u. .. 'A‘zv waa-aeya‘mtmw”w

-:J:al.;‘.;{.~ " V

 

 

 

DETROIT, OCTOBER 10, 1887.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

POLL Y PJNSY.

 

Pretty Polly Pansy
Hasn‘t any hair—
Just a ruff of god down
Fit for ducks to wear;
Merry, twinkling blue eyes.
Noselet underneath.
And a pair of plump lips
Innocent of teeth.

Eithtr side each soft cheek
A jolly little ear,

Painted like a conch shell—
Isn‘t she a dear?

Twice five little fingers.
Ten little toes,

Polly‘s always counting.
So of course she knows.

'If you take a teacup.
Polly wants to drink:
If you write a letter.
What delicious ink !
Helps you read your paper
Knows of half the town,
fields it just as you do.
But ah, it‘s upside down:

Polly, when she‘s sleepy.
Means to rub her eyes:

Thumps her nose so blindly,
Ten to one she cries.

Niddle, noddle, numkin,
Pretty lids shut fast,

Ring the bells and fire the guns,
Polly‘s off at last!

Pop her in the cradle,
Draw the curtains round.
Fists are good for sucking—
Don’t we know the sound?
Oh, my Polly Pansy.
Can it, can it be,
That we ugly old folks
Once resembled thee?
———OO.——-—

WHAT TO DO WITH THE PORK.

 

In most farmers’ houses, pork is the
“mainstay” ofthe family, so far as meat
is concerned. It seems very important,
therefore, that farmers should know the
best ways of curing and cooking it. Pork
is not usually considered a very healthy
diet, but that depends. The hog that was
kept in a filthy pen and fed almost ex-
clusively on corn till it was three or four
years old, the meat packed before the ani-
mal heat had left it, and then warmed
through in a spider and served swimming
in its own grease, was not to be recom-
mended as the best food in the world. But
the discovery of trichinae in pork, and the
scientific investigations which followed,
had at least one very beneficial result; it
banished the veteran from our markets and
taught farmers to kill pig pork for safety.
Then they found that the latter was not
only far more delicate eating, but also more
economical. .

In our best farmers’ families, pork does

 

not hold its old supremacy as a meat. The
butcher’s wagon penetrates the country
b jways, twice or three times a week, and
the salt diet is pleasantly varied. Less side
pork is used, and hams and bacon make
u 're inviting fare, especially in summer
when the very sight of a dish of fried pork
seems out harmony with nature. so to

speak.

Pigs of about 150 pounds weight make
the most desirable meat for packing. They
should be “finished off " on corn, but not
be made so fat that only the famous “ Mrs.
Jack Spratt who could eat no lean " could
eat them. The hams and shoulders, cut to
a nice shape, put in a sweet pickle made of
a pound of brown sugar and a pound and a
half of salt to a gallon of water, and then
smoked, are good enough eating for any
body. Do not cut them up into shavings
and fry till like basswood chips, but cut
into slices a third of an inch thick and cook
till the fat portion is brown. To broil
ham, cut it thin and cook it quickly.

Take all of the side meat you can, to cure
for breakfast bacon; that having “ a streak
of fat and a streak of lean ” is best for this
purpose. Then, instead of salting down all
the fat portions that are left, try out the
fattest and the trimmings not fit for
sausage, for lard; you won't lose anything
in the long run; you don’t have to live on
fat pork.

Never allow meat to be packed, lard to be
tried out, or sausage to be made. until it is
thoroughly cooled. It must not freeze, but
no latent animal heat should be left in it.
A great many people are unwise in this re-
spect, and complain their meat spoils. Rub
the hams and shoulders with salt and let
them lie a couple of days before you put
them in pickle; this is to extract the blood.
In cool weather, the hams can lie in pickle
a month or six weeks. After they are
smoked, tie each one in a paper bag, such
as are used to put flour in, and hang in a
dark cool cellar or smokehouse.

