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DETROIT, JUNE 22, 1886.

 

THE Homgmmqmzimmgimplement.

 

 

LOVE .VE‘ER FORGETS.

" Darling,” he sai , “ l never meant
To hurt you ;“ and his eyes were wet.
“I would not hurt you for the worl ’1;
Am Ito blame ifl forget?"

“Forgive my selfish tears,” she cried;
“ Forgive l I knew that it was not
Because you meant to hurt me, sweet—

I knew it was that you forgot!”

But all the same, deep in her heart
Rankled this thought, and rankles yet:
“When love is at its best, one loves
So much that he cannot forget.”
—H. H.

—-———-—«>——-—-—-—-

SILKVVORMS.

 

For several weeks past there has been
an exhibit of silkworms at work in a
store on Woodward Avenue, in this city,
and the other day Iwent in to see the
first cause of our silk dresses engaged
in their work of spinning without
machinery. Louis Shiappacasse, who had
raised silkworms in France and Italy be-
fore coming to this country, sent to
Genoa for silkworm eggs, receiving them
the first week in May. The eggs, when
received, were on the point of hatching;
Mr. Shiappacasse said “One day more
and they be all hatch, then they die.” The
worms, when they first break the eggs, are
very small. “only so big,” said the pro—
prietor, showing a bit of wood represented
by this dash —. When it is time for the
eggs to hatch, they are covered with a'
layer of mulberry leaves, which have
been pierced with many small holes; as
the worms emerge they crawl through
these holes and at once begin eating.

The vacant room in the store where the
silkworms are at work is occupied by a
long table covered with wooden racks
containing the worms, some of which
had spun their cocoons and were awaiting
their next transformation, some were
spinning, while others were in the last
stage, just ready to begin to spin.

These last were very repulsive looking,

worms, of a dirty white color, aboutthree
inches long, and nearly as large round as
a lead pencil. They were feeding on
mulberry leaves, which they ate “ with
ease and avidity ;” it is surprising to see
how rapidly the leaves disappear under
their attacks. Asmall boy whose olive
complexion and melting black eyes he-
trayed his Italian parentage, loaned me a
small lens through which I could see very
plainly the structure of the head and
jaws, which seem eminently adapted to
destructive purposes. The noise made by
0 many jaws busily at work is quite per-

P

 

cepiible; the worms do not move about‘
while feeding, each securing a leaf or
part of one, and not leaving 'it till only i
the stem remains, but as I looked down i
at the mass of dirty white mixed with the i
fast disappearing green of the leaves, it i
seemed in a state of continual restless ;
ness.‘ i

The worms pass through four moults, i
consuming a period of about forty days, ‘
before they are rearl_' to spin. Mr.
Shiappacasse. speaking of these moults,
said: “Then they go to sleep; they
sleep a day—twenty four hours—then .
their skin come off; it make ’em sickn,
they keep still twelve hours, then they"
eat some more.” Each worm will eat an
ounce of leaves during its life, and the
product from a single ounce of eggs,
will eat 1,200 pounds of leaves, which
seems to justify the saying “ as greedy as
a silkworm.”

At intervals above the racks splints of
light wood were arched from one side to
the other and filled in with excelsior.
The worm, when ready to spin, selects
aplace in this, and attaching itself by
some loose threads, constructs its cocoon,
which at first looks like a bit of cobweb,
which is continually being thickened by
the industrious spinner inside, whose
head is constantly in motion, back and
forth, from side to side. Under the lens I
could see the delicate filament of silk-—
issuing from what seemed to be two
openings in the nose of the worm, if the
expression is allowable—which, fine as it
is, consists of two strands. The outer
part of the cocoon is the coarsest, a floss
silk, next it is a fine, thicker coat, within
that a very fine lining to which the
worm is able to supply a glue which
renders it impervious to air and water.
The cocoons. in size and shape, made me
think of anice fat peanut; they are a
little over an inch in length, and larger
round than the ordinary peanut, having
a similar but slighter depression in the
centre; some are a delicate creamy white,
others more of a straw color. and the
crysalis inside rattles like a dried pea in
apod.

