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DETROIT, JULY

27. 1859.

 
THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 
A HUMAN PIN.

 
Oh, I know a certain woman who is reckoned
with the good,

But she ﬁlls me with more terror than a raging
lion would.

The little chills run up and down my spine
whene’er we meet,

Though she seems agentle creature and she‘s
very trim and neat.

And she has a thousand virtues and not one
acknowledged sin,

But she is the so.t of person you could liken to
a pin,

And she pricks you, and she sticks you, in a way
that can’t be said—

Wheu you seek for what has hurt you, why, you
can not ﬁnd the head.

But she ﬁlls you with discomfort and exasper-
atiug pain—

If any body asks you why you really can‘t ex-
plain.

A pin is such a tiny thing—of that there is no
doubt—

Yet when it's sticking in your ﬂesh, you’re
w:etched till it‘s out.

She is wonderfully observing—when she meets
a pretty girl,

She is always sure to tell her if her “bang" is out
of curl.

And she is so sympathetic; to her friend, who’s
much admired,

She is often 1 eard remarking, “Dear, you look
so worn and fired 1”

She is a careful critic, for on yesterday she e5 ed

The new dress I was airing with a woman’s
natural pride;

And she said, “Oh, how becoming!” and then
softly adde’, “It

Is really a misfortune that the basque is such a
ﬁt.”

Then she said, “if you had heazd ire yester-eve,
I’m sure, my friend,

You would say I am a champion who knows
how to defend.”

And she left me with the feeling—most un-
pleasant, I aver—

That the whole world would despise me if it
had not been for her.

Whenever I encounter her, in sucha nameless
way,

She gives me the impression I am at my worst
that day.

And the hat that was imported (and that cost
me half a sonnet,

With just one glance from her round eyes be-
comes a Bowery bonnet.

She is always bright and smiling, sharp and
shining for a thrust—

Use does not seem to blunt her point, nor does
she gather rust—

Ohl I wish some hapless specimen of mankind
would, begin

To tidy up the world for me by picking up the
pin. —£lla Wheeler Wilcox.

—-—“.—-—

OUR DAILY BREAD.

 
I know there are a great many people
in the world who think it makes no par-
ticular difference what one eats, if only

  
hunger is satisﬁed. But the fact remains'

that diet makes a very great difference in
one very important particular, and that is
our health. A wise man says “Whatever
was the father of a disease, an ill diet was
the mother.” I think even more than half
the responsibility ought to be laid upon
the diet, for nothing else has so direct and
vital an inﬂuence upon the health. Black-
more, inthe “Maid of Sker,” says: “ Peo-
ple forget how much the body outweighs
the mind, being meant, of course to do so,
getting more food, as it does, and able to
enjoy it more by reason of less daintiness.”
The health of body and incidentally of
mind—since mental conditions are greatly
inﬂuenced by physical—is maintained by
the purity of that wonderful river ﬂowing
through veins and arteries, permeating
every portion of our bodies, and its purity
depends almost entirely upon the activity
of the stomach in transmuting food into
the proper form for absorption into the
circulation. The food we eat is relished
better, assimilated more completely and
hence proves more nutritious, builds up
bone and muscle more perfectly, if it is
appetizing and appetizingly spread before
us. To be appetizing, it must be varied.
I have known people—very sensible people
in other respects—Who insisted that it makes
no earthly difference what you had for
dinner yesterday since you are just as hun-
gry to-day, and hence justiﬁed themselves
in preparing the simplest food at hand,
which chanced to be pork, potatoes and
bread—they were not going to spend their
lives cooking. But yesterday’s dinner does
make a difference. We may trace to-day’s
headache to it, or it may be the source of
to—day’s strength and energy. The Home-
Maker, in an article on cheap living in
cities, says: “Health is so valuable, so
dependent on what we eat and drink, that
it is ﬁfty times better the windows should
grow dim and the carpets be unswept
than that anything connected with the
food should be neglected. Yet how rarely
a woman lets such work go undone! The
keeping up of appearances has much to do
with this, or had much to do with forming
the habit of thought leading to the feeling
that the house must be kept spick and
span, but the meals can be hurried up.
‘ The stomach has no windows,’ but it is a
mistake to think it' does not bear witness
to its ill-usage.”