The leaf lard and the trimmings of the
side meat and hams can be tried out for
lard as soon as cool. The lard from the en-
trails should soak in cold water. to which
a handful of salt has been added, at least
twelve hours, the water being changed once
at least. It should then be well drained,
and carefully looked over, cutting it into
small pieces, and carefully removing all
“strings" (blood-vessels), kernels and the
tough skin that covers some parts. It is
these kernels that make the lard bitter. If
this work is properly done, anda raw potato
is sliced thin and fried in the lard before

\

 

using. it will be found just as good as leaf
lard for most purposes.

A S rginaw firm has taken out a patent on
a smoked salt, which. while it salts the
meat, also imparts the tlavor and preserva-
tive qualities secured by smoking. quite a
saving of time and trouble. Diners use
“liquid smoke,” a preparation of creosote,
which is also preservative. and said to af—
ford an excellent protection against taint
and flies.

A slice of bacon.'CL1red just as the hams
are cured, cut thin and fried a nice golden
brown, is appetizing: and with a baked
potato, mutiins and a cup of good coffee.
good enough breakfast for even hearty
working men. Then for a change we can
have slices of ham served with fried eggs,
or broiled over a quick fire.

I never could understand how people can
bear to dine on liver, taken from the just
slaughtered beast, while it is still warm,
nor yet how they can eat chickens that per-
haps half an hour previous were crowing
lustily. I remember stopping at a hotel
once and ordering supper a little after the
usual hour of serving. Happening to walk
in the end of the long hall through the
house, which commanded a view of the
kitchen, I beheld the decapitation and de-
feathering of a couple of Spring chickens
which, still quivering, were clapped upon
the gridiron, and all in a space of time
“quicker ’n wink.” No supper for me
there that night. Yet I suppose many
would think it “only a spleeny notion.”

BEATRIK.

GOOD LIVING.

 

Food, which makes blood and bones, is
we all know a vital necessity. Custom
has ordained we shall eat three times daily,
and cooks have invented thousands of pre-
parations to appease hunger, some of which
are healthful, others very much the reverse.
The woman who orders the diet of a family
has a very important duty assigned her.
In no mean degree she is responsible for
their health, and also happiness, since
health and happiness are interdependent in
a measure. She ought, therefore, to ask
herself earnestly “What constitutes good
living?" Physicians often tell us children
are made dyspeptics in the cradle—how ter-
rible that a mother's ignorance or careless-
ness should lay the foundation of disease
in babyhood from which the adult must suf-
fer!

In far too many families “good living”
means cakes, pies, pickles and jams, and
the “cookie jar” always accessible to the
children. It means buckwheat cakes and

 


'2

T-I-IE HOUSEHOLD.

  

 

sausage gravy and coffee for the four year
old, a diet calculated to imperil the digestion
of the grown man. It means a lunch of
cold pie and fried cakes for the school—girl,
and a bacon rind for the baby “to keep it
quiet.” Now this is unhealthful living,
and too an expensive and laborious living,
for the cakes and pies make big drafts
upon the time and energy of the cook, as
well as upon the groceries. At a farmer’s
table you will often find but one vegetable,
and that the indispensable potato, but you
will be served with two or three kinds of
pie and cake. The man himself eats
heartily of improper food, but his out door
life and abundant exercise counteract the
effects in a measure. Not so, however,
with wife and children, who spend their
hours in the home and the school room.

Fruits and vegetables make up our best
living; fruit au nat’urel or stewed, not im-
prisoned in dough, baptized by fire and
christened “pie,” or so di gtiised by sugar
and spice that one would never know its
flavor. Oatmeal and cream—not milk
skimmed till it is blue—is a nourishing,
healthy dish which ought to appear on
every breakfast table. Never stint the
children as regards fruit, except to see that
it is ripe and not over-ripe, and is eaten at
proper times and not to excess. Do not
permit the free use of milk with raw acid
fruit, unless you are prepared for sickness
asa resultant. Above all, do not furnish
the school-girl, sitting over her books all
day, a lunch which will lie like lead on her
stomach, but see she has light, tender bread
and good butter for the sandwiches, and
fruit, fresh or stewed, withalight plain
cake to “ top off with.” Mothers ought to
be better informed in regard to the hygiene

of foods, and then have courage to live up_

to their convictions. We cannot be a
healthy people—indeed we are often called
a nation of dyspeptics—until wives and
mothers are wise in such matters.

