. Cut off the -vent, make a hole in the skin large enough to draw the rump through, -so as to keep in the seasoning. Make a dressing of mealy potatoes, -finely mashed, two boiled onions chopped very fine, one and a half -teaspoonfuls of powdered sage, one of salt, and one of black pepper. -Fill the body of the goose, and secure it firmly by tying the skin over -the neck, and drawing the rump through the hole cut in the skin. Roast -for two hours, if large, or bake the same length of time; but roasting -is much nicer. Baste often, dredging a little flour over. Do not baste -in the drippings from the goose; they are too strong; but prepare some -basting by putting a little browned butter, salt, and pepper into -part of a cup of boiling water. When half done, drain the fat from -the roaster; the last drippings will not be so strong, and, with the -basting water, will suffice for the gravy. Make a good gravy, in which -the giblets finely chopped, and a little flour for thickening, have -been boiled. Put the gravy into a tureen, and serve the goose with a -dish of nice apple or gooseberry sauce.</p> - -<p><b>Wild Goose.</b>—A wild goose should be cooked rare. One hour’s -roasting is quite sufficient. A cup of currant jelly and a glass of -red wine should be added to the gravy, which is made the same as for a -common goose. Serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>To Roast a Green Goose.</b>—Geese are called <i>green</i> till four -months old. Dress and truss the same as a full-grown goose, but do not -stuff the bird. Put into the body pepper and salt, and a little butter -to moisten it. Roast for an hour; serve with gravy made like the first, -and tomato or sorrel sauce.</p> - -<p><b>To Boil a Goose.</b>—Clean thoroughly, and soak for twelve hours in -warm milk and water. Then dry, and stuff with sage and onions, as for -roasting. Put it into cold water over the fire, and bring to a boil, -then let it simmer gently for an hour and a quarter. Serve with onion -sauce poured over it, and stewed cabbage around it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</span></p> - -<p>A teaspoonful of made mustard, a salt-spoonful of salt, a few grains of -cayenne, mixed with a glass of port wine, are sometimes poured into the -goose, through a slit made in the apron when about half done, and by -many persons considered a great delicacy.</p> - -<p>Onions may be omitted, if injurious to any who are to partake of it. -They make many persons quite ill, and it is a kindness to avoid using -any seasoning that will disturb your guests. Whatever way a goose is -to be cooked, it is well to soak it over night in milk poured over it -boiling hot. In the morning wash off the milk and put the goose into -a kettle of cold water, set it over the fire, and let it remain till -almost boiling hot, not quite. This removes the strong taste of the -oil, and you can then take it out, dry with a towel, and when cool -stuff and cook as you wish,—either boiled, baked, or roasted.</p> - -<p><b>To Stew a Goose.</b>—Truss the goose as for boiling; cover with -thin slices of bacon and tie it up. Cover the bottom of the saucepan -also with bacon, sprinkle in a very little of sweet herbs powdered, a -carrot cut in dice, and two bay leaves, if you can get them. Lay in the -goose and giblets, cover with bacon, moisten with rich stock enough -to cover the goose; set over the fire and let it boil up; then cover -with buttered paper and a close-fitting cover; set it on a hot hearth -with fire over it. Let it cook an hour and a half. Serve with onion or -apple sauce.</p> - -<p>Both geese and ducks if old, and we think turkeys and chickens also, -are better for being parboiled before roasting. Put in just enough -water to boil them; keep the vessel close covered. Let a tough goose -gently simmer two hours; then dry, wipe clean, stuff, and roast; -basting with a little bacon fat or butter.</p> - -<p><b>To Stew Pigeons.</b>—Pluck and clean the birds with great care. -When drawn, leave them for about an hour to soak in cold water. This -extracts the blood, leaving them white and sweet. This done, take them -out, and tying the legs together, hang the birds up to drain. When dry, -lay them in a deep dish and place on the ice or a cool place overnight.</p> - -<p>The next morning prepare the stuffing of stale bread chopped very -fine, and to it, for twelve pigeons, put one and a half table-spoonfuls -of butter, two teaspoonfuls of salt, one of black pepper; <i>a -little</i> sage, thyme, summer savory, or sweet-marjoram (only a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</span> very -little,—the exact quantity cannot well be given more explicitly,—too -much will spoil it; better err by using too little, and profit by the -experience the next time). Rub a little salt and pepper outside and -inside of each bird, then fill with the stuffing and sew them up, -passing the thread through the legs and wings to make them lie close to -the body; then rub a little butter over the birds, dredge with flour, -put them into a bake-pan and place in a quick oven to brown. While -this is being done, chop a little fresh parsley, making, when fine, -half a table-spoonful, and put it to two table-spoonfuls of butter and -the same of flour; beat all together till smooth. Brown the birds on -both sides; twenty minutes should do it, if your oven is of the right -heat. Lay a small saucer or plate on the bottom of a close-covered iron -stew-kettle or into a soup-digester, and put the birds when browned -into the kettle, packing them compactly as you can; spread over them -the smoothly beaten flour, butter, and parsley, and pour in enough -rich milk to cover the pigeons (cream is better, but that is a luxury -belonging to the country chiefly). Set them on the stove or range -where they will steadily simmer four hours. They must not boil hard; -occasionally stir them from the bottom with a spoon, to prevent them -from sticking, but do not break them. When done, take up and place them -neatly on a large, deep platter, pour the gravy over the birds, trim -the edges of the platter with a neat fringe of green parsley, and send -to the table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Wild Squabs.</b>—After dressing the birds, let them soak in cold -water a half-hour to extract the blood, then drain off the water, wipe -dry on a clean meat-cloth, and set on the ice till needed. (They are -better to be dressed one day and cooked the next.) Let the gridiron be -bright and clean; set it over the fire till hot, then lay the birds on, -being careful that the fire is not so hot as to scorch. Turn them over -every minute or two; when half done sprinkle salt and pepper over them -and finish. Have a <i>thin</i> slice of bread toasted and spread with -butter to lay under each bird; place the birds on the bread, put butter -on each and set in the oven a moment, and send to the table hot. It is -well to have the bread toasted, buttered, and set in the oven to keep -hot before the birds are put over the fire.</p> - -<p><b>Chicken Pudding.</b>—Joint a pair of small, tender chickens;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</span> -season with salt and pepper; just cover with water, and stew with three -thin slices of salt pork, that has been well washed in hot water. When -tender, take from the liquor and set to cool. Make a batter of one -quart of flour, one quart of milk, six eggs, and a teaspoonful of salt; -or, if <i>prepared</i> flour, no salt is needed. When the meat is cold, -cover the bottom of a large bake-dish with batter, then a layer of -chicken, then another of batter, and so on till all is used, finishing -off with batter. Bake to a light brown. Beat an egg and stir into the -liquor that was set aside, and serve it hot with the pudding.</p> - -<p><b>Chicken Jelly.</b>—Cut up an old hen into quite small pieces; skin -it, and pour over three pints of cold water; boil until the bones slip -from the meat easily. Then take out all the meat; throw back the bones -to boil in the liquor longer; chop the meat with the rind of one lemon, -having squeezed the juice into the boiling liquor; put the meat, well -seasoned, into a jelly-mold, and when the liquor is boiled down full -one half strain it upon the meat in the mold; next morning turn it out -of the mold and cut in slices. Do not throw away the <i>feet</i> of -poultry, but pour boiling water over them to take off the skin, and -then put the feet into the liquor to boil. There is a great deal of -mucilage in their feet, and it is excellent both for this jelly and for -enriching the gravy for poultry.</p> - -<p><b>Chicken Patties.</b>—Chop very fine all the dry, poorest bits left -from baked chicken; season carefully with pepper, salt, and a little -celery, cut in small bits; make a light puff paste, roll a quarter of -an inch thick, cut with a neatly shaped paste-cutter; lay a narrow -strip of the paste all round, then put some of the mince on the paste; -cut another piece of the same size and lay over. Bake fifteen minutes. -This makes a neat dish and is good.</p> - -<p><b>To make Remnants of Meat, Chicken, etc., palatable.</b>—When a -boiled ham is nearly used up, there is considerable lean meat about the -small part of the ham which may waste because no way can be contrived -to use it. If you will grate all the hard dried bits, or, if too small -to grate, pound them in a marble mortar to a paste, and pack it close -in a stone pot, you will find it excellent for seasoning hashes, -patties, or to sprinkle over dropped eggs laid on buttered toast.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</span></p> - -<p><b>Meat Croquettes.</b>—Mince cold chicken very fine; moisten with -rich gravy; season with pepper and salt. Shape them by pressing tightly -into a jelly-glass or long, pear-shaped wineglass; brush over with -beaten egg after they are shaped, roll in bread crumbs, and fry in -lard. Drain, and send to table hot. Or, beat together one pint of cream -and one pint of minced chicken, three even table-spoonfuls of butter, -with salt and pepper. Fry in lard.</p> - - -<h4>PORK AND HAM.</h4> - -<p><b>To Boil a Ham.</b>—Boil it three or four hours, according to the -size; then take up, skin the ham ready for the table, stick over -it a dozen cloves, rub over half a small cupful of sugar, sprinkle -thoroughly with pounded rusk or cracker crumbs, and set into a -well-heated oven for half an hour.</p> - -<p><b>Broiled Ham.</b>—Cut <i>thin</i> slices from the middle of the -ham, as true and uniform as possible, having the knife very sharp. But -if by carelessness some parts are thicker than others, roll the thick -part out, stoutly, with a rolling-pin. Soak an hour or two in warm -water, unless the ham is quite fresh. Have the gridiron perfectly free -from roughness, and well heated; then broil over a brisk fire, turning -constantly that no part may be black. If cut thin enough, it will take -but a few minutes to broil it. When done, butter and pepper to suit the -taste. For breakfast, an omelet, or eggs cooked in some acceptable way, -should always go with ham.</p> - -<p><b>Ham Croquettes.</b>—Bits of boiled ham, too much broken to slice -neatly for the table, may be made into a very desirable breakfast dish.</p> - -<p>To two cups finely chopped boiled ham, put two table-spoonfuls of -flour, six eggs if plenty,—four will answer,—yelks and whites beaten -separately. Stir all together, and make into balls, or shape in a -wineglass. When in shape, roll them in bread crumbs, cracker dust, or -flour; dip them into a little beaten egg, and fry in butter to a clear -golden brown.</p> - -<p><b>Ham and Toast.</b>—Boil a pint of milk, wet a table-spoonful of -flour with cold milk, and stir up smooth. When the milk comes to a -boil, pour in the flour, stir carefully till it thickens smoothly, add -a table-spoonful of butter and a little black pepper.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</span> Shave some good -ham very thin, pour over it boiling water, and let it scald a minute, -pour it off, add a little more, let it boil up once, then put it into -the thickened milk, leaving it there while you toast carefully a few -evenly cut slices of bread. Lay them into a deep dish, skim out the ham -from the milk and lay neatly on the toast, and then pour over all the -thickened milk. You can beat an egg and put to the milk if you like. It -makes it richer, but is not necessary.</p> - -<p>This is a very nice breakfast relish. We think it preferable to dried -beef.</p> - -<p><b>Ham Toast.</b>—Soften slightly in a stewpan a small piece of -butter; put in as much finely minced ham as will cover a large round of -buttered toast, and add gravy enough to make it moist. When quite hot -stir in quickly with a fork one egg. Place the mixture over the toast, -which cut in pieces of any shape you may fancy.</p> - -<p><b>To use Cold Boiled Ham.</b>—When a ham has been long boiled and is -becoming dry, cut some thin slices, dip in egg and bread crumbs, and -fry quickly. Serve immediately.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—Cut off all fat; mince the ham very fine; break -into a spider a half-dozen fresh eggs; add a table-spoonful of cream, a -little salt and pepper, and set over the fire; as soon as the eggs are -set or nearly solid, spread one half thickly with the minced ham, and -fold the other half over upon it; slip it carefully from the spider to -the platter. Garnish with curled parsley. Serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>Ham Ball.</b>—Chop fine such small pieces of boiled ham as are -usually thought too poor or small for use; add as many eggs as -there will be people at the table; sprinkle in a little flour; beat -together with chopped ham, and make into balls. Fry in hot butter or -well-clarified drippings to a golden brown.</p> - -<p><b>How a Pig was roasted on a Sugar Plantation.</b>—The pig, having -been carefully cleaned and dressed, was wiped dry, part of the liver -and heart chopped fine, mixed with bread crumbs, savory herbs, salt, -and pepper, and sewed up. While this was being prepared a fire was -built outdoors, and when burned down so as to secure a bright, large -bed of coals, a long, smooth stick was run through the pig lengthwise, -and smaller ones skewered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</span> the legs to the body. A piece of nice fat -pork was fastened on the stick where it entered the head. Thus firmly -fixed, one of the servants held the long stick with the pig on it -over the fire, slowly turning it round and round as it began to cook; -or, if he was needed elsewhere, one end of the stick was driven into -the ground, close to the coals, but only for a few minutes, when he -returned to continue to turn it round over the huge bed of coals. In -much less time than we need to cook a pig in our convenient kitchens, -the dweller under the cocoa-nut trees was beautifully browned, crisp, -and tender. In cooking, much of the fat from the pork filtered through, -and having given juice and relish to the meat, had, with a good deal -of fat from the pig, fallen into the ashes around the bed of coals, -leaving the meat rich and of peculiar sweetness and delicacy, without -being too greasy.</p> - -<p>We had not the good fortune to partake of it, but this, with others -cooked in a similar manner, was pronounced the most delicious meat -ever tasted, and we found no difficulty in believing it. Some of our -Northern cooks, with any amount of “modern improvements,” might try -this experiment with great success.</p> - -<p>Wild game, birds, rabbits, ducks, etc., are often cooked in a -similar manner. All wild birds are apt to be very dry, and if a thin -piece of pork is tied about them, while baking or roasting, till it -becomes brown and crisp, then removed, and the bird allowed to brown -delicately, it is a wonderful addition to the juiciness and flavor of -the game.</p> - -<p><b>Good Sausage Meat.</b>—Take two thirds ham and one third fat pork, -season well with nine teaspoonfuls of pepper, the same of salt, three -of powdered sage, and one of thyme or summer savory to every five -pounds of meat (not heaping teaspoonfuls, remember); warm the meat -enough so that you can mix it well with the hands; then pack in jars. -When needed, make up in small cakes and fry in a little butter, or -simply alone. But they must not be covered over, or they will fall to -pieces. Some like a little cinnamon added. Keep where it is cool, but -not damp.</p> - -<p><b>A Dutch Dish.</b>—Pare and slice as many potatoes as are needed for -the size of your family; put them into a deep dish; pour in as much -milk or cream as will fill the dish and not boil over. Stir in a little -salt and pepper; lay some slices of salt pork<span class="pagenum" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</span> cut thin over the top; -and bake two hours. Be careful and not put in too much salt, as the -pork will season it almost enough.</p> - - -<h3>SALADS AND OMELETS.</h3> - -<p><b>Chicken Salad.</b>—Well-fattened chickens, of medium size, tender -and delicate, make better salad than large, overgrown ones. Put them on -to cook in the morning, and save the water they are boiled in for soup. -When cold, remove the skin and cut the flesh in pieces, the size you -prefer. Some like the meat very coarse, others choose it quite fine. -This is entirely a matter of taste. When cut up, throw over the dish -a towel slightly damped in cold water, to keep the meat from drying. -Take the best celery you can get, and cut it of the size you wish. The -“fancy cooks” cut both celery and chicken in bits about one inch long -and half an inch thick, but we think the salad better cut finer. When -the celery is cut, put it between clean cloths to dry perfectly, and -then prepare the dressing. For dressing for two chickens, take three -fourths of a bottle of the purest salad-oil or thick sweet cream, two -scant table-spoonfuls of the best mustard, the yelks of two raw eggs -and of twelve hard-boiled ones. Put the eggs to be boiled in a saucepan -of cold water over a quick fire; bring to a boil, and let them boil -hard ten minutes, then drop them into cold water. When cool, remove the -shells. Break the raw eggs, and drop the yelks into a dish large enough -to make all the dressing in; beat them, stirring the same way, for ten -minutes; then slowly add the mustard, mix it with the eggs thoroughly, -then add a teaspoonful of the best vinegar, and, when this is well -mixed, add the oil, a drop at a time, stirring constantly and always -the same way. Then rub the yelks of the hard-boiled eggs very smooth, -and stir in as lightly as possible a teacup of vinegar; pour it slowly -into the first mixture, stirring with a silver fork. Now season the -chicken and celery with salt and pepper, and as soon as ready for use -pour on the dressing. If set where it is too cold in cold weather, the -dressing will curdle and be ruined.</p> - -<p><b>Italian Chicken Salad.</b>—Make a dressing in the proportion of -the yelks of three hard-boiled eggs, rubbed fine, one salt-spoonful -of salt, one of mustard, and one of cayenne pepper, one of white -sugar, four table-spoonfuls of salad-oil, and two table-spoonfuls<span class="pagenum" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</span> of -vinegar. Simmer this dressing over the fire, but don’t let it boil. -Stir constantly while over the fire. Then take a sufficient quantity -of the white meat of cold chicken for this quantity of dressing, or -increase in this proportion to the desired quantity; pull the white -meat into small flakes, pile it up in a dish, and pour the dressing on -it. Take two heads of fine, fresh lettuce that have been washed and -laid in water, take out the best part, cut it up, and arrange in a heap -around the chicken, heaped in the middle of the dish, and on the top of -this ridge place the whites of eggs, cut in rings and laid in form of a -chain. A portion of the lettuce to be helped with each plate of chicken.</p> - -<p><b>Lobster Salad.</b>—Boil the lobsters half an hour; when cold, -take from the shell; remove the vein in the back, which is not good. -Two heads of lettuce, one cup of melted butter, two table-spoonfuls -of mustard mixed with a little vinegar, is sufficient for six pounds -of lobster; after being taken from the shell, salt and pepper to your -taste, remembering that more can be added if not enough; but if too -much, it is not so easily rectified. Chop them together and put in the -salad-dish. Beat six eggs with a teacup of vinegar, put it over the -stove to thicken, stirring it all the time; when cold, spread over the -lobster.</p> - -<p><b>Potato Salad.</b>—Cut ten or twelve cold boiled potatoes into -slices from a quarter to half an inch thick; put into a salad-bowl with -four table-spoonfuls of tarragon or plain vinegar, six table-spoonfuls -of best salad-oil, one teaspoonful of minced parsley, and pepper and -salt to taste; stir well that all be thoroughly mixed. It should be -made two or three hours before needed on the table. Anchovies, olives, -or any pickles may be added to this salad, as also slices of cold beef, -chicken, or turkey, if desired.</p> - -<p><b>Plain Omelet.</b>—Put your omelet-pan on the stove with a spoonful -of butter; keep it so hot that the butter will almost brown in it, but -not quite; break six fresh eggs into a clean bowl; if fresh, the whites -will be clear and the yelks quite round; add a teaspoonful of milk for -every egg, and whip the whole as thoroughly as for sponge-cake. When -light, put the whipped eggs and milk into the omelet-pan and set it -directly over the fire. As it begins to cool, take a thin-bladed knife -and run it carefully under the bottom of the egg, so as to let that -which is not cooked run<span class="pagenum" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</span> beneath. If the fire is right, the whole mass -will instantly puff and swell and cook in a minute, but great care is -needed that it does not burn on the bottom, as scorched egg is very -disagreeable and would ruin the whole. It is not necessary to wait till -the whole mass is solid, for its own heat will cook it after it has -been taken up, but begin to clear it at one side at once and carefully.</p> - -<p><b>Puff Omelet.</b>—Take the yelks of six eggs and the whites of -three; beat very light. Take a teacup of cream (milk will answer) -and mix with it very smoothly one table-spoonful of flour; salt and -pepper to suit your taste; pour this into the beaten eggs. Melt a great -spoonful of butter in a pan, and when hot pour in the mixture and set -the pan into a hot oven. When it thickens up, pour over it the other -three whites that were saved out, which you must have all ready, beaten -very light. Return to the oven just long enough for a delicate brown, -then slip out on a dish so that the top part shall remain uppermost.</p> - -<p><b>Oyster Omelet.</b>—Beat four eggs very light; cut out the hard -part, or eye, from a dozen oysters; wipe them dry and cut into small -pieces; stir them into the beaten egg, and fry in hot butter. When the -under side is a light brown, sprinkle a very little salt and pepper -over the top, and fold one half of the omelet over the other. Never -turn an omelet; it makes it heavy and ruins it.