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DETROIT, JUNE: 29. .1889.

 

 

THE H OUSEHOIAD-"Supplement.

 

 

THE CHILDREN.

 

The following lines have been widely
quoted and often attributed to Charles
Dickens, but were really written by Charles
M. Diekenson. editor of the Binghamton
Republican, while teaching at Haverstraw-
on-the- Hudson. '

When the lessons and tasks are all ended
And the school for the day is dismissed,
The little ones gather around me,
To bid me good—night and be kissed.
0, the little white arms that encircle
My neck in their tender embrace!
0, the smiles that are halos of Heaven,
shedding sunshine of love on my face!

And when they are gone I sit dreaming
Of my childhood too lovely to last—
Of joy that my heart will remember.
While it wakes to the pulse of the past;
Ere the world and its wickedness made me
A partner of sorrow and sin,
When the glory of God was about me,
And the glory of gladness within.

All my heart grows as weak a! a Woman’s,
And the fountain of feeling will flow,
When I think of the paths steep and stony,
Where the feet of the dear ones must go—
Of the mountains of Sin hanging o’er them,
Of the tempes'. of Fate blowing wild—
U, there’s nothing on earth half so holy
As the innocent heart of aehild!

They are idols of hearts and of households;
They are ange‘s of God in disguise;
His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses,
His glory still shines in their eyes;
Those truants from home and from Heaven—
They have made me more manly and mild;
And I know now how Jesus could liken
The kingdom of God to a child.

I ask not a life for the dear ones,
All radiant. as others have done,
But that life may have just enough shadow
To temper the glare of the sun:
I would pray God to guard them from evil,
But n’ry prayer would bound back to myself;
Ah! a seraph may pray for a sinner,
But a sinner must pray for himself.

The twig is so easily bended.
I have banished the rule and the rod,
1 have taught them the goodness of knowledge.
‘ They have taught me the goodness of God
My heart is a dungeon of darkness,
Where I shut them for breaking a rule;
My frown is sufficient correction:
My love is the law of the school.

I shall leave the old home in the autumn,
To traverse its threshold no more;
Ah! how I shall sigh for the dear ones,
That meet me each morn at the door;
I shall miss the “ good—nights” and the kisses,
And the gush of their innocent glee,
The groups of the green and the flowers
That are brought every morning to me.

I shall miss them at mom and at even,
Their song in the school and the street;
I shall miss the low hum of their voices,
And the tread of their delicate feet,
When the lessons of life are all ended,
And Death says, “ The school is dismissed !”
May the little om s gather around me,
To bid mo good-night and be kissed!

 

STRAWBERRY WEEK.

Between showers I dodged down to Death
born one Wednesday afternoon in the
height of the strawberry season, in response
to the invitation of Mr. and Mrs. A. B.
Gulley to visitgtheni. Dearborn is but half
an hour distant from Detroit by rail. and
almost before I knew it the brief journey
wasaccomplished. and I stepped from the
cars into Mr. (lulley’s curriz’ige for the ride
to their residence, two miles beyond the vile
luge. It was :1 charming day; there lmd
been ruin over night to lay the dust, and
the country in its livery'of myriad shades
of green was very beautiful. There is
nothing I enjoy much l‘etter than u ride
along a country road in summer, under
such conditions. There is such an infinite
variety of little things to charm and inter
est one. Whether it is the graceful aban—
don of a wild vine making its own way in
the world, the symmetrical form of a tree
outlined against the sky, a knot of wild
flowers tangled in the long grass, or a robin
rendering a few bars of his solo from his
swinging trapeze—I find pleasure and
beauty in it all.