DETROIT. L. C.
-—-OOO_-

FASHION.

 

Ever since reading Mary B.’s raid on
bustles I have been aching to “ have it out ”
with her, and I feel just like writing to the
HOUSEHOLD this afternoon, so thought I
would try my luck for once, and I shall be
only too happy if my letter escapes the
waste basket.

Have looked for Mary on the streets of
our city, for I’m sure I should know her if
she wore no bustle, and I have come to the
conclusion that she either wears something
very like one, or else she is too old to care
anything about fashion. If she be a young
lady I give her up; she must be eccentric,
but if so, I’ll warrant she does other equally
foolish things, such as wearing bangs, or
friizes, shingled hair, etc.

If she had simply spoken of the enormous
bustles worn by many of our town girls I
would have nothing to say, but when she
says wear none at all, I can’t agree with her.
I once read an article on fashion, and the
idea was that we should dress in such a
manner as to give a hint of the prevailing
fashion, but never go to the extremes,
and I think it very good advice on the sub-
ject. Ibelieve that when we are in Rome

  

we should do a little “as the Romans do,”
and not make of ourselves an oddity.

The present fashion of wearing the hair
in a “pug” at the back of the head is in
very poor taste, but we can wear it ina
neat little coil, and still be in the fashion
without making an object of ourselves.
The same with wearing the hair “birds-
nest,” as the girls call it; it can be done up
in a French twist a little loosely at the
neck, looks very well, does not hide the col-
lar, and we know at once it has been combed
at any rate.

I think it is every girl’s duty to study the
fashions and make the most of them, for
there is always a happy medium if we will
but lind it.

We real a person’s character, in a
measure, by their manner of dress. If we
see a girl rigged out in the very height of
fashion, with hair bagging do wn between
the shoulders, or at right angles with the
back of her head, wearing a bustle beginning
at the waist and ending at the bottom of the
skirt, and a dress pulled back till she can-
not sit with ease (I have seen persons who
would answer to this description), we nat-
urally conclude that she is “fast” or
“loud,” while another may make a very
different impression altogether, and not be
behind the times either.

Guess I’ll not say any more or I shall be
picked to pieces. If some of the city ladies
should read this they would have no mercy,
but this is a farmers’ paper, and we all
know that farmers, especially their wives
and daughters, are mostly sensible, and so
this will not hit them at all.

Yl’sinsxrl. MILDRED IONE.

__..._____
PRETTY THINGS FOR THE HOUSE.

To make a pretty ornament for a Christ—
mas tree, church fair, bazar, or for one’s
own room, take seven English walnuts,
coat them with the various tinted metallic
paints used in lustro-painting. In the
stem end of each walnut insert the blade of
a penknife far enough to allow the end of a
narrow ribbon to be slipped in, when the
shell will close on it, and the nut can be
suspended by the ribbon. Choose a dif-
ferent color for each nut, arrange them in
different lengths, and fasten together with
a bow of ribbon.

A pretty variation on the above is t
make six or seven little bags of different
colored satin, filled with cotton liberally
sprinkled with sachet powder. Fringe the
ends of the bags and tie with the narrow
No. 1 ribbon, as directed above, and group
in the same way. ‘

A pretty drape for a square table is made
by getting three-fourths of a' yard of dark
red cashmere, cutting it in two lengthwise,
and sewing the two pieces together to make
one long scarf. Hem both ends, and trim
them across with a band of yellow satin rib-
bon. Attach fancy balls, crescents, or
bangles for a border or trimming to each
end. Tie in the centre under a ribbon bow
which conceals the seam in the cashmere,
and arrange so that one end falls over the
front and the other over one end of a square
table. Pretty, simple and inexpensive.
“Gipsy kettles” to hold burnt matches
or any trifles on the etagere, are made of

 

three twigs, one bronzed, one gilded and

 

the third silvered, tied together at the top,
and a little pail, which can be bought for a
penny or two at any fancy store, suspended
from them.

