.‘I\\Ll;\\\\\\\\° ‘H

 

-

-' . :v .
g ¥< \\_;&\'\'\\\\..\'._1
,

\i
<\\\\

\

\

M14,

  
   

   
   

 

 

DETROIT, JUNE 15, 1886.

 

TIE-IE HOU§EHOLD===Supplement.

 

SUB ROSA.

 

Told " under the rose ” mav mean under the thorn,
For both are by nature united,

Don’t part with your secret, 'tis sure to go wrong,
A counsel quite frequently slighted.

Safe locked in thy bosom, ’tis wholly thine own,
The prize of a single possessor:

While whispered, it travels like thistle-down blown
Paying tax to Scandal's assessor.

Till growing apace, like the avalanche fleet,
Or the tide of some turbulent flood,

Your rose fines a thorn in some populous street,
As the freshet finds drift-wood and mud.

Then pause ere you part with what new is your
own,
Lest your trust prove a lasting regret;
A secret revealed, like an evil weed sown,
Bears a harVest one day to be met.

The only two people to whom I confess
And feel safe—are the blind and the dumb;
What the sightless sees he is welcome to guess,
And the speechless I know will keep mum.

There are those to whom I confidingly tell
What I wish should most widely take wing;
For their tireless tongues are the crier’s own bell,
With a touch of the scorpion’s sting.

Old maids, we are told, have a talent that way,
And the tea—party guests get their share;

But compared with the men I venture to say,
Such refinement of malice is rare.

Tis when the long winter grows heavy and chill,
And the he-gossips sit round the fire,
That Scandal herself might be sated. and thrill
With a laudable zeal to retire .

When, with faces long-drawn, they most know-
ingly shake
Their wise heads o’er their neighbor’s affairs,
As they wonder how Smith that contract could
take,
Dr Brown buy the clothes that he wears.
A close corporation of libel and lies,
See them sit round the box stove, and spin
Like some cunning old spider with curious eyes,
The foul web where they tangle and sting.

So I’ll e’en take my chance at party or drum,
Let each woman's tongue wag as it will;
But the Lord help the man whose record should
come
To the jury of counter and till.

I might ’scape frem the quilting, the busiest bee

Where the church circle lovingly meet;

1 But may fortune avert the scandal from me,

That is talked by the men on the street.

—Ool. 0. Douglas Brewerton.
'—-————ooo—-
INVITATIONS.

Did you ever think how much of the
ease with which an invitation is accepted
or declined, comes from the manner in
which it is given? How easily the lips
syllable “ No; thank you!” in response to
a hesitating, reluctant invitation, which
comes as if extorted by necessity, or be-
cause it is expected; how promptly assent

 

is given to 'a cordial, hearty bidding
which seems to come from the heart,
and is couched in the language of insis-
tence! An invitation which implies your
assent, to which you have hardly to say
yes, since it is taken for granted that
answer will be given, has something
very compelling about it. One is car-
ried along. as it were, by the impulse
and confidence of the other. “Come”
carries assent with it; “will you,”1m' —
plies _the possibility of a negative.
‘Come ” is almost irresistible when
seconded by example. More than once I
have heard the invitation given at the
door of the saloon, “Come and take
something,”—noted the heartiness; not
“will you,” "happy to have you,” but
“Come,” in confident expectation—and
wished that invitations to other places,
where young men might receive blessing
instead of bane, were given with half the
zest and cordiality.

“He who asks timidly, invites denial,”
and this is true of other things than in-
vitations. Here is a hint for the young
men. Do not ask too confidently, as if
it were impossible for your invitation to
be refused, but with words and in a tone
which render assent easier than denial.
Not a little depends upon the phrasing of
an invitation. “ Don’t you want to go
to Blank’s lecture? asked a young man
of his “best girl.” “ I should like to go
very much ;” was the answer. But when
the youth, who had considered the above
an invitation and an acceptance, called
for the young lady on the evening of the
lecture, he found she had gone with an-
other. When, weeks afterward, his ire

had abated somewhat from a white heat, '

and he asked an explanation, he learned
something about giving invitations,
which presunably he never forgot. To
take too much for granted stirs a girl’s
pride; she does not like her acceptance
to be taken as a matter of course. On
the other hand. if the invitation is given
carelessly, as if it made no particular
diiference whether she said yes or no,
she is apt to be piqued into saying no,
not to be outdone in indifference. Make
your invitations clear and definite; a
young lady likes to know' what is ex-
pected of her, and just when and where
she is going.