We all like good things to eat. Even
the lazy woman who hates work, and the
intellectual one who believes she has a soul

 
above cooking, are alike susceptible to the

soothing inﬂuence of a good meal—espec»
ially if some one else prepares it. And the:
men, bless them! we know there‘s no surer
way to bring them into subjection than t0«
feed them well. Fanny Fern made herself
immortal by putting this truth into terse-.—
form: “ The surest way to a man’s heart.
is via his stomach.” Did not Becky Sharp»
convince her eminently respectable brother--
iu-law that she was all a woman ought to.
be when she prepared that salmi of my
Lord Steyue’s partridges for him? Did not;
the children of Israel prefer Egypt’s leeks.
and onions and bondage, to freedom with-
out their favorite vegetables? Did they;
not tire of quail on toast and even of
heavenly manna? Are not these good
historic arguments in favor of a variedi
diet?

Food is more to man than the satisfaction;
of hunger; it is so much, in fact, that it:
determines national as well as individual}
position. The food of an extinct race is a.
sure guide to its degree of civilization; the
food of a living race has much to do with,
its status among its neighbor nations. I
saw it stated recently, with logic to prove:
the statement, that the present unhappy
condition of the Irish peasantry can be-
traced to their dependence upon the potato»
as a food. The ease with which it is raised,
and its cheapness, have made it their prin—-
cipal article of diet; but it is an imperfect},
food, hence bodies and brains are wanting
in vigor, and the people are unambitious;
and unaspiring.

Some housekeepers get into a rut. They
have cooked in a certain way so long that:
it would take a domestic earthquake to.
rout them out of it. If they do try a.
new way or a new dish, it is only for a few
times and they drop back upon the old pro—
gramme, from sheer force of habit. The:
ﬁrst year the HOUSEHOLD was published in
its present form, E. S. B., then residing;
at Brighton, furnished us her formula for-
making bread. A few tried it at ﬁrst, and:
reported such success that others followed-
their example. I think it safe to estimate
that that recipe was tested in 500 families,
at the very lowest calculation; and ,it has.
twice been republished by request. Now,._
as a matter of curiosity, it would be it»
teresting to know how many of those whm
professed their satisfaction at the delicions~
1y light, white, sweet loaves—I know; I’ve:
eaten E. S. B.’s bread—still follow her
method. How many have “backslidden”
and are conducting bread-making on the
old lines? I’ve a “real sweet” Sunday
bonnet this summer, I’d dreadfully hate to

 
THE HOUSEHOLD.

 
"lose it, but I’m willing to venture it on the
--chance Of ﬁnding ten out of the ﬁve hun-
' dred who, after these ﬁve years, are mak-
ing bread by that recipe. That is the dis-
- couraging part of one’s work—to ﬁnd the
~ effort to introduce the better ways in cook-
ing and house—keeping, continuous and
assiduous as it may be, met by calm per-
' sistence in old fashions, not because new
methods do not yield better results, are not
« as economical, but simply because of the
~-effort necessary to overcome the inertia
~ of habit. Mrs. Blank may be always
’ asked to make the biscuit or the chicken
_pie for the socials and the picnics, “be-
-cause she “always has such good luc ,”
but who thinks of asking her methods with
. a view to equalling her results?
I don’t blame women for getting tired of
Lcooking, not one bit. It is hard work,
monotonous work, unless one can ﬁnd an
interest in it through trying improvements
and experiments; often thankless work
'when excellence meets no word of praise
rand a failure is sharply criticised. And
when one works so hard to prepare a meal
that she has no appetite for it when it comes
on the table, she is very apt to think she
don’t care, but will limit her exertions to
the preparation of that she knows how to
get quickest and easiest. And it is hard to
make bricks without straw, or get up good
.meals easily Without a garden and small
‘fruits. We should have better and healthier
‘living if men would raise an acre less of
v corn and wheat and put the culture on the
quarter-acre garden spot. It is a great en-
» couragement to a woman to know she has
r. got something on hand to work with; it
strengthens her ambition to prepare good
‘ food. And she needs the knowledge that
'9 her work is essential to the well—being of
. ~l.cr family to keep her up; most of all she
5 needs the words of praise and appreciation
which are so dear to her, and which so
~"f'lighten her toil and inspire her with am-
whition. Don’t forget to speak them.
BEATRIX.