I asked some questions about the pro-
cess of unwinding the cocoons, how they
managed to find the ends and begin to
unreel them, and learned that the cocoons
are soaked in warm water, then a small
soft broom is introduced among them
and they are gently stirred with it.
When the broom is lifted, the ends of the
silk are attached to it; from six hundred

 

to eight hundred feet of silk can be un-
wound from a single cocoon without a

break. I was shown a box containing per-
haps a hundred cocoons, and as I took
one ofthe “airynothings” in my hand, I
could not help reflecting what a quantity
it would take to weigh a pound, and how
many industrious spinners must live their
brief span to produce a single piece of

silk. '

The coarse fibers among which the
worms choose places to do their spinning
Were well filled with the finished w-u'k.
These worms are evidently healthy, and
no amount of quizzing could induce
their owner to admit that the silkworm,
per se, is susjeet t) any disease. All that
is needed to raise silkworms at pleasure, is
mulberry leaves,he said : but it was evident
that it would take no small quote. to fill
these ever hungry mouths four times per
day; and also that the labor of procuring
leaves, feeding them, (the foliage is
stripped from the branches) and cleaning
the racks would be no considerable item;
in fact it would keep two or three persons
well out of mischief. There is a quite
disagreeable odor arising from the worms,
also; women with sensitive noses will
not enjoy silk growing.

I confess I left, not a hit in love with
the pleasures, nor dazzled by the profits
of silk-raising. The oft-repeated state-
ment that it islight and easy work, I can
see for myself is a humbug, if enough
are raised to make it a monetary object.
I long ago made up my mind that the
only “money in it ” was for those who
had the eggs (and mulberry trees) to sell,
and I see no reason for a different con-
clusion. Mr. Shiappacasse will sell the
product of his crop of cocoons as eggs,
not silk, and said a great many farmers
who had looked in had concluded to
undertake the business. I would remind
all such, before they buy the eggs, that it
would be advisable to look over their
farms and ascertain the exact location of
every mulberry tree; it is a piece of use-
ful information they will need about the
time the worms have consumed 60,000
times their 0 on primitive weight in
leaves. If one wished only to raise a few
worms for the fun of it, or to watch a
curious process of transformation and
development, the experiment might be a
very interesting one. I would advise
all those who have the “silk fever" to

procure a thousand eggs first, and when
they have realized the labor involved,
multiply it to the 100,000-egg standard,
and decide if it is not “too much for the
shilling,” that is, the present price of
cocoons in the few places where they can
be sold in this country.
BEATRIX .

 


2 , THE HOUSEHOLD'

 

PU I'I‘IN G UP FRUIT.

 

I do not know that I can furnish any
new information to housekeepers on this
subject, but perhaps what I can say may
aid some inexperienced ones in the work.
I remember that when I first began to do
housework the little hints about the right
way to do things often helped me far
more than more elaborate directions.
Most of us have a general idea how to do
our work, when we begin, but often fail
for want of proper attention to details,
and wonder what it was that caused us to
fall short of our ideas of perfection.

In putting up fruit the country house-
wife has a great advantage over her city
sister, who must buy her supplies, after
perhaps a long journey by rail, which
probably compels it to be gathered before
it is ripe. It is more or less mussed, and
has been gathered from ten to twenty-
four hours before she can take charge of
it. Fruit keeps best when freshly gath-
ered, and is also of the best flavor. Never
gather fruit for canning or making jam
or preserves on a wet day if you want it
to keep. Strawberries, raspberries and
blackberries should not linger long on
the road between the vines and the pre-
serving kettle; the fresher they are the
nicer the jams, 8.53., will be. I think red
raspberries the most difficult fruit to put
up; “the active principle of ferment ”
seems present in unusual quantity. I
have made jam and also canned them,
but never have succeeded in keeping
either without cooking over. I would be
glad if any one who has been more for.
tunate would give their method, and
quickly, that I may try again this year.

Currants are a favorite fruit with us;
currant jam, spiced currants and currant
jelly being our favorite method of put-
ting them up. When they are cheap and
plenty-rwe have to buy our fruit—I al-
ways dry some in sugar for use in mince
pies, to which they give a very pleasant
flavor. I stew them in a little water be-
fore using them in that way.