Many invitations are mere formal ex—
pressions of courtesy, and mean nothing
except good will and kindly feeling.
“ Come and see me some time ” needs but
the reply "Thanks, awfully,” if you
wish to be “real English,” or a simple

 

”Thank you,” if you are content to be
plain American. for the giver of such an
invitation, though friendly in feeling,
voices no particular desire for a visit.
The Irishman who said to his friend:
“An' Pat, if ye iver come widin foive
miles 0’ my house, I hope ye’ll stop and
stay there," was more sincere in his
asking, though unfortunate in his phra~
seology. Comical contretemps some-
times occur through the careless, offhand
manner of giving invitations in which
the thoughtless indulge, which is really
the outcome of saying what you do not
mean for politeness‘s sake, and with the
idea of pleasing. When an invitation
given in this fashion is accepted in good
faith, to the discomfiture of the giver, the
latter is entitled to no sympathy. Peo-
ple off on a tour make casual acquain‘
tances, pleasant for the nonce, and help
each other pass the time without the
conventionality which obtains under
other circumstances; but “in society ”
these casual friendships, born of the
surroundings, do not hold when the
participants return to their home circle;
that is, such acquaintance does not im—
ply recognition—other than the cus-
tomary courtesy of greeting—thereafter,
unless both have been so mutually
pleased that by common consent the
acquaintance is continued. And this is
socially wise, though at first thought it
may seem snobbish; for every social
circle creates itself by a subtle recogni.
tion of affinities of character, and the
only real friendship lies in appreciation
of kindred qualities.

More and more “our best society ” is
dispensing with the giving of promiscu—
ous invitations, and asking only those who
are congenial and whom they desire to.
know better. In some circles verbal invita-
tions are never given. Calls are made ac-
cording to established etiquette, and closer
acquaintance comes only through formal,
written invitations to dinner, to lunch, to
tea. Women meet in the various chan-
nels which unite them with a common
interest, as do men in their business re-
lations, with the utmost good will and
friendliness toward each other, but with-
out giving or expecting invitations to
more intimate relations. Once, to part
without repeated invitations to “Do come
and see me soon; come to spend the day,”
etc., etc., was to give mortal offense; now
the best of friends part with a simple
“Good bye” and no thought given the
omission. “Visiting,” in the old mean-
ing of the word, is going out of fashion

 

 


2

THE HOUSEHOLD

 

very rapidly. There are too many de-
mands upon the time and strength of the
majority of women to warrant them in
wasting precious moments‘in profitless
gossip; and generally, unless we meet for
some specific purpose, it is gossip which
engrosses us. Perhaps this cessation of a
certain promiscuous hospitality which
went under the name of sociability and
friendship, indicates a growing self-con-
centration indicative of what is termed
“exclusiveness ” but it is quite as safe to
suppose that people are learning to make
better use of their time, and when they
have leisure or desire for social compan—
ionship, are seeking it in channels most
congenial and sympathetic. I am in-
clined to take it as a favorable symptom
of the advancement of women that the
call and the formal invitation are replac—
ing the old take your-knitting work-and-
spend the-afternoon visit. The call.
emblematic of good will and recognition
of an existent tie; the formal invitation,
showing the principle of “the survival of
the fittest”—the selection of the most
harmonious and sympathetic-extending
into our social relationships.
BEATRIX.

RECONSTRUCTION.