—-—”—-—-—-

" CHILDREN AND HOME.

 
"Whatever may have been the day’s
~ Offence make it up, I beg of you, before
\bedtime, and don’t reserve that hour for

reproof or correction. After the “ Now I
lay me” by lisping tongues, seal the
sleepy lips with a good night kiss, and let
the little ones carry with them into dream-
} land the consciousness of a mother’s love.
3 The time will come all too soon when they
P ‘will be matured by care; let them have a
sweet-memory of childhood to cherish in
I future years, a memory which no bitter-
IK mess of after life can rob them of. What-
' ever you do, do not punish any sin by re-
fusing the good night kiss. Train your
children early to know what is right and
what is wrong; you cannot commence too
.« soon. Some ﬁnd out the secret too late;
; those are wise who teach their offspring the

'- 3' lwson early in life when they yield easy.
We ought to enjoy the heaven to be
' \' .‘found about our own ﬁreside; we ought to
5“ help to make it more beautiful, and teach
‘ our children that home is a haven of rest
‘--...and quiet. Something or somebody is

wrong if home is not the synonym for
happiness. Who but a mother can pene-
trate the inner life of her child, can meet
its demands and needs? A true mother’s
life is almost entirely devoted to her
family. When the children are grown to
manhood and womanhood they still‘speak
of a mother’s love. Ten years ago we laid
our mother in her grave: she is gone but
not forgotten; that mother’s inﬂuence
still lives. The most commonplace things
she said have become beautiful. Are we
to leave such inﬂuence? Not our mother
alone, but all who read this and some who
still have mothers; some will be mothers
and leave their inﬂuence. To be is more
than to seem to be; solid wood is better
than veneering.

Children must be kept healthy, and how
is this to be done? When a baby is restless
and cries, don’t walk the ﬂoor and give all
kinds of medicine. Some mothers as soon
as a baby begins to cry say it is hungry, or
it has the colic, or it did not have a good
nap, or they don’t know what. Some
babies are tired to death by being carried
around. Take an eight months’ babe and
trot it and toss it and carry it around and
feed it every twenty minutes, and of course
it will cry. Feed 3 child regularly eve
two hours; its little stomachfcannot wor
all the while. Do not give too much; use‘a
little common sense, or you may kill the
child by not knowing how to take care of
it. Let the little one lie in the crib part of
the time; change its position and let it rest
practice laying it on the bed and it will en-
joy it, and go to sleep alone much better
than to be handled all the tlme. These
little bodies are tender.

Don’t think being kind to children
is to let them do as they please.
Govern them by love. In some cases it
is better to spare not the rod; they will
think more of you in after life and
thank you for it. A mother has the
greatest lesson to learn, and how much
better we are from having advice nowfand
then from the HOUSEHOLD and the ex-
perience of others. The “ Cloudy Week”
has done us all good; we enjoyed it, for
lockers on see the best of the game. It is such
a blessing to meet with really true lives.

PORTLAND. MRS. S.

_—..._——

TEE MISADVENTURES OF THE
3— FAMILY.