We passed several handsome residences
with pleasant grounds, among them the
home of Mr. H. Haigh, and others whose
names I do not now recall; and soon ar-
rived at Mr. Grilley’s residence, which is
“the show place,” and justly, of the neigh-
borhood. In fact, I fancy one might travel
far before finding another farm home so
attractive in all its surroundings, and so
well kept up in every vay. Money can
build a fine house any day; what can only
be obtained by taste and skill, and the slow-
moving yet constant work of time, is the
beautiful lawns and hedges and Well-
shaped, stately trees which have been years
growing. The house is large and pleasant;
the carriage drive winds up to the vine—
hung porch, and around to unseen stables;
the emerald lawn slopes gently away on
the south and west, and is framed by
hedges of arbor vitm and honey locust, the
latter just making its young. yellow-green
growth. Directly in front of the house is
Mrs. Gulley’s rosery, where many beautiful
roses were in bloom, and a lot of young
plants coming on finely. Bugs and slugs
have dainty appetites; only the satiny text-
ure and delicate flavor of rose—leaves will
suit their epicurean tastes. These roses,
however, were quite free from insect posts
as shown by their healthy foliage, but the
rose-bug had just appeared. and when he
comes “he means business.” Mrs. Gulley

 

said the most successful way of handling
this pest she had as yet found was to knock
him off into a dish of hot water; not being
:1 Russian he doesn't like hot baths. Paris
green and London purple are ineffectual,
but I wonde' why the kerosene emulsion
would not be death to him i"

(m this lawn are growing some of the
most lwuulifully formed and symmetrical
evergreens l have ever seen. Their out-
lines are perfect: theyurceones of verdure.
" The art that doth mend nature “ has as
sistcd only by directing their growth: the
lower branches curve upward from the
ground so it seems as if the treex‘ might rock
on their central :Lxes, like :l conch shell 011
its rounded base. in :1 sunny spot in the

centre of the lawn is a large flower
bed. which originally was intended to

display the beauties of a number of varie<
ties of eoleus, but these being nipped by a
late frost, had been replaced by other
plants.

The history of this place. as Mr. Gnllcy
told it me as we walked about looking
at the growing crops, IS interesting and in-
structive as an example of intensive agri-
culture. When it came into his possession,
it was worn out—“ too poor to raise White
beans," he said. From that exhausted con
dition he has reclaimed it, till now its soil
is that of a mellow and fertile market gar-
den, producing large and profitable crops,
the idea being, said Mr. Gullcy, to produce
large crops of whatever promises to prove
most remunerativc. Originally uneven,
the grade had been slowly altered till its
surface is as level as a floor. I hardly
needed to ask if it were underdmined. the
fact. that all along the road the cornfields
had been nice duck-ponds and that. here
the cultivator was going, was proof; but I
was amazed on looking into the little
bricked-up well at which the drains con-
verged, to hear how fast the water was
rushing into it, and passing on to the little
stream which carries it away. Holstein
cattle are kept on the farm, and Winter
dairying is practiced. Old Ykema, shorn
of his horns, was led out for our inspection,
a splendid great fellow, agile in spite of his
bulk, and evidently of a frisky tempera-
ment as he attempted to play With Mr. 0r-
rin Gulley, who handles him fearlessly yet
with a certain stand-offishness, for Ykema
has not yet forgotten he once had horns.

There is a nice, well grown orchard on
the farm, grape vines, and abig strawberry
bed of Cumberland and Crescent. There
are a great many interesting things to be

old about the place, and the manner in

 


      
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
 
   
 
   
  
 
  
 
 
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
    
 
  
     
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
   
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
   

 

' throw heart and thought into the lives and

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

 

which it has been brought to its present
state of fertility and attractiveness, which
I have not space to write. It is enough to
say it is a beautiful home, which any man
might be proud to own, doubly so if in it
he sees the results of his own steadfastness
of purpose working to a definite end al-
ways held in view. A man can live and
make money even if his dooryard is a calf-
pasture and the only path to his house
leads to the back door; a tumble-down rail
fence may require less trimming than a
wall of living green, and the apple tree, be-
loved Of Galatea, will show its good will
by its generous bloom even if its trunk
leans like the tower of Pisa and the codling
moth pre—empts every apple. But he can-
not enjoy life as can the man who makes
his home beautiful with nature’s gifts Of
trees and flowers and fruits.