A pretty favor for the german, or memen-
to of any occasion, is a miniature lawn
tennis, racquet and cap. A bit of reed is
bent into the required shape and laced with
blue embroidery silk, woven to form the
netting. A bag in the shape of a cap, only
longer, with pasteboard crown and fluffy
pompon, is to be filled with cream candy,
and when the candy has “served the pur-
pose of its being,” and been eaten, the
satin is pushed down and the little favor
pinned to my lady’s mirror asa trophy.

____...___

"THE ’WOMAN WHO FAILED."

The story under the above title which ap-

pears in the current issue of the Fxrxnnn.
is, I think, one of the best short stories
which has appeared in any of the magazines
of the year. Aside from its narrative and
the lesson it tells, it is a model of literary
style in that it has not a paragraph—hardly
a word—that one would willingly eliminate.
And the tale begins where most love stories
end, and takes us with the young couple
through something much more trying than
courtship—a life in which the prose of every
day predominates over the poetry. Poor
Molly had not counted upon the hundred
little daily acts of patience and self-denial,
and doing over and over again the small
duties that make up the sum of living. The
character of the ideal wife was far more dif-
ficult to live than to imagine. She lost
heart and courage, and then how hard the
way became, how rough the path! "When
I feel that you are happy and have faith in»
me, I am strong and full of courage. But
when you get blue and sad and hopeless, I
feel as if life wasn’t worth living.” Is not
this the feeling of every husband who loves
his wife? Then how necessary the wife
should keep “the blues” at a distance, and
be Irave and cheerful! Hepworth Dixon
said once: “That is what a man needs in
his wife—something to rest his heart on.
He has strife and opposition and struggle
in the world; at home he wants to find
sympathy and faith and encouragement.”
The desponding woman who lacks courage
to meet life’s trials bravely, lays a heavy
burden upon her husband’s shoulders; he
must bear the brunt of the conflict, and the
added weight of her repinings and re-
proaches.

I think that in all my reading, I never
came upon anything more suggestive of
thought upon the relations of husband and
wife, than the scene in “Middlemarch,”
where Lydgate, harrassed and burdened by
the galling pressure of his debts, lays his.
perplexities before Rosamond his wife and
asks her help; and is met by her neutral,
chilling rejoinder, “ What can I do, Ter-
tius?” Not the eager question of what
could she renounce, or by what action she
could aidto lighten his load, but the chilling
intimation, “ What can you expect of me;
it is not my concern.”

Lydgate and Rosamond have many pro-
totypes in real life. The girl marries for

the station, the money or the prestige it
will give her to be wife of a prosperous,

 

“ rising” man, with little conception of the-

 


  

 

T HE HOUSEHOLD.

 

higher duties of the relationship and less
wish to assume them. When the promis-
ing career is checked by disaster, and the
husband‘s heart longs for comfort and in.-
spiration, ho-v bitter to meet cold neutrality
or tearful reproaches! How disheartening
to find we have leaned upon a staff which
breaks when we most need it!

It is one of the saddest things in life
for a wife to lose faith in her husband; it
crushes both; it is the death-knell of affec-
tion. The wife’s faith upholds and
strengthens; its sustaining pjwer vivifies as
the touch of the earth renewed the strength
of the hero or‘ old mythology. Sometimes
we hear it said of a man that he has 10st
heart or is discouraged; and almost always
we rind the wife has lost faith in her hus-
band’s abilities and power to succeed. Only
a woman’s divine faith and courage stand
between many a weak man and his down-
fall.