</p> - -<p><b>Omelet with Jelly.</b>—Beat separately the yelks and whites of -four fresh eggs; add to the yelks sufficient sugar to sweeten to your -taste, and an even dessert-spoonful of corn flour very smoothly beaten -in a table-spoonful of cream. Beat this with the yelks till perfectly -smooth, and stir in the well-beaten whites very gently, so as to break -the froth as little as possible; pour the whole into a frying-pan in -which some butter has been melted, but drain off the butter before -adding the eggs, etc. Put it over the fire,—two or three minutes will -cook the under side; hold the pan to the fire till the under side looks -firm, then spread raspberry or strawberry jam over one half; turn the -other over it, and serve immediately.</p> - -<p><b>Baked Omelet.</b>—Boil half a pint of milk; beat six eggs -thoroughly, yelks and whites separately; put half a teaspoonful of salt -and a piece of butter half as large as an egg to the boiling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</span> milk; -stir it into the beaten eggs; pour all instantly into a deep dish and -bake. If the oven is hot, five minutes will bake it; not quite so hot -an oven and a little longer time will be better,—say ten minutes. It -should be of a delicate brown on top, and eaten right from the oven.</p> - -<p><b>Omelette Soufflee.</b>—Beat the whites of four eggs to a stiff -froth; then add the yelks well beaten, with three table-spoonfuls of -powdered sugar and the rind and juice of one lemon. Beat all well -together, and bake in a moderately hot oven five minutes; serve -immediately.</p> - - -<h3>EGGS.</h3> - -<p><b>Boiled Eggs.</b>—Be sure and select fresh eggs for boiling, never -more than a week old. Have the water just boiling; if boiling fiercely -when the eggs are put in, it will crack the shell. Three minutes will -boil an egg soft; five minutes will be necessary if you like them hard, -and ten or twelve minutes if needed for salad; in the latter case they -should be thrown into cold water the instant they are taken from the -boiling water, else the white will be dark colored or clouded. When -perfectly new, an egg requires about half a minute longer boiling than -if four or five days old.</p> - -<p><b>Fried Eggs.</b>—The fat left after frying ham, or that which is -left in the bake-pan after browning a ham, is better for frying eggs -than lard or butter. See that it is boiling hot, but not discolored, -and drop the eggs in one at a time. Let them cook half a minute, then -dip up some of the boiling fat from the pan, and pour over them. -Continue to do this till they are done, and it will not be necessary -to turn them over, which endangers breaking the yelk. Two and a half -minutes should cook them sufficiently. When dropping them in, hold the -cup into which you break each one close to the pan, and let the egg -slip in as easily as possible, so that it will not spread in a ragged -surface over the pan.</p> - -<p><b>Poached Eggs.</b>—While boiling a pint of milk, beat six eggs to a -froth. Just before the milk begins to boil, add half a table-spoonful -of butter and a teaspoonful of salt, and stir into it; then pour in the -eggs, stir without ceasing, but gently, till it thickens,—not more -than two minutes. Take it from the stove or range, and continue to stir -half a minute or so, and then pour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</span> it over two or three thin slices of -toasted bread which has been spread with butter, and all prepared in a -deep dish before the eggs are put into the milk. This is very nice for -breakfast.</p> - -<p><b>Hard Scrabbled.</b>—Put two teaspoonfuls of butter into a -frying-pan; beat six eggs; season with pepper and salt. When the butter -is very hot, but not scorched, put in the eggs; stir until it thickens, -and serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>Fricasseed Eggs, or Egg Baskets.</b>—Boil hard half a dozen eggs or -more, according to the size of your family. When done, throw into cold -water immediately. (This should always be done with hard-boiled eggs, -else the yelk will turn black.) Cut the eggs in half after taking from -the cold water. Rub the yelks in a marble or wedgewood mortar, or with -a silver or wooden spoon, with some melted butter, pepper, and salt, -to a smooth paste; and, if you know it will be agreeable to all, add a -very little made mustard. Pound the finely minced meat of a cold fowl, -or grind some cold tongue or ham, and having made it smooth, mix with -the egg-paste, moistening as you proceed with a little gravy, or, if -you have none to spare, with melted butter. Cut a thin slice from the -bottom of the white of the egg, so that it will stand, and fill each of -the hard whites with this paste. Place close together on a flat dish, -and pour over the gravy left from the roast fowl yesterday, heated -boiling hot, into which a few spoonfuls of cream or rich milk have -been stirred. Cover closely with a hot cover, and let them stand a few -minutes before sending to table. If liked, a little parsley, chopped -fine, may be added, to the taste.</p> - -<p>Excellent for breakfast when eggs are plenty.</p> - -<p><b>Egg Toast.</b>—Put some milk to boil in a farina-kettle; when -it comes to a full boil, take from over the fire and break in your -eggs; let them stand in the hot milk from eight to ten minutes, but -not over the fire. Steam a light biscuit, or, if you prefer, some -Graham bread till soft, or dip it into boiling milk and lay the egg on -it, sprinkling over a little salt and pepper. If desired, after the -biscuit is steamed or moistened in hot milk, you can spread a little -butter over it before the egg is put on it. This is a pretty breakfast -dish, and much more healthy than when the eggs are boiled, fried, or -made into an omelet, as the albumen (or white of the egg), being only -slightly cooked, is much more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</span> digestible. If careful not to scorch it, -it is better to boil in an iron kettle rather than the farina-kettle, -as iron will retain the heat longer than tin when taken from the fire. -Cooked in boiling water rather than milk, eggs are said to be even more -digestible, but they are not so palatable.</p> - -<p><b>Scrambled Eggs.</b>—Put into a spider enough butter just to oil the -bottom; set it on the stove. Break the eggs into a dish, taking care -not to break the yelks. As soon as the spider is heated, slip in the -eggs, adding a piece of butter as large as a walnut for twelve eggs; -season with very little salt and pepper. When the eggs harden a little, -stir the eggs from the bottom of the spider until cooked to suit. The -yelks and whites should be separate, though stirred together; not -mixed, like beaten eggs.</p> - -<p><b>Scrambled Eggs.</b>—Melt a table-spoonful of butter in a saucepan; -beat the yelks of six eggs a few minutes; then add to them six -table-spoonfuls of milk and a teaspoonful of salt, beat a little -longer, and pour them into the melted butter. When they thicken -slightly, pour in the whites unbeaten, and mix them with the yelks -carefully with a fork, and serve on pieces of toast in a hot dish, or -if preferred omit the bread. The whites should not be beaten in hard, -only stirred with the fork enough to mix in slightly with the rest.</p> - -<p><b>Dropped Eggs.</b>—Have ready a saucepan of boiling water. Throw -in a little salt. Break fresh eggs into a cup, one by one, and gently -drop each into the water so as not to break the yelk or have the -white spread much. Dip the boiling water over the yelk with a large -spoon until the white sets; then with an egg-slice take each egg out -separately upon buttered toast. Dress the dish with sprigs of parsley; -sprinkle over a little salt if not seasoned sufficiently by the salted -water. It is safer to cook one egg at a time, keeping the dish covered -into which they are placed after being cooked, or where it will keep -hot.</p> - -<p><b>Cottage Cheese.</b>—Take half sour milk, when well thickened, -before it has been stirred, and half buttermilk, at least twenty-four -hours old; set the dishes containing the milk and buttermilk separately -over kettles of hot water till the clear whey just begins to rise to -the top. Do not let it get too hot, or the cheese will be hard and -tasteless. When the whey has risen, pour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</span> both into a strainer-cloth -or bag; tie it at the top, and hang it up to drain. If prepared for -draining in the morning, by the middle of the afternoon it will be -sufficiently free from whey. Then turn it out of the strainer and -crumble all up fine; throw in a little salt and black pepper, rub in -a table-spoonful of butter, and moisten with milk till soft enough to -make into small pats or rolls for tea. If you have cream to wet it up -with, use no butter. If you like it quite soft, add more milk or cream, -and put the cheese into a deep dish, without attempting to make into -balls.</p> - -<p><b>Cheese Toast.</b>—Without great care, there is danger of much -waste after a rich cheese is cut, and part sent to the table daily. If -servants are allowed to cut it, waste would seem inevitable; but if the -mistress looks after the cheese, there are many nice relishes to be -made from the crumbs and dried pieces.</p> - -<p>Take five table-spoonfuls of rich cheese, grated (the “crumbles” and -dry bits are as good as if cut for this purpose from the cheese), mix -with it the yelk of one egg, four ounces of grated bread, and two -table-spoonfuls of butter. Beat it all in a mortar,—a marble one if -you have it,—adding a dessert-spoonful of mustard and a little salt -and pepper. Toast some slices of bread, lay the paste upon them quite -thick; put it into the oven a few minutes and send to the table hot.</p> - - -<h3>VEGETABLES.</h3> - -<p>Much care in selecting vegetables is necessary, but still more in -preparing them for the table. It is to be regretted that so little -attention is given to this. Half the enjoyment that should be derived -from the abundance of the best varieties which our farms and markets -offer in every summer season is lost by unskillful cooking. So evident -is this fact, that it appears quite important to call the particular -attention of <i>young housekeepers</i> to this part of their duty. -We are so much in earnest, and deem this part of their labors so -worthy of extra care, that no doubt those who think us quite too -particular and whimsical in our inculcations of extreme neatness in -household management will find the same grounds for objection here. We -would suggest that those who feel inclined to raise these objections -should overlook everything and every place about their houses, and -attend with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</span> their own hands to all that ought to be done <i>for one -month</i>. We imagine that, should they do this, their experience of -the beauty of great cleanliness, and the added luxury and pleasure of -their table comforts, would justify our teachings.</p> - -<p>Of course it is only those who raise vegetables themselves who can -enjoy in the highest degree the pleasure of eating them. No luxury -of this kind, peas, corn, beans, salads, etc., can ever be had in -perfection when gathered overnight and brought to the market or the -store, lying for hours it may be before they are used. But even after -such exposure and waste of the finer flavors, they can be made more -palatable by proper cooking.</p> - -<p>Almost all vegetables are better <i>steamed</i> than boiled, as all -the juices are secured by this method; particularly is this true in -cooking corn and peas. A large kettle half filled with boiling water, a -<i>steamer</i> fitting closely in the top of the kettle, and the cover -fitting as closely to the steamer, answers very well when there is no -better way. But there are now in market various kinds of steamers for -cooking, which profess to make it a very convenient mode of preparing -food. The “Peerless,” one of the best cooking-stoves we have ever -known, has a large steamer of the size and shape of a wash-boiler, with -two perforated compartments in which to put the various articles to be -cooked, and we have found it exceedingly convenient for steaming all -kinds of vegetables. We have elsewhere mentioned the “Rumford Boiler,” -the “Warren Cooker,” etc. A large amount of corn—for those who can -gather sweet corn right from the stalk are not likely to be satisfied -with a <i>small</i> mess—can be placed in one part; peas in a dish, -all seasoned, set beside the corn; potatoes, beets, cauliflower, each -in separate dish, can find a place in this large steamer, and cooked -without losing any of their richness, yet, all being in one large -receptacle, less room is occupied on the stove than when each article -is put in a separate kettle.</p> - -<p><b>Corn.</b>—Like peas and most summer produce, corn should be used as -soon as plucked. Husk, silk, and put into <i>boiling</i> water as soon -as possible after it is brought from the garden. Let it boil twenty -minutes, or, if large kernels and cob, thirty.</p> - -<p>The small early corn that will not cook in fifteen or twenty minutes is -too old, or wholly worthless for cooking. As soon as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</span> the corn is done, -put it on the plates with a napkin under, and send it to the table hot. -If you prefer it cut from the cob, as soon as it is cooked cut it off, -and to three pints of corn put one spoonful of butter, with pepper and -salt to suit your taste; put in but a little at first and then taste -(always remember that in seasoning you can <i>add</i> if needed, but -cannot easily <i>take away</i>), add a cup and a half of good cream, or -if you must use milk instead, put in half a spoonful more butter. Have -boiling water in the under part of your farina-kettle, and pour your -corn into the upper. Set over the fire till just ready to boil, then -dish and send to the table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—With a thin, sharp knife, cut the corn from the -cob before cooking, being careful not to cut so closely as to take -the horny point that fastens the kernel to the cob. Put the corn into -the farina-kettle as above directed, with a little salt, pepper, two -cups cream, one spoonful butter, or two cups sweet milk and two great -spoonfuls of butter. Be sure and scrape all the milk from the cob when -you have cut off the kernels, or squeeze it out with your hand. It adds -more to the richness of the dish than you would at first imagine. Set -the kettle over the fire and let it boil fifteen minutes. It will take -less time to cook than when boiled on the cob.</p> - -<p><b>Boiling Potatoes.</b>—To boil potatoes well requires more attention -than is usually given. They should be well washed, and left standing in -cold water an hour or two, to remove the black liquor with which they -are impregnated, and a brackish taste they would otherwise have. They -should not be pared before boiling; they lose much of the starch by -so doing, and are made insipid. Put them into a kettle of clear cold -water, with a little salt, cover closely and boil rapidly, using no -more water than will just cover them, as they produce a considerable -quantity of fluid themselves while boiling, and too much water will -make them heavy. As soon as <i>just</i> done, instantly pour off the -water, set them back on the range, and leave the cover off the saucepan -till the steam has evaporated. They will then, if a good kind, be dry -and mealy. This is an Irish receipt, and a good one.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—Put them, with skins on, into a kettle of hot -water; let them come just to the boiling point, and pour in a cup<span class="pagenum" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</span> of -cold water, and, as the Irish say, the boiling is “backed.” Repeat this -till the potato is tender. The object is to keep the water just on the -verge of boiling, but check it by a little cold water till the potato -is done.</p> - -<p><b>To Boil New Potatoes.</b>—When fresh dug take the small potatoes -not quite ripe, wash clean, then rub the skin off with the hand—never -use a knife—and put them into boiling water with a little salt; boil -quickly; when done, drain dry and lay into a dish, spreading a little -butter over them, or boil some new milk, put in a great spoonful of -butter, and thicken with a little flour wet smooth with milk. When the -potatoes are cooked and laid in the dish pour this <i>dip</i> over -them. This is very nice.</p> - -<p><b>Mashed Potatoes.</b>—Boil with skins on; when done, peel quickly, -and put, as you peel, into a saucepan over the stove, but not hot -enough to burn; mash free from lumps to a smooth paste; have ready, -before peeling the potatoes, a piece of butter half the size of an egg, -melted, and half a cup of sweet milk, with pepper and salt to taste; -when the potatoes are mashed smooth, pour in the milk and butter, and -work it quick and smooth, then dish; dress the top with a knife so as -to be round and smooth, rub on a little beaten egg, and brown in the -oven very delicately. Serve with fowls or roast meat.</p> - -<p><b>Potato Croquettes.</b>—Boil potatoes with just enough water to -cover; when three quarters done pour off the water and let them steam -to finish cooking; then press them through a wire sieve; this done, put -them into a stewpan, adding one ounce butter to one quart potatoes, -and the well-beaten yelks of two eggs; mix together thoroughly; then -flour the paste-board, divide the potato paste into square parts and -roll them on the board to any shape,—balls, pears, corks, or what you -choose,—dip them in egg and bread crumbs, and fry in hot fat to a -light brown.</p> - -<p><b>Saratoga Fried Potatoes.</b>—Wash the potatoes clean, slice with -a potato-slicer very thin, throw into cold water long enough to take -out some of the starch, then wipe dry and put into boiling lard, a few -pieces at a time; be sure and keep the lard boiling; as soon as the -potatoes are of a clear golden brown, skim out, drain in a colander or -sieve, and serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>Scalloped Potatoes.</b>—Boil in the skins. Peel quickly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</span> when -done, and rub through a colander or coarse sieve, or mash smoothly; -season highly with salt, pepper, and butter; add two or three -hard-boiled eggs chopped fine. Four eggs to a quart of mashed potatoes -are nice; but if eggs are not plenty, two will do. Fill a bake-dish -with it, and bake long enough to form a delicately brown crust. Serve -as soon as taken from the oven.</p> - -<p><b>Snow Potatoes.</b>—Boil till just done; peel and throw into a -colander or coarse sieve; break them up a little; then sprinkle in a -little salt; add as much butter as for common mashed potatoes, and -enough milk to enable you to rub them easily through the colander. They -will, if not too moist, come through in strings and fall in a light -snowy mass into the vegetable-dish, which should be placed underneath. -Do not stir it, but send to the table just as it falls into the dish.</p> - -<p><b>Potato Cakes.</b>—Grate one teacup of raw ham, mix it with a quart -of finely mashed potatoes; beat and stir into this two eggs, add -pepper, salt (not too much), and a little mustard,—a small teaspoonful -is not too much if you like it highly seasoned,—roll in balls and fry -a light brown. Sage and sweet-marjoram can be added if their taste is -agreeable.</p> - -<p><b>To Fry Sweet Potatoes.</b>—Pare, slice thin, fry in hot lard, like -fritters, and sprinkle with a little salt as they are taken from the -lard.</p> - -<p><b>Maccaroni.</b>—Boil a quarter of a pound of maccaroni in clear -water till tender. While boiling, thicken half a pint of boiling milk -with enough flour to make it as stiff as thick cream; add half a -table-spoonful of butter and two table-spoonfuls of cream, half a small -teaspoonful of mustard, a little pepper (white if you have it, if not -black will answer), a little salt, and a very little cayenne pepper. -Stir into this a quarter of a pound of grated cheese. Boil this all -together a few moments, stirring it constantly to prevent its burning, -then drain the water from the maccaroni, and stir it into the thickened -milk; let it boil up a few moments, and serve hot; or, if preferred, -after dishing it, set the dish in the oven and let it brown. For -variety, a little parsley chopped fine and stirred in before adding the -maccaroni is considered an improvement.</p> - -<p>Another very good way to prepare maccaroni is, boil it fifteen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</span> or -twenty minutes in clear water, then drain it, and use chicken or veal -broth instead of milk for the seasoning.</p> - -<p>Another: Prepare as above or with milk, and just before it is done beat -up two eggs and stir in.</p> - -<p><b>Egg-Plant.</b>—Take the fruit fully ripe; cut in slices not more -than a quarter of an inch thick, and put it to soak in cold salted -water for two hours. This removes a black, bitter property, said to be -unhealthful, certainly disagreeable; then wipe the slices on a clean -cloth, dip in the white of egg and fry in boiling hot butter till well -browned, but be careful not to scorch them; serve hot.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—Pare and quarter two or three egg-plants, -according to the size of your family. Soak them in salt and water, as -directed above, then boil till soft enough to mash like turnips. Mash -them smooth, add a few bread crumbs soaked in milk, and one or two -table-spoonfuls of butter, according to the quantity; a little chopped -parsley, an onion boiled and mashed, and salt and pepper. Mix all -thoroughly; pour into a baking-dish, cover the top with grated bread, -and bake for a half-hour. Serve hot. For a fancy dish some boil the -plant till soft, then cut in halves and scoop out the flesh, leaving -the skin whole. Mash the inside smooth, and dress as above. Mix well, -and stew half an hour, then put it back into the shell or skin; strew -bread crumbs over, and brown slightly.</p> - -<p>Cucumbers after they begin to turn yellow, and muskmelons that come on -too late to ripen, may be sliced and fried like the egg-plant, and can -scarcely be distinguished from it. Some think they are better.</p> - -<p><b>Fricasseed Egg-plant.</b>—Peel and slice the egg-plant; lay the -slices in salt-water two hours, to remove the bitterness and the black -which it would otherwise have; after soaking, drain off all the water; -have enough boiling water in a clean, bright saucepan to cover the -slices; throw in a table-spoonful of salt, and lay in the egg-plant; -let them boil till thoroughly cooked; then drain off the water, pour -in sufficient milk to cover the slices, and add two table-spoonfuls -of butter, rolled in flour; let it simmer gently, shake the pan over -the fire till the sauce is thick, and then stir in the beaten yelks of -three eggs just before serving.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</span></p> - -<p><b>To Stew Tomatoes.