 

I am afraid if I do not write at once
that I shall be in danger of being forgot-
ten as one of the members of the HOUSE-
HOLD band; so here I am, but I bring
nothing new. “ Grandmother” stated
my case exactly a few weeks ago, for I
often think of subjectsI would like to
have discussed, but the neglect to make a
note of them at the time leaves me with a
mind which seems a total blank when I
sit down, pencil in hand, to improve a
few chance minutes.

I felt rather saddened by E. L. Nye’s
last letter from her “ Homeoin-the-Hills,”
but was cheered again upon seeing her
letter last week. May she live long and
write much for the HOUSEHOLD.

I can sympathize with S. M. G , for my
poetry, too, “was born without speech;"
but invariably with the return of spring
comes the poetic feeling so strong within
me, that my common sense all but fails to
resist the strain. It is no wonder to me
that there are so many spring poets, and
as they are perfectly harmless, why
should they be so ruthlessly persecuted?

I stepped down from the clouds rather
suddenly though a few weeks since into
pandemonium itself. It was found upon
examination that the family purse was
equal to the expense of some much need-
ed improvements in the interior of the
house, so for nearly two weeks I have
been an interested locker-on while doors
and windows changed places as if by
magic, and my kitchen took a leap to the
other side of the house, though it still
has an east window; I looked out for that.
Many are the “oh’s” and many the laughs
as some heedless one attempts to go
down cellar where we now go up—stairs,
‘ or opens the pantry door only to find
himself in the kitchen, and all those steps
taken for nothing. Not aroom in the
house remains untouched, and confusion
reigns supreme; but the present discom-

fort is willingly endured, knowing the
comfort that is to be in the future. I
have not read the HOUSEHOLD all these
years for nothing, and I have it to thank
for many ideas which are now put into
use. I have all the conveniences men—
tioned by J annette, and have acted upon
more than one of I. F. N.’s suggestions.
A cistern pump in my kitchen is no
new convenience, but to go down
collar or into the pantry without
traveling all the way across two rooms is
decidedly new. I have a wood—box like
El See’s, whichI shall enjoy as long as I
stay in-doors, but as the wood-house is
not to be built until next spring, it will
for the present give the house the appear-
ance of having a wen.

I find the clothes- pin apron and the box
or scouring knives great conveniences,
for both of which I have to thank the
HOUSEHOLD members. Oh, yes! and
there are E. S. B.’s bread, and E. L.
Nye’s coffee, so I enthusiastically exclaim:
Long live the HOUSEHOLD and its mem-

bers! L. B. P.
ARKADA.
——...—_—— .

“ MASHING.”

 

Of all the silly notions that from
time to time find lodgment in the brain
of the “girl of the period,” the prevailing
one that she is “making a mash " on
every trowsered specimen with whom
she comes in contact. is one of the most
baneful. It is degrading in sound and
sense, making a girl’s thoughts run in a
channel that lowers her womanhood, and
gives her tongue a familiarity with coarse,
if not vulgar expressions.

The “masher” and ”mashee" are to
be found in either sex, and are at all
times a nuisance to meet. The male
masher is too often not only an addle—
pate, but worse, a wicked or designing
fellow, laying plans not only to make a
fool of a girl, but to lure her to ruin and
disgrace. The female masher is generally
a vain, empty-headed girl, who, with an
exaggerated idea of her own accomplish-
ments or personal attractions, is sure
every man she meets must be “ struck”
and “ dead in love " with her. With the
belief constantly in her mind, she is on
the watch for such developments, and
her airs and graces are wonderful to be-
hold.

This constant thought and study warp
her judgment, make her unmindful and
careless of the proprieties, reckless of
the consequences, and, too often, fit her
to fall a ready victim to designing per~
sons. She is ready to meet the advances
of comparative strangers; always in fancy
reveling in the triumph of conquest, she
sets the most ordinary civilities down as
acts of devotion, and makes herself su-
premely ridiculous in the eyes of the world;
and too often subjects herself to the
private sneers or open scofiing of the
man she believes her admiring lover.