All too soon the pleasant afternoon came
to an end, and as the bells were ringing
seven I found myself again walking the
familiar city streets, feeling as if I needed
the big bunch Of roses I brought with me
to convince myself I had not been taking a
surreptitious “ forty winks.” How strange
it seems to us sometimes, to change our
ordinary env1ronments so completely, to

surroundings of others with such abandon,
and then return again to our own, to find
everything unchanged, and realize that
though we have seen and enjoyed so much,
we have been gone but a few hours!

And the next Saturday found me at
Ingleside, with our good A. L. L., spend-
ing a deliciously lazy day lounging on the
piazza, with a basket of strawberries with-
in reach, idly picking out the ripest and
largest “to put in my mouf.” Ingleside
is the paradise of the birds; they build in
the many trees about the place, secure from
the Sportsman’s gun and the predatory
small boy. A cat-bird took his stand in a
tree near by and kindly continued his solos
while I watched him through an opera
glass. He had asmany trills and roulades,
as many airs and graces as a prima donna.
He tiptoed up and down the ,branch. co-
quetted with an imaginary audience, flirted
his wings and gave his tail 3. saucy bob,

then sang

“ Like dripping water falling slow
Round mossy rocks in music rare . ”

His solo ended, as if overcome by diffi-
dence he flew to a branch a few feet away,
shook himself, fluttered his wings, rested
and looked about a moment, and then, as if
responding to a demand for an encore, very
deliberately resumed his former stage and
his song. And how he did sing! His
modest vest of quaker gray seemed almost
to burst with melody.

I wonder who it really was who said:
“ Doubtless God might have made a better
fruit than the strawberry,but doubtless He
never did!” I have heard it ascribed to
Douglas Jerrold, Dr. Johnson, Sidney
Smith, and one or two others who enjoyed
the good things Of life and crystallized them
into sparkling epigrams and brilliant bon
mots. What epicures some of those old
fellows were! “ Gluttons and wine-bib-
bers,” too. But they were good judges of

author of the above oft‘quoted saying, dip-
ping the strawberry of the period into his
glass of Chablis, holding it up to let the
light sparkle on the ruby flesh and pen-
dant amber drop, then popping it into his
mouthand under the inspiration of the
luscious mouthful, delivering as impromptu
the sentiment he had carefully elaborated
beforehand.

Why did I put “ Strawberry Week” at
the head of this rambling talk? If Mrs.
Gulley and A. L. L. ever report the on-
slaught upon the shortcake and the berries,
you will see the fitness of the title. But I
warn them the subject does not need and
will not bear the slightest exaggeration.

The truth is quite enough.
, BEATRIX.

—-—-—-—OOO—-——-—

ANOTHER WEEK'S PROGRAMME.

 

In the HOUSEHOLD of June 15th J. Snip
says she would like to have some of the
“less smart women give another week’s
history.” I would never think, no, not
even think Of being smart when Evange-
line is anywhere near. Beginning with
Saturday, I will tell you how we manage
our work so as to have it all done up in the
forenoon, for if there is anything I dislike
it is working every afternoon. Of course
where there is only one to do everything,
and a large family it is different. Our
family at present numbers five, but will be
six in two weeks until Sept. 1st. When
I say “ we” I mean the lady who acts as
housekeeper for my father.
Last night was showery and early this
morning I was awakened by an extra hard
shower. I thought to myself that as it was
rainy it wouldn’t be necessary to have
breakfast as early as usual; and had taken
one nap in which I dreamed of being on a
very slanting roof looking at towers in the
clouds. I was trying to think of a way
to get 011' the roof without falling when I
woke up and it was 5 o’clock, whereupon
I arose, dressed and proceeded to cook the
breakfast while Mary skimmed the milk for
calves. Breakfast consisted of fresh fish,
fried potatoes, bread and butter, dough-
nuts and coffee. The pet lamb having
been fed, I proceeded after breakfast to
feed, water and look after chickens, Of
which I have about ninety small ones.
While I have been doing this Mae washes
the dishes and attends to the dining-room,
while Mary goes to churning; I then did
the sweeping, dusting, bed—making, lamp-
cleaning and then am ready to go to baking.
I forgot to say that I kneaded the bread
the first thing after breakfast, and put it
where it would get light quick.
Before going to baking I went on an
errand to a neighbor’s and then went to
work in earnest. I baked two crusts for
cream pies, cream cookies, ginger cookies,
and bread and a steamed dried apple pud—
ding for dinner. Mae made the cake,
pared potatoes for dinner, mapped and
shortened a dress skirt. Mary took care
Of her butter, washed the milk dishes and
put a piece of ham boiling for dinner.
Did I say we had a small boy around?
He is a help and no mistake, for he