 
(Continued)

I see I entirely forgot to give our culinary
programme in the letter I sent to the
HOUSEHOLD last week. I ought to have
put it in, for we had an unusually good
dinner that day. One of our neighbors
sent me a mess of string beans, and Bruno
brought home a beefsteak from town
where he went in the morning to sell his
wool. There’s one thing about Bruno
that I do admire, he is as honest as the day
is long, so far as his business is concerned.
I may think he is not fair always about
money in the family, but I know perfectly
well that he proceeds on the time honored
theory that the‘man of the famﬂy has a

 
right to the proceeds of everything on the
farmandtodisburseitas seems ﬁt inhis

 
eyes. He was telling at the table about a
man in the south part of the town who
had brought in a load of wool just ahead of
him, and the dealer had found some stuﬁed
ﬂeeces; and saying how ashamed he should
have felt in that man’s shoes, and how
proud he felt when Mr. told him to
unload and get weighed and bring up his,
checks to be cashed at the bank. “And
by Jinks!” he said, “he never looked at
my load, only asked me if the wool run
like it did last year. Wasn’t I glad the
load was all straight when he trusted me
like that! And he paid me within half a
cent of what Jim Jones got, and he’s got
the best wool of anybody in the town. But
I guess Jim’s a leetle unreliable in putting
it up; anyhow he looked it over pretty
sharp.”

- Dinner didn’t go begging; I never owned
a gridiron or a broiler, but I cooked the
steak the way the HOUSEHOLD said once,
in a hot spider, turning it Often. We like
the gravy as well as the meat, almost, so I
dipped a few spoonfuls of thick sweet
cream on the big platter, and a big lump of
butter, and set it in the oven while I cooked
the steak. A little water in the spider,
after the meat was out, took up the browned
juices and was turned over the meat as it
lay in its bath of cream and butter. I’d
made a cherry pie; and I couldn’t help
wishing the minister and his wife had
happened in to dinner that day instead of
last week, when we hadn’t anything but
fried pork for meat and boiled rice for
dessert. But that’s the way things gen-
erally happen—outside of books.

 
It’s always been a grievance to me that
we never have a decent garden. For a year
or two after we began housekeeping we
had a tolerable one near the house. I
worked in it the most, but sometimes I
could comer Bruno into hoeing a couple of
hours after tea, or after a shower. Then he
got it into his head that it would be better
to have the garden in the ﬁeld where he
could plow things out with the cultivator,
and since then we have had very poor
luck. The beans get past stringing, and
the cucumbers go to seed before I know it,
sometimes, and it is no small chore to lug
a pail—full of gherkins for pickles—when I
happen to strike them right—or a basket
of early potatoes back to the house across
lots and over afence, maybe. I get a good
many “ cricks ” doing it. It is too wet to
go mornings till the sun gets up and it is
hot, besides I always have something to do
forenoons; and at nightI have to change
my dress to make myself ﬁt for the walk
through the dew, and ﬁght mesa uitoes
while I pick them. Last year I dug up
a place in the yard, on the south side of a
fence, and ﬁxed up a rough sort of cold
frame out of some boards and old sash, and
had some lettuce and radishes. I sowed
the lettuce too thick and didn’t thin it
enough, so the leaves were small and thick
on the ground, and it wasa job to pick
enough for a mess, but it was real tender
and fresh.

I am often at my wits’ ends to know what
to cook in summer when we have hired
men. Bruno scolded once because when
we were going to have threshers I bough

 
THE HOUSEHOLD.