I find that since I have used the best
white sugar with my fruit it keeps better
than when I tried to economize by using
a cheaper grade. I suppose it is the im—
purities which make the cheap sugar so

unsafe. I think it is the most economical ..

way to can berries to make a sugar syrup
by melting the sugar in a pan with just
enough Water to prevent burning, let it
boil up, skim, and then drop in the fruit,
and as soon as it is done skim it out into
the cans; this is my way with jams, also,
only that I co )k‘ the fruit and sugar to-
gether till done. Unless absalutely nec
essary on account of sand, I never like
to wash fruit before putting up, but what
we get in a city market nearly always
needs such cleaning. I put it in a colan-
der and let the water run over it a mo-
ment, then turn it on a clean towel,
which dries it ready for the kettle. This
should be quickly and deftly done, and
with judgment; the fruit does not require
soaking, only a dash of water to take off
whatever may adhere to it.

Fruit should not be cooked in metal;
that is one cause of dull jams and cloudy

jellies. A porcelain-lined saucepan only
is fit for the purpose. Nor should the
fruit be stirred with a metal spoon, a
wooden one is far better, and costs but a
trifle. Currants especially are so acid that
they affect a metal pan, as is easily seen
if you think why your tin ware is so dis-
colored. When [cook currants for jam
or spiced fruit, I put them in my enamel-
ed pan, over a slow fire, and with a spoon
mash a few on the bottom; the juice from
these will cook a few and so in turn till
all are scalded. Stir gently to prevent
burning, and when it is well at a boil add
the sugar. Currants need more sugar
than any other fruit; the old rule, “pound
for pound,” is none too much for them;
for other jams I only use three-fourths of
a pound of sugar to a pound of fruit. In
canning fruit I use my judgment; I think
it keeps better and tastes better to use
plenty of sugar. Fruit that is canned
without sugar we find very unpalatable;
it needs to be heated, the sugar added
and the whole cooked and cooled before
it is fit to eat; or at least “our folks ”
think so. ’

J ams I prefer to put up in cans; I find
I can use those which are not quite air-
tight, and in which canned fruit would
spoil, for this purpose. I let the fruit
cool a little, ladle it into the cans, filling
them well up. Then I cut a piece of let-
ter paper to fit the top, wet it in alcohol and
lay it on the fruit. Then out a circle large
enough to fit the top of the can, wet this
in white of egg and paste down. Over
this I tie strong white paper, and write
the kind of fruit and the date of making
on it. Jellies are handled in the same
way, except that the handle-less teacups,
old bowls, tumblers, goblets minus a
foot, etc., etc.. are pressed into service. I
compel the goblets to maintain a perpen—
dicular by cutting strips of pasteboard,
sewing them together like wide rings, and
setting the glass inside.

I want a perfectly dry, cool place to
store fruit in, and generally wrap my
cans in newspapers, after the danger of
fermenting is past, which is usually in
ten days or two weeks. I believe the pa-
perjackets prevent the fruit from bleach-
ing, though it may be only one of my
whims. L. c.

DETROIT.
”—09,——

A RIDICULOUS CUSTOM.

 

When people are invited to attend wed-
dings in this country they seem to think
they are specially licensed to carry away
all that remains of the refreshments. I
wonder who can tell where the custom
originated. I can truly say the men are
not guilty of this abominable‘practice; it
seems to be purely a womanish custom.
Do women ever stop to think what it
amounts to, when forty or fifty women or
girls take home “ wedding cake ” to some
one left at home, or for themselves, be-
cause it will taste good the next day? I
think when people are invited to a wed-
ding, and are served with nice refresh-
ments,~ they should be satisfied, and in
common politeness not go near the tables
again. If they are requested to take

 

some of the refreshments to a friend, let

them be prepared by the hostess, or if the
hostess requests the guest to~help herself,
let it be a small amount, “just a taste,”

not enough for a meal. I lately attended

a wedding where I saw a young lady fill
a shoe box with all kinds of the refresh-
ments, and then put up two packages in
paper, and I am quite sure without the
consent of host or hostess. Another in-
stance I know of where the lady had pre-
pared a great abundance, thinking tohave
some left to last a number of days, as she
was very tired with the excitement and
hard work incident to such occasions,
where the refreshments are prepared at
home. The guests were nicely and plen-
tifully served, and about half the refresh-
ments remained, but when the guests had
all departed there was scarcely enough
left for breakfast. This happened among
nice, cultivated people, but I think people
are apt to be very thoughtless about
things that are common practice.