 

flavors, wit and beauty. I can fancy the

and cleaned out a mammoth flower bed in

good shape, and had an appetite for din-

ner. Dinner consisted of boiled ham,

fried fish, potatoes, bread, pickles, butter,

and the steamed pudding eaten with cream

and sugar. After dinner, dishes washed

by Mary, chickens taken care Of by my-
self and then we get ready to go and help
decorate the school house for the Children’s
Day exercises and to practice. All this is
done, and we are tired when we turn
towards town for the mail. It is late when
we reach home, but supper is ready and
chickens are to be fed and eggs gathered.
Also a hen and chicks to be cared for.
For supper we have cold ham, pickles,
bread, butter, apple sauce, and cream and
ginger cookies.

Father is taken with a hard chill on his
way home from town and goes to bed sick.
The bOy waters and grains his horse while
warm, whereupon I take the rest of the corn
away and march him (the horse) up and
down the yard for ten or fifteen minutes.
So ends the day by writing for the first
time to the HOUSEHOLD, while sitting up
to wait on the father.

M. E. 11., who knows but that we may
have acquaintances in common? I live only
eight miles from Albion. If this is not
tossed into the wastebasket, “ maybe ” I’ll

call again.

CONoonn. KETURAH.

 

A CLOUDY WEEK.

 

(Continued)

We slept half an hour later than usual
this (Thursday) morning, and I knew when
I woke that I should be just that far he-
hind my work all day. Somehow the only
ambition I have between the hours of four
and five A. M., is to get a few moments
more to sleep. After breakfast things were
in a dreadful snarl; I made Lou wash the
dishes, but more to break her in than any
thing else, for I don’t think much Of help
that has to stand on stools; then there was
the churning, the poultry tO attend to,
the children to get ready for school, and
in the midst of all the bread sponge threat-
ened to run over. I do think there is a
sort of contrary sense in dough, for it is
sure to stay down when you are in a hurry
for it to rise, and puff up in no time when
you can’t attend to it. Just as I was mold-
ing mine out this morning Simon run in
looking wild and told us old Speck was
chooking to death. There was a stampede
for the barn, and I followed as soon as I
could free my hands, but she was dead
when I got there, and Simon was scolding
Phil because he didn’t cut up her potatoes.
Seems to me nature might keep up a better
average. Last year potatoes were high,
scarce and about the size of hickory nuts;
and this year they are so plenty and cheap
they are fed to cattle, and large enough to
choke them tO death. I presume I should
have scolded Phil if Simon hadn’t, but as
it was I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.
and took his part. We can’t expect much
judgment from a boy Of his age. He
cried, and so did I a little, but I slipped a
good chunk of maple sugar into his dinner

 

l ” topped” the onions, washed the carriage

pail to soothe his feelings. They 3,11

‘

 

    


 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

   

 

3

 

wanted to stay at home to see Speck
skinned and buried, but I started them
for school, rather late, and looking rather
rough, for the trouble quite upset me, and
Ikept wondering What bad luck would

come next. Speck was one of our best
cows, averaged over a pound of buttera
day right along, and was related to the
cow father gave me when we were married.
It beats all 110w a man hates to let a woman
have the comfort of owning anything. I
have always claimed that that cow’s calves
ought to belong to me, and didn’t give it
up without considerable protest, and what
some people might call mild quarreling.
Simon got pretty mad one day, and said if
he should marry a dozen women he'd never
have another cow thrown in.