Possibly George Eliot meant us to con-
trast Miry Garth’s steadfastness and be-
iet‘ in 'r-‘red Vincy with liosamond’s ex-
acting egoism, and utter want of sympathy
with Lydgate in either his troubles or his
aspirations. That each made the man who
loved her what he ultimately became, we
cannot deny. Even poor Mrs. Bulstrode,
rather snubbed by her husband in their
prosperity, bore a loyal heart in her timid
bosom, and would not forsake him in his
disgrace. " There is a forsaking which
still sits at the same board and lies on the
same couch with the forsaken soul, wither-
ing it the more by unloving proximity,”
says our author; and it is such spiritual
abandonment which is worse than literal
desertion.

That it is often a hard task for the
weaker nature to bear up against troubles
that bend man’s sterner fibre, there is no
doubt: yet it is woman’s opportunity to
show herself a true “helpmate.” Happy
the man who on a “Black Friday” in his
affairs has not to say, with Lydgate: “I
have married care; not help.”

BE ATRIX.
.__....__._
THE CHAUI‘AUQUA LITERARY AND
SCIENTIFIC CIRCLE.

Hand-books aul circulars are out de-
scribing the comiug year’s work in the C.
L. S. C. The studies this year have a
special interest, as they include United
States history, American literature and
American industries. The C. L. S. C. is
for everybody, high school and ‘ college
graduates and those who have never entered
a high school or college; for young, middle
aged and old people; for teachers, merchants
and mechanics. It is a four years’ course
of useful and pleasant reading, with a diplo-
ma at the end, and for those who can at-
tend Bay View Assembly, graduation
honors. The readings are done at home,
and all the readers in the place or commu-
nity hold weekly -or fortnightly meetings.
There are 3,500 members in Michigan, with
200 circles and 550 graduates. We have a
Michigan department, the only one in ex-
istance, and this year the three or four
hundred Chautauquans at. Bay View As-
sembly organized a Michigan Branch of the
C. L. S. 0., with headquarters at Bay View.
Henry Johnson, D. D., of Big Rapids, is

President; John M. Hall, of Flint, super-
intendent, and Miss Carrie E. Skillman, of
Mt. Clemens, Secretary. The C. L. S.
C. is one of the most useful and enjoyable
societies ever organized, and nothing better
can be formed in any place for the winter.
Write Mr. Hall and he will furnish circulars
giving information and helps.

FLINT. J. )I. H.
-——ooo—-—-

HOME TALKS.

 

A"). II.

 

I feel quite relieved that the greater share
of our trading is done; and our visit over
night at-your aunt Mira’s. What a splendid
home she has, but it has always been such

atrial to them that no little ones have ever '

been given to them. I most wonder some-
times that she does not adopt a child. How
cheerless and dreary a house seems that has
never had any children in iti "And a little
child shall lead them,” how true that is,
Hetty! I most think that there is a softer
spot in the heart of a woman that has tended
a little baby, than one who knows nothing
of one. Mira was the second girl in our
family. Joe was next to me. The year
after I was married she came to live with
me and went to school at the academy; then
she took music lessons too, for Father Vin-
cent had a Splendid piano, a large square
one; we traded it in toward your new up-
right one, the action was gone, and its the
way now-a-days to shove otf the old things
to make room for the new. Just think,
here we are talking away and you are run-
ning the machine, I never saw the like how
still it is; just the least bit of a hum to it.
You see by making the hem broad on one
end of the sheet, you will keep that for the
head of the bed, mine now are turned the
same width at both ends. This is a beauti-
ful piece of sheeting, there’s enough for
twelve pairs, we will cut off the pillow slips
ayard long, it is forty-eight inches wide,
there are thirty-two yards of that. Let’s
see, there won’t be but three tablecloths to
hem, the three others are fringed, quite an
idea, having them come in settswcloth,
napkins, doylies, all alike; one corn and
white, one red and white, one blue and
white, that’s real damask too~well, it ought
to be at the price. After all I’ve found the
best is the cheapest, and it isn’t every day
one buys table linen.