I think it would be much more agree—
able to the host and hostess to be allowed
to dispose of the cake after serving guests.
They frequently have friends they wish
to remember, and what can they do if
their invited guests carry home all that
remains? I hope this is a practice confin-
ed to the country, as I think it would
look doubly impolite where the refresh—
ments are furnished by a caterer. but I
think it would become an obsolete prac-
tice, ‘and that speedily, if people would
stop to consider how ridiculous it really
is. If any of the members wish to defend
the practice, I will be glad to know their
views. OLD SCHOOL TEACHER.

» TICUISIH.
————-——OOO————

THE CHILD KING.

I was much interested in a little story
by Rose Terry Cooke, recently published
in the Congregationalist, which, though
amusing, has yet a moral which many
mothers in our land might heed with
profit, not alone to themselves but to their
children. But then—whoever does heed
the moral of a story? we “ skip that,” and
look only for the next story' which shall
amuse us. And somehow, I have always
noticed that where the “coat fits ” best it
is never tried on, but always passed on
with the thought how nicely it will suit
somebody else!

The story is of a minister’s wife, who
started out to make a round of calls upon
her husband’s parishioners; and narrates
what she saw of the varying relations of
mother to child in different families. At
the first place her errand was to invite
the mother to go with her to a neighbor-
ing town where the latter’s sister resided,
for a day’s visit. The mother longed for
the rest and change, but her daugh-
ter’s white dress must be ironed, the ruf-
fles fluted, and biscuit, cake and pies
made for her to take to apicnic in the
afternoon, In the midst of the conversa-
tion the daughter enters, showily and un-
suitably'dressed, to make a fresh demand
upon her mother, and when the tired wo-
man remonstrates, saying she has already
too much to do, asks her if she “ can’t get

up real early." The minister’s wife sug-

 

gests that the daughter might help, but

 

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THE HOUSEHOLD 2:5

 

 

the mother half indignantly declares that
her child is “ real delicate and loves to
go; children ain’t children but once,” and
declines the invitation.

At the next place our lady called four
children of differing ages “knocked her
out in the first round," to adopt a sporting
phrase which is expressive if not elegant,
simply because they absorbed the atten-
tion of the older persons present, who
had been accustomed to listen while the
children did the talking. In the Babel of
tongues the latter found herself in a
hopeless minority, and was glad to retire.

The next call was at the house of mourn
ing. Two children had died of diphtheria,
and into the sympathizing ear of her vis-
itor the bereaved mother poured the story
of her sorrows. Her son. died simply be-
cause she had not the resolution to com-
pel him to submit to the treatment order-
ed by the doctor, which the little patient
resisted because it was unpleasant. “ Hal
screamed and kicked, and wouldn’t let
me, because it hurt so,” and that told the
story of a mother's weakness, which cost
her child’s life. The little daughter could
not be sent to a place of safety, because
she “ never would stay with anybody but
mother,” and she, too, died. The pitying

’ listener could not voice the thought of her

heart, that if the children had been taught
to obey in health, they might have lived.

The next visit was made where a
mother was nursing a daughter with a
sprained ankle, the result of a fall at the
rink, which the mother condemned in
unmeasured terms. Asked why she let her
child go, if she thought it so unfit a place,
she said: “Girls is headstrong as pigs.
I’ve always wanted my children to have a
good time while they were young; there’s
trouble enough ahead of ’em, so I’ve let
’em run, and ’tisn’t to be expected I can
stop ’em now” an unanswerable argu-
ment.

The woman in the search for social ex-
periences chanced next upon an anxious
mother watching her son and heir as he
essayed to manage that most unruly of
steeds, a new bicycle. Here, too, “ boys
must be boys,” and for that reason the
taxes were unpaid, and the mother mak
ing over her old clothes and practicing
rigid economy so far as her own needs
were concerned, to buy the costly pleas-
ure for the boy “because he wanted it.”
Then her maternal “nerves were worn
tojravelin’s” for fear he would breaklhis
precious neck learning to manage it.

It seemed to be an eventful day in the
family circles of the little town described,
for our writer tells of the fifteen-year old
girl who, forbidden to go for an evening
ride to an neighboring town with a stran-
ger, put on her bonnet and went, just as
if permission had been granted; and of
the miss who invited three of her school—
mates to spend a week with her. thus de—
priving her mother of an opportunity to
visit a sister she had not seen for three
years, as well as compelling of the fool—
ishly indulgent woman increased labor in
the hot weather.