</b>—Pour boiling water over fair and fully ripe -tomatoes, that you may peel them quickly; let the water remain only -long enough to start the skin. When peeled, cut into an earthen pipkin -or a porcelain-lined kettle, as tin or iron turns them dark and gives -a bad taste. If onions are agreeable, cut one small one in with the -tomatoes. Cover closely and set where they will gently simmer, but -not boil hard. Stir them occasionally to prevent burning, and when -they have cooked two hours add salt and pepper to suit your own taste, -and to a quart of tomatoes add a table-spoonful and a half of sugar, -and two and a half even spoonfuls of bread or cracker crumbs. After -the crumbs are added stir often or they will stick to the bottom of -the dish and soon burn. Twenty minutes before dinner beat two eggs, -or if you have more than a quart of tomatoes increase the number in -the proportion of two eggs to a quart; stir briskly and often after -the eggs are added, and serve hot. If possible the tomatoes should be -skinned and on the back part of the stove before breakfast, as the -longer they simmer the better they will be. Three hours’ slow cooking -at least, <i>five is better</i>. If prepared according to rule, they -are thought very nice by tomato-lovers, and are better warmed over the -second day than they were the first.</p> - -<p><b>Baked Tomatoes.</b>—Peel and slice good, firm, but ripe tomatoes; -put them in a pudding-dish, season with pepper, salt, two great -spoonfuls of sugar to a quart of tomatoes, and one spoonful of butter. -Sprinkle some finely powdered bread crumbs over the top and bake slowly -two hours.</p> - -<p>To add two well-beaten eggs is thought by some to improve this dish.</p> - -<p><b>Scalloped Tomatoes.</b>—Peel as many large, ripe tomatoes as you -wish to prepare; cut them in slices a quarter of an inch thick; pack -in a pudding-dish first a layer of tomatoes, then a thick layer of -bread crumbs, pepper, salt, a little white sugar, and a teaspoonful -of butter; then a layer of tomatoes, then bread crumbs, etc., till -the dish is nearly full, having tomatoes last. Now dust over pepper, -a little sugar, and more butter; strew the top with bread crumbs, and -bake, <i>covered</i>, half an hour; then remove the cover, and bake -brown, but be careful not to scorch.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</span></p> - -<p>We have received from a South Carolina lady the two following -receipts:—</p> - -<p><b>Boiled Rice.</b>—One pint of rice, as new as it can be had,—old -rice has a dead taste,—to one quart of boiling water and one -table-spoonful of salt. Boil briskly a few minutes, until the water -seems absorbed; then, keeping it closely covered, set on one side of -the stove, where it can be kept hot and steam itself done,—not become -soft and mushy. In about half an hour it will be cooked sufficiently. -Serve very hot with the meats, like potatoes. If cooked soft and -watery, and stirred till gluey—as is so often done—it would not be -thought eatable at the South. <i>Never</i> stir more than once, and -then only when it first boils. Some prefer only one pint of water to -one pint of rice.</p> - -<p><b>Cooking Rice.</b>—Pick over and wash a cup of rice; cover with cold -water, and set where it will cook slowly. When the rice has absorbed -all the water, pour in a cup of milk; stir often and cook slowly; in -ten or fifteen minutes it will take up all the milk; then add another -cup, and so on, till the rice is soft, then add a little salt, and -dish. Eat with meat, or as dessert; if the latter, sweeten rich sweet -cream and grate in nutmeg, and use as sauce to the pudding.</p> - -<p><b>Peas.</b>—To prepare any article of food in the <i>best</i> way -should not be thought “too much trouble.” Many kinds of early peas are -dry, almost tasteless, and if what sweetness there may be in the pod -is not added to the peas to remedy this deficiency, they will be very -insipid.</p> - -<p>“Carter’s Full Crop” and the “Daniel O’Rourke” are among our earliest, -but neither is a very sweet pea. To use these with any enjoyment, -<i>securing</i> all the saccharine properties of the pod, is very -essential. They are of the smooth, round kind, and these are never as -sweet as the <i>wrinkled</i> peas,—that is, those that wrinkle in -boiling or drying.</p> - -<p>“The Little Gem” and the “Champion of England” are later, but among -our best and sweetest peas. They do not need the juices of the pod so -much in cooking, but we think are enough sweeter and richer for it to -pay for the trouble. Some cooks throw in a little sugar to increase -the flavor, as they use <i>soda</i> to make them tender; but don’t -do it unless your taste is so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</span> deficient that you can be satisfied -with simple sweetness and tenderness, without regard to rich, genuine -flavor. For such, any tasteless thing, so that it is sweet and tender, -is as good as peas.</p> - -<p><b>Green Peas.</b>—The first rule is to use the peas fresh from the -vines, every hour’s delay in cooking after they are gathered destroys -something of their finest flavor. Wash them <i>before</i> shelling, -<i>never after</i>. Shell and pick over nicely. First put in the -<i>fresh pods</i>. Press them down, leaving only water enough to cover -them. Let them boil fifteen minutes, then skim out, and put in the -peas. If there is more than enough water to cover the peas after the -pods have been removed, pour it out. Let them boil fifteen or twenty -minutes. Peas that require more than twenty minutes, or need soda to -make them tender, are only fit for soup. When done, put what butter -is needed into the dish, and pour the peas on it, adding a little -pepper. Some prefer them dry, and drain them through a strainer, -but we think some of the water in which they were boiled is a very -great improvement. The amount of butter needed must be decided by the -quantity of peas and the taste. Boiling the pods adds greatly to the -sweetness and richness of the peas.</p> - -<p><b>Beans.</b>—The dwarf wax beans are among the best string-beans. -The pod is very tender and white, almost transparent when cooked. The -Valentine is also very good. Of the pole-beans the Horticultural and -Lima are the best. If you cannot raise the Lima, the Saba is a good -substitute, though by no means equal to it.</p> - -<p>In cooking the wax bean, simply cut off the ends, and snap the pod in -small bits. Put salt into boiling water and then put in the beans. -If the salt is thrown in before the vegetables, they retain their -color; but if salt is added <i>after</i> they are in hot water, they -will be of a faded olive color when cooked, and not so well flavored. -String-beans should cook a full hour unless very tender. When done put -in your vegetable-dish some butter, allowing an even great spoonful to -a pint of string-beans; add a little pepper and pour the beans upon -it, with some of the water in which they were boiled. Like peas, some -prefer them quite moist; those who do not can easily be suited by -having theirs<span class="pagenum" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</span> taken out free from the liquor. Lima beans are not good -to use for <i>string-beans</i>, but the bean itself is delicious. It -requires a full hour to boil. When ready to dish, season the same as -peas or string-beans. Many consider cream an addition both for peas and -beans, but we think much of the peculiar delicacy is lost by it. The -more simple such articles can be prepared the more of the true flavor -is retained.</p> - -<p><b>Asparagus.</b>—Wash it clean, but do not leave in water. Cut off -all of the white ends that are woody and tough, and when ready to -boil tie up the stalks in a neat bunch, lay them in the saucepan, -sprinkle over as much salt as is needed to season, then just cover -the bunch or bunches with boiling water. Cook twenty minutes. When -done, take the asparagus out and with a sharp knife cut off any part -that has not cooked tender and throw away. Then cut the stalks up into -pieces half an inch long and put them back into the saucepan with two -table-spoonfuls of butter to each good-sized bunch; a little pepper, -one cup of good cream, and enough finely rolled bread crumbs to thicken -it a little, say only two even table-spoonfuls. If there is enough -water left after boiling to make the dish too liquid, pour off part -of it before returning the asparagus, cream, and bread crumbs to the -saucepan. Let it all boil up for two or three minutes, then dish and -send to the table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Spinach.</b>—Pick and wash it with great care. Put into a saucepan -that will just hold it; sprinkle in some salt, and pour over only one -cup and a half of boiling water; cover close, set on the stove, and -shake the pan often to prevent the spinach from burning. When done, -beat it up with a little butter and pepper. It should come to the table -quite dry. It looks nicely when pressed into a mold in the form of a -leaf. Serve with poached eggs.</p> - -<p><b>To Boil Cabbage.</b>—Wash very thoroughly in cold water; look -between the leaves, where insects and worms are very often secreted; -then put into boiling water, some say without any salt; we prefer to -add salt, when half done; boil quickly till tender; then take it out -with a skimmer into a colander or sieve, and drain free from all water. -Season with a little butter and pepper.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</span></p> - -<p><b>To Boil Cabbage with Meat.</b>—Select small, white, firm heads; -cut in quarters; examine carefully; then lay the quarters an hour in -cold salted water, to drive out any insects that may have escaped your -observation. Skim all the fat from the pot in which the pork or beef -is boiling, and put in the cabbage while the water boils; cook till -tender; then drain, and serve as whole and compact as possible. If the -meat is to be used cold, take out some of the water in which it is -boiling, and put in another kettle and boil the cabbage in that, as it -gives a disagreeable taste to meat when cold.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—After washing and examining the cabbage, put it -into a kettle of fast-boiling water, into which you have put some salt -and a small bit of soda. Press it down into the water, then let it boil -quickly eight minutes; have on hand another kettle of fast-boiling -water prepared as above, and transfer the cabbage to that; press it -down into the water and let it boil twelve minutes more; meanwhile -throw away the first water and prepare more like it; after the second -boiling remove the cabbage once more to another water, and boil ten -minutes if the cabbage is small, twenty if large; then take it up in a -colander, lay a plate over, and drain well; dish on toasted bread that -has been dipped in drawn butter, and pour a little over the cabbage.</p> - -<p><b>Cabbage like Cauliflower.</b>—Chop a good, solid head of cabbage -fine, as if for cold slaw. Put it into boiling water. Boil till tender; -then drain quite free from water; season with salt, pepper, and butter; -add a cup of cream or milk, and simmer a few minutes. Send to table hot.</p> - -<p><b>Cauliflower.</b>—Soak the head two hours in salt and water, and -boil until tender in milk and water, if you have plenty of milk, if -not, boiling water will answer. Serve whole with drawn butter, or cut -it up and season richly with butter, and a little pepper and salt. The -first way is the most stylish, the last the most palatable. In either -case it must be well drained.</p> - -<p><b>Hot-Slaw.</b>—Cut a firm white head of cabbage in thin shreds; put -it into boiling water; cook till tender; only just cover with water, so -that when done there may be hardly any remaining. Just before dishing, -add to one good-sized head half a teacupful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</span> of good cider vinegar and -a piece of butter half the size of an egg, with salt and pepper to suit -your taste.</p> - -<p><b>Cold Slaw.</b>—Shave a firm head of cabbage fine; put a teaspoonful -of salt, the same of sugar, and a little pepper into a small cup of -vinegar, and pour over the cabbage.</p> - -<p><b>To Cook Onions.</b>—The strong, disagreeable taste and smell from -onions may be in a large degree removed by leaving them to soak in cold -salt and water an hour after the outside skin has been removed; then -boil them in milk and water till thoroughly tender; lay into a deep -dish, season with pepper and salt, and pour over them drawn butter.</p> - - -<h3>CAKE.</h3> - - -<h4>GENERAL RULES.</h4> - -<p>First examine the range or stove. See that the ashes are shaken out, -and sufficient coal added to keep the oven in working order till your -cake is put together and baked; for fuel should never be added while -bread or cake is baking. See if the dampers are all right, and ovens -at the proper heat,—a slow, even heat for rich cake, a quick heat for -plain cake.</p> - -<p>The range being in proper condition, next collect all the ingredients -to be used. Line the tins with buttered paper.</p> - -<p>Sift the flour, then weigh or measure it and the sugar, butter, fruit, -and milk. Baking-powder or cream of tartar should always be sifted -in with the flour, which should then be covered up, and set near the -fire to dry while you are getting other articles ready. If Jewell’s -<i>prepared</i> flour is used, no salt, soda, or cream of tartar is -needed for anything; and those ingredients may be omitted in using the -following receipts.</p> - -<p>Dissolve soda in a little cold water.</p> - -<p>Put the eggs in cold water. They will beat easier and lighter. Beat -yelks and whites separately.</p> - -<p>Never mix sweet and sour milk.</p> - -<p>When fruit is to be used, it is always better to pick it over, slice or -stone, and, if need be, wash and dry it, the evening before, covering -it over closely, to keep from the heat and air.</p> - -<p>Everything being now in readiness, put the butter into a deep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</span> earthen -dish. Stir it with a wooden spoon till soft, then add sugar, and beat -until light and white, like thick cream. Next add the yelks of the -eggs well beaten, then a little of the flour, and very gradually the -milk, beating the batter steadily; then add spices, and the whites, -well beaten to a very stiff foam, with the remainder of the flour, -alternately. Now beat the batter till all is thoroughly combined, and -you will be sure of light, fine-grained cake.</p> - -<p>Fruit should be rolled in flour and added the last thing, or add it in -alternate layers with the batter, as you fill it into the pans. Use -some of the flour weighed out for the cake to dredge the fruit.</p> - -<p>So far it is well; but quite as much depends on baking, as in the -preparation of the cake, and if you have not the most trusty, reliable -servants, your watch and care is not ended.</p> - -<p>Unless a <i>raised cake</i>, it should be put into the oven as soon as -you have put it into the pans, opening the oven door, after the cake is -in, as seldom as consistent with proper oversight, as a draught of cold -air passing through the oven will tend to make the cake heavy.</p> - -<p>If the oven is too hot, cover the cake for a while with a piece of -brown paper.</p> - -<p>Whenever you buy a broom, break off a few of the splints; tie them up -and lay away safely to use in <i>trying</i> cake. It is not pleasant -to think of using a splint from a broom that has been used in sweeping -a kitchen floor, or any other floor, however nicely kept. Try the cake -with one of these clean splints, or a small knitting-needle. If it -comes out quite free from any particle of batter, the cake is done.</p> - -<p>Cake keeps fresher to be allowed to remain in the pan in which it was -baked; but if necessary to remove it, place it on the top of a sieve -until quite cold, when it may be frosted if desirable, and put into a -large stone pot, or cake-safe, and covered with clean linen.</p> - -<p>Steam stale cake, and eat with a nice hot sauce, and you have a very -good pudding.</p> - -<p><b>Loaf Cake.</b>—Two cups sugar; two of milk; two of flour; one of -yeast; make into a sponge overnight. In the morning, if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</span> this sponge is -light, beat together two cups sugar, one of butter, and four eggs; add -these to the sponge with enough more flour to make it quite stiff; add -spice and fruit to suit the taste; a cup and a half of stoned raisins, -well floured, and half a cup of citron cut thin and in small pieces. -Raise till light, and bake in an even oven.</p> - -<p><b>Mrs. Breedley’s Fruit Cake.</b>—Five eggs; five cups of flour; two -and a half cups of sugar; one and a half cups butter, and two cups -sour milk; two cups raisins. Beat sugar and butter to a cream; add the -egg-yelks and whites, beaten separately; then three cups of the flour -and the milk; beat well and then add one gill wine, cloves and cinnamon -to suit your taste, and the remainder of the flour; and last, one -teaspoonful soda dissolved in a very little water. Bake as soon as put -together.</p> - -<p>Spices, in all receipts, may be increased or diminished to suit the -taste. One nutmeg and a teaspoonful of other spices will be a medium -allowance; cloves are generally undesirable, except in fruit cake.</p> - -<p><b>Rosie’s Raised Cake.</b>—Three cups bread dough, two cups sugar, -one cup butter, or half cup butter and half cup lard, two eggs, nutmeg -to suit the taste, one wineglass of wine, half a teaspoonful of soda, -one pound of raisins chopped or stoned; beat all thoroughly together, -and let it stand to rise till quite light. Always roll raisins in -plenty of flour before putting into the dough, to prevent their sinking.</p> - -<p><b>Fruit Cake.</b>—Three cups sugar, half a pound butter, four cups -flour, three eggs well beaten, one cup of milk, two nutmegs, two -pounds of raisins stoned, one pound Zante currants, or half a pound of -preserved orange peel sliced very thin and cut fine, one teaspoonful -soda. Bake two hours and a half.</p> - -<p><b>Farmer’s Fruit Cake.</b>—Three cupfuls of sour dried-apples soaked -overnight in warm water. In the morning drain off the water, chop not -too fine, leaving the apple about as large as raisins, then simmer in -two cupfuls of molasses two hours or until quite done, that is, until -the apple has absorbed all the molasses; one and a half cupfuls of -butter well beaten; one of sugar, four eggs, one cupful of sweet milk, -one teaspoonful of cloves, one of cinnamon, one of nutmeg, one and a -half teaspoonfuls of soda, one wineglass<span class="pagenum" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</span> of wine, four and a half -teacupfuls of flour; add one cup raisins or currants, if you please, -but roll in flour before putting them to other ingredients; beat all -together thoroughly; bake carefully in a well-heated oven. This is -excellent to our taste, far better than the richer kind, and more -easily digested.</p> - -<p><b>Whortleberry Cake.</b>—Prepare the batter just like Sally Lunn, -then stir in one coffee-cup of whortleberries rolled in flour the -last thing before putting into the oven. If the berries are not well -floured, they will sink to the bottom of the cake and be worthless. -Stir them in gently and quickly. Bake half an hour. Very good for -breakfast or tea.</p> - -<p><b>Olic Cake.</b>—Three pounds of flour, five eggs, three quarters of -a pound of butter, one and a half pints of milk, one pound of sugar, -and one penny’s worth of bakers’ yeast; beat and knead well and put -to rise; knead over every time it rises,—say three times a day for -three days,—using as little flour as possible at each kneading. After -the first rising, keep it in the cellar or a cool place. When ready -for use, break off small bits, flatten with the hand, and lay a bit of -citron on them; then roll into a ball and fry in boiling lard, like -doughnuts. Roll in sugar after they are fried. This is a Dutch receipt, -and, if properly made, very fine. We have never <i>fried</i> these -cakes, but often make a large bowlful in cold weather, and keep it on -the ice a fortnight at a time, using as we want it, kneading it every -day an hour before tea, and using it for biscuits instead of cake. Let -it stand a short time to rise, then bake. <i>They are very light and -tender.</i></p> - -<p><b>Nice little Cakes.</b>—Whites of six eggs left from Spanish cream, -three and a half cups of flour, two cups sugar, one small cup butter, -one cup milk, one teaspoonful soda, and two of cream of tartar. Flavor -to taste.</p> - -<p><b>Queen Charlotte’s Cake.</b>—One pound of flour, one of sugar, one -of raisins (Sultana or <i>stoneless</i> raisins are the best), one -half-pound butter, four eggs, one gill brandy, one gill wine, one gill -cream, half a nutmeg, half-teaspoonful each cloves and cinnamon. Bake -in one loaf.</p> - -<p><b>Lemon Cake.</b>—Two cups of flour, two of sugar, six eggs, six -table-spoonfuls of butter, four of milk, two teaspoonfuls of cream -of tartar sifted with the flour, and one teaspoonful of soda. Beat -all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</span> well together, and bake in two loaves. For the jelly to use with -it, take three fourths of a pound of sugar, one fourth of a pound of -butter, six eggs, the rind of three lemons grated, and their juice. -Beat the sugar, butter, and eggs thoroughly together, and set in a dish -of hot water until heated, then add the grated lemon and juice; stir -till thick enough and quite smooth, then split the cake and put this -jelly in while warm. It is very delicious.</p> - -<p><b>Molasses Drop Cake.</b>—One cup of molasses, half a cup of butter -or lard, half a cup of water, three cups of flour, two teaspoonfuls of -ginger, one teaspoonful of soda. Beat well together, and drop with a -spoon on a buttered pan or in muffin-rings. Bake quickly.</p> - -<p><b>Chicago Fruit Cake.</b>—One and one fourth pound flour, six eggs, -one pound sugar, half-pint of milk, three fourths pound butter, one -pound raisins, two teaspoonfuls soda, half a gill molasses, three -teaspoonfuls mace, one teaspoonful cloves, one of cinnamon, one of -allspice, one of nutmeg. Beat the yelks and whites of eggs separately, -and beat the cake well before baking.</p> - -<p><b>Cider Cake.</b>—Two pounds of flour, one pound of butter, one and -a quarter-pound of sugar, one pound of raisins (stoned), five eggs, -two teaspoonfuls of soda (only even full), a teaspoonful of cloves, -cinnamon, and half a nutmeg, and one pint of cider. Put in the soda the -last thing.</p> - -<p><b>Snow-flake Cake.</b>—Half a cup of butter, two cups of sugar, four -of flour, one of sweet milk, three eggs well beaten, one table-spoonful -cream of tartar, half a teaspoonful of soda; or, if you use prepared -flour, use no soda or cream of tartar. Bake the cake in shallow -jelly-cake pans; while baking, grate two fresh cocoa-nuts carefully, -and spread over each cake, as it comes from the oven, a thin frosting, -and then sprinkle thickly with the grated nut. Three layers of cake -make one cake. This receipt will make two loaves.