The man Simon hired yesterday came
before dinner, and a hard looking subject
he is. I don’t indorsc all A. H. J. says,
but I took her advice and gave him a
separate towel. He uses tobacco on the
outside as well as inside of his face, and
keeps his sleeves rolled up all the time. I
wish I could manage to have him roll them
down at meals, for I really can not relish
my food beside him. He is called a good
worker and help is scarce, so we hardly
dare take any chances of offending him,
but I can’t bear to think of having him in
the family all summer; with Phil too, just
the age to be influenced by everybody.

Well, I finished the ironing, and steamed
a big dish of rice for supper. That is one
of the dishes the children always sing out,
“ Goody! goody!” over; sometimes I
think because they eat all the sugar and
cream they want with it. We have been
hearing about the flood at J ohnstown, but
didn’t realize much about it till our paper
came to—day, full of the awful details.
Simon read them‘ to me this evening while
I mended, and I declare I can hardly sleep
for thinking about it. It seems wrong for
us to be so comfortable while we know of
such misery. I looked at the children
asleep, and felt glad to know that whatever
evil befell them they were safe from floods.
Hunt pond, the only water hereabouts, is
a mile away and most dried up.

(To be continued.) _

_.___...——__

THE FIFTH “ WEEK."

 

Evangeline’s “Week" has created quite
a sensation among the HOUSEHOLD readers,
judging from appearances; some have
passed quite severe criticism and expressed
doubts as to how so much could be accom-
plished. I, for one, was very much inter-
ested in the article and think it all possible,
if, as one has said, she is healthy, has good
help and every convenience to do her work.
All"I envy Evangeline is the good things
she had to eat.

If one finds it a duty to work, some of
the time might as well be put in in cooking,
So as to give your better-half dyspepsia
and think you will not be the only one
worn out. As to adding to household cares

feeding calves, tending garden, etc., I think
that is more than woman’s work.
I have never contributed to the columns

    

 

of the HOUSEHOLD, but will try and give
my experience for a week. If the bill
of fare is not very elaborate, according to
my experience and observation it is about
the average for farmers in general.

I will begin with Saturday. There have
been nearly two weeks of almost steady
rain and we ha 76 fallen into the habit of
taking an extra nap. This morning is no
exception, so it is six o’clock before any
one is stirring. By the time chores are
done breakfast is ready; it consists of baked
potatoes, warm biscuits, coffee, cookies,
jelly, fried pork:(freshen, dip in milk. put
in a hot spider, fry quick, turn often); and
sugar syrup—the head of the house has a
sweet tooth and thinks this one of the es
sentials to a meal. Milk for two calves is
skimmed and put warming for the “ small
boy" to make use of after breakfast, and
milk strained. Dishes done, cookies are
made by this rule: One egg. two cups
sugar, one cup cream, one of butter, half
teaspoonful of soda and pinch of salt, nut-
meg. Picplant and custard pics are made,
bread sponged (salt-rising), butter worked.
sweeping done, beds made; bread is made
into four leaves and twenty-five rolls; take
a piece of dough, shorten, roll thin, cut
same as for biscuit; put a little piece of
butter on each and fold edges together;
they are light and baked in time to cool a
little for dinner, and every one disappears.
Three sheep—shearers appear, which makes
eight for dinner. as our family numbers five
and a baby.

For dinner we have mashed potatoes,
ham. butter gravy, butter, rolls, apple jelly,
pear pickles, cookies, pieplant pie and cof-
fee. Dishes are again washed, things put
in order, layer cake with cream filling
made; then we sweep, dust and arrange
parlor bedroom after company.

Supper at six, consisting of new bread,
butter, custard pie, cream cake, cocoanut
cake, canned huckleberries, tea and sweet
cider. Still raining. After supper the
sheep are finished, work done up, milk
skimmed and strained; in the evening all
take a turn in addingthe number of pounus
of wool and finding an average weight,
which proves to be nearly eight and one-
half pounds per head. '

Sunday morning; cloudy, with frequent
dashes of rain. Breakfast is prepared:
baked potatoes, pork, milk gravy, cookies,
bread, jelly and coffee. The work is hur-
ried up, for we intend going to church, as
it is “ Children‘s Day," but it looks so rainy
until nearly time to go that only part of
the family venture. The exercises are very
nice. They take dinner with a friend
and do not return till afternoon; the rest
take a short ride and make a call. The
FARMER is brought and contents of the
HOUSEHOLD eagerly perused. Hickory
nuts and walnuts, with reading, pass away
the evening until ten o'clock.