The'present seems to offer too great free-
dom of intercourse between young people.
The girl who respects herself is the one
who will be respected. The girl who al—
lows every slight acquaintance to accost
her with the insulting “ ah—there ” with-

 

    

 

out rebuke, will be the one who will be
invited to meet him for a walk at late
hours, or to accompany him to question-
able places; she will find herself treated
in an off-hand, free-and-easy manner, the
reverse of respectful, and will discover
her influence is waning in the company
of another who is more reserved and dig-
nified. “Mashing” may be innocent, butit
is certainly very silly. A. L L.

INGLESIDE.
W—

RUGS.

 

I am inclined to believe that a home-
made rug is a snare and a delusion in the
majority of cases. I have seen a few
which iustified by results the labor and
time expended on their construction. A
rug which is so “ slimsy ” that it will not
keep its proper place on the floor, but is
forever being kicked up under one’s feet,
is a nuisance; like the tidy which clings
to your shoulders when you leave your
chair, it is “matter out of place.” Yet I
know some women whose genius seems
to run to rugs, and whose carpets arebe—
sprinkled with patches which are con-
stantly needing to be smoothed out and
patted down. A rug which will not of its
own weight hold its proper position, is
seldom worth the trouble of making; its
only excuse for existence is its usefulness;
if it crumples under your feet like a rag,
where is the good of it?

Rugs at the door, under the piano or
organ, before the fire, are often needed to
save wear of the carpet. How shall we
make them? If you ask me to answer
this question, I shall say we will not
make one so elaborate in pattern and la—
bor that when it is done it is too fine for
use, and we want to make another “to
save it.” We will consult the “fitness of
things,” too. A rag rug on anice Brussels
carpet is incongruous: it suits the rag

-carpet and the painted floor much better.

A rug whose colors are too glaring has
the effect of a patch upon a carpet. A
woman’s labor must be worth little if she
can afiord the time necessary for the con-
struction of most of the home-made rugs,
for which directions are given in the do-
mestic departments of various papers.
The most useful variety of the genus
rug, species home—made, which has come
under my observation, is the braided or
crocheted one, made of heavy woolen
rags in subdued colors, of a hit-and-miss
pattern. They are substantial enough to
keep their place on the floor, and not too
fine to he stepped on.

This subject reminds me that I have
recently seen an advertisement offering
materials and pattern for making a
Smyrna rug for $6. Now don’t you be
deluded into sending for such an outfit.
A Smyrna rug, larger than the advertise—
ment names, quite as substantial, and as
handsome as one need ask for, can be
bought in this city for $4; a saving of the
entire labor of making and $2 in cash.
One of these Smyrna rugs has been in
constant use in my room in a very trying
position—right before the looking-glass—
for nearly three years. and though some—-
what worn is good for a couple of years
more. They can be bought at from $2.50

 

  

avgaQERZSESE

.miuAMdofl


 

THE HOLISEHOLD 3

 

for the smallest size, up to $7 and $8 for
one six feet long and four feet wide; and
if you need a rug they are just the thing.

Several years ago some ladies of my
acquaintance in this city made very pretty
table covers of pieces of furniture cover-
ings which they obtained of the uphol—
sterers. The pieces, consisting of bits of
raw silk, plush, velvet, rep and other
goods used to cover parlor suites and
chairs, were sewed together with no at-
tempt at a pattern, but wherever they
would fit and harmonize best. The
seams were carefully opened and pressed,
and the spread bordered with a fancy
woolen fringe. The effect was quite rich,
and the expense not very great. A cor-
respondent of the Rural New Yorker has
adapted this idea to the manufacture of a
mg for the centre of her painted floor.
Scraps of carpet may be bought at the
carpet stores. sewed together, lined with
heavy sacking, and then bound with car-
pet binding, making avery durable and
neat rug.