</p> - -<p><b>Cocoa-nut Cake.</b>—One coffee-cup butter, two and a half sugar, -four and a half of flour, whites of nine eggs beaten stiff, half a cup -of milk, two cocoa-nuts grated, one small teaspoonful soda, two of -cream of tartar. Save out a saucer of grated cocoa-nut to sprinkle on -the frosting after the cake is baked.</p> - -<p><b>Macaroons.</b>—One pound of sugar, whites of three eggs, one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</span> -quarter-pound blanched and pounded almonds. Sprinkle sugar on paper and -drop in little round cakes.</p> - -<p><b>Delicate Cake.</b>—When making cocoa-nut custard (see Puddings, -etc.), use the whites of the eggs as follows: One cup white sugar, five -table-spoonfuls of butter, whites of six eggs, one teacup of sweet -milk, three cups of “prepared flour,” or to the same quantity of common -flour, add one small teaspoonful of soda, and two of cream of tartar -sifted in the flour. Flavor with orange, lemon, or vanilla.</p> - -<p><b>Sponge Cake</b> (very good).—Three eggs, one cup of sugar, one -of flour, three table-spoonfuls of water, and one teaspoonful of -yeast powder; flavor with lemon and nutmeg.</p> - -<p><b>Pineapple Cake.</b>—Make a cake as for jelly-cake; bake it in -three or four jelly-pans; grate a large ripe pineapple in one bowl -and a cocoa-nut in another. When the cakes are done, spread over one -a layer of pineapple, and over that a layer of cocoa-nut; then place -the second cake over this, and on that put another layer of pineapple -and cocoa-nut, and so on till the last; cover that with the pineapple -and grated cocoa-nut, and then beat the whites of two eggs to a stiff -meringue; lay it over the top, and place the cake in the oven just a -few minutes to stiffen.</p> - -<p><b>Molasses Cup Cake</b> (very good).—One cup each, sugar, molasses, -and milk, three cups flour, half a cup butter, three eggs, one -table-spoonful ginger, one small even teaspoonful of soda, half a -teaspoonful of salt. Pour the milk to the flour, beat butter and sugar -to a cream and add to it the salt and ginger, then the well-beaten -yelks of the eggs; beat the soda into the molasses, and when it foams -pour in with the rest, adding the whites of the eggs, beaten stiff, the -last thing.</p> - -<p><b>Loaf Cake.</b>—One and a half pints of well-raised sponge, two -and a half cups sugar, two thirds cup of butter, three eggs, yelks -and whites beaten separately, half a pound stoned raisins well rolled -in flour to prevent their sinking to the bottom, half-teaspoonful -each cinnamon and cloves, one nutmeg. Beat into the sponge a -half-teaspoonful soda before adding these ingredients, then stir all -together thoroughly; let it stand till quite light, then stir up from -the bottom with a wooden spoon to prevent raisins from settling, and -bake slowly. If the sponge is very thin, add a little more flour.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</span></p> - -<p><b>Walnut Cake.</b>—One pound of flour, one of sugar, three quarters -of a pound of butter, one and a half pounds raisins stoned, the meats -from two quarts of walnuts, one nutmeg, half a teaspoonful of cinnamon, -half a cup of milk, one wineglassful of cider or wine, six eggs, whites -and yelks beaten separately, half a teaspoonful of soda. Pick over the -walnut-meats to see that no bits of shells remain; pour boiling water -over to take off the skin, drain and rub dry, then mix with raisins, -flour well, and stir into the batter. Bake in a quick oven, but not -scorching hot.</p> - -<p><b>Loaf Cake.</b>—Two cups of sugar, two of milk, two of flour, one of -yeast. Make into sponge overnight. In the morning rub together two cups -of sugar, one of butter, and four eggs. Flour to make quite stiff; one -nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves; if wished, one pound of fruit. Raise till -light, and bake in an even oven.</p> - -<p><b>Western Cake.</b>—Four cups of flour, two and a half of sugar, one -of butter, one of new milk, and five eggs, one teaspoonful of soda. -Spice to taste.</p> - -<p><b>Snowball Cake.</b>—One cup of sugar, half a cup of butter, half a -cup of sweet milk, two cups of flour, the whites of three eggs, half a -teaspoonful of soda, one spoonful of cream of tartar sifted with the -flour; beat butter and sugar thoroughly together; add the whites of -eggs beaten to a stiff foam; then the flour, and milk and soda the last.</p> - -<p><b>Molasses Cake.</b>—Half a cup of molasses, half cup sugar, half cup -sour milk, piece of butter size of an egg, one egg, two cups flour, -spices, and a few chopped raisins. Spice with a little ginger, cloves, -and cinnamon.</p> - -<p><b>Corn-Starch Cake.</b>—One cupful of butter, two of sugar; beat -to a white foam; add four eggs beaten quite stiff, one cupful of -corn-starch, one cupful of milk, two cupfuls of prepared flour, and -flavor with one teaspoonful of bitter almonds. If you have no prepared -flour, sift one teaspoonful of cream of tartar with the flour, and add -half a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a teaspoonful of milk, the last -thing; beat thoroughly after the soda is added, and bake immediately.</p> - -<p><b>Moss Cake.</b>—Two cupfuls of sugar, half a cupful of butter, three -eggs, one cupful of milk, three cupfuls of flour, two teaspoonfuls of -cream of tartar sifted with the flour, and one teaspoonful of soda.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</span></p> - -<p><b>Jenny Lind Cake.</b>—Half cup butter, one teacup of milk, two -table-spoonfuls cream, two cups sugar, three eggs, one teaspoonful -cream tartar, half-teaspoonful soda, and four cups flour. Any spice -that is palatable.</p> - -<p><b>Sugar Cookies.</b>—One cup butter, two cups sugar, three eggs, five -cups flour, two table-spoonfuls sour milk (or sweet milk, with two -teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar added), one small teaspoonful of soda; -spice to suit your taste. Bake quickly.</p> - -<p><b>Cookies.</b>—Two cups of sugar, one of butter, one of sweet milk, -one teaspoonful soda, two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar, just flour -enough to roll; rub butter and sugar into the dry flour, as if for -pastry, and then wet up, using no eggs; spice to suit the taste; cream -of tartar to be sifted in with the flour, soda added the last. Be -careful not to use too much flour, more can easily be added if not -stiff enough.</p> - -<p><b>Another Way.</b>—Three cups of flour, one cup of sugar a trifle -heaped, half cup of butter, one third cup half cream and half sweet -milk, two eggs, half-teaspoonful soda,—if you don’t use prepared -flour; spice with cinnamon. Work butter and sugar to a smooth white -cream, then add yelks of eggs, beat well, and then add milk and soda; -whites beaten stiff, added the last thing before the flour; make as -thin as they can be rolled, putting the hands to the dough as little as -possible. Much handling makes them hard and tough.</p> - -<p><b>Molasses Gingerbread.</b>—Half a cupful of sugar, half a cupful -molasses, half a cupful of milk, half a cupful of butter, three cupfuls -of flour, two teaspoonfuls of ginger, and half a teaspoonful of soda. -Beat the sugar, butter, and ginger together; then add the milk, then -the flour; beat the soda into the molasses, and as soon as it foams, -beat it in with the other ingredients. Better beat all together with -the hand. Bake it either in a shallow pan or in little cups. This is -very nice, if a teaspoonful of cinnamon, half a teaspoonful of cloves, -and a teacupful of stoned raisins are added, and the whole baked in a -loaf.</p> - -<p><b>Plain Gingerbread.</b>—One cupful of sugar, one of molasses, half -a cupful of butter, half a cupful of milk, one cupful of raisins or -currants, two teaspoonfuls of ginger, and one of yeast powder, with -flour enough to make it as stiff as cup cake.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</span></p> - -<p><b>Excellent Ginger-Snaps.</b>—Boil together one pint molasses, one -cup butter, one table-spoonful of ginger. Let them only boil up once, -then set aside to cool. When cold, roll two small teaspoonfuls of soda -perfectly smooth, and beat into the molasses; while foaming pour it -upon just as little flour as will make it possible to roll out very -thin. Bake quick.</p> - -<p>In measuring by spoonfuls, be careful that the spoon is <i>even</i> -full, not <i>heaped</i>. Careless measurement spoils many good dishes.</p> - - -<h3>PIES, PUDDINGS, AND DESSERTS.</h3> - -<p><b>Pastry.</b>—One quart flour, half-pound butter; mix half the flour -with ice-cold water, stiff enough to roll; put it on a well-floured -paste-board, sprinkle flour over and roll half an inch thick. Divide the -butter into three parts; shave one of the three portions quite thin -and put it lightly over the paste, shake one third of the dry flour -over it, fold the four ends inward, then double the sheet together and -beat it with the rolling-pin till it is about half an inch thick; shave -a second portion of the butter and put on the paste, flour, fold up -and beat out as at first. Repeat this process for the third and last -time, using up all the butter and flour, and put the paste on the ice -for a half-hour. Then cut off a piece large enough to cover a plate, -roll out,—always rolling from you,—and handle as little as possible; -cover the plate, trim it by passing the knife round the plate, cutting -<i>upwards</i>. (This should be borne in mind with all pastry. If -cut round the edge of the plate <i>upwards</i>, it will be light; if -<i>downwards</i>, it will cling to the plate and be heavy.) Cut a strip -an inch wide and lay round the edge, fill in the fruit or whatever the -contents are to be, and if it is to have an upper crust roll out, put -it on and trim as above directed. Prick the top to let out steam and -prevent the waste of the juice.</p> - -<p><b>Puff Paste.</b>—Half a pound of butter, half a pound of lard, one -and a quarter pounds of flour; wet half the flour to a paste; mix the -other half with the shortening, chopping it fine, but do not use your -hand; stir together with a silver or wooden spoon. Roll the paste out -on the board about a quarter of an inch thick, and add one third of the -mixed flour and shortening; fold the four ends over it, and beat out -with the rolling-pin till again a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</span> quarter of an inch thick; spread -over it one third more of the shortening; fold over the ends; beat out -thin again; add the remainder of the shortening; beat, roll out, and -use.</p> - -<p><b>Potato Pastry for Meat Pies.</b>—Six good-sized potatoes, boiled -and mashed mealy and white, one teacup of sweet cream, a teaspoonful of -salt, and flour enough to make it stay together and roll out. Work and -handle as little as possible, and roll thicker than common pastry.</p> - -<p><b>Pumpkin Pies.</b>—Cut the pumpkin into small pieces; take out -the seeds and inside, but do not pare it. It must be a well-grown -and thoroughly ripened pumpkin, and not watery. Put the pieces in a -saucepan, with only a few spoonfuls of water, not more than four; cover -close and let it cook gently, so as not to scorch, until the water has -all evaporated, and the pumpkin has cooked quite dry and of a rich, -dark orange color. While hot sift it through a coarse sieve. Season -only as much as you are needing for the day. For one large pie, one -egg, one table-spoonful of molasses, four table-spoonfuls of condensed -milk, and enough of new milk to make it as thin as you wish, or if you -have it, half milk and half cream, instead of condensed milk; sugar and -spice to suit the taste. Ginger and cinnamon are very nice. Bake to a -clear, rich brown, but do not blister or scorch.</p> - -<p><b>Dried-Apple Pies.</b>—Wash the apples in several waters, then put -them into an earthen dish or stone pot, and pour on rather more water -than will cover them; for if the apples are good, they will absorb a -good deal of water and become twice as large by soaking. Never soak -or cook fruit in tin or iron. A few hours should soak the apples -sufficiently for cooking. If soaked overnight they become insipid. Put -them into an earthen pipkin or porcelain kettle and cook in the water -they are soaked in. If you like it, cut up a little dried orange or -lemon peel and stew with the apples. Some use dried plums with apples, -but they make it too sharp for our taste. Let them cook slowly, till -very tender. When they rise up in the kettle, <i>press</i> them down -gently, but never <i>stir</i> them. When perfectly tender, before -taking from the fire, stir in a little butter—about one table-spoonful -to a quart of cooked apples—and sugar to suit your taste. Season with -very little nutmeg and cinnamon, if you do not use the orange<span class="pagenum" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</span> or lemon -peel,—nothing else is needed if you do. Bake with an upper and under -crust, but do not make the pie very thick with apples. Half an inch -deep is sufficient.</p> - -<p>Dried plums and peaches may be prepared in the same way, but require no -spice.</p> - -<p><b>Pies of Canned Fruit.</b>—Canned pears, peaches, and quinces -usually will bear scalding in their own liquor before putting them -in the pie-plate. When tender, skim out and lay on a dish to cool. -Then add to the liquor enough sugar to make a syrup, more or less -rich, according to the taste of those who are to eat them. When both -fruit and liquor are cold, if the pears, peaches, or quinces are in -halves, cut them in slices a quarter of an inch thick, and lay into -the pie-plate; pour over as much of the syrup as it will hold, having -first put on the under crust and laid an edge of crust around it. Fill -the plate not quite an inch thick. This is more economical, and, to -our taste, much nicer than to use the fruit in large pieces. Cut a few -small bits of butter (half a table-spoonful in all) and lay the spice -over; put on the upper crust and bake a rich brown, but be careful not -to scorch the crust, as a little scorch spoils the best of pastry.</p> - -<p>Plums must not be scalded before baking, as they come to pieces very -easily, but prepare the liquor in which they are canned the same as for -pears, peaches, and quinces.</p> - -<p><b>Mince Pie.</b>—Put a large-sized tongue into boiling water, with a -little salt and pepper. A fresh tongue is better than one smoked and -dried. Boil slowly till tender, then take out and dip for a minute in -cold water; then peel it, beginning at the tip, as it peels easier. -Cut off all the gristly parts and chop fine. Pare and chop enough of -the best flavored sour apples to fill a three-pint bowl when chopped. -The finer the meat and apples are chopped the better the pies will be. -Pick over and rub clean one pound Sultana, or stoneless raisins, one -pound Malaga, or bloom raisins, stoned and chopped, and one pound whole -raisins. Slice thin half a pound citron and half a pound candied orange -peel; chop and pick clean from skinny pieces three quarters of a pound -of suet; add a table-spoonful salt, five grated nutmegs, one and a half -table-spoonfuls ground cloves, the same of cinnamon, a pound of sugar, -half a pint maple syrup, one pint cider, one of Madeira<span class="pagenum" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</span> wine, one of -brandy. Syrups from preserves, or small portions of jelly of any kind -left over, and not sufficient to be put on the table again, are a great -improvement to mince-meat for pies, beside finding an economical way of -use. Put all these ingredients into a porcelain kettle, and set over -the range to scald, not boil, one hour, stirring all the time; then -pack in a stone jar and cover closely, ready for use.</p> - -<p><b>Rice Pie.</b>—Take cold rice, cooked with milk, add sufficient -cream to make quite thin, mash it with a wooden or silver spoon till -free from lumps. Beat up four eggs very light,—yelks and whites -separately,—sweeten the rice to suit your taste, and pour in the -egg,—the whites last; stir well, grate a little nutmeg over all; cover -a deep custard or pumpkin pie-plate with pastry, pour in the rice, and -bake, but not long enough to make the custard watery.</p> - -<p><b>Apple Puffs.</b>—Peel and core as many sour apples as will be -needed, simmer with a little water till tender, then add a half-pound -of sugar to a pound of apples, let it simmer till the apples become a -kind of marmalade; take it up, and when cold put it into puff paste and -bake quickly; when done ice it, return to the oven just long enough to -turn the icing golden.</p> - -<p><b>Marlborough Pie.</b>—One cup stewed apples, sifted; one cup sugar, -one cup cream or milk; one fourth cup butter if cream is used, if -milk, one third; half a gill wine, three well-beaten eggs, whites -whisked separately, and a little nutmeg; beat sugar, butter, and apple -together, then add the wine, then milk or cream, nutmeg and yelks, -adding the whites the last thing. No upper crust.</p> - -<p><b>Chess Pie.</b>—Four eggs, two cups sugar, one of cream, two thirds -of a cup butter, one table-spoonful flour; flavor with nutmeg. When a -delicate brown, try with a spoon as for a custard.</p> - -<p><b>English Christmas Plum Pudding.</b>—One pound of clean, dry -currants, half a pound of the best raisins, stoned; mix these with -one pound of bread crumbs, half a pound of fine flour, and one pound -and a half of finely shred suet; add a quarter of a pound of sifted -sugar, one grated nutmeg, a drachm of cinnamon, two drachms of cloves, -half a dozen almonds, pounded, and an ounce each of candied orange and -lemon, sliced thin; mix all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</span> these materials thoroughly together in -a bowl, with a glass of brandy and one of sherry, then beat six eggs -very light, and slowly stir them in till all is well blended; cover the -bowl, and let this mixture stand for twelve hours; then pour it into a -pudding-bag, and tie it not very tight, leaving room for it to swell; -or fill a pudding-mold not quite two thirds full, lay a clean cloth -over the top, and shut the cover over tightly to exclude all water; -put the bag or mold into boiling water; keep it covered, and keep it -boiling all the time, for six hours. Serve with sugar sifted over, and -wine sauce. Brandy is usually sent in with a Christmas pudding, to be -poured over the whole pudding, or over each slice, then lighted, and -served while burning.</p> - -<p><b>A Family Christmas Pudding.</b>—Beat up four eggs very light (which -always means yelks and whites beaten separately); add to the yelks, -after beating, a quarter of a teaspoonful each of ginger, nutmeg, -grated lemon peel, and salt; four ounces of sugar, half a pound of -well-cleaned and dried currants, one pound of flour, half a pound of -well-shred and chopped suet; beat this all up thoroughly, adding the -whites of the eggs last. Wine or brandy, or both, may be added, if one -has no scruples about using them in cooking; but the pudding will be -good without this addition. Tie it in a cloth or pudding-bag, or put it -into a mold, and boil six hours. Serve with any good sauce.</p> - -<p>In boiling puddings of all kinds, the cloth should be dipped in hot -water before the batter is put in, or the mold be well buttered. Any -of these Christmas puddings may be kept for a month after boiling, -if the cloth in which they are boiled be replaced by a clean one, -and the pudding be hung up to the ceiling of a kitchen, or in a warm -store-room. When wanted, they will require one hour’s boiling to heat -them through, as all such puddings should be sent to the table hot.</p> - -<p><b>A Simple Christmas Pudding.</b>—Six ounces of finely chopped suet, -six ounces of Malaga raisins, stoned and chopped; eight ounces of -well-cleaned and dried currants, three ounces of fine bread crumbs, -three ounces of flour, three well-beaten eggs, the sixth part of a -nutmeg, grated; half a teaspoonful each of cinnamon, cloves, and mace; -four ounces of sugar, half a teaspoonful of salt, half a pint of milk; -one ounce of candied orange or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</span> lemon peel, and the same of citron, all -sliced thin. Beat all together thoroughly; pour into a pudding-bag or -mold; put into boiling water, and keep it boiling six hours. Serve with -sauce to suit your taste.</p> - -<p><b>Bread Pudding.</b>—One quart fine bread crumbs, one cup of sugar, -two table-spoonfuls of molasses, half-pound suet chopped fine, one -coffee-cup raisins, half a rind of preserved orange peel or citron cut -thin and fine, a very little nutmeg and cinnamon, two teaspoonfuls -cream of tartar, one small teaspoonful soda, one teaspoonful of salt. -Stir in milk enough to make it thick as pound-cake, beating all -thoroughly together; put it into a buttered pudding-mold, and boil -three hours. Be careful to keep the water boiling all the time.</p> - -<p><b>Boiled Indian Pudding.</b>—Two cupfuls of sour milk, two spoonfuls -of molasses, one teaspoonful of soda, one of salt, half a cupful of -sifted flour, mixed with enough corn meal to make a batter not very -stiff; half a cupful of chopped suet, from which all the stringy -substance has been removed; a cup and a half of chopped sweet apples, -or huckleberries, dried or fresh, as you have on hand. Boil from two -and a half to three hours.</p> - -<p><b>Baked Indian Pudding.</b>—Boil one quart of milk, and pour over a -pint of sifted Indian meal; stir it well till the meal is thoroughly -wet and scalded. Mix three table-spoonfuls of wheat flour with one pint -of milk, and beat to a smooth batter, entirely free from lumps; then -pour it in with the Indian batter, and beat well together. When the -whole is lukewarm, beat three eggs and three table-spoonfuls of sugar, -and mix with the batter, together with two table-spoonfuls of molasses; -add two teaspoonfuls of salt, two of nutmeg, cinnamon, or ginger, as -you prefer; two great spoonfuls of suet chopped fine, or the same of -melted butter; let it bake a few minutes, and then add half a pound of -raisins and half a pint of milk, which the raisins will soak up. Bake -till the pudding is of a rich color, but do not let it whey.</p> - -<p><b>Palmyra, or Date Pudding.</b>—One pound of fresh dates, chopped -fine and free from stones; one pound of suet, chopped fine; a quarter -of a pound of moist sugar, and a pound of flour. Mix all well together; -add a little salt and nutmeg, and make into a soft dough with milk. -Beat three eggs very stiff, yelks and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</span> whites separately, and add the -last thing. Boil in a pudding-dish three hours, or bake slowly two -hours. Eat with liquid sauce.</p> - -<p><b>Sponge-Cake Pudding.</b>—Make a batter as for good sponge-cake. -Bake on a flat, square pan, so as to be an inch thick, when done. When -cold, cut it into pieces about three inches square; slice and butter -them, and lay each slice together as it was before you split it. Make a -custard with four eggs and a quart of new milk, flavor and sweeten as -you like it. Almond in the cake, and lemon or vanilla in the custard, -are very good. Put the buttered slices of cake in a baking-dish, so -that when the custard is poured over them, the dish will be full. Bake -half an hour; eat with or without sauce as you prefer.