Monday. For breakfast; potatoes, ham,
bread, pie, cookies, syrup, coffee. Looks
very rainy, and as everything seems at
“ odds and ends" conclude not to wash,
something quite unusual. The work done
up, butter is worked and packed, beds
made, chambers swept and dusted, churn-

 

ing done, pie baked, two-quart can of pie-
plant stewed. and bird cleaned.

Dinner: ham, mashed potatoes, jelly,
warm biscuit, syrup, radishes, pieplant pie,
tea. Dishes washed; bouquets for parlor
made, one of peeonies and one of pansies;
then all go to town, butter and eggs car-
ried, groceries and other necessaries pur-
chased and we return. One cannot always
suit their own convenience about some
things. Bread has to be baked. The music
teacher arrives and the “small boy” is
“put through” for an hour. School will
soon be out, then there will be more time
for practice.

Supper is ready; bread, dried beef, cream
layer cake, huckleberries, fried potatoes,
tea. Dishes done, eleven chickens are
caught and cooped; milk taken care of.
The Youth’s Companion is read aloud and
some. patching done.

Tuesday’s breakfast is warmed potatoes,
fried pork, bread, coffee, spiced currants,
cookies. When the morning’s work is out
of the way we go at the washing, which
proves uncommonly large; a pie is made.
Any one acquainted with babies knows
they are not always good when most want-
ed to be, so it is twelve o’clock before the
clothes are all on the line. Dinner consists
of ham, boiled potatoes, custard pie, pork
cake, bread, pickled pears, tea. After din-
ner. while rocking the baby to sleep, I read
a story and indulge in a short nap. Work
done up, some of the clothes are folded and
an attack made on the ironing, when com-
pany comes, a young lady friend, who
stays to tea. The time is short but is pleas-
antly spent. Supper at six; warmed pota~
toes, radishes, dried beef, bread, cookies,
jelly, huckleberries, fruit cake, tea. Com-
pany leaves soon after. Supper work
done. and the remainder of the clothes are
folded and sprinkled. A new paper comes,
the news is looked over, and I help about.
the music lesson.

Wednesday. Feel a “little old” but
know there must be something to eat.
Baked potatoes, pork. radishes, coffee, pie,
bread and jelly make up the breakfast.
Work is hurried up to commence ironing;
pies are made. Dinner; mashed potatoes,
new pieplant pie, pork, spiced currants,
bread, poached eggs, tea. After dinner a
plain cake is made, ironing finished, butter
packed, and a letter written. Supper; pie-
plant sauce, bread, huckleberry pie, cake,
warmed potatoes, tea. We all attend a lec-
ture in‘the evening.

It Is rather late Thursday morning before
we are up. Prepare a breakfast of warmed
potatoes, pork, bread, pie, cucumber pick-
les, fruit cookies. After breakfast, bread
is baked, churning done, pieplant stewed,
house put in order; a caller came in during
the time. For dinner, boiled potatoes,
pork, rolls, radishes, creamed rice pudding;
cream pie made: yolks of three eggs, white
of one, cup sugar, teaspoonful lemon, two
of vinegar; bake; take the two whites beat-
en, as much sugar as desired, put on the
pie and set in the oven to dry, but not
brown; it is delicious. Two Chemises are
cut out and a little Gretchen dress, a little
done at a Mother Hubbard nightdress, the


r‘ ”5"" a ‘

 

 

 

4

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

 

yoke had been embroidered with a cluster
of water-lilies. We do not find very much
time now for fancy work. Supper consists
of new bread, warmed potatoes, cream pie,
cold pudding, dried beef, pieplant sauce,
tea. After tea we drive to town.