Our carpet dealers here sell rugs for
the protection of the dining‘room carpet.
or for the painted floor of such a room.
They serve the purpose of a crumb—cloth,
are of ingrain carpet, woven in one piece,
with a border, large enough for any table,
not too heavy to be handled, can be light-
ly tacked to the floor and taken up and
dusted once a week with little trouble,
and are equally accommodating in the
matter of saving a handsome carpet or
hiding the holes in a worn one. They
cost $5.

For the benefit of those who are “joined
to their idols,” the following directions
for making a “chenille rug ” are clipped
from an exchange:

“Collect all your woolen scraps—no
matter how small or how much soiled-—
old fiannels can be dyed with bright dyes
and add very much to the beauty of the
ru . Cut all the pieces into crosswise
strips about half an inch wide; the length
isof no consequence. Thread a needle
with very strong thread doubled. Gather
the pieces through the center with not too
fine stitches. As fast as a piece is gather-
ed push it down close to the knot. Push
each piece as tight as possible to the
next one. Continue in this way until
the thread is full, then tie on another
thread and proceed as before. Make in
skeins about SIX yards long. It requires
about one hundred and fifty yards for a
rug. Take it to a carpet-weaver and have
it woven three- quarters of a yard wide.
If you have enough reds of different
shades to make fifty-eight yards for a
border at either end, and have the center
‘hit or miss,’ it makes a beautiful rug.
These rugs are very handsome, and being
alike on both sides,_ wear beautifully.
The only expense is In weaving, gener-
all fifty cents or one dollar. his work
uti izes pieces that would otherwise find
their way into the rag-bag.”

Possibly the ladies who read the House:-
IIOLD may think my ideas not economical,
in that I say buy, instead of manufacture.
I do not cavil at any work where the re
sults justify the labor, either in beauty,
usefulness, or economy. But I would
say buy a rug, or go without one, where
the busy woman who performs the varied
duties of the housekeeper and cares for
her children in addition, must devote
every spare moment to buttonholing
circles of cloth to sew on a foundation or

 

setting interminable stitches embroider-
ing a cat to wipe her feet on. The little
leisure which falls to her share should be
spent in mental and physical recreation
for husband and children’s sake; and
though neighbors may cry “extravagant,”
she had much better spend four dollars
for a rug than get cross and fretful and

“all tired out ” making one.
BE ATRIX.

————<»o——-

A PLEASANT EVENING .

 

I wonder if the HOUSEHOLD readers

‘would like to hear about our literary

“club socials” as we call them. These
are very harmless affairs, not nearly as
formidable as the name would seem to
indicate. Our Farmers’ Club has had,
so far, special evening meetings between
the regular monthly gatherings. These
meetings were intended more especially
for the young people, but of course, the
members of our club all consider them-
selves young, at least on that evening.

We do not have any particular subject,
but each one, or as many as will do so.
is expected to contribute something for
entertainment. Our last social gathering
numbered about sixty, and the time was
occupied until eleven o'clock in select
readings, music and a number of recita-
tions, which were very creditably ren‘
dered. In the midst of it, we were in-
vited to spend a short time in social chat,
while the “inner man” (and woman) was
being refreshed. The invitation was
accepted. The ice—cream and cake were
very nice. We passed from these to
“The Death-bed of Little Nell,” a selec~
tion from Dickens’ “ 01d Curiosity Shop.”
There are some beautiful and touching
passages in Dickens’ writings; and it is
amusing to see what a diversity of
characters he describes; in fact, from a
literary standpoint his books seem to be
a success, but I think the pure and ele-
vating influence which we get from really
good novels is lacking.

As this was to be the last of our even-
ing meetings, for a time, on account of
the short evenings, we kept rather late
hours, but at last reluctantly adjourned
until later in the season. Our July meet-
ing is to be a pic-nic. and we expect to
have a good time. s. J. n.

Bunrox.
_——Qw—-———

SUNDRY SUBJECTS.