3

 
’half a bushel of onions and two cabbages;
said we could raise such things cheaper
than we could buy them. I reminded him
of that next spring when I wanted to order
a dollar’s worth of garden seeds from
Gregory instead of buying from the stock
at the grocery, and he said we could buy
them cheaper than we could raise them.
Between the two, our table sees mighty
few vegetables. I lived a year in the city
- once, with Aunt Mate, and I remember we
,began eating lettuce in February, and by
the time folks in the country were making
garden we would not touch either it or
radishes. And it was so easy to cook! We
»did not buy the ﬁrst of everything that
-came, when it was high-priced, but waited
till it was plenty and cheap, and I never
lived so well in my life. ,
Sometimes I get discouraged. Seems as
if all I was working for was board and
clothes, and mighty plain and poor at that.
I’d like to take the good things as I go
:along, instead of saving up to enjoy myself
in some future I may not live to see. I
don’t believe in making up arrearages in
that way. There’s Uncle‘ Smith, used to
live just as we do, only worse. I don’t sup~
pose that for forty years he owned a decent
:suit of clothes, and the boys used to say if
they could only get him into a cornﬁeld
'there was never any danger of crows. His
wife used to wear the most doleful bon~
nets in the meeting-house, and the children
all left the farm, except the second boy (and
he’s a chip of the old block), as soon as they
tcould run away. The old man has got
lots of money now and needn’t do a stroke
of work, but he can’t eat because he’s got no
teeth and he will not have store ones be-
cause they cost so much, and he don’t
relish his victuals, and complains so about
'Marta’s extravagance (Marta is his son’s
wife) that she went home once and vowed
she’d never go back as long as he was in the
house. If that’s what saving up for a rainy
day makes of a man, I’ll take my good of
things as they go, and get sprinkled if it’s
«necessary.
(To be continued.)

———..._

‘THE RIGHT OF THE WIFE TO THE
FAMILY PURSE.

 
Although never before a contributor to
tour much prized HOUSEHOLD—Which I
have carefully ﬁled for reference—I am
now tempted to add my mite to the com-
mon store, by the experiences of “ Simon’s
Wife,” so quaintly told. It does us all
, good to have a glimpse beneath the surface
of that most intricate and complex of ﬁne
arts, housekeeping, or more properly, home-
making. The plaintive exclamation “It
beats all how a man hates to let a woman
have the comfort of owning anything,”
awakens a sad memory in the history of
most wives. I have in mind a wife who
when a teacher in her girlhood had an ideal
'of what a home should be, and by per-
severing industry, coupled with self-denial,
. succeeded in saving from her scant earnings

, enough to buy plain furniture, which,
. added to the bedding and carpets which she
.-made, furnished the little house very taste-
..ully—“ real city style ” the neighbors said.

 
She had also 80 acres of land, cows, and
some tools. Imagine her feelings when the
husband tells her, as he often does, that he
“ never had any help,” that what she con-
tributed to the common store was “ nothing
at all,” he “would have been better 011'
without it,” etc.

But this case is only one of many. If
men could only know the humiliation‘ and
distress caused the wife by the universal
custom of considering her-however hard
she may work—a pensioner on the bounty
of the husband, there would certainly be a
change for the better. But how can they
know? If the wife could take control of
the pocketbook for only one week and dole
out to the husband as grudgingly as he
does to her the pittance which she receives,
it would be an object lesson which I think
would not require repetition. The wife
is usually the more careful of the two never
to overdraw the pocketbook.

The war emancipated 4,000,000 of blacks
and double that number of women to a
degree, as it opened avenues of self-support
before unknown to them. The age is
slowly tending towards the completion of
their freedom, instituting industrial schools,
which will make skilled laborers of a part
at least, of the vast army of working-women
who have had no opportunity of learning
to do anything well, excepting perhaps
millinerv and dress-making.

The ﬁnancial emancipation of women is
more and more enlisting the thought of
philanthropists and reformers. A woman
cannot be in any true sense independent
until she is inacondition to make her work
an equivalent for her support. While
most housekeepers, especially farmers’
wives, do not receive in clothing more than
a fraction of what their services would
bring in wages, still the husband counts as
a gift and nearly as bad as wasted the
money which the countless wants of the
family require. One of the causes of this
feeling is the utter ignorance of the average
young man in regard to what it is to sup-
port a family. By close economy he can
nearly support himself before marriage,
and he reasons that “it is a poor wife that
cannot help some.” He has in mind only
his own wants, and when he ﬁnds that it
costs nearly twice as much to support two
—minus the tobacco, beer and base-ball bills
which appear to him to be necessary lux-
uries. and may be offset by an occasional
concert or festival on her part, which of
course he must attend also—he is sadly
disappointed and irritated. If there could
be some preparatory training for the pros-
pective husband whereby he could learn
something of the obligations and responsi-
bilities he is assuming at marriage,

" It wad frae mony an error free him,
And foolish notion.”