As I was saying, Mira took lessons of a
professor who had quite a class in the
village, and she took to music amazingly.
She was a bright scholar too, quite took the
lead in town among the young folks. Well,
she had been with us most four years, when
she met your uncle James, and it was an
out and out case of “love at first sight.”
Their courtship was not long, for he had no
parents; they had been dead a good many
years, he had a guardian, and at twenty-one
took possession of his property. Father
Vincent ga 7e her a. wedding outfit, clothes
and all. Mira had good common sense, a
good disposition and a handsome face.
Mother always said she was “ flower of the
flock.” Well, she went off to her city home
and the next winter you were born. What
a wee body you were to be sure, you only
weighed five pounds and a half, but you
grew fast and was a real healthy baby.

 

Father Vincent said you were worth your

 

weight in gold, and your father acted as
silly as could be, watching you when you
was asleep, and if you sort of smiled in
your sleep, he said that “the angels were
WhiSpering” to you; the nurse, who thouglit
she knew more about babies than he did,
said “ it was wind on your stomach.” Your
grandfather named you after John‘s mother,
and he set a deal of store by you, but when
you were two years old he died. He did
not seem to suffer much, but failed gradu-
ally, and he liked to have me real to him
and drive the horse when he rode out, and
he told me once, “Helen, you will never
lose anything by being so good to a lidgety
old man.” He finally took to his bed, and
when the leaves commenced to fall, he
faded away. I remember the afternoon so
well; you had been on the bed with him and
fell asleep. I put you in your crib and then
we had a nice long talk, his faculties were
good up to the very last, but he talked so
much about John’s mother, and he said it
would not be long before he should meet
her. I rubbed his hands softly and he
dropped asleep. Istole out of the room.
and when, I came back in an hour or txvo he
was dead, and such a happy look on his
face. It was just for all the world as if he
had met the wife of his youth. He had lost
all that tired, worn look, and it almost
seemed as if he had had a draught from the
fount of everlasting youth.

We’ll hemstitch those pillow slips. I used
to do all kinds of stitching, but am a little
out of practice, but will soon get my hand
in. Now about the comforters, you had
better have three of cheesecloth, and three
of worsted, this garnet will do nicely, make
both sides alike and tuft them with white
and red. I shall put four pounds in each.
How much better the batting is now, made
so wide; open it and it covers the whole
comforter. We will make four of calico.
You know that pile of new quilts in the
front chamber closet is your’s. There’s the
star and basket, Irish chain, album, and I
don’t know what all; there is one white
spread among them—it was on the front
chamber bed when 1 went to father Vin-
cent’s—-.\Iarseilles, it’s thick as a board and
yellow as saffron. Now the peach trees are
in blossom we‘ll get it down and bleach it.
That’s the time to bleach clothes; when the
peach trees are in blossom, they won’t mil-
dew. There are four pairs of linen sheets
that used to be mother’s. I will give you
two pairs; it don't seem as if they ever get
yellow like cotton. When we get around to
the comforters let’s ask in half a dozen
neighbors and get them all done at once.
We can get three frames, I guess, for they
all know around that you are going to be
married, well, well, let them talk, that’s all
right.

Tomorrow you must make yeast and
begin bread-making. Do youknow, Hetty,
there’s more poor bread-makers than good
ones. I could not help but notice it at our
socials last winter, and Mrs. Smithers says
that her flour is so black, and several com-
plained in the same way. I said nothing,
but made up my mind the fault wasn’t in
the flour, some folks can’t make good bread
because they don’t take any pains with it
You can’t stir it up by guess, and not half
bake it, and expect it to be catable. If I

 

 

   


4:

THE HOUSEHOLD.

  

 

 