</p> - -<p><b>Steamed Pudding.</b>—Two eggs, two teacupfuls of sour milk, -one teaspoonful of soda, a little salt, flour enough to make it -quite thick, or it will be heavy. Beat this smooth. Add cherries, -raspberries, currants, or any <i>dried</i> fruit you may have. Steam -two hours, taking care that the water is kept over the pudding or bag -all the time, and that it does not stop boiling. Eat with cream and -sugar, hard sauce, or any liquid sauce you may prefer.</p> - -<p><b>An Excellent Pudding.</b>—One cup of sugar, one cup of milk, three -eggs, beaten stiff; one table-spoonful of butter, a little clove and -cinnamon, about half a teaspoonful of each; one cup of raisins, stoned; -half a teaspoonful of salt, and three cups of prepared flour. Bake -quick. Eat with liquid or hard sauce, according to taste. We think this -would also be excellent steamed or boiled.</p> - -<p><b>Apple and Tapioca Pudding.</b>—Put a teacup of tapioca into a pint -and a half of cold water overnight. Before breakfast the next morning -set it where it will become quite warm, but not hot enough to cook. -After breakfast pare six good-sized sour apples, or eight if not very -large; quarter them and <i>steam</i> them in a dish till tender. Lay -them into the pudding-dish, stir a cup and a half of sugar into the -soaked tapioca, add a teacup of water and an even teaspoonful of salt, -stir together and pour over the apple, slice a lemon very thin and -lay over the top, bake slowly three hours; eat with butter, with wine -sauce, or hard sauce, as you prefer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</span></p> - -<p><b>Sweet-Apple Pudding.</b>—One pint of scalded milk, half a pint -of Indian meal, one teaspoonful of salt, six sweet apples cut in -small pieces, one small teacupful of finely chopped suet, two great -spoonfuls of molasses, half a teaspoonful of ginger, nutmeg, or -cinnamon,—whichever is most desirable,—two eggs well beaten, and half -a teaspoonful soda. Beat all well together, put into a pudding-mold, -and boil two hours.</p> - -<p><b>Fig Pudding.</b>—Half a pound of the best figs, washed and chopped -fine, two teacupfuls of grated bread, half a cupful of sweet cream, -half a cupful of sugar, and one cupful of milk. Mix the bread and -cream, add the figs, then the sugar, and lastly the milk. Pour the -mixture into a mold, and boil three hours. Eat with wine or hard sauce.</p> - -<p><b>Barley Cream for Invalids.</b>—Boil two pounds of lean veal in one -quart of water, add to it a quarter of a pound of pearl barley, and -boil till it can be rubbed through a sieve. It should be about as thick -as cream. Add a little salt.</p> - -<p><b>Apple Float.</b>—One pint stewed and well-mashed apples; whites of -three eggs, and four large spoonfuls of sugar, beaten until stiff; then -add the apples, and beat all together till stiff enough to stand alone. -Fill a deep dish with rich cream, or boiled soft custard, and pile -the float on top. This is excellent with other fruits in place of the -apples.</p> - -<p><b>Sago Pudding.</b>—One dozen tart apples, one and a half cup of -sago,—soak the sago in water till soft; peel and core the apples and -place in a dish, fill the apples with sugar, a very little cinnamon and -nutmeg, pour the sago over and bake until the apples are cooked. Eat -with wine sauce or hard sauce.</p> - -<p><b>Cocoa-nut Custard.</b>—One pound grated cocoa-nut, one pint of rich -milk, and six ounces of sugar. Beat the yelks of six eggs, and stir -them into the milk with the nut and sugar. Put into a farina-kettle, -or into a small pail which you can set into a kettle of boiling water; -stir all the time till very smooth and thick; as soon as it comes to a -hard boil, take off and pour into cups.</p> - -<p><b>Apple Pudding.</b>—One pint of stewed and sifted apples, three eggs -well beaten, whites and yelks separate, sugar enough to make the apple -quite sweet, one cup of stoned raisins rolled in flour; half-pint each -of milk and cream or condensed milk, and a little salt and nutmeg.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</span></p> - -<p><b>Sauce.</b>—One cup of sugar and half a cup of butter, rubbed to a -cream; the white of one egg well beaten, a little nutmeg or orange, and -when ready to serve, stir in two great spoonfuls of boiling water; if -preferred, add half a gill of wine instead of orange juice.</p> - -<p><b>Nice Cheap Pudding.</b>—One quart of milk, four table-spoonfuls of -flour, four eggs, six table-spoonfuls of sugar, nutmeg. Steam three -fourths of an hour.</p> - -<p><b>Orange Pudding.</b>—Peel five oranges; cut in thin slices; take out -all the seeds. Pour over them a large cupful of white sugar. Bring a -pint of rich milk to a boil in a farina-kettle; wet a table-spoonful -of corn-starch in a little cold milk; beat the yelks of three eggs -and pour them into the boiling milk, stirring all the time. When it -thickens a little, pour over the fruit. Beat the whites to a stiff -foam; add a table-spoonful of white sugar, and pour over the top; set -it in the oven a few minutes to harden, but do not brown it. Eaten hot -or cold for dinner or tea. Substitute berries or peaches for oranges, -if you prefer.</p> - -<p><b>Custard without Eggs.</b>—To one quart of new milk one teaspoonful -of rennet wine, or a small piece of rennet, a little lemon, nutmeg, -or vanilla, or any spice you prefer, and one table-spoonful of sugar -to each quart of milk. If too sweet, the milk will not set firmly or -quickly. Stir all together, and set by the stove or near the fire; -cover closely. It should begin to stiffen in an hour. If it does not, -add more wine, or rennet. When firm, before the whey separates, take -out the piece of rennet if the skin was used, and set on ice till -dinner. To be eaten with sugar and rich cream. Nutmeg is always an -improvement, even if lemon or vanilla is used.</p> - -<p>The wine rennet is nicer than simply the skin, and it is a good idea to -keep a bottle of wine with a piece of rennet in always on hand, as it -is often desirable to have it ready.</p> - -<p><b>A Quick Pudding.</b>—Bring a quart of milk to the boiling point -in a farina-kettle or a pail set into boiling water; add a small -teaspoonful of salt, two table-spoonfuls of rice or wheat flour, wet -smooth with cold milk. Stir this in as soon as the milk boils. Stir it -a few minutes till perfectly smooth, and let it remain in the outside -vessel of boiling water half an hour. Be sure and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</span> keep the water in -receiver or saucepan boiling hard around the inner one all the time. -Eat with butter and sugar, or thick cream and sugar.</p> - -<p>This is very healthful, especially in the summer, and invaluable for -invalids, or children suffering with summer complaint. When used as a -remedy or preventive, it should boil longer, say one hour.</p> - -<p><b>Rice Meringue.</b>—Pick over one teacup of rice, wash clean, and -boil in water until it is soft. When done, drain all the water from it. -Let it get cool and then add one quart of new milk, the well-beaten -yelks of three eggs, three table-spoonfuls of white sugar, and a little -nutmeg; pour into a baking-dish and bake half an hour. Let it get cold; -then beat the whites stiff, add two great spoonfuls of sugar, flavor -with lemon or vanilla, and spread it over the pudding, and slightly -brown it in the oven. Be careful not to let it scorch.</p> - -<p><b>Sago Pudding.</b>—One dozen tart apples, one and a half cups of -sago, soak the sago in water till soft; peel and core the apples and -place in a dish; fill the apples with sugar, a very little cinnamon and -nutmeg, pour the sago over, and bake until the apples are cooked. Eat -with wine or hard sauce.</p> - -<p><b>Lemon or Orange Honeycomb.</b>—Sweeten the juice of two oranges or -lemons. Beat the whites of two eggs into a quart of rich cream, and -whisk it; as the froth rises, skim off and lay on the lemon or orange -juice. Whisk until you have the whole frothed and laid on the juice. It -makes a pretty and agreeable dish. It should be prepared the day before -needed, and set in a cool place.</p> - -<p><b>Apple Snow.</b>—Stew fine flavored, sour apples; sweeten and flavor -to suit your taste; strain, and to one quart of sifted apples allow the -whites of four eggs. Whisk them to a stiff froth; then put the apple -and whites together, and continue to whip until they are so stiff you -can turn the dish upside down without the mass falling off. Eat with -cream or with bread and milk.</p> - -<p><b>Snow Pudding.</b>—Dissolve one box Cox’s gelatine in one pint of -boiling water; add two cups sugar and the juice of one lemon; strain -when nearly cold; beat the whites of three eggs to a stiff froth, add -them to the gelatine; beat all well together<span class="pagenum" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</span> and put into a mold to -shape it and let it get cold. Then take the yelks of three eggs, beat -and add to a pint of rich milk, one teaspoonful corn-starch, flavor -with vanilla, and boil in a farina-kettle. When you wish to serve, -empty the mold of gelatine, etc. into the dish, and pour the custard -over. In boiling the custard, be careful not to cook it too much; stir -all the time, and the moment it begins to set or thicken remove it. If -cooked too long it will whey.</p> - -<p><b>Cocoa-nut Pudding or Pies.</b>—Break the nut, save the milk; take -out the meat and grate it very fine; take equal weight of sugar and -cocoa-nut, and half the quantity of butter; rub the butter and sugar to -a cream; take five eggs, whites and yelks beaten separately very stiff; -one cup of milk and the milk of the cocoa-nut, and a little grated -lemon. Line the dish with a nice paste, put in the pudding, and bake -one hour. Cover the rim with paper to prevent burning. This receipt -will answer equally as well for pies as for pudding. It will make three -pies.</p> - -<p><b>Bohemian Cream.</b>—Four ounces of any fruit you choose, which -has been steamed soft and sweetened. Pass the fruit through a sieve, -and add one and a half ounces of melted or dissolved isinglass to a -half-pint of fruit; mix it well together; then whip a pint of rich -cream, and add the fruit and isinglass gradually to it. Then pour it -all into a mold; set it on ice or in a cool place, and when hardened or -set, dip the mold a moment in warm water, and turn it out on a dish, -ready for the table.</p> - -<p><b>Spanish Cream.</b>—Dissolve three quarters of an ounce Cox’s -gelatine in one half-pint of water; take one pint milk, one pint cream, -the well-beaten yelks of five eggs, five table-spoonfuls of sugar. Sift -all well together. Flavor with vanilla, lemon, or orange, or any flavor -most agreeable. Put into a farina-kettle and boil till it just begins -to turn. If done too much it will be watery, or wheyey, which spoils -it. When thickened like a smooth rich cream, stir in the dissolved -gelatine, pour into molds, and set in the refrigerator or a very cool -place to harden. Beat up the whites of the eggs and pour over the top -of the cream after you have removed it from the mold to the glass dish, -for the table.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</span></p> - -<p><b>Rennet Wine.</b>—Buy a dried rennet in market, or get a fresh one -from the butcher’s and prepare and dry it yourself. When well dried -and cured, cut it in pieces of one or two inches; put it into a large -bottle and fill up with Madeira wine; for a good-sized rennet add from -three pints to two quarts of wine. It will keep for a year or two.</p> - -<p><b>Cold Custard.</b>—Warm one quart of milk as warm as when just -milked; sweeten and flavor to suit your taste; stir into it two -table-spoonfuls of rennet wine, and turn it at once into the dish in -which it is to be sent to table.</p> - -<p><b>Baked Apples.</b>—Core some Baldwin pippins, or any other -fine-flavored tart apple. Sprinkle sugar on the bottom of a deep dish, -and set the apples into the dish with two or three on top. Fill the -holes with sugar; cover the lower apples with water, and bake one hour. -A little cinnamon, nutmeg, or lemon will be an improvement for those -who like fruit seasoned.</p> - -<p><b>Apple Snow.</b>—Stew some fine-flavored sour apples tender, sweeten -to taste; strain them through a fine wire sieve, and break into one -pint of strained apples the white of an egg; whisk the apple and egg -very briskly, till quite stiff, and it will be as white as snow; eaten -with a nice boiled custard, it makes a very desirable dessert.</p> - -<p>Season with a very little nutmeg and cinnamon, add a little butter, and -bake in good pastry, and you will have a very good apple pie.</p> - - -<h3>PRESERVES AND JELLIES.</h3> - -<p><b>To Can Peaches.</b>—We find the following mode of canning peaches -in “Tilton’s Journal of Horticulture,” published in Boston. That -journal is always so reliable, that we have no hesitation in giving -these directions to our readers: “Take large ripe peaches,—not -over-ripe,—halve and pare neatly and lay on a large meat-dish. To a -three-peck basket of fruit allow four pounds of sifted sugar; sprinkle -it over the fruit as you lay it in the dish; when done set it in a -cool place overnight; the next morning fit each piece, one by one, -nicely into the jar, draining them from the juice. When the jars are -all filled put them close together in a kettle of cold water, putting -a double towel or something<span class="pagenum" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</span> of the kind under them, in the bottom of -the kettle, to prevent their cracking, and set over the fire. Let the -water heat gradually till it boils, while you prepare the syrup from -the juice that has been formed from the peaches and sugar overnight, -then fill up the jars with it, being careful to let the bubbles of air -escape; they will be seen rising to the top; if any are in the lower -part of the jar they will rush up on the insertion of a fork. When all -are full begin to seal up, and have a large pan of hot water standing -near to put the jars in as fast as sealed, where they can cool off -gradually.</p> - -<p>“Where one has glass jars or bottles, without tight-fitting covers, -prepare a cement of one pound rosin to two pounds of mutton-suet, -melted together and well mixed; have pieces of strong muslin cut large -enough to tie over the mouths of the jars or bottles; lay the muslin on -a board and with a spoon spread over a thick coating of cement; take up -the muslin quickly, before it has time to cool, and put it on the jar -with the cement side downward, pressing it closely over the sides. If -the muslin is not very thick it is well to spread more cement on top of -the first cover, and lay over that a second piece of muslin, then tie -down with twine and finish with a good coat of cement over all. This is -a good way to use up old jars whose covers have been broken or lost.”</p> - -<p><b>Mixed Marmalade.</b>—Apples or pears mixed with quince make very -pleasant marmalade. They should be pared and cut in small pieces; -just cover them with water, or boil the cores and skins first and use -the liquor to boil the fruit in; stew the fruit till it can be mashed -with a wooden spoon; when well mashed add the sugar, three fourths of -a pound of sugar to a pound of fruit (of course the fruit is weighed -before beginning to cook); let it cook slowly for two or three hours, -the longer it cooks the more solid it will be when cold. Pear, quince, -and apple marmalade are made in the same way. With pears, if very mild, -many add the juice and grated rind of lemons, to suit the taste, to the -sugar.</p> - -<p><b>Jellies.</b>—In making jellies of apricots, quinces, peaches, -apples, or plums, peel, remove the stones or cores, cut in pieces, -cover with water and boil gently till well cooked; then strain the -juice<span class="pagenum" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</span> gently through a jelly-bag, and add a half-pint of sugar to a -pint of juice (for <i>berries</i> a <i>pound</i> of sugar to a pint of -juice); boil till it ropes from the spoon, or from fifteen to twenty -minutes. In making raspberry jelly, use one third currants and two -thirds raspberries.</p> - -<p><b>Peach Jelly.</b>—Cut peaches in half, peel them, and take out the -pits from the stones; make a clear syrup of a pound of white sugar to -half a teacup of water. When made and boiling hot put in the peaches -and part of the pits,—too many pits give a bitter flavor,—boil gently -ten minutes, then put half of the peaches on a platter, and boil the -other half ten minutes longer; mix with the liquor of the peaches the -strained juice of three lemons or oranges, and one ounce of isinglass -or Cox’s gelatine, that has been first dissolved and strained; fill the -molds half full of jelly, let it stand till set, then add the rest of -the peaches, and fill the molds with jelly. One dozen peaches will make -a good-sized moldful. It is a very handsome table ornament, and very -palatable.</p> - -<p><b>Quince Jelly.</b>—Boil the quince peelings, cores, and such of -the fruit as you do not wish to can till soft, in just enough water -to cover; then put into jelly-bags wrung out of hot water; hang the -bags by strings on a stick laid across two chairs or benches, with a -dish underneath, and let it drain without squeezing till the juice is -all run out; then to every pint of juice weigh three quarters of a -pound of sugar, put it into a large platter or a deep dish, and set in -the oven to get hot, <i>but not browned</i>, while the juice in the -preserving-kettle is brought to a boil; when it begins to boil skim -clear, and then pour in the hot sugar, stir all well together, skim -clear, boil fifteen minutes, and dip into hot jelly-glasses.</p> - -<p><b>To Preserve Quinces.</b>—Select the fairest quinces, pare, cut in -half, and remove the core neatly; then weigh, using a quarter of a -pound of sugar to one of fruit; boil the quinces until tender in enough -water to cover them, and when done take carefully up on a platter. To -make your syrup, use half a pint of the water in which the fruit was -boiled to each pound of sugar. When skimmed clear, boil the quinces in -the syrup five minutes; have the cans hot, and fill while the fruit and -syrup are boiling hot; seal each can, or close the covers tightly, as -fast as filled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</span></p> - -<p><b>Candied Orange Peel.</b>—Cut the fruit into quarters lengthwise, -take out the pulp and put the peels in strong salt and water for two -days, then take them out and soak for an hour in cold water, after -which put them into a preserving-kettle with fresh cold water and boil -till the peels are tender, when they should be put on a sieve to drain. -Make a thin syrup of a quart of the water in which they were boiled and -a pound of sugar, and simmer the peels in it for half an hour, when -they will look clear; pour the peels and syrup into a bowl together, to -stand till the next day, when you must make as much syrup as will cover -them, of the proportion of a pound of sugar to a pint of water, boiling -it till it will fall from the spoon in threads; put the peels into this -syrup, boil half an hour, then take them out, drain on a sieve, and as -the candy dries transfer them to a dish to finish in a warm place. When -dry, store them for use. This receipt is useful for any lemon, orange, -or citron peel, and perfectly wholesome.</p> - -<p><b>Apple and Quince Sauce.</b>—Pare, quarter, and core one peck of -sweet apples and half a peck of quinces; then weigh both together; -save all the cores and peels that are free from specks or worms; put -these into a preserving-kettle, just cover with water, and boil twenty -minutes; strain and pour the liquor over the quinces, cover closely, -and let it boil till about half done, then add the apples; stir -occasionally to prevent its burning, being careful to break the pieces -as little as possible. When done so that a straw or knitting-needle -will pass easily, add half a pound of sugar to every pound of fruit, -stir it in gently, cover again closely, and leave it on the back part -of the stove to simmer a short time, say twenty minutes, till the sugar -is thoroughly incorporated with the fruit. Then pack in stone pots and -cover closely. It is a very excellent substitute for apple-butter, and -to most tastes more palatable.</p> - -<p><b>Apple Sauce.</b>—Take sweet cider, as soon as it comes from the -cider-press, before it has passed through any change. Boil it down -nearly half; then pare and quarter as many of the best sour apples as -you wish to “do up”; cover them with the cider when boiling hot, and -cook till well done; but not so as to lose their shape. Most of the -cider will be absorbed by the apples. What<span class="pagenum" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</span> remains can be bottled for -future use. When done, put into jars, and cover or cement.</p> - -<p>Or, if only needed for daily sauce, let the apples boil longer, -stirring often, until it becomes like marmalade.</p> - -<p>This makes not only a most delicious sauce, but is very healthful, -as all the nourishment of the apples from which the cider is made is -retained, and the stimulating or alcoholic properties are dispelled by -boiling before fermentation takes place, and we lose the sharp, biting -taste of the old <i>apple-butter</i> made from boiled cider.</p> - -<p><b>Baked Pears.</b>—Take ripe pears, juicy and of a good flavor,—not -ripe enough to be very soft. Wipe them clean, put them into a stone -jar, stems upward; when the bottom of the jar is covered, sprinkle over -sugar (the nature of the pear must determine the quantity of sugar -needed; some are so sweet that they require but little). Set in another -layer of pears; add more sugar, and so on till the jar is full. Put -in a pint and a half of water for every gallon that the jar contains; -cover the top of the jar with a paste of simple flour and water, and -bake in a slow oven two hours.</p> - - -<h3>CHEESE.</h3> - -<p><i>Stilton Cheese</i> is one of the richest kinds. The cream of one -day’s milk is added to the warm new milk of the next. In England they -are made in a deep hoop or vat containing from eight to ten pounds, -and are not considered of proper age for the table till two years old. -Little blue spots through the cheese, not at all like those on common -moldy cheese, is the test of ripeness. We have seen them made in a -two-quart hoop. They require very careful handling, and are very fine -(we think more agreeable) at a year old than when left to the age that -epicures love best in cheese.</p> - -<p>The <i>Cottenham Cheese</i> is a variety of cream cheese manufactured -in Cottenham, near Cambridgeshire, that is considered superior to the -Stilton, as the herbage upon which the cows feed gives the milk a -peculiar fragrance.