Breakfast Friday morning consists of
baked potatoes, meat, bread, spiced cur-
rauts, sponge cake, fruit cookies, coffee.
Beans are looked over and put to soak.
dishes done, cookies baked. lamps filled
and cleaned, bread pudding stirred up,
cracker pie made as follows: Five crackers.
cup sugar, cup hot water, half teaspoonful
tartaric acid, cinnamon. Bill of fare for
dinner: Baked potatoes, pork, beans, bread
pudding, pic, bread, new, sweet apple pick-
les. After dinner a caller. Butter is
packed, some nails bronzed for pinning
back curtains. machine work on a little
waist is done and the skirt to a dress made.

There is a commotion heard: the men
have come up and want supper immediate
1y. Everything has to “ whew " for a few
minutes, and supper is hurried on the table.
Bread, syrup, cookies. cracker pie, cold
pudding. beans, lettuce with sugar and
vinegar. Just as we sit down a friend
comes in and an extra plate is added.

I think J. Snip‘s request for “some less
smart woman's history” is fulfilled, for I
find the work, as compared with Evanges
line’s, is “ b‘autifully less.” Vex.

Luann.

_——...———_

PET ECONOMIES.

 

Our llocsnnoLo is a source of pleasure
and profit to its readers. It is so eminently
practical that there is no trouble to put its
precepts into practice.

There are, however, a large number who
would find obstacles in the way of im-
proving the plainest directions given by
some of our most notable writers.

Imperious want, dire privation, smother
the desire and ambition of many to follow
out the tempting descriptions given of
good, toothsome fare. A famous recipe
for a much vaunted dish begins: “First
catch your hare.” New, I am sure there
are many so unfortunate that to catch the
hare is beyond their means, and they may
have to substitute—well, chicken. It does
not follow that a home need be unhappy
because sparely furnished, or the table
plainly supplied. So that actual destitution
does not prevail, (and even that is a relative
term) the home may be happy if health,
heart and hope dwell there. My pet
economy in theory and practice has ever
been to make the most and best of availa-
ble resources. So friends, I would say if
you have not the chance of the hare, or yet
of the chicken, don’t lose your heads plan-
ning how you would cook the one or the
other if you had it; but give close attention
to the “pork and taters,” and vary the
dishes possible with these, and such simple
adjuncts as you may possess.

If you cannot afford to have dish towels
of crash or damask, just wipe your dishes
on any clean rag you may possess, and
watch that the dishcloth is clean too; no
matter if there is color in either, so that it

 

is not washing out to dye the water or
dishes. If you are hurried with work of
greater importance, it is no sin if you use
them without hemming.

Then don’t use up every spare moment
of your life in “fancy fixin’s,” whether it
be piecing quilts, knitting or crocheting
fancy pieces, or crazy silk stitching. Or
further, in tucks, rufiles and furbelows on
the little folks’ clothing. I know the last
is a great temptation, for the little blessings
do look “so cute” in them, but save your-
self for their sakes. If one has leisure,
then I have no word of condemnation for
any of these employments. It is true
economy to use up pieces left of clothing
made up in the family, but where time is
money or more than that, health, they
should be used in large patterns, it“ at all.
l’riut, Scrim and challi are very cheap, and
spreads are cheaper than patchwork.

I have no fault to find with the ragcar-

pet. It seems to till an aching void in a,
farm house. If it costs more to make

than one could be bought for, it' Well
made its wearing qualities discount such
considerations.

Some of our sisters have so many ways of
using dry bread, I sometimes think I have
made a mistake in always having made it a
study to avoid having any, or at least to
keep the amount to a minimum quantity.
I like good bread, and with care it can be
kept several days without being dry. It
is well understood in our family that a
slice will be cut when wanted, rather than
to leave one to dry.