 

I thought after my house-cleaning was
done, and my flower beds put in spring
repair, I would give Huldah Perkins my
method and experience in canning corn.
As Old Maid and Bess have given their
process, which is nearly the same as mine.
I will only say to Huldah that if she tries
it, and follows it to the letter, and has as
good success as I did, she will say, “ No
more dried corn for this family.”

Bess’ conundrum has been pretty well
answered, but I wish to say a few words
about the horse problem. There are but
few of the farmers nowadays who are not
able to keep a nice little driving horse
for their wives and-dang hters to use when
they wishto, and I contend that every
woman who drives, ought to know how

 

to harness and unharness her horse, and
hitch it to the buggy. She would be some-
what independent, and would not have
hear, “ Well, if you have got to have that
horse. I suppose I can hitch it up," and
other expressions not pleasant to her
ears. It seems to some men more of a
task to get a horse ready for a woman to
go than it does one for themselves.

Leone’s experience and my own must
have been about the same in regard to
writing our first articles for print. When
the paper with my first letter came it al-
most frightened me. After copying my
first articles from the first writing, I was
in so much fear of the waste-basket thatI
came near burning them. Fear that my
thoughts and opinions would not be ex-
pressed in a manner to please those better
versed in grammar than myself, deterred
me from writing. I have often thought
if I could write as well as certain others
I would write oftener. Every time I have
written, I have said to myself, this shall
be my last; better stop before an article
isredected.

When in Flint one day last week I cast
my eyes up to the windows where E. L.
Nye said she had taken up her residence,
and wondered if she would enjoy herself,
when the hot weather came, as she did in
that “cheerful and oommodious farm
house.” BETTY.

GRAND Burro.

———m———I—-

WHAT WAS WRONG?

 

If the subject of canning corn has not
been already tabooed, I would like to re—
late my experience, and if any one can
tell me what the trouble was I will be
greatly obliged.

Last summer Itried for the first time
to can corn. I used good Mason cans, cut
the corn from the cobs and packed
tightly in the cans until the milk ran
over the tops, then screwed the tops on
as tight as I could with my hand. I put
some hay in the boiler and packed the
cans in, being careful to have the hay
come between the cans, then filled the
boiler with cold water. I kept it boiling
for over three hours, then removed from
the fire; when cool enough to handle I
took the cans out and fastened the tops
with the wrench. While they were
boiling the juice ran out of the cans. I
had five quart cans; they looked splendid,
and I felt rather proud of them, as it was
my first experiment. The result was that
about two months afterward I passed the
shelf where the canned corn stood, and
what a smell greeted my olfactory organ!
MayI never smell the like of it again!
On looking around to locate it I found it
proceeded from my canned corn. There
was no perceptible difference in the looks
of it, but the smell was there. I emptied
the cans and had to boil them in lye to
cleanse them; but nevertheless if there is
asure way to keep the corn I want to
know it and will try again this year.

I dried some corn and it was splendid.
Icooked it on the cob until thoroughly
done, then cut it off, spread it on plates
and dried in the oven; it was a great deal
nicer than if dried before being cooked.

I heartily endorse Beatrix’s sentiments

 

 
  

-v§~mmb§y__§é. . . _. g 4 fl"; "‘

. a-_- :quga—au-‘w


4

    

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

inregardto dish-towels. I am not one
who thinks anything good enough to
wash and wipe dishes with, whether it
be the baby’s worn-out dress or a piece of
the men’s overalls. I greatly prefer nice
clean crash towels, and plenty of them.

L. A. R.
—-——40o——-——

BISOUIT WITHOUT SHORTENING.