was a man I would not eat such stuff. It
is the ruination of one‘s health, and is not
conducive to good nature: if the bread is
poor everything else is poor. and every-
body is cross-grained. Now I have got
bread-making down to a regular science,
and mind I shall make a good bread-maker
of you. It is most tea-time now. and I will
start up the fire. and you sift some flour and
try some baking-powder biscuits; now
measure three coffee cups heaped a little,
into this little pan now measure three teas-
poons of baking powder, into it a little
salt; here is some lard in the cupboard al-
'ready softened, a tablespoon of it; get the
pitcher of milk, your tins, cutter, rolling-pin
and bread board; new mix that thoroughly,
take the pitcher in your left hand and wet
it into a real soft dough, turn it out on the
board, get it in a smooth lump; that will
make just fifteen biscuits, don’t use any
more flour in rolling than you can help.
These look nice; they will bake in ten
minutes. While I set the table you can
see to the oven at the same time. R mem-
ber it is mire in baking anything than in
making it. The oven must not be so hot
that everything is burned top and bottom,
nor so cool that bread is all white and
doughy. This oven 1 will bet on every
time. I just think the Mills range is hard
to beat. Your father likes his bread and
biscuit a rich brown—almost acoifee brown;
he says it makes the inside sweeter. They
are done now, get a pan and spread a big
towelin, turn out carefully. I declare Hefty,
you’re beginning famously: baked just
alike top and bottom, and light as a cork.
Cover them ova, set them on the shelf
back of the stove. Here they come to sup-
per—yes, Harry is with them. Wonder
what brought him tonight, smelled these
nice biscuits and omelet. I guess, and feels
curious to know if you are learning to cook.
Tha ’5 just like all men, they generally
have an eye for good victuals.

BATTLE CREEK. EVANGELIXE.

———OOO——
THE CHILDREN’S MEALS.

I, too, say do not let the children eat
fruit and pickles and then drink milk. A
lady with a small child visited me this sum-
mer; I had cherries for tea and she let the
little one have all it wanted, and also what
milk it wanted to drink. I made the re-
mark, “1 should think it would make him
sick.” She replied: “ 0 no, I always let
him have what he wants,” but nevertheless
the little stomach was not strong enough
for the task imposed upon it, and up came
cherries and milk, both before she could get
him from the table. Such results don't al-
ways follow so quickly, but just so surely,
perhaps in a difierent way; he may spend a
restless night, and the next day we may
wonder what makes baby so cross. I think
agreat many stomachs are ruined by in—
judicions feeding; it they do not complain
in childhood, as they get older they will
have the sick headache or something of the
kind, for nature will retaliate in some way
if she has been abused. By letting children
run with a piece in their hands half the
time, they are never ready for a meal when
they come to the table, but want a little of
this or that; they don’t know what they do
want, their appetite has been spoiled by

their piecing. and their digestive organs
are weakened, as the stomach is allowed no
rest. Then the mother wonders what
makes the baby so puny and fretfnl, soon
she takes it to the doctor and gets some
medicine, but that will do no good unless
the diet is regulated.

Aftera child is three years old it does not,
as a general thing. need to eat between
meals; if it is hungry let it have, not later
than ten o'clock, a piece of bread and but-
ter, and it thought best put a little sugar or
jelly upon it: do not let it make a meal but
alunch, and you will see that it will not
find fault with its dinner. ‘

Another thing that I think people make a
great mistake in, is, as soon as a child has
eaten what dinner he wants. or thinks he
wants, to let him get down from the
table. Nine times out of ten he will want
to get back before the meal is through.
It is all a matter of habit, and 1 know by
experience that they are better ofi. I know
this is old advice, but it may help some
young mothers to bring up healthy children,
and health is what we are all look‘ng after,
but so few attain.

Will Anon please tell us the name and
price of her oil stove, and also if she can
heat irons fast enough for ironing, and
oblige x. Y. z.

BATTLE CREEK.

_._._...___

A \VEEK’S DINNERS.

 

Just for the novelty of it—to show our
readers how city folks live. I am going to
write out our boarding-house bill of fare for
a week, with a few hints on the cooking of
the several dishes:

ernav.——Tomato soup; roast veal with
sage dressing; cabbage slaw; celery; baked
sweet potatoes. For dessert, peach tapioca,
grapes and peaches.

The tomato soup was made of one dozen
ripe tomatoes; cook in one quart of water;
strain, and to the liquid add one pint of
rich milk, butter the size of an egg, and
salt to taste. The peach tapioca is made
by soaking a half teacupful of tapioca over
night in lukewarm water. Add boiling
water and let it simmer slowly on the back
of the range till clear and of a jelly-like
consistency, rather softer if anything. Put
a layer of tapioca on the bottom of a pnd-
ding-dish, then a layer of halves of peaches,
chosing those which are ripe and soft and
will cook quickly, more tapioca, more fruit
and so on till the dish is full. Bake till
done and serve with cream and sugar.