And the worst of all was, that in all of
these examples of the results of such un-
limited indulgence, such perversion of the

 

natural and legitimate order of things, by
which those who should be governed
really rule over those who ought to
govern, the mother love—which after all
in every case here mentioned is not truly
love, but a blind,unreasoning animal affec-
tion, which grants the license of the mo-
ment regardless of consequences—is
angry at the slightest hint that the child—
ren are not what they should be, and ex—
cuses every fault by saying, “ Young
folks will be young folks,” as if youth,
instead of being a seed-time, preparatory
to the harvest of middle life and age, was
really only a period which should be
spent in. having a good time unrestrained
by any authority.

And the old minister, when his wife
recounted her adventures, looking with
prophetic eye into the future, quoted;
“Woe unto thee, ch land, when thy king
is a child.” Bgaxrnrx.

-————¢oo————
CURRANT JELLY.

 

A correspondent sends to the Century
the following recipe, which, she says, has
three advantages to commend it:

“First, it never fails, as the old plan is
sure to do five times out of eight: secondly,
it requires but half the usual quantity of
sugar, and so retains the grateful acidity
and peculiar flavor of the fruit; thirdly, it
is by far less troublesome than the usual
method. Weigh the currants without
taking the trouble to remove the stems—
do not wash them, but carefully remove
leaves and whatever may adhere to them.
To each pound of fruit allow half the
weight of granulated or pure loaf sugar.
Put a few currants in a porcelain lined
kettle, and press them with a potato
masher or anything convenient, in order
to secure sufficient liquid to prevent burn-
ing. Take out and strain carefully
through a three cornered bag of strong,
close texture, putting the liquid in either
earthen or wooden vessels—never in tin,
as the action of the acid on tin materially
affects both color and flavor. When
strained return the liquid to the kettle
without the trouble of measuring, and let
it boil thoroughly for amoment or so,
and then. add the sugar. The moment
the sugar is entirely dissolved the jelly
is done, and must be immediately dished
or placed in glasses. It will jelly upon
the side of the cup as it is taken up.
leaving no dcubt as to the result. Gather
the fruit early, as soon as fully ripe, since
the pulp softens and the juice is less rich
if allowed to remain long after ripening.
In our climate the first week in July is
usually considered the time to make
currant jelly. Never gather currants,
or other soft or small seed fruit, im-
mediately after a rain for preserving
purposes, as they are greatly impoverisho
ed by the moisture absorbed. In pre-
serving all fruits of this class, if they
are boiled until tender or transparent in
a small quantity of water, and. the sugar
is added afterward, the hardness of the
seeds, so objectionable in small fruits,
will be thus avoided. A delicious jam
may be made of blackberries, currants,
and raspberries, or of currants, with a few
raspberries to flavor, by observing the

 

above giggestion, and adding sugar,
pound for pound, and boiling about
twenty minutes.”

_.....___
OUR HOUSEHOLD INSTRUCTORS.

Not very long ago, I read a sermon
by Dr. Talmage, addressed to the news-
paper reporters of New York, in which
he aflirmed that the best newspapers of
the present age were greater instructors
than the Bible. It 'is true, we gain the
ideas of the many all over the world, by
means of the papers, yet the Bible will
ever remain the book of all books. I '
have been much instructed and interested
in reading many articles in the HOUSE—
HOLD, though some of them have been
carried to the extreme, and the bottom
has fallen out. It is quite evident that
Beatrix has lived among farmers and in
a country school district, and the com-
parison of the farmer’s wool box is a good
one. Fashion will lead children to want
to follow their playmates to the high
school.

We can draw pictures of personal
character from the manner in which a
person writes, and often of a man by his
walk. When we seeaman with measured
step, his head a little cast down, we con—
sider he isathoughtful man, and whether
he is studying good or evil, his works
will tell. In writing about others, we
lay ourselves open to criticism, and by
experience we learn that we must be care-
ful, but it is well that we do not all think
alike, and that we do not all “graduate
in the same class,” or we should fail to
be instructors of one another.

PLAINWELL. ANTI-OVER.

—-—~o>——

EIGHT-CEN I‘ BUTTER.