</p> - -<p>The <i>Parmesan</i> is made in several parts of Lombardy. It is quite -celebrated. Many suppose it is made from goat’s milk, but it is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</span> simply -from cow’s milk skimmed. The meadows of the Po are noted for extremely -rich herbage, and the peculiarities of the Parmesan cheese are owing -in part to this, together with the mode of manufacturing it. Half the -milk to be used is allowed to stand sixteen hours, the other half but -six. It is then heated and coagulated in a boiler, and broken up fine, -without removing, by sticks with cross-wires; then scalded once more -till the curd has separated from the whey and become quite firm. It is -then taken out, drained, salted, and pressed. The best Parmesan cheese -is kept four years before cutting.</p> - -<p>The <i>Cheddar</i> is similar to the Parmesan; but very little of the -best quality is now made, and that which is generally imported for it -is inferior.</p> - -<p>The <i>Dunlop</i> is one of the best Scottish cheeses, made only of -new milk, but there is nothing peculiar in the mode of making it.</p> - -<p>A peculiar kind of cheese in Lincolnshire is known in London as <i>New -Cheese</i>. It is made wholly from cream, or sometimes morning’s milk, -warm from the cow, is used, and the cream of the day before added to -it. It is made quite thin, pressed gently two or three times, then left -to <i>cure</i> for a few days, when it is ready to be sent to market -for immediate use. It is greatly esteemed for eating with radish and -salad. This cheese is easily made in any family when sufficient cream -can be spared. Stir in a table-spoonful of rennet to a quart of warm -cream; when the curd is “set,” spread a cloth over a sieve and lay the -curd into it to stand for twenty-four hours, when it may be put into a -small hoop, a wet cloth and a board laid on top, to press and drain it -a little, and in a few hours it will be ready for use.</p> - -<p>The <i>Swiss Cheese</i> has a peculiar flavor and richness, which can -be gained only from the mountain pastures. Some varieties are mottled -and highly flavored by the bruised leaves of the melilot.</p> - -<p>In <i>Sage</i> or <i>Green Cheese</i>, the curd is colored and -flavored by bruising the fresh green leaves of sage, marigold, parsley, -or corn leaves, and mixing with the curd. Among the Romans it was -customary to flavor with thyme and other sweet herbs.</p> - -<p><i>Cream Cheese</i> is simply cream dried sufficiently to be cut -with a knife. Green rushes are plated or sewed together and laid on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</span> -the bottom of the hoop, which must have holes all through it for the -whey to run off freely. On these rushes a quantity of good thick cream -is laid; another plait of rushes or Indian-corn leaves is put on top -of the cheese, so that it may be turned without handling. The cheese -should not be more than an inch to an inch and a half thick. The -thinner it is made the sooner it ripens. It is now kept in a warm place -for a few days to sweat or ripen, but it requires much care and good -judgment, as too great heat or cold is injurious.</p> - -<p>In Thuringia and Saxony a cheese is made of five pounds of the best -<i>potatoes</i>, half steamed, pulverized and reduced to a pulp, and -well beaten and mixed into ten pounds of sweet curd; a little salt -is added, then it stands three or four days, and is again thoroughly -broken up and kneaded, and then pressed into little baskets for the -whey to drain off, then made into balls and dried in the shade. They -keep well, and improve with age, and are said to excel in flavor the -best cheeses made in Holland.</p> - -<p>We are indebted for much information respecting foreign cheese to -Webster’s “Encyclopedia of Domestic Economy,” a very useful and -valuable work for all housekeepers.</p> - -<p><b>Cheese Straus.</b>—Quarter of a pound of puff paste, and a quarter -of an ounce of good cheese, grated very fine, a little salt and cayenne -pepper mixed with it. Sprinkle the cheese, salt, and pepper over the -paste, and roll it out two or three times. Cut the paste into narrow -strips about five inches long; bake in a slow oven, and serve very hot.</p> - - -<h3>PICKLES.</h3> - -<p><b>Peach Pickles.</b>—Select the finest and fairest fruit (we prefer -Rareripes or Honest Johns to Morris Whites or Malacatoons, but that is -a matter of taste), weigh the peaches, and for every pound of fruit -take a full pound or slightly heaped quart of granulated sugar; put -one gill of good cider vinegar and half a gill of water to every six -pounds of sugar; put the vinegar and water into the preserving-kettle -first, then add the sugar, set the kettle on the back part of the -range or stove where it will dissolve gradually. While the sugar is -melting prepare the peaches; pour boiling water over a few at a time, -and then rub<span class="pagenum" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</span> each one carefully with a soft towel to take off a thin -skin without disfiguring the peach; as you peel throw them into cold -water to prevent their turning black. When all are peeled, or if two -are working at them, as one peels let the other stick a clove and two -small pieces of cinnamon, or two or three cassia-buds into each peach, -and occasionally put in two cloves, but not often, as too many cloves -make them bitter. While preparing the sugar over the fire, and after -waiting a suitable time, if you find it will not dissolve without more -water, add some, but only a little at a time, say half a cupful. It is -difficult to tell <i>just</i> how much water is needed, as some sugar -melts more readily and with less water than others; for this reason it -is wise to add the water by degrees, as for sweet peach pickles it is -desirable to use just as little water as possible. Bring the syrup to -a boil just as soon as possible after you have all the fruit prepared; -skim as fast as the scum rises, and when clear put in as many peaches -as will cover the surface of the syrup without crowding and bruising; -let them boil up for three or four minutes, turn over carefully in -syrup that both sides may be cooked evenly, and then remove into -two-quart stone jars, with nicely fitting covers, taking care not to -break the fruit; dip out a cup or two of syrup to each jar, cover -over and set on the side of the range to keep hot for a little while, -till you have others filled to take their place. Fill each jar full -of fruit. When all the peaches have been thus cooked and removed to -jars, pour in as much syrup as they will hold and allow the cover to -fit closely. Put them aside for three or four days, then drain off all -the syrup and heat it again; when <i>boiling hot</i> fill up the jars -again, and cover up. Repeat the scalding again in a week’s time, unless -you find the peaches were so ripe as to have cooked enough to endanger -their falling to pieces. In that case another scalding would injure -them. To seal up jars, cut a piece of old cotton or linen, large enough -to cover over the top and come half an inch over the side, leaving it -loose so the cover will fit in, dip the cloth in the white of egg to -seal it down over the edge, place on the cover, then wet plaster of -Paris quite soft and spread over the top and so far over the sides as -to cover the cloth. The plaster hardens immediately, and you have a -solid cover at once, and air-tight; wet only as much at a time as will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</span> -be needed for one jar, as it stiffens so soon. Put on sufficient to -entirely bury the stone cover.</p> - -<p><b>Pickled Plums.</b>—Prick the plums with a sharp needle, else they -will fall to pieces badly when you put in hot syrup; tie the cloves -and cassia-buds in a cloth, or throw loose into the syrup, instead -of sticking them into the plums. Of course they are not thrown into -boiling water like peaches, as it is desirable to preserve them as -whole and perfect as possible. Except in these two particulars, proceed -as with the peaches.</p> - -<p>For extra rich pickles, when boiling the syrup the second time, add -one third more sugar than was used to make the first syrup. This gives -a very rich fine flavor; the small amount of vinegar used at first -prevents its being too sweet.</p> - -<p>Some prefer peaches, when pickled, quite sour. In that case a pint of -vinegar and three pounds of sugar to every seven pounds of peaches is -the common proportion, with cloves and cassia-buds or cinnamon, as in -the first receipt; cassia-buds are milder and less <i>woody</i> in -taste than cinnamon.</p> - -<p>Pears and crab-apples, prepared like peaches, make a fine pickle.</p> - -<p><b>Green Tomato Pickles.</b>—Slice half a peck of full-grown tomatoes -just ready to turn red. They are more crisp if you can secure them -after there has been almost a frost, not enough to turn the vines -black. Slice very thin, cut off the blossom and stem ends and throw -away. For every gallon of sliced tomatoes take twelve large green -peppers,—the bell pepper is the best. Put a layer of sliced tomatoes -into an earthen or wooden dish, then a layer of peppers, sprinkle over -a handful of salt, then more tomatoes and peppers, adding salt to each -layer till all are put in. A pint of salt is sufficient for a gallon. -Press this down and place a weight on the plate or wooden cover. A -metal cover will not answer. Let it stand till morning, when it should -be put in a sieve or hung up in a strainer to drain. Put three quarts -of best cider vinegar over the fire to scald. Tie up in a cloth two -cups of white mustard-seed, half a cup of sliced horse-radish, half -an ounce of whole cloves, and the same of cinnamon and allspice, -and throw into the vinegar. When the brine has all drained from the -tomatoes, pack them closely in a stone pot and pour the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</span> boiling spice -and vinegar over it. Lay over them a plate small enough to fit inside -the pot, and put a smooth clean stone on the plate to keep the pickle -under the vinegar. Let it stand a few days, and then scald again. Some -like part of the spices sprinkled through the tomatoes rather than have -all tied in a bag. Some prefer the spices ground, and many prefer the -tomatoes and peppers chopped, not very fine, rather than sliced. Either -way they make a fine pickle.</p> - -<p><b>To Pickle Green Tomatoes.</b>—Slice thin in separate plates green -tomatoes and onions; allow half a dozen of large green peppers to one -peck of tomatoes. Take a large earthen or wooden bowl and lay in a -layer of tomatoes and a layer of onions, sprinkling in a table-spoonful -of salt to each layer; continue this until you have packed together all -you wish to pickle. Then turn a large plate or clean dry board over the -tomatoes, and put some heavy weight, a stone, on top and let it stand -till morning; then drain off all the salt and juice, and pour over -boiling vinegar, strongly spiced with cinnamon, cloves, and very little -allspice and ginger, which should be tied in a little bag, and removed -when the vinegar is poured over; cover close and let them stand a week, -when the vinegar should be poured off, the pickles thoroughly drained, -and cold vinegar poured over the tomatoes. Some chop the onions pretty -fine after they are drained from the salt.</p> - -<p><b>Pickled Nasturtiums.</b>—Gather the seed when green and not fully -grown, and drop them into vinegar as you pick them. When you have a -sufficient quantity scald the whole in vinegar, and bottle them or soak -them twelve hours in brine; then drain and pour over boiling vinegar, -with whole black peppers and allspice tied in a bag. They are often -used as substitutes for capers, and the flowers and young seeds are -used in salads.</p> - -<p><b>Pickled Cauliflower.</b>—Select the most perfect; break off the -flowers, as they would naturally part. Put a layer of them in a jar -and sprinkle over salt; then another layer of cauliflower; then salt, -and so on. Let them soak two days; then wash off the salt and let them -drain well; then pack in a jar or bottle, and pour over boiling spiced -vinegar. In a few days, if necessary, heat the vinegar again, and pour -over them, and cover or cork closely.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</span></p> - -<p><b>Tomato Pickles.</b>—Slice half a peck of green tomatoes very thin; -sprinkle over them half a pint of salt; slice half a dozen onions -and three large peppers full grown, but before they have turned red; -add these to the tomatoes; let them stand twenty-four hours, then -drain them perfectly free of the liquor or brine; mix with them one -table-spoonful of black pepper, one of allspice, one of mustard, -half a table-spoonful of cloves, and the same of cinnamon all finely -powdered; to this add a quarter-pound of whole mustard-seed; stir all -well together and just cover with good cider vinegar. Boil this mixture -until as thick as jam, stirring often to prevent its burning.</p> - -<p><b>To Pickle Onions.</b>—Choose all of a size; peel and pour on them -boiling salt and water; cover close, and when cold drain the onions, -and put them into jars or bottles. For white onions, fill up with hot -distilled vinegar; for colored onions, use white wine vinegar; for -both, add ginger, two or three blades of mace and whole pepper. If -the onions are soaked in milk a little while after peeling, it will -preserve their color.</p> - -<p>Another way is to soak the onions in brine three or four days, then -drain and pour on cold boiled vinegar, with spices. This will insure -their being crisp.</p> - -<p><b>To Pickle Red Cabbage.</b>—Select the purple-red cabbage, take -off the outside leaves, quarter, and take out the stalk, then shred -the cabbage into a colander or small basket, and sprinkle with common -salt. Let it remain a day or two, then drain and put into jars; fill -up with boiling vinegar, spiced with ginger and black pepper, in the -same proportions as for the cucumbers, and add a few slices of red -beet-root; some add a few grains of powdered cochineal. If the vinegar -is <i>boiled</i>, and then allowed to stand until cold before pouring -over the cabbage, it will better insure its crispness, but will not -keep so well as if put on boiling hot.</p> - -<p><b>Cucumber Pickles.</b>—The small long kind are the best for -pickling, and those but half grown are nicer than the full grown. Let -them be freshly gathered; pull off the blossom; but do not rub them; -pour over them a strong brine boiling hot; cover close, and let them -stand all night. The next day put your hand in the jar or tub and -stir gently, to remove all sand; drain on a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</span> sieve, and then dry in -a cloth. Make a pickle with the best cider vinegar, adding spice in -the following proportions: To each quart of vinegar put half an ounce -of whole black pepper, the same of ginger and allspice, and one ounce -of mustard-seed. If the flavor is agreeable, add four shalots and two -cloves of garlic to a gallon of vinegar. When this pickle boils up, -throw in the cucumbers, and make them boil as quickly as possible three -or four minutes. Put them in a jar with the boiling vinegar, and cover -closely. When cold, put in a sprig of <i>dill</i>, the seed downward, -if you like it. Made in this way they will be tender, crisp, and green. -If the color is not quite clear enough, pour off the vinegar the next -day; boil up, and pour over the cucumbers; cover perfectly tight.</p> - -<p><b>To Pickle small Cucumbers and Gherkins.</b>—Choose small perfect -gherkins or cucumbers; spread on platters, mix a small bit of alum, -pulverized, with salt, and cover them; let them lie in this a week. -Then drain them, put them into a jar, cover with boiling vinegar, and -cover it thick with grape-leaves. Set them near the fire. If they do -not become tolerably green after an hour or so, pour the vinegar into -another jar, set it on the hot range or hearth until too hot to bear -your hand in it, but do not let it <i>boil</i>, then pour again over -the pickles, cover with fresh leaves; repeat this till they are as -green as you wish.</p> - -<p><b>Tomato Catsup.</b>—Wash and drain two bushels of fair, ripe -tomatoes; cut out the stems and any imperfect spot; put the fruit -into a kettle, giving each one a squeeze to break the skin as you -throw them in (a brass kettle, <i>scoured perfectly bright</i>, is the -best, as being less likely to burn on the bottom than the porcelain -kettle). Cut up twelve ripe bell-peppers and as many onions, and put -with the tomatoes. Set the kettle over the fire and let the fruit cook -two hours, stirring often from the bottom to prevent the tomatoes -sticking or burning. Then strain through a wire sieve, or better still -a patent scoop and sieve combined, made of tin; with a <i>crank</i> -or handle to turn the paddle, which easily presses the juice and meat -through the strainer at the bottom, leaving seeds and skins inside. -When strained, add a pint and a half of salt, a quart of vinegar, -three table-spoonfuls of ground cinnamon, three of black pepper, two -of cloves, two of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</span> allspice, two of mace, and one of ginger. Boil -slowly twelve hours. Of course it cannot be finished in one day; but -at night must be emptied from the kettle into large wooden or earthen -bowls, covered over closely, and left to stand till morning. The brass -kettle should be well cleaned and dried as soon as emptied, that no -verdigris may form in or around it, and to be all ready for use the -next day. In the morning put the catsup up into the kettle again, and -boil slowly all day, or till as thick as rich cream, so that no clear -liquid will rise to the top. Stir often from the bottom; as it thickens -it will stick to the bottom if not carefully stirred, and scorch very -easily. That will spoil the whole. It is well to turn a plate down on -the bottom of the kettle, it will not burn so readily. People differ -so in their ideas of seasoning—some like food very fiery and highly -seasoned, while others like very little—that it is not possible to -give the exact amount of spices. We have given a medium quantity -which, by tasting, can be varied to suit your own taste. When cooked -sufficiently the catsup should be put into strong bottles tightly -corked and tied down. Very little danger of bursting the bottles or -forcing the cork out. None that we have ever tried have done so. In hot -weather, if kept too damp, it may sour; but we have now some made last -summer as good as the new.</p> - - -<h3>MISCELLANEOUS HINTS.</h3> - -<p><b>To Make Tea.</b>—There is very little skill required in making -tea, and yet very few have it well prepared. It is important that -the water should be <i>boiling</i>, not simply scalding; if it is -not, the tea will be worthless. For English breakfast tea it is best -to allow two heaped teaspoonfuls for each person. Either put the -tea into a perfectly dry pot, and set it on the corner of the range -till heated through, before adding the water, or fill the teapot -with <i>boiling</i> water and let it stand till thoroughly hot; and -then empty it out and put in the tea. This done, pour on two cups of -<i>boiling, bubbling</i> hot water, set it on a range or a trivet -over a spirit lamp, and let it boil two minutes; then add a teacup of -boiling water for every person, and let it boil again for three or four -minutes. Put into the teacups sugar and milk according to the taste of -those who are to use the tea, and fill up with the boiling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</span> tea. When -the cups are once filled, put more boiling water to the tea in the same -proportion, and again set the pot on the trivet to boil again three -or four minutes. The last will be nearly if not quite as good as the -first drawing, some prefer it; but in no case fail to have <i>really -boiling</i> water.</p> - -<p>In making oolong or green teas, less tea is needed, and much less -boiling. In both cases it is well to put the tea into a perfectly dry -teapot, and set it where it will get hot before the water is put in, or -fill the teapot with boiling water, cover close till thoroughly heated, -then pour out the water and put in the tea before the pot has time to -cool, and then cover the tea with boiling water. Set it where it will -simmer, <i>not</i> boil, five minutes before using.</p> - -<p><i>The tea-tree</i>, or shrub, commonly grows from three to six feet -high; but in its wild or native state it is said to reach twenty-four -feet. In China it is cultivated in numerous small plantations. It -resembles the myrtle in the form of the leaf and general appearance. -The blossoms are not unlike those of the wild rose, but smaller, white, -and very fragrant. The blossoms are succeeded by soft green capsules, -containing from one to three white seeds. These capsules are crushed -for oil, which is in general use in China.</p> - -<p><b>Substitute for Milk in Tea and Coffee.</b>—Beat up one egg to every -coffee-cupful of tea or coffee. Put it in a cup and pour over it very -gradually the tea or coffee, very hot, stirring all the time to prevent -the egg from curdling.</p> - -<p><b>Bread Crumbs.</b>—Be very careful that no piece of bread, that can -be used, is wasted. Gather all waste or broken pieces, put them in a -clean dish, and set into the “heater,” if you have one to your stove -or range; if not, into the oven after the cooking for the day is done, -leaving the door open that the pieces may not burn. When thoroughly -dried roll them fine on a board, and with a rolling-pin kept expressly -for the purpose, as it makes a pastry board and pin rough to roll any -hard substance. Sift the crumbs through a colander, and keep them in -a stone pot, in a dry place, covered closely, or put in a linen bag -and hung up in a cool place. They are excellent to use in cooking -many things, as well as for stuffing, and you cannot save too large a -quantity.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</span> If well dried and properly aired, they will keep a year, and -be as sweet as when first rolled, and, aside from the economy, are a -great convenience.</p> - - -<h3>GLEANINGS.</h3> - -<p><b>To Clean Kid Gloves.</b>—Have ready a little new milk in one -saucer, a piece of white soap in another, and a clean cloth folded two -or three times. On the cloth spread out the glove smooth and neat. Take -a piece of flannel, dip it in the milk, then rub off a good quantity of -soap on the wetted flannel, and commence to rub the glove toward the -fingers, holding it firmly with the left hand. Continue this process -until the glove, if white, looks of a dingy yellow, though clean; if -colored, till it looks dry and spoiled. Lay it to dry, and the operator -will soon be gratified to see that the old glove looks nearly new. It -will be soft, glossy, smooth, and elastic.</p> - -<p><b>To Keep Grapes.</b>—The Chinese have a curious method of preserving -grapes, so as to have them at command during the entire year. It -consists in cutting a circular piece out of a ripe pumpkin or gourd, -making an aperture large enough to admit the hand. The interior is next -completely cleaned out, the ripe grapes are placed inside, and the -cover replaced and pressed in firmly. The pumpkins are then kept in a -cool place, and the grapes will be found to retain their freshness for -a very long time.