When the watchword of the different
labor organizations, “ Equal pay for equal
work ” shall prevail, and woman side by
side with man in the shop—when her
strength will permit—as well as in the
counting-room, the store and the profes-
sions, shall have the same liberty of choice
and adaptation, then and only then shall

Jshe be free indeed. And when to the

equality of vocations shall be added

 
equality of citizenship, the husband will
cease to look upon the wife as a life-long
minor—only a child of larger growth—and
learn to respect her for what she is, and for
what she does as equal partner in his joys
as well as sorrows. Then will come to the
tried wife and mother a surcease from one
of the most trying difﬁculties which sur~
round her, and a value will be set upon
her work commensurate with its import-
ance. What an heritage of all that is
noble and true awaits the generations to
come, when the wife and mother shall be
unbound! What freedom of will, what
strength of character and what vantage
ground for the conﬂict of life will the child
have when the mother has come to her
kingdom! For it is still true that “the
son of the bond woman shall not be heir
with the son of the free woman.” The
repression of the mother means thralldom
for the child. LILLA LEE.

IONIA.
————.o.____

ANOTHER WEEK’S PROGRAMME.
(Continued from July 13th.)

Tuesday comes, bringing its usual work,
and breakfast of pork, freshened and fried
brown after being rolled in flour, potatoes
warmed in milk and butter, eggs, bread,
butter, ginger cakes, and coffee. Mae at-
tends to the sweeping and bedroom work,
and after kneading the bread and caring
for outside pets, the dishes are washed and
dining-room put in order. Mae has by this
time ﬁnished her work and commences the
ironing, while I prepare the vegetables for
dinner. Our plans for dinner are changed
a little by our meat-man not putting in an
appearance. Two markets send out
wagons and both go out on the same day,
but the one never stops since the other
began to go over his road. So we are left
without fresh meat to help us out.

The ironing is ﬁnished by dinner time ,
bread and cake for pudding are baked
and dinner is ready at twelve. But half
an hour elapses before the men come to
dinner and I am almost ready to scold a
little. I remember however that it would
do no good and only be a waste of time and
breath. They are all hungry, and ham ,
potatoes, peas, lettuce, bread, butter, cot-
tage pudding and tea disappear as if by
magic. Dinner over, the dishes are hur-
ried and we are soon ready to pick cherries,
which are half a mile from the house.
We ride up with the men on the hay wagon,
and are soon discussing the question of
“Where can the ladder be placed so as to
get the greatest number of cherries.” Mae
don’t like to climb and so I mount the
1m and begin picking, expecting to
fall every minute. The feeling wears off
the longer I stay there and the faster the
pail ﬁlls up, and by the time our four pails
are ﬁlled I would not mind climbing on t
upon the topmost branch.

By the time we are home we are only too
glad to sit down and rest a few minutes
and then get ready for supper. Cold ham ,
peas warmed up, onions, bread, butter ,
apple sauce and feather cake make the bill
of fare for that meal; after which the work
is done up and we are ready to read, sew

 
4:

'I‘HE

HOTJSEHOLD.

 
or do whatever we like best. Mae, Karl,
John and David indulge in a game of
croquet, and Mary and I sit outside watch-
ing the game. The mosquitos are so thick
and saucy that we soon go in, leaving the
players to ﬁght them as long as they please.
By half past nine all are asleep, and I am
sure Mae and I are dreaming of ladders
and cherries.