Butter was quoted at eight cents per
pound in several of our interior towns
recently, with the merchants not at all
anxious to invest in the product even at
that figure. it is cheaper, and a great
saving of hard labor, to feed the milk to
the pigs or calves than to make butter at
that price, Yet that very week choice
grades of butter, shipped direc: to this
city, were retailed to customers at twenty-
one cents per pound, proving conclusive-
ly that there is butter, and butter. What
makes the distinction? One woman has
every appliance for making the best
grade, and every part of the process of
manufacture, from the fodder of the cat-
tle at the barn to the final shipment to
the city, is part of a method, the best
known. The other woman makes butter
to use up the milk, and so she gets it,
made and “swapped” for groceries, it
matters little if it is butter or grease. One
has won a reputation by dint of pains-
taking endeavor; the other works just as
hard to swell the “shoe box ” receipts of
the country store. Undoubtedly some of
this eight-cent butter was good when
sold; but invthe present condition of the
butter market it netted the producer next
to nothing, and will be aloss to the buyer.
There is some difference between the
methods of the country dealer and the
city commission man. One of the latter
in this city has a room, 12x18 feet, cooled

 


4:

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

by ice, and on shelves around this are
stored the packages of butter as they are
received from the country. The atmos-
phere is sweet, pure and fresh, the ven-
tilation perfect, the temperature low
enough to keep the butter without deter-
ioration until it can find its way to the
tables of those who can afford to pay
from twenty to thirty cents for it. The
country maker receives about two-thirds
of the selling price as her reward, and in
this case, at least, it seems as if the “profits
of the middleman” were justly his, from
the pains taken to preserve the quality of
the product.

W

AN 1N DUS‘I‘RIOUS WOMAN.

 

Mrs. Wm. Stephenson, of Ousted, writes
to the Adrian Times, detailing her
method of raising chickens, of which she
has about five hundred. In addition to
the labor of caring for her chicks, she
takes care of the milk of four cows, and
has three men to cook for. She tells the
Times how she manages the chickens:

“ My henery consists of a good-sized
park. and a house containing two rooms
below, 18x12 feet. The back room is the
roost, the front room and under the
house for shelter, etc. I have 75 hens
and two cocserels, and try to have as
many hens set at one time as possible.
When they hatch I take the chicks from
their mother and put them up stairs. If
the weather is a little cool, I start a fire
in the stove. l have a piece of carpeting
tacked across one corner of the room for
them to hover under. Ithen arrange a

dish of water, one of meal, one of wheat,
. one of corn, one of sand or gravel, and a
dust bath. As soon as they are able to
eat corn I move them below. I have a
six gallon stone churn, with a hole in the
bottom about the size of a dollar piece.
I take a milk pan and arrange three half
bricks in it, then set the churn on the
bricks and fasten it to the side of the
house with wire, and fill it with wheat
and corn. The contents will run out till
the pan is full, and as they eat it, it will
continually fill till the churn is empty. I
have a half-barrel sunk in the ground,
and nearly filled with cobble stones, then
filled with water; it is an easy matter for
the men to fill the different dishes in the
morning. When I set a hen I mark the
date on the eggs with an indelible pencil,
which saves annoyance. When I take
the chicks from their mother, if the hens

are inclined to set again, I gratify them. I

have hens that have set eight weeks, and

arelooking we .”

.__——4w—-—-——
TWO LITTLE GIRLS’ LETTERS.

 

Nature has clothed every thing in
green. The rose bushes and the locust
trees are loaded with buds and blossoms
that always tell that spring has come.
The little green things on the cherry

trees which look as though they never
could be fit to eat, in a few short weeks
will be a brilliant red, and like as not
some of us will get our legs or necks
broken, for ’our trees are very old, and
have borne every year we have been here

ful fields of clover that tempt me to play
hide-and- seek with my sister. are covered
with blossoms. The wheat fields of waving
green in a few weeks will be transposed
into golden sheaves, and then we will
soon hear the threshing machines hum,
a sure sign that autumn has come.

can be. A good way to kill them is to cut
them down, put some salt around the
roots, and turn the sheep in, and they
will kill them; so my papa says.
think the best way is to dig themup, and

to seed, nor can they come up from the

The burdocks are looking as thrifty as

But I

throw them away; then they cannot go

roots, for I am convinced that they do
come up from the roots‘sometimes.