</p> - -<p><b>To Clean Oil-Cloths.</b>—Do not use soap, or scour with a brush, -but wash with soft flannel and lukewarm water; wipe perfectly dry. Then -wring a clean cloth out of skimmed milk, and wipe the oil-cloth over, -moving the cloth one way, straight across, not round in circles or -waves, and finish with a clean, dry cloth. In this way you can keep the -oil-cloth looking fresh and new, and it will last much longer than if -washed with soap and scrubbed with a brush.</p> - -<p><b>Fill your Lamps in the Morning.</b>—Scarcely a week passes but -we read accounts of frightful accidents from kerosene lamps exploding -and killing or scarring for life men, women, and children. A simple -knowledge of the inflammable nature of the liquid will probably put -a stop to nearly all the accidents. As the oil burns down in the -lamp, highly inflammable gas gathers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_487">[Pg 487]</span> over its surface, and as the -oil decreases the gas increases. When the oil is nearly consumed, a -slight jar will inflame the gas, and an explosion is sure to follow. -A bombshell is no more to be dreaded. Now, if the lamp is not allowed -to burn more than half-way down, such accidents are almost impossible. -Always fill your lamp every morning, and then you need never fear an -explosion.</p> - -<p><b>Colored Silk.</b>—Mix equal parts of soft soap, alcohol, and -molasses. Cover a table with a clean cloth, spread the article to -be cleansed on smooth, and, holding firmly with one hand, sponge it -thoroughly with this mixture. If the silk is spotted with grease or -stains, give the spots an extra sponging. When the silk has been well -sponged, rinse in tepid water twice, and finish with a third rinsing in -cold water. Have your irons hot, and iron the silk immediately as it -is taken from the last water. Of course if a dress is to be cleansed, -it will be first ripped apart and each piece sponged, rinsed, and -ironed, before the next is touched. It is a great convenience when two -persons can work together in doing this,—one to sponge, while the -second rinses and irons. This compound for cleansing silk does not -sound inviting, but <i>try it</i>. We have washed the most delicate -colors,—blues, violets, etc.,—and unless the color is entirely taken -out, or paint been transferred to the silk, it is surprising how like -a new silk the dress can be made to look. Cashmeres or merinoes of the -finest color can be thus cleansed and made to look like new; but they -should be rinsed in hot water.</p> - -<p><b>To Remove Fruit Stains.</b>—A solution of chloride of soda will -remove peach and all fruit or vegetable stains, and is also excellent -in removing mildew; but for this it must be applied several times, -and exposed to the sun, while fruit can be removed by it instantly. -Of course it can only be used for white cotton or linen goods. It is -perfectly harmless if well rinsed in clear water immediately after -using.</p> - -<p><b>Bee or Wasp Stings.</b>—Wet some cut tobacco and lay it on the -sting. In five minutes it will be cured. Always keep cut tobacco in the -house for such emergencies. It is invaluable and sure.</p> - -<p><b>To Preserve Brooms.</b>—Wet the broom every week in boiling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_488">[Pg 488]</span> suds, -and it will be toughened by it, will last much longer, will not cut the -carpet, and will sweep as elastic as a new broom.</p> - -<p><b>Glossy Starch.</b>—Put two ounces of white gum-arabic powder into a -pitcher; pour over it a pint of boiling water, stir well and cover it -up; let it stand overnight. In the morning pour it from the dregs into -a clean bottle, and keep for use. A table-spoonful of this stirred into -a pint of starch made in the usual manner will give your lawns, either -black or printed, a new look, which nothing else can give, after being -once washed. Much diluted, it is excellent for thin white muslin.</p> - -<p><b>Salt for Nuts.</b>—Many people find nuts of all kinds injurious, -and some are made seriously ill by them. It is said, and we think -truly, if a little salt be used with them it will prevent any injury or -inconvenience arising from their use.</p> - -<p><b>To Take Ink Stains from Mahogany.</b>—Put a few drops of nitre in a -teaspoonful of water. Touch the ink-spot with a feather dipped in the -mixture; and as soon as the ink disappears, rub it instantly with a -cloth wet in cold water, or there will be a white mark left, which will -be difficult to remove.</p> - -<p><b>To Keep Quinces.</b>—Gather the fruit at the usual time, then put -carefully into barrels so as not to bruise, rejecting all but the -perfectly sound; then fill with water, head up, and put in the cellar. -They will keep all winter, retaining all the peculiar qualities and -flavor of fresh quinces.</p> - -<p><b>Fruit Stains.</b>—When berries and fruits of all kinds are in -season, the housekeeper will find it necessary to look carefully -after the stains. They are easily removed if attended to at once, but -if left to dry for a day or two it will be a more difficult work. -Stretch the stained spot tightly over a deep bowl or pail, and pour -over it <i>boiling</i> hot water, letting it filter through till the -stain disappears. The water must be really <i>boiling</i>, not simply -scalding. If the article has been thrown into suds before looking after -the stains, the hot water will not destroy them. In that case wet the -stain, and while wet spread over the spot some chloride of lime, lay -the piece on the grass, or hang on the clothes-line where the sun will -strike through for a few minutes, and then wash and boil immediately. -This is sure, but should be used with care<span class="pagenum" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</span> and judgment or it will eat -the cloth; but with proper oversight it is safe and reliable. Chloride -of lime is largely used in bleaching linen, cotton, and silk in the -different manufactures. In former times <i>chlorine</i>, or oxygenated -muriatic gas, was used in bleaching, but its effect on the lungs of -the workmen was very injurious. Since chloride of lime has been used -instead of <i>chlorine</i>, it is considered safe for those employed -in factories, and harmless in its effects on the goods bleached. In -pickling, paring, or preserving fruit, the hands get badly stained. Rub -them in lemon-juice; wet your nail-brush in the juice and carefully -brush your nails and hands; this will remove the stains effectually. A -“bleaching liquid,” prepared from chloride of lime, is very effectual -in removing all stains except those made by grease. Put four ounces of -chloride of lime into a wide-mouthed quart bottle, add a little water -and stir well with a stick, then fill the bottle nearly full with -water, and let it stand corked for two weeks, that the chloride may -dissolve. During this time some gas will be disengaged, and to prevent -explosion or driving out the cork it will be well twice a day to remove -the cork for an instant only, and as the gas has an extremely offensive -smell it is important that care should be taken not to inhale it, as it -is injurious to the lungs; when diffused through the apartment in small -quantity it is not hurtful. After standing two weeks, the fluid portion -should be poured off and kept in a bottle in a dark place, with paper -wrapped around it, as light and air injure its properties. This fluid -should be kept in every family, but servants ought not to be allowed to -use it indiscreetly.</p> - -<p><b>Ink Stains.</b>—If <i>ink</i> is spilled on clothes or -carpet, do not allow it to dry, but as speedily as possible get -<i>cotton batting</i>, and, wetting it in sweet milk, soak the spot and -rub with the cotton. Wring the cotton out and soak again with milk, and -if used when the ink is fresh it will soon remove it. This done, wash -in warm soapsuds and rinse in clear warm water.</p> - -<p><b>Buying Furs.</b>—In purchasing furs, a sure test of what dealers -call a prime fur is the length and density of the down next to the -skin. This can be readily determined by blowing a brisk current of air -from the mouth against the set of the fur. If the fibers open readily, -exposing the skin to view, reject the article; but if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</span> the down is so -dense that the breath cannot penetrate it, or at most shows but a small -portion of the skin, the article may be accepted.</p> - -<p><b>Drying Umbrellas.</b>—Most people dry their umbrellas handle -upwards. This concentrates the moisture at the tip where it is close, -rusts the wire which secures the stretchers, and rots the cloth. After -the umbrella is drained, it is better to invert it, and dry it in that -position.</p> - -<p><b>A Tight Ring.</b>—To remove a tightly fitting ring from a finger, -without pain, pass the end of a portion of rather fine twine underneath -the ring, and evenly encircle the finger from below upward (as -whipmakers bind lashes on) with the remainder, as far as the centre of -the finger, then unwind the string from above downward by taking hold -of the end passed under the ring, and it will be found the ring will -gradually pass along the twine toward the tip of the finger.</p> - -<p><b>Scrubbing White Paint.</b>—As little soap as possible should be -used with this, and that in the water and not on the cloth. It not -only makes the paint yellow, but, after a little while, removes it -altogether. A noted housekeeper would never allow either soap or hot -water to be used on paint, except in case of grease. Cold water and -a scrubbing-brush were her weapons of offence in waging warfare with -dirt. This makes hard work, but it gives a very fresh look to paint, -and saves soap and fire, if one is inclined to try it. For greasy -spots use a very little soda (carbonate) in the first water, to be -immediately rinsed off and wiped dry.</p> - -<p><b>How to Wash Graining.</b>—Take clear <i>warm</i> water, a clean, -white cloth, and wash a small place and wipe dry with another <i>clean -white</i> cloth. Do not wet any more space than you can dry immediately -with your cloth, as it must not be left to dry in the atmosphere; it -must be rubbed dry, hence the necessity for clean white cloths. If the -paint has been neglected until very much soiled with greasy fingers, or -specked with a summer’s growth of flies, a very little hard soap may be -put in the first water, and then rinsed off with clear water; but avoid -soap if you possibly can, as it dulls the varnish, however carefully -used. On no account must it be rubbed on with a cloth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</span></p> - -<p>Codfish should be purchased in small quantities, as they are -disagreeable to have in the house. Even the desiccated codfish, that -comes in boxes, cannot be kept so tightly covered as to secure us from -the unpleasant smell. If kept in a dry place they grow hard, if in a -damp place they will spoil. They must be changed from garret to cellar -often to keep them in proper condition, and therefore it is better to -get them only as needed.</p> - -<p>Zante currants and stoneless or sultana raisins should be washed and -dried when first bought, and then packed into jars for use. It is well -to look them over occasionally, to see that they do not become wormy. -If there should be any appearance of mold or worms, empty from the jars -and spread on a cloth or paper to dry, in the warm sun or by the fire. -When dry, repack.</p> - -<p>Keep cheese in a dry place. A cheese-box with perforated wire sides is -the best thing to put it in, as the air will circulate through it. When -the cheese is cut wrap a cloth tightly about it to prevent its drying.</p> - -<p>Smoked beef should be kept in a bag and hung up. Hams, also, when cut, -should be tied into a cloth or bag and hung up in a cool dry place.</p> - -<p>If strawberries, pineapples, and all delicate preserves are kept in a -box and filled in with sand, they will keep better and longer. Sawdust -or tan-bark is not good to fill in around them, as it gathers moisture -and molds the preserves.</p> - -<p>Keep the flour-barrel well covered with a close-fitting wooden cover. -Hang the sifter on a nail over it, but never leave it in the barrel. -Besides being untidy, the accumulation of flour, dough, or moisture -from your hands will soon coat the sieve so that it cannot be used with -ease, and in a short time make the flour musty or sour. It should be -well washed and dried after the baking for each day is finished. No -flour should be use unsifted, both from cleanliness and because the -food will be lighter.</p> - -<p>Indian meal should be kept in a cool, dry place, in a barrel or wooden -pail, and stirred from the bottom often, particularly in warm weather, -as it will readily become sour or musty. Never use without sifting.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</span></p> - -<p>Coffee should be bought by the bag or barrel, as it grows better by age.</p> - -<p>Tea is cheaper by the box, but take out a pound canister at a time, and -replacing the tin foil, nail the box up again.</p> - -<p>Keep the canister always shut, as air injures the tea badly.</p> - -<p>Raisins and starch are cheaper by the box; but raisins must be kept -from heat or air, or they dry up and become almost worthless; and the -starch must be kept covered to protect it from dust.</p> - -<p><b>Household Weights and Measures.</b>—Wheat flour, one pound is one -quart.</p> - -<p>Indian meal, one pound two ounces is one quart.</p> - -<p>Butter, when soft, one pound one ounce is one quart.</p> - -<p>Loaf sugar, broken, one pound is one quart.</p> - -<p>White sugar, powdered, one pound one ounce is one quart.</p> - -<p>Best brown sugar, one pound two ounces is one quart.</p> - -<p>Eggs, average size, ten are one pound.</p> - -<p>Liquid measure, sixteen table-spoonfuls are half a pint.</p> - -<p><b>To test Flour.</b>—Place a little in the palm of the hand, rub -gently with the finger; if the flour smooths down, feeling slippery, it -is inferior flour and will never make good bread, but if it rubs rough -in the palm, feeling like fine sand, and has an orange hue, you may -purchase it confidently. It will not disappoint you.</p> - - -<p class="center p6">THE END.</p> - -<hr> -<p class="center p6">Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center xbig"><b>SOME GOOD BOOKS.</b></p> -<p class="center">FOR SALE BY ALL BOOKSELLERS, OR MAILED, POST-PAID, TO ANY ADDRESS, ON -RECEIPT OF THE PRICE, BY THE PUBLISHERS,</p> - -<p class="center big">J. B. FORD AND COMPANY,</p> - -<p class="center">No. 27 Park Place, New York.</p> - -<hr class="r65"> - -<p class="hang">BEECHER’S SERMONS: <i>First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, -and Sixth Series.</i> From phonographic reports by <span class="smcap">T. -J. Ellinwood</span>, for fifteen years Mr. Beecher’s special -reporter. Uniformly bound in dark brown English cloth. Single -volumes, each complete, price, $2.50; full set of six volumes -for $14.50. Bound in half morocco, $5 per vol.</p> - -<p>Of the first volume the <i>Advance</i>, of Chicago, said:—</p> - -<p>“The volume is a handsome one, and is prefaced with the best portrait -of Mr. Beecher we have ever seen. The sermons are twenty-seven in -number, the regular Sunday morning discourses of six months, and are -a wonderful testimony, not only to the real goodness of heart of the -great Plymouth preacher, but to the fertility of resource, industry of -thought, and rare ability which can keep his regular ministrations to -such a height of average excellence.”</p> - -<p>... “These corrected sermons of perhaps the greatest of living -preachers,—a man whose heart is as warm and catholic as his abilities -are great, and whose sermons combine fidelity and Scriptural -truth, great power, glorious imagination, fervid rhetoric, and -vigorous reasoning, with intense human sympathy and robust common -sense.”—<i>British Quarterly Review.</i></p> - -<p>Each succeeding volume contains, also, six months’ sermons (from 450 -to 500 pp.) issued in style uniform with the <i>First Series</i>. The -<i>Second Series</i> contains a fine interior view of Plymouth Church. -The other volumes are not illustrated.</p> - - -<p class="hang p2">LECTURE-ROOM TALKS. A series of Familiar Discourses, on Themes -of Christian Experience. By <span class="smcap">Henry Ward Beecher</span>. -Phonographically reported by <span class="smcap">T. J. Ellinwood</span>; with -Steel Portrait. 12mo, extra cloth. Price, $1.75. [<i>Out of -print. Will be reissued soon.</i>]</p> - -<p>“J. B. Ford & Co., who are now printers and publishers to the Beecher -family, have collected in a handsome volume the <i>Lecture-Room -Talks</i> of the Brooklyn preacher, held in the weekly prayer-meeting -of the Plymouth Church. There is a great deal of humorous talk mingled -with much that is serious, and the subjects discussed are of the -most varied kind. It is a charming book.”—<i>Springfield (Mass.) -Republican.</i></p> - - -<p class="hang p2">MY WIFE AND I; or, Harry Henderson’s History. A Novel. By -<span class="smcap">Harriet Beecher Stowe</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">H. L. -Stephens</span>. 474 pages; extra cloth, stamped cover, $1.75.</p> - -<p>This novel is the success of the year. It has been selling very rapidly -ever since its publication. <i>Everybody is reading it.</i></p> - -<p>“Always bright, piquant, and entertaining, with an occasional touch of -tenderness, strong because subtle, keen in sarcasm, full of womanly -logic directed against unwomanly tendencies, Mrs. Stowe has achieved an -unbounded success in this her latest effort.”—<i>Boston Journal.</i></p> - -<p class="hang p2">MATERNITY: A Popular Treatise for Wives and Mothers. By <span class="smcap">T. -S. Verdi</span>, A. M., M. D., of Washington, D. C. Handsomely -printed on fine paper, bevelled boards, extra English cloth. -12mo. 450 pp. Price, $2.25. <i>Fourth Edition.</i></p> - -<p>“The author deserves great credit for his labor, and the book merits -an extensive circulation.”—<i>U. S. Medical and Surgical Journal -(Chicago).</i></p> - -<p>“There are few intelligent mothers who will not be benefited by reading -and keeping by them for frequent counsel a volume so rich in valuable -suggestions. With its tables, prescriptions, and indices at the end, -this book ought to do much good.”—<i>Hearth and Home.</i></p> - -<p>“We hail the appearance of this work with true pleasure. It is dictated -by a pure and liberal spirit, and will be a real boon to many a young -mother.”—<i>American Medical Observer (Detroit).</i></p> - - -<p class="hang p2">THE CHILDREN’S WEEK: Seven Stories for Seven Days. By <span class="smcap">R. -W. Raymond</span>. 16mo. Nine full page illustrations by <span class="smcap">H. -L. Stephens</span> and <span class="smcap">Miss M. L. Hallock</span>. Price, extra -cloth, $1.25; cloth, full gilt, $1.50.</p> - -<p>“The book is bright enough to please any people of culture, and yet so -simple that children will welcome it with glee. Mr. Raymond’s tales -have won great popularity by their wit, delicate fancy, and, withal, -admirable good sense. The illustrations—all new and made for the -book—are particularly apt and pleasing, showing forth the comical -element of the book and its pure and beautiful sentiment.”—<i>Buffalo -(N. Y.) Commercial Advertiser.</i></p> - -<p class="hang p2">THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. By <span class="smcap">Henry Ward Beecher</span>. -Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Harry Fenn</span>. 12mo, tinted paper, extra -cloth, gilt. Price, $2.00.</p> - -<p>This exquisite gift book is an excerpt from Mr. Beecher’s great work, -the “Life of Jesus the Christ.” It is a series of pictures, in the -author’s happiest style, of the Angelic Appearances, giving a beautiful -and characteristically interesting treatment of all the events recorded -in the Gospels as occurring about the period of the nativity of our -Lord.</p> - -<p>“The style, the sentiment, and faithfulness to the spirit of the -Biblical record with which the narrative is treated are characteristic -of its author, and will commend it to many readers, to whom its -elegance of form will give it an additional attraction.”—<i>Worcester -(Mass.) Spy.</i></p> - -<p>“A perfect fragment.”—<i>New York World.</i></p> - - -<p class="hang p2">OUR SEVEN CHURCHES: Eight Lectures by <span class="smcap">Thomas K. -Beecher</span>. 16mo. Paper, 50 cents; extra cloth, $1; cloth, -gilt, $1.25.</p> - -<p>“The eight lectures comprised in this volume are conceived in a spirit -of broad liberality as refreshing as it is rare. They evince, in the -most gratifying manner possible, how easy it is to find something -good in one’s neighbors or opponents, or even enemies, if one tries -faithfully to do so, instead of making an effort to discover a fault -or a weakness. The volume is one which should have, as it undoubtedly -will, a wide circulation.”—<i>Detroit Free Press.</i></p> - - -<p class="hang p2">MINES, MILLS, AND FURNACES of the Precious Metals of the United -States. Being a complete Exposition of the General Methods -employed in the great Mining Industries of America, including -a Review of the present Condition and Prospects of the Mines -throughout the Interior and Pacific States. By <span class="smcap">Rossiter -W. Raymond</span>, Ph. D., United States Commissioner of Mining -Statistics, President American Inst. Mining Engineers, Editor -of the <i>Engineering and Mining Journal</i>, author of “The -Mines of the West,” “American Mines and Mining,” etc., etc. 1 -vol. 8vo. 566 pages. Illustrated with engravings of machines -and processes. Extra cloth, $3.50.</p> - -<p>“The author is thorough in his subject, and has already published a -work on our mines which commanded universal approval by its clearness -of statement and breadth of views.”—<i>Albany (N. Y.) Argus.</i></p> - -<p>“His scientific ability, his practical knowledge of mines and mining, -his unerring judgment, and, finally, the enthusiasm with which he -enters upon his work, all combine to fit him for his position, -and none could bring to it a greater degree of uprightness and -fairness.”—<i>Denver (Col.) News.</i></p> - - -<p class="hang p2">PRINCIPLES OF DOMESTIC SCIENCE: As applied to the Duties -and Pleasures of Home. By <span class="smcap">Catharine E. Beecher</span> and -<span class="smcap">Harriet Beecher Stowe</span>. A compact 12mo volume of 390 -pages, profusely illustrated; well printed, and bound in neat -and substantial style. Price, $2.00.</p> - -<p>Prepared with a view to assist in training young women for the -distinctive duties which inevitably come upon them in household life, -this volume has been made with especial reference to the duties, cares, -and pleasures of <i>the family</i>, as being the place where, whatever -the political developments of the future, woman, from her very nature -of body and of spirit, will find her most engrossing occupation. It is -full of interest for all intelligent girls and young women.