I have seen pork fried until there was
nothing left but scraps. They were brittle,
but tasteless, unless left swimming in the
drippings, when they were disgusting. I
speak in the plural, for to me it was no
longer pork, but scraps. Of course, if peo-
ple like such cooking it is their business,
but if they are so “ desput fond of scraps,”
as the story goes, they might find a golden
store in saving the scraps after rendering
the lard. If any one, wedded to the be-
lief that such cooking takes off the greasy
taste of pork, will once try the plan of
cooking it quickly over a brisk tire, giving
it constant care till it is well cooked
through, neither burned or dried, then
taken at once from the fat and served, I
think they will find a sweet, juicy morsel,
as different from the greasy chips referred
to, as good light bread is difierent from
that so overhastened that it is “too firm ”
for teeth or stomach.

To those who might wonder how I ever
get along without dry bread, I would say
I find rolled crackers answer well for
crumb use; and that pancakes and pud-
dings can be made nicely with flour. If I
had aloaf of bread too long on hand, I
would dip it in water, put it in a brisk
oven ten or fifteen minutes, just long
enough to heat through; thus renewing it,
rather than go through the slower process
of converting it into new forms.

I am no advocate of “ fancy dry goods
box furniture," but where chairs are few,
small boxes, cheaply covered, make pre-
sentable ottomans, and a lounge could be
made of one of suitable size.

Ineusmn. A. L. I4.

 

A FLORAL LETTER.

The Fraxinclla (Dieter/mus) is,1 think, a
plant well deserving the care it requires in
cultivation, which is not much when the
plants are once well established. The roots
are exceedingly hardy, and although a
herbaceous plant the stalks are woody and
strong, never requiring support of any
kind. It blooms the first of June and the
flowers remain fresh a month or more,
exhaling a refreshing aromatic odor like
pine, agreeable to most people. I have no
perennial plant that attracts equal atten-
tion from visitors, as it is very showy in
bloom. of fine, upright form, the flow-
ers being in large racemes, striped and
shaded red or purple on white. The
Fraxinella has always been considered a
botanical Wonder, because of its gaseous
exhalations. If the plant is covered
awhile and a match lighted near it the gas
will start into flame readily. All florists
find the seeds of Fraxinella very hard to
germinate: no method has yet been dis-
covered to hasten germination: six months
or a year is required for the seed to sprout.
But we learn to wait for so many of our
aims and hopes to be realized, that this is
only a trifling delay, and patience in
waiting and repeating attempts are. some of
the salutary lessons 1 nu‘ned in tloriculturc.
Sow the seed in some out of the 'ivay cor-
ner and turn over them an old tin dish
with the bottom partly out, this will help
to hold moisture. If seed is sown this
month or next it will be up and doing
next spring, and will grow strong and
healthy ever after, with no trouble from
insect pests.

After so fair and early a start in spring
weather, it is rather discouraging at present
to be dampened and chilled to the bone as
“June, sweet June” is playing us this
year, and if it continues some of the choice
seeds hurried into the ground may never
show up. However, seeds of perennials as
a rule are slow in germinating, no matter
what sort or variety they may be, but are
well worth all expense or delay in the
flowers they bestow in early spring before
the annuals are above ground, and are just
in time for Memorial Day to combine with
flowers from shrubs and late bulbs.

I am not usually tardy and never re~
luctant in answering questions addressed
to me, but although this letter was seaSon-
ably commenccd, I found myself in a

-tangle of obstacles in shape of spring gar-

dening and city visitors. I will now say to
Beth that there are varieties of Cactus that
do Well in partial shade, as Epiphgllum
or ()puntm varieties, securing them from
damage by sun or strong Winds. Choice,
well grown Specimens I would hesitate to
trust to the outdoor changes of sun and
storm. The 10th of June is as early as
tender things like Cactus. Tuberosc or
Tigridia should be transplanted.

I am wondering today why pzeonies only
of all the floral tribe should possess fra-
grance like the rose. I have a number
that do; one, a dark rOSe colored, semi-
doublc, that could not be detected with
eyes shut. 'l‘hese Chinese varieties are so
different from the old style red With sleepy
odor, which Were highly prized before we
knew the dainty T (Inuifulz'w with single and
double flowers, and others too numerous to
mention, but exceedingly sweet and beauti-
ful. Mas. M. A. FULLER.

WON.