Moxnav.—-Rice soup; meat pie, mashed
potatoes, macaroni. For dessert, apple-pie
with grated cheese; Catawba and Niagara
grapes.

The rice soup is simply the ordinary
stock, with the addition of a handful of
rice, which must be thoroughly cooked.
The meat pie is the remains of Sunday's
roast, cut in slices, the gravy added, with a
little butter, pepper and salt; the crust is
the usual baking-powder biscuit dough.
There is no bottom crust; the meat, gravy,
and bits of dough cut off and added, are
put in a large basin, and covered with a
crust which will be an inch and a half
thick when done. Macaroni is a dish not
often seen on farmers" tables, yet it once

 

introduced, nearly every one becomes fond

of “the biled pipestems.” Cook half a
pound of macaroni in plenty of water,
letting it simmer gently. When tender,
drain off the water, add the yolks of five
eggs and whites of two, and half a pint of
cream; season with salt and white pepper,
and, if liked, three Spoonfuls of grated
cheese. Heat up, stirring constantly. put
ilto a buttered dish and steam an. hour’
setting in the oven long enough to let it
brown on top.
Truman—Boiled mutton with white
sauce; baked beef’s heart; boiled onions:
celery; potato snow. Dessert, cottage pud-
ding with lemon sauce.
The white sauce was no particular addi‘
tion to the mutton, which is better roastel
than boiled. The beef’s heart was stuffed
with a dressing of bread crumbs. The
potato snow was made by forcing nice
mealy boiled potatoes through a “patent
squeezer” which left them as if mashed
through a colander; they were then season-
ed with salt and a little cream. For a cot-
tage pudding take two eggs; one cup of
sugar; one tablespoonful of butter; half cup
of milk; one and a half cups of flour and
t m teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Sauce:
Yolks of two eggs; one cup sugar; half cup
of butter; tablespoonful of corn-starch-
Stir the sugar and butter till it creams, add
the eggs, and the juice and grated rind of a
lemon, stir in the corn-starch. Stir into it
three gills of boiling water, stirring con
siantly, and cook till it thickens a little.
WEDxnsnav.—\'ermicelli soup; corned
beef, mashed potatoes; boiled cabbage;
stewed tomatoes. Dessert, “peach cob-
bler.” There is nothing heré which is at
all novel, unless it be the dessert; why
“ cobbler” I know not, certainly there are
no suggestions of shoe-pegs and waxed
ends about it. A thick layer of halved
peaches is spread upon the bottom of a
baking—dish, and over it a biscuit dough
stirred with just enough flour to enable it to
be spread with a spoon. Bake till the crust
is done, and serve with cream and sugar.
(To be continued.)

___...__

THERE are many of our contributors
from whom we would be glad to hear again.
S. M. G., Huldah Perkins, J annette, all our
“Aunts,” including “Aunt Prudence,”
whom we would like to have tell us of other
“ foxes that spoil the tender vines;” “Susan
Nipper,” whose wlt is as nipping as her
name, and many others who have absented
themselves this summer. Let us " close up
the ranks” and devote some of these
lengthening October evenings to the
HOUSEHOLD.

____..,____
Contributed Recipes.

 

PICKLED Frans—Make a syrup of one
pint of vinegar and three pounds of sugar.
with a little unground mace added. Into this
put a few pears with the skins removed; when
boiled through take out and put in others un-
til the liquid is nearly all taken up. They
will keep in either crooks or cans. Peaches
can be treated in like manner.

Gasponr, N. Y. AUNT Bncca.

' BAKED Arenas—Select some good cooking
apples of equal size, pare and core without
dividing. dip into cold water, roll in powdered
white sugar, put into a tin with a little water.

 

and bake in a quick oven. ENGLISH.

a