 

A correspondent of an exchange tells
how to make a biscuit which she says is
excellent for dyspeptics,.and also those
who are blessed with good digestion:

- “First get your stove in good bakin
order—considerably hotter than for raise
bread; bring out bread board, rolling pin,
and biscuit cutter (and let it be a small
one, for these are to be genteel biscuit);
butter your pans, and have a pitcher of
sweet milk and your baking powder close
by. Put a piece of butter the size of a
hickory nut in a saucer and set on the
stove to melt. Now take a quart of sifted
flour and stir into it a heaping spoonful
of baking powder and a teaspoonful of
salt. Take the pi: cher of milk in the left
hand and pour slowly into the flour,
stirring the mixture quickly with a three
tined fork from the center outward. until
the flour is nearly all wet and the dough
quite soft. Now flour the hands and turn
the mass on the bread board and quickly
work it with the hands just enough to
roll out and cut into biscuit. Put into
the pan, and with a small spoon moisten
sli htly the top of each biscuit with the
me ted butter. Put in the oven, and if
degree of heat is just right, in ten
minutes they will come out such dainty
pufis that you will scarcely recognize
them. The butter on the top makes them
a golden brown, and does nct render them
indigestible. Most biscuit are made hard
by too much flour and kneading. 1 often
.put fruit that cooks easily in a deep dish
with sufficient sugar, and then place over
it a layer of dough similar to the biscuit.
only a little softer so that it can be turned
on and placed with a spoon. Eaten With
rich milk or cream, you will find it better
than any pie and much more diIgestible,
without a quarter of the work. t can be
steamed if you have plenty of time, and
by some this method is preferred to
baking, as the crust is‘ a little more
delicate.”

A CUP OF GOOD COFFEE.

 

 

A correspondent of the Christian at
Work gives the following recipe for that
necessary adjunct of a good breakfast, a
cup of good coifee:

‘FPut your ground coffee in a bowl, a
large tablespoonful for each person (most
authorities seem to agree about the quan—

tity); break into it the white of an egg
.(we use an egg for two mornings, the
:white for one and the yolk and shell the
next), stir this thoroughly-this is an im-
portant part of the process—then add
cold water very slowly, stirring all the
time, until a teaspoonful or more has
been mixed in. Having previously scald-—
ed your coffee-pot, pour the coffee into it,
rinsing out the bowl with a little cold
.water; fill the coffee-pot more than half
full with boiling hot water; then, with a
spoon, stir it a moment; set it on' the fire,
and when it first boils up, stir it down
and add half a teaspoonful of cold water;
this settles it. Then set it back on the

range. where it will keep hot till your
breakfast is ready. It should never be set
back far enough to grow cold. When
needed, let it boil up once more; and then

    

”brine to cover it. The brine may be made

 

pour it into your silver coffee-pot, and
serve as hot as possible. Block sugar
should be used, and condensed milk or
cream; boiled milk alone will not give it
the proper color Or flavor. Any one who
desires to get up a reputation for good
cofiee should not forget this.”
__..,___.

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

 

AUNT Anna, in the Country Gentleman,
recommends kerosene oil as an excellent
thing for bunions and come; and says a
little kerosene on a flannel cloth is good -
to polish an oilcloth or polished floor.

 

YOUR pies will not “ stew out” if you
roll a piece of writing paper into a fun-
nel and insert it into the centre of the
upper crust. Another way is to take a
strip of clean white cloth about three—
quarters of an inch wide, wet in thin
flour and water and bind it round the
edge of the pie. '

 

A LADY recently asked how to keep the
lime from forming a coating on the in-
side of her teakettle. Some housekeepers
keep an oyster-shell in the kettle for that
purpose. Another recommends washing
the inside of the kettle every day; a third
advises the kettle should be emptied and
dried when not in use.

IF you have feathers you wish to dry
or wash, put them in a bag before attempt-
ing to do anything with them. Many
housekeepers will attempt to dry feathers
in a pan under the stove or in the oven,
and the result is they are well scattered
through the house, even With the greatest
care. The bag remedies all this. ‘

 

IF you wish to keep your “June but—
ter ” sweet and fresh for use in August,
make it into convenient rolls, wrap
around each a new clean cloth, and place
in a keg or barrel provided with sumcient

of clean common salt, for it does not
penetrate the butter. The butter will
keep as good as new an unlimited length
of time. Putting it in rolls allows taking
out a small portion at a time and without
exposing the rest of it to the air.