Wednesday we realize that cherry pick
ing in earnest begins, and so with the in-
tention of picking some in the forenoon we
soon do up our morning work, and then
the pails of cherries that we picked the
day before stare us in the face, and so we
sit down and begin pitting them. The
juice ﬂies into our eyes and over our dresses,
and we wish a dozen times that every
cherry on the trees was picked, pitted and
canned. Mary gets the dinner, of pork,
potatoes with milk gravy, beet greens,
bread, butter, tea and cherry pie.

Dinner over and the work again ﬁnished,
we leave Mary at home canning cherries
while we go after some more. We suc-
ceed in getting into the wagon without
attracting the pet lamb’s attention, but we
are unlucky enough to say something and
hearing my voice he starts after us, and
nothing we do makes him go back. Be-
hind and in front he runs like any dog,
and when we get out our pleasure begins.
We can't have him in the orchard with us
as there is wheat there, and he would have
his nose in the pails all the time. All
afternoon I have to call to that lamb, to
keep him from going too near the potatoes
in the next ﬁeld. So “ Simon, where are
you? Come back here” is all I say during
the time we are up there. Simon answers,
but by night I am in possession of a ﬁne
bass voice.

We made a ﬁne procession when we
started back at night, ﬁrst Mae, then a
long stick with the pails hanging from it
which we carry between us, she having a
pail in the other hand, and I with a water
jug in one hand. Behind us came Simon
with his head down, for the sun made him
about as warm and tired as any lamb
would wish to be. Old dresses, big sun-
bonnets, and old gloves completed our
suits, and I am sure if any of our “ city
friends” could have seen us they would
have laughed.

Supper, cold meat, bread, butter, pear
sauce, cake, tea and also cold greens, is all
ready, and so the day ends by the work
being “ done up” and croquet as the night
before.

Bugs are picked off the cucumber vines
and the plants watered, and I feel tired
enough to fall asleep as soon as I touch the

bed. V
(To be continued.)

_—-—...—-—-——I

H. says there is an error in her recipe for
graham bread in the HOUSEHOLD of July
6th. The rule should read four cups of
sour milk, and two teaspoonfuls of soda.
Our correspondents should be careful to
see that their recipes are correctly written
out before sending them in. Proof is al-
ways read carefully by copy, but we can-

not correct the directions if they are not
right.

 
FRUIT FOR FARMERS.

 
In the HOUSEHOLD of July 6th L. C.
wishes others to give their opinions in re-
gard to the bill of fare for farmers’ tables.

I do not think she is correct in her state.
ment that farmers in general “ restrict
themselves to apples, potatoes and pork as
their principal—Often only—fruit, veget-
able and mea .” In regard to the ﬁrst
especially I think most farmers are quite
well supplied. It is so easy to raise berries
and grapes that they are learning their
value. I do not know whether I have a
greater variety Of fruit than most of our
farmers’ wives or not, but this year I have
had, or shall ha are later in the season, judg-
ing from present prospects, strawberries,
raspberries, cherries, currants, huckle-
berries, blackberries, grapes, pears, peaches
and apples, most of them in such quanti-
ties that I can use all I wish fresh, and after
canning allI care for, have some left for
those less favored.

I think this is the result of having a bus-
band who loves fruit and is willing to do
the work necessary to provide it. I believe
if children, especially, ate more fresh fruit
there would be fewer doctor’s bills.

I wish to thank Beatrix for the very
helpful suggestions about dress. I ﬁnd a
new idea in every HOUSEHOLD that is of

practical use to me. NELLE.
NORVELL.

 
DOWN WITH THE CORSET!