</p> - -<p><span class="big">☞</span> The work has been heartily endorsed and adopted by the directors -of many of the leading Colleges and Seminaries for young women as a -text-book, both for study and reading.</p> - - -<p class="hang p2">HISTORY OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK. From the date of the -Discovery and Settlements on Manhattan Island to the Present -Time. A Text-Book for High Schools, Academies, and Colleges. By -<span class="smcap">S. S. Randall</span>, Superintendent of Public Education in -New York City. 12mo vol, 396 pages. Illustrated. Price, $1.75.</p> - -<p>“This work contains so much valuable information that it should -be found in every house in the State as a volume of reference. -Its value for use in educational institutions is of a very high -character.”—<i>Northern Budget, Troy (N. Y.).</i></p> - -<p><span class="big">☞</span> Officially adopted by the Boards of Education in the cities of New -York, Brooklyn, and Jersey City for use in the Public Schools, and also -extensively used in Private Schools throughout the State, both as a -text-book and alternate reader.</p> - -<hr class="r5"> - -<p class="hang p2">H. W. BEECHER’S WORKS. Uniform edition. This is a set of books -long needed in the trade. It will include “Norwood,” “Lectures -to Young Men,” “Eyes and Ears,” “Summer in the Soul,” the early -“Star Papers,” a new edition of “Lecture-Room Talks,” and other -works, embracing some which are now out of print, and for which -there is constant call.</p> - - -<p>The first volumes issued in this new edition of Mr. Beecher’s minor -works are</p> - -<p class="center simple">YALE LECTURES ON PREACHING,</p> - -<p class="noindent">Price, extra cloth, $1.25; half calf, $2.50; and a new -edition of</p> - -<p class="center simple">LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN,</p> - -<p class="noindent">including several new lectures never before published, a -new Introduction by the author, etc., etc. Price, extra cloth, $1.50; -half calf, $3.00.</p> - -<p class="center simple">STAR PAPERS,</p> - -<p class="noindent">A new edition, including much new matter added to the -original book. Price, extra cloth, $1.75; half calf, $3.25.</p> - -<hr class="r5"> - -<p class="center">A FRESH BOOK BY GRACE GREENWOOD.</p> - - -<p class="hang p2">NEW LIFE IN NEW LANDS: <span class="smcap">Notes of Western Travel</span>. Racy, -sparkling, readable, full of wit and keen observation, it gives -a series of brilliant pen pictures along the great route from -the Mississippi to the Pacific. 12mo. 396 pp. Price, extra -cloth, stamped cover, $2.00.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<p class="center"> -<span class="big">A BRILLIANT SUCCESS.</span><br> -<br> -IN CONSTANT DEMAND! RAPID AND CONTINUED SALES!!<br> -<br> -500 Volumes in One.<br> -<br> -<span class="big"><b>AGENTS WANTED</b></span><br> -<br> -FOR THE<br> -<br> -<span class="smcap xbig">Library of Poetry and Song</span>,<br> -<br> -BEING<br> -<br> -<b><span class="big">Choice Selections from the Best Poets</span></b>,<br> -<br> -ENGLISH, SCOTCH, IRISH, AND AMERICAN, INCLUDING TRANSLATIONS<br> -FROM THE GERMAN, SPANISH, etc.<br> -<br> -WITH AN INTRODUCTION<br> -<br> -<span class="big"><span class="smcap">By</span> WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT,</span><br> -<br> -<i>Under whose careful Supervision the Work was Compiled</i>.<br> -</p> - -<div class="front"> - -<p class="center">In one Superb Large Octavo Volume of over 800 pages, well -printed, on<br> Fine Paper, and Illustrated with an admirable -Portrait on Steel of<br> Mr. Bryant, together with twenty-six -Autographic<br> Fac-Similes on Wood of Celebrated Poets,<br> besides -other choice Full-page<br> Engravings, by the<br> best Artists.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>The handsomest and cheapest subscription book extant. <i>A Library -of over <b>500</b> Volumes in one book</i>, whose contents, of no -ephemeral nature or interest, will never grow old or stale. It can be, -and will be, read and re-read with pleasure as long as its leaves hold -together.</p> - -<p>This book has been prepared with the aim of gathering into a single -volume the largest practicable compilation of the best Poems of the -English language, making it as nearly as possible the choicest and most -complete general collection of Poetry yet published.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"> -THE<br> -<br> -<span class="big"><b>“LIBRARY OF POETRY AND SONG”</b></span><br> -</p> -</div> -<p class="noindent">Is a volume destined to become one of the most popular -books ever printed. It is truly a people’s book. Its contents would -cost hundreds of dollars in the books whence they are gleaned, English -and American; and, indeed, although one possessed the volumes, the -reading of such vast numbers of pages would be a labor not readily -undertaken by most people, even those who appreciate poetry.</p> - -<hr class="r5"> -<p class="center"><b>The New York Times</b>,</p> - -<p class="noindent">A journal well known the country over for high literary -excellence and correct taste, says:—</p> - -<p>“This very handsome volume differs from all collections of ‘elegant -extracts,’ parlor books, and the like, which we have seen, in being -arranged according to an intelligible and comprehensive plan, in -containing selections which nearly cover the entire historical period -over which English poetry extends, and in embracing matter suited to -every conceivable taste and every variety of feeling and culture. -<i>We know of no similar collection in the English language which, -in copiousness and felicity of selection and arrangement, can at -all compare with it.</i>... The volume is a model of typographical -clearness.”</p> - - -<p class="center"><b>The Albany Evening Journal</b>,</p> - -<p class="noindent">One of the oldest papers and highest literary standards in -the country, says:—</p> - -<p>“It is undoubtedly ‘the choicest and most complete general collection -of poetry yet published.’ It will be deemed sufficient proof of the -judicious character of the selections, and of their excellence, that -‘every poem has taken its place in the book only after passing the -cultured criticism of Mr. William Cullen Bryant,’ whose portrait -constitutes the fitting frontispiece of the volume. The work could have -no higher indorsement. Mr. Bryant’s Introduction to the volume is a -most beautiful and critical essay on poets and poetry, from the days -of ‘the father of English poetry’ to the present time.... <i>No other -selection we know of is as varied and complete as this</i>: and it must -find its way into every library and household where poetry is read and -appreciated.”</p> - -<hr class="r5"> - -<p>This book, supplying a real public need in an admirable manner, has -constantly sold so fast that the publishers have had trouble to keep up -their stock. It has won an <span class="allsmcap">INSTANT AND PERMANENT POPULARITY</span>.</p> - -<p><b>Terms liberal.</b> Agents all like it, and buyers are more than -pleased with it. <span class="big">☞</span> Send for Circular and Terms to</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span style="margin-right: 2.5em;">J. B. FORD & CO., Publishers,</span><br> -27 Park Place, New York.<br> -</p> - -<p><b>BRANCH OFFICES</b>: Boston, 11 Bromfield Street; Chicago, 75 West -Washington Street; San Francisco, 339 Kearney Street.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="center"> -<span class="simple">A HOUSEHOLD BOOK.</span><br> -<br> -NINE UNABRIDGED, WORLD-RENOWNED VOLUMES IN ONE.<br> -</p> -</div> - -<hr class="r5"> -<p class="center"> -<span class="big">AGENTS WANTED</span><br> -FOR THE</p> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap xbig">Library of Famous Fiction</span>,</p> -<p class="center"> -<span class="small">EMBRACING THE</span></p> -<p class="center"> -<span class="big">Nine Standard Masterpieces of Imaginative Literature</span></p> -<p class="center"> -<span class="small">(UNABRIDGED)</span>,</p> -<p class="center"> -<i>WITH AN INTRODUCTION</i></p> -<p class="center"> -<span class="big"><span class="smcap">By</span> HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.</span></p> -<p class="center"> -BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED</p> - -<div class="front"> -<p class="center"> -With <b>34 Full-page Engravings</b>; executed by the best Artists in -England<br> and America; with an Illuminated Title-Page, Biographical<br> -Notice of each Author, etc.,—in one Elegant Large<br> Octavo Volume -of nearly <b>1,100 pages</b>, brilliantly<br> printed on fine paper, -handsomely<br> and substantially bound.<br> -</p> -</div> - -<hr class="r5"> -<p>In their present venture, the publishers congratulate themselves that -the matter offered has been endorsed by the approval of the entire -reading world for many generations. The remarkable success attending -their <i>Library of Poetry and Song</i>, put forth under the auspices -of that greatest American poet, <span class="smcap">William Cullen Bryant</span>, -naturally suggested the idea of a corresponding <i>Library of Famous -Fiction</i>, to be guaranteed and set before the public by the most -popular American writer of fiction known to this day,—<span class="smcap">Mrs. Harriet -Beecher Stowe</span>. Thus have been combined the nine great masterpieces -of imaginative prose, embodying in a single convenient volume those -Famous Fictions which have been admired and loved always, everywhere, -and by all classes.</p> - -<p>Their number is not large; their names rise spontaneously, and by -common consent, in every mind: <i>Pilgrim’s Progress</i>; <i>Robinson -Crusoe</i>; <i>The Vicar of Wakefield</i>; <i>Gulliver’s Travels</i> -(revised); <i>Paul and Virginia</i>; <i>Picciola</i>; <i>Elizabeth, -or the Exiles of Siberia</i>; <i>Undine</i>; <i>Vathek</i>; <i>and a -Selection of Tales from the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments</i>. As -<span class="smcap">Mrs. Stowe</span> says in her Introduction, “not a single one could -be spared from this group, in gathering those volumes of fiction which -the world, without dissent, has made <i>classic</i>.”</p> - - -<p><span class="big">☞</span> Sold only by Subscription through our Agents. <span class="big">☜</span></p> - -<p><b>TERMS LIBERAL.</b> Send for full description and business circulars, -to</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span style="margin-right: 3em;">J. B. FORD & CO., Publishers,</span><br> -<b>27 Park Place, New York</b>.<br> -</p> - -<p><b>BRANCH OFFICES</b>: Boston, 11 Bromfield Street; Chicago, 75 West -Washington Street; San Francisco, 339 Kearney Street.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="center"> -SOLD ONLY BY AGENTS.</p> -<p class="center fancy"> -A BOOK FOR EVERYBODY!</p> -</div> - - -<p class="center"> -The very remarkable success of this book is not strange, although -it is having unprecedented sales.</p> -<p class="center"><span class="xbig">THE LIFE</span><br> -OF<br> -<span class="xbig">JESUS THE CHRIST</span>,<br> -BY<br> -<span class="big">HENRY WARD BEECHER</span>. -</p> - -<hr class="r65"> -<p class="center"><b>From the Boston (Mass.) Traveller.</b></p> - -<p>“This work has a deeper purpose to serve than that of mere ornament. -It is the product of a life of thought and loving labor in study of -the character and life of Jesus, and a remarkably successful career of -presenting it to the popular mind in the ministry of the pulpit.</p> - -<p>“The demand for this book will be great among the searchers after -knowledge, and it will be a standard for Christian homes and libraries. -It is destined to exert a tremendous influence, not only in this day -and generation, but in all time.”</p> - - -<p class="center"><b>By the Rev. Joseph P. Thompson, LL. D., from an article in The -Independent.</b></p> - -<p>“That which first impresses one in Mr. Beecher’s book is the maturity -of the work, both in its conception and in its execution. If any have -expected to find in it rhetorical fancies struck out at extemporaneous -heat, declamatory statements—‘the spontaneities of all his individual -personal life’—projected from some fusing centre of philosophy within, -but not welded into logical consistency, they have yet to know Mr. -Beecher through this book, as working by method upon a well-ordered -scheme of thought, and with a deep philosophic purpose toward one -great, overmastering conception. He has neither thrown off his random -thoughts nor strung together his best thoughts; but has brought all his -powers, in the maturity of their strength, in the richness of their -experience, and the largeness of their development, to produce a work -that may fitly represent the labors and the results of his life.”</p> - -<hr class="r5"> -<p class="center"><b>More Agents Wanted.</b></p> - -<p>Intelligent men and women may obtain lucrative employment by taking an -agency. Full descriptive Circulars mailed free. Very liberal terms to -Canvassers. Apply to</p> - -<p class="center"> -J. B. FORD & CO., -</p> - -<p class="noindent"><b>27 Park Place, New York</b>; <b>11 Bromfield St., -Boston, Mass.</b>; <b>75 West Washington St., Chicago, Ill.</b>; <b>339 -Kearney St., San Francisco, Cal.</b></p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> - - -<p class="center"> -THE</p> -<p class="center"><span class="xbig">CHRISTIAN UNION</span></p> -<p class="center"> -IS AN UNSECTARIAN RELIGIOUS WEEKLY.</p> -<p class="center"> -<span class="big">HENRY WARD BEECHER</span>,</p> -<p class="center"> -<b>Editor</b>. -</p> -</div> - - -<p>This journal has had a very remarkable success, <i>in two years</i> -attaining a circulation surpassing that of any other religious weekly -in the world.</p> - - -<p class="center"><b>WHY IS IT?</b></p> - - -<p class="hang"><b>Because</b>, <i>First</i>, <span class="smcap">Henry Ward Beecher</span> is -its Editor, and his Editorials, Star Papers, and occasional -Literary Reviews and <i>Lecture-Room Talks</i> are sought for -by thousands, while the auxiliary editorial labor is in the -hands of cultivated journalists; <i>the CONTRIBUTORS being -representative men and women of ALL Denominations</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang"><b>Because</b>, <i>Secondly</i>, ITS FORM, twenty-four pages, -large quarto, <span class="allsmcap">SECURELY PASTED AT THE BACK AND CUT AT -THE EDGES</span>, is so convenient for reading, binding, and -preservation, as to be a great and special merit in its favor.</p> - -<p class="hang"><b>Because</b>, <i>Thirdly</i>, <i>It is called “the most -Interesting Religious Paper published</i>,” being quoted from -by the press of the entire country more extensively than any -other. The critical <i>Nation</i> (N. Y.) says it is “Not only -the ablest and best, but also, as we suppose, the most popular -of American religious periodicals. At all events it is safe to -predict that it will soon have, if it has not already, greater -influence than any other religious paper in the country.”</p> - -<p class="hang"><b>Because</b>, <i>Fourthly</i>, <i>It has something for -every Member of the Household</i>: admirable contributed -and editorial articles, discussing all timely topics, fresh -information on unhackneyed subjects; reliable news of the -Church and the world; Market and Financial Reports; an -Agricultural Department; excerpts of Public Opinion from the -press; careful Book Reviews, with Educational, Literary, -Musical, and Art Notes; much matter of a high and pure -religious tone; a Household Department; choice Poems; Household -Stories; and Chat for the Little Ones.</p> - -<p class="hang"><b>Because</b>, <i>Fifthly</i>, Every subscriber is presented -with</p> - -<p class="center"><b><span class="big">TWO SUPERB OIL CHROMOS</span></b>,</p> - -<p class="center">“<span class="simple">WIDE AWAKE</span>” <span class="allsmcap">AND</span> “<span class="simple">FAST ASLEEP</span>,”</p> - -<p class="noindent"><i>A pair</i>,—no cheap colored prints, but splendid -copies of Oil Paintings, by an eminent English artist. The selling -price of the pair is (<b>$10</b>) <i>Ten Dollars</i>, at which price -thousands have been sold in America, and still are selling and will be -sold by the picture trade generally.</p> - -<p>Or, if any should prefer it, the subscriber will be presented with our -new, large, and</p> - - -<p class="center big"><b>EXQUISITE OLEOGRAPH</b>,</p> - -<p class="noindent">from a charming painting by <span class="smcap">Lobrichon</span> (one of the most -brilliant artists of the Parisian school), entitled</p> - -<p class="center simple">“LITTLE RUNAWAY AND HER PETS.”</p> - -<p class="noindent">The size (14½ × 21½ inches) makes it a very large picture, and it -is an admirable and artistic centre-piece for “Wide Awake” and “Fast -Asleep,” or a most delicate, attractive, and beautiful work of art in -itself.</p> - -<hr class="r5"> -<p class="center"><b>TERMS</b>.</p> - -<table class="autotable"> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> One Year’s Subscription</td> -<td class="tdl"> (including <i>unmounted</i> Pictures)</td> -<td class="tdr"> $3.00</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Do.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">do.</span></td> -<td class="tdl"> (including Pictures <i>mounted</i>; the Chromos on card board, or the Oleograph on canvas, sized, varnished, and ready for framing)</td> -<td class="tdr"> 3.25</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> Two <span style="margin-left: .5em;">do.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">do.</span></td> -<td class="tdl"> (including all the Pictures, sized, varnished, etc.)</td> -<td class="tdr"> 5.75</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl" colspan="2"> <span class="smcap">The Christian Union</span> and <span class="smcap">Plymouth Pulpit</span> mailed for one year to one address (including Chromos as above) for $5.00 or</td> -<td class="tdr"> 5.25</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="big">☞</span> In all cases, <i>ten cents extra</i> must be sent to defray the cost -of wrapping and mailing the pictures to the subscriber’s address. <span class="big">☜</span></p> - -<hr class="r5"> -<p><span class="big">☞</span> Canvassers allowed liberal Commissions.</p> - -<p>An old agent who knows says: “I have never presented anything for sale -that met with the approval of the entire reading community as nearly -as does <span class="smcap">Henry Ward Beecher’s</span> CHRISTIAN UNION. Sorry I did not -work for it sooner. Think it <i>the best business for canvassers ever -offered by any firm</i>, to my knowledge.”</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span style="margin-right: 3.5em;">J. B. FORD & CO., Publishers,</span><br> -27 Park Place, New York City.<br> -</p> - -<p><b>BRANCH OFFICES</b>: Boston, 11 Bromfield Street; Chicago, 75 West -Washington Street; San Francisco, 339 Kearney Street.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="center">PLYMOUTH PULPIT</p> -</div> -<p class="center">Is a weekly pamphlet Publication of Sermons preached by</p> - -<p class="center">HENRY WARD BEECHER,</p> - -<p class="noindent">Printed from <span class="smcap">Mr. T. J. Ellinwood’s</span> careful, -verbatim phonographic reports, taken down from the speaker’s lips. -This issue is the only regularly authorized edition of them, the one -endorsed by <span class="smcap">Mr. Beecher’s</span> approval as correct, and sanctioned -by his authority. It is well printed on good paper, in book form; it is -<i>suitable for binding and preservation</i>, and it is <i>cheap</i>, -within the reach of all. The publishers have also responded to the -demand for a continued insertion of the Prayers before and after -the Sermon, as among the most spiritually profitable of <span class="smcap">Mr. -Beecher’s</span> ministrations. Besides this, the Scriptural lesson and -hymns sung (Plymouth Collection) are indicated, thus making a complete -record of one service of Plymouth Church for each Sunday.</p> - - -<p class="center">CRITICAL OPINIONS.</p> - - -<p class="center"><b>BRITISH</b>.</p> - -<p>“They are magnificent discourses. I have often taken occasion to -say that Beecher is the greatest preacher that ever appeared in the -world; this judgment is most soberly considered and most deliberately -pronounced; his brilliant fancy, his deep knowledge of human nature, -his affluent language, and the many-sidedness of his noble mind, -conspire to place him at the head of all Christian speakers.”—<span class="smcap">Rev. -Dr. Parker</span>, in <i>The Pulpit Analyst</i> (<i>Article</i> “<span class="smcap">Ad -Clerum</span>”).</p> - -<p>“These corrected Sermons of perhaps the greatest of living -preachers,—a man whose heart is as warm and catholic as his -abilities are great, and whose Sermons combine fidelity to Scriptural -truth, great power, glorious imagination, fervid rhetoric, and -vigorous reasoning, with intense human sympathy and robust common -sense.”—<i>British Quarterly Review.</i></p> - -<p>“They are without equal among the published sermons of the day. -Everywhere we find ourselves in the hands of a man of high and noble -impulses, of thorough fearlessness, of broad and generous sympathies, -who has consecrated all his wealth of intelligence and heart to the -service of preaching the Gospel.”—<i>Literary World</i>, London.</p> - - -<p class="center"><b>AMERICAN</b>.</p> - -<p>“We certainly find in these sermons a great deal which we can -conscientiously commend, and that amply justifies the exalted position -which their author holds among American preachers. They are worthy -of great praise for the freshness, vigor, and earnestness of their -style; for the beauty and oftentimes surprising aptness of their -illustrations; for the large amount of consolatory and stimulating -thought embodied in them, and for the force and skill with which -religious considerations are made to bear upon the most common -transactions of life.”—<i>Bibliotheca Sacra</i>, Andover, Mass.</p> - -<p>“In point of ability and eloquence he has scarcely a rival, while in -the magnetism that arises from earnestness and deep, broad, humanity, -he is absolutely unrivalled. No preacher of the present age exercises -so wide and potent an influence. And he reaches a class that ordinary -preachers fail to touch.”—<i>Philadelphia Inquirer.</i></p> - -<p>Mr. Beecher “by his genius, and without any direct effort, has more -influence upon the ministerial profession than all the theological -seminaries combined. The discourses are rich in all that makes -religious literature valuable.”—<i>Chicago Evening Journal.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5"> -<p>Vol. I., No. 1, of <span class="smcap">Plymouth Pulpit</span> was issued September 26, -1868. Each <i>Volume</i> contains twenty-six numbers, being one sermon -each week for six months. This gives annually two volumes of <i>nearly -five hundred</i> pages each.</p> - -<hr class="r5"> - -<p><b>TERMS.</b>—Single numbers, ten cents. Yearly Subscription price, -<b>$3.00</b>. Half yearly, <b>$1.75</b>. Subscriptions may begin with -any number. 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