Soon we will have to bend our backs
picking strawberries. How I long for
the time to come! I know it is no pleas—
ure to stoop and pick them in the hot sun,
but we are amply repaid for it. How
wonderful 3. process is grafting! It will
always remain a mystery to me. When
I go by the orchard and see the little
sticks in the limbs, it seems impossible
they will grow; but in a few short years

they will be loaded with fruit.
VIOLET.
Oxemos.

Minneliaha and Violet are my sisters;
they are the only sisters I have; I have
two brothers. I take care of my brother’s
pen of White Cochin chickens, and he is
going to give me a setting of eggs. I have
two old hens and quite a number of small
chickens. I think it pays to raise chick-
ens. The lice bother our chickens very
much. We have a small bellows that is
full of sulphur, and we blow it under
their wings, and think it helps to kill the
Bee
Will somebody tell me what to put on
our rose bushes to kill the lice? that is
what I call them. I have not noticed any
only on the buds. .
Violet is going to copy this letter for
me so Beatrix can read it, for I am only
nine years old. TEENY.

Oxnnos.
W

HOUSE HOLD HINTS.

 

YOU can clean your cane chairs with a
sponge and hot water, with soap. Put in
the open air to dry, and as the cane dries
it will tighten and become firm as new.

 

Warm the paper you lay over your
cake in the oven to prevent its burning.
The paper suspends the baking for abrief
time, during which the cake may settle.

 

THIS excellent receipt for washing
blankets and fiannels is used in the
Cambridge hospital: Stir two tablespoon-
fuls of powdered borax into one quart of
soft soap, beat it well, and thin with
hot water; pour it in a tub and fill partly
with lukewarm water. Soak the
blankets over night, rinse well in warm
water the next morning, and hang to
dry, without rubbing or wringing. Dry
in open air. .

DB. Knnzm, of the Agricultural Col-
lege, says two parts of sifted coal ashes

water, makes a good cement to close
open cracks in stoves and furnaces.

 

A CORRESPONDENT of the Prairie Farm-

er says cheese cloth makes a splendid

dish-cloth. soft, easy to wring, does not

thicken up, and dries easily. One of our

HOUSEHOLD contributors uses mosquito

net, folded and held in place by a few

stitches at the edges, and likes it better _
than anything else.

 

THE HOUSEHOLD Editor received re-

cently a very fine cabinet photograph of
“ The HOUSEHOLD Baby” and her sister,
the children of our valued contributor,
A. H. J., of Thomas.
Baby has a sweet, thoughtful face, which
can, we are sure, readily dimple with
mischief and fun.
of our latest acquisition for the HOUSE-
HOLD Album. which fills up all too slow~
1y to suit us.

Our HOUSEHOLD

We are very proud

————-—fiO§—————

WHAT has become of all our HOUSE-

HOLD correspondents? Calls for “ copy "
are becoming oft‘repeated and peremp-
tory. and there is an “aching void, a

weary waste of space” in the compart-
ment of the editorial desk devoted to
HOUSEHOLD correspondence. The Editor
wants to hear from a good many of our
writers. “right away quick.”

m

Canned Vegetables.

 

 

 

WE give some recipes for canned vegetables»
clipped from various sources. We do not
vouch for results, but would be glad to. have
the recipes tried by our housekeepers, and
their success or failure reported:

CANNED Comm—Gather when in good eat—
ing state; place the corn, cobs and all, in a
vessel, and pour boiling water over it; let it
remain in the hot water five minutes, then cut
the corn from the cob, boil'ope hour in a porce-
lain kettle, then fill your jars, putting in as
little water as possible; seal quickly.

 

HUBBARD SQUASH Carmen—Cut them Open,
seed them , turn them outside down in a pan
with some water in; set it in the oven; when
done scrape it with a spoon; then put in a
porcelain kettle over a slow fire; when well
browned put in self-sealing jars made quite hot
and seal quickly. '

 

CANNED. Tomarons.—Pour scalding water
over entirely fresh tomatoes and skin them.
Have ready the sealing wax in a cup at the
back of the fire. and a teakettleful of boiling
water. Put three cans, with their covers in
readiness, on the hearth in front of the fire;
fill them with boiling water. But enough to-
matoes in a porcelain preserving kettle to fill
these cans; add no water to them. Let them
come to the boiling point