 
I think it was A. H. J. who wrote some
time ago against the corset, and I wish to
say that I heartily agree with her. The
corset is an abomination, in my Opinion at
least. I never had a corset and never in-
tend to have one, unless my waist gets to
be a wrinkle, as M. E. H. says, which I
sincerely hope will not happen, for it would
almost kill me if I had to persecute myself
by wearing one. Allowme to relate my ex-
perience in wearing a corset. One evening
last winter I had been invited to a party;
I wished to wear a silk dress, and thought
I would try wearing one of my sister’s
corsets to make it ﬁt better. So I thought
to myself, “ I will wear it to school so as to
get used to it.” Well, I wore it, and made
myself sick in the great exertion of trying
to feel comfortable, when I felt as though
I was surrounded by a board. The ﬁrst
thing I did when I reached home was to
march straight up stairs to my room and
take off that detestable corset. And yet

that corset was loose, and some of the

whalebones had been pulled out. I never
wish to repeat that experience, for the re-
membrance of the racking headache and
the nausea, and the feeling that all my in-
ternal organs were at war with each other,
convinced me that the corset is an evil we
should guard against.

All who have read “Eight Cousins,”
written by Miss Alcott, will remember
what Uncle Alex said in the eighteenth
chapter, when Aunt Clara was trying to
get Rose to wear one. He said that the
bones in our own bodies were enough to
support us without having whalebones
around us. There is no need to wear cor-

sets. Have underwaists that ﬁt well, and
starch them; then have steels on the seams.
of your dresses, and you will hardly ever‘
meet a person who could tell the difference.
And oh! how much more comfortable you
will be! I have met many persons who.-
would be surprised when I told them I
did not wear a corset; they would say that
my dresses ﬁt just as well as though I had-
one on.

M. E. H. cannot see why steels in the
seams of dresses are not just as bad as cor-
sets. Here is the reason why: Corsets are
stiﬂf all over, and you cannot move natur-
ally with one on; while the steels are only
on the seams, are short, and will give when
you move. I never ﬁnd them any hind-
rance in moving, and they prevent -the'
dress from wrinkling. Among my ac-
quaintances I ﬁnd quite a number who do
not wear corsets, and I cannot see but they
are just as graceful as those who do, and
how much better off they are! I am with
A. H. J. in downing the corsets, and will.
always say all that I can to prevent young.
girls from beginning to wear them.

PINE LAKE. JESSIE.

__—”———

USE no water in making jams and spicedz
fruits. Cook the fruit in its own juices.
Too much sugar is better than not enough-
After the sugar is in, almost continual
stirring is necessary until the jamﬁis done.

W—

Useiul Recipes.

 
PICKLED CUCUMBERS.—Secure good, ﬁrm...
fresh cucumbers, wash and wipe them, and
put them in a brine of two pounds of salt to a
gallon of water. Keep them in this a couple
of weeks. stirring them up every’ few days.
Put them into fresh water for a day, and they
are ready for the vinegar, which should be
strong; pure cider vinegar is best. If prac—
ticable wipe them dry before putting in the
vinegar; if not, let them drain till they are
dry. To one gallon of vinegar add a teacupful,
I*of sugar, three dozen peppercorns, two tea-
spoonfuls of whole cloves, one of allspice and
a dozen blades of mace. Boil these in the
vinegar ﬁve minutes, then pour over the cu-A
cumbers while scalding hot, and cover them,
After thrte days heat the vinegar and pour
on again: repeat this twice at intervals
of three days. The pickles are ready for the
table in a month, but are better when three
months Old.

MIXED PICKLES.—TWO hundred small cu—
cumbers, six large, green peppers (take out
the seeds and cut up fine), three large heads
of cabbage, three of cauliﬂower. cut up nice-
ly, ten sliced onions, la few roots of horse-
radish, cut up fine; two quarts of green string
beans out twice in two, or three quarts of
green tomatoes sliced—cover with common
salt twenty-four hours. Then drain thorough-
ly several hours. To this add half a pound of
black and white mustard seed mixed, a tea-
spoonful of black pepper: heat vinegar
enough to cover the pickles and pour on hot,
and let stand three or four days; then pour 01]:
the vinegar and heat again and pour on
pickles and let them remain a week. Pour oi!
the vinegar at the expiration of the week and.
throw away. Heat new vinegar and pour on.
When cold add grated hor seradlsh, from one
to two cupfuls, if you wish. Cover with horse-e

 
radish leaves and a plate. Tie up securely.