 

A LADY writes us that seeing the advice
in the Housnnonn to use ammonia for
cleaning woodwork, she tried it, with a
great saving of “elbow grease.” The
only objection she has to its use is that it
seemed to make her hands tender, and
badly discolored her finger-nails. Use
rather less of the ammonia in the water,
and after finishing up, rub the hands
with vinegar or lemon—juice, which neu-
tralizes the effects of the ammonia, and
removes the stain from the nails.

 

A CORRESPONDENT of the Ladies’ Home
Journal utilized some pieces of faded in-
grain carpet which had been thrown
aside as worthless, by cutting out the
firmest portions. washing them and dying
them green with Diamond dyes. The
pattern “took black,” and the lighter
groundwork green. They were then
firmly fastened to strips of rag carpeting

 

just the size for lining, the edges being
bound together by strips of scarlet flan-
nel, and outside and lining tacked in sev-
eral places with scarlet yarn. They were
found very serviceable as rugs.
_._.*.._____
HOME-MADE HARD Sosa—I wish to an-
swer the inquiries for a way to make an
excellent hard soap. Get Babbitt’s potash
of lye, eight one pound cans for $1; fol—
low the directions on the cans. and you
can not fail to get a soap to please you.
Each can will make up six pounds of
clean grease, without any boiling, by
simply pouring the ingredients together
and stirring ten minutes. Use earthen~
ware for the whole process—never iron or
tin; one and three gallon jars are good,
with shallow dishes for it to be set away
to harden in, which will take but few
hours; and your soap will be fit to use in
twenty-four hours. I like asmall amount
of mutton tallow. as I think it better for
the hands, but it is not a harsh soap with-
out it. I have used it three years and
like it better than any of the patent soaps

in use. . LUCY.

ANN ARBOR.
—-—.OO———

. Contributed Recipes.

 

Momssns CAKE—TWO eggs; one cup sugar;
one cup molasses; half cup butter; three cups
flour; spice; two teaspoonfuls of soda, dis-
solved in a cup of boiling water; mix in the
order named; bake in deep dishes. This is
“ tip-top.” Barry.

GRAND BLANC.

CHOCOLATE Carin—Whites of three eggs;
one cup white sugar; nearly one cup sweet
cream; two teaspoonfuls baking powder; pinch
of salt; two cups flour; bake in layers. Fill-
ing: Take one cup sugar, add just enough.
waterto keep it from burning, and boil until
brittle. Beat the white of one egg to a stiff
froth, stir in the sugar, and grate in one square
of German sweet chocolate . Spread between
the cakes and on top. To make a striped cake
grate a little chocolate and stir in the layer
intended for the middle. It is very nice. A
little cocoanut mixed with the chocolate filling
adds to its flavor. L. n. n.

 

LIMON Tums—Make the paste for your
shells of butter, very cold water, and flour,
kneading just as little as possible; it will then
be rich and flaky. For the filling, grate the
yellow rind of onelarge lemon, add its juice to
one cup sugar, the yolk of one egg and a bit of
butter about the size of an acorn. Stir well.
Dissolve a dessert—spoonful of corn starch in a
cup of water, and add to the ingredients.
Cook in a saucepan—being very careful it does
not burn—till it is a rich golden jelly; fill the
shells, and cover with a meringue made-of the
white of one egg beaten to a froth with two
spoonfuls of powdered sugar; set in the oven
a moment till a “light biscuit brown.”

COOKING SPINACH.-Wash and trim the
spinach, and boil from three to seven minutes,
or till tender, in salted ”water, which must boil
when it is put in and all the time thereafter
till it is done. Drain; turn cold water over it ;_
chop it fine, then heat hot in a pan containing
a tablespoonful of nice sweet butter, stirring
constantly with a wooden spoon. Season with
salt and pepper. Spinach is nice fried. Wash
the leaves, put them into hot butter in a frying
pan, and keep turning until done. Serve on.
squares of buttered toast. M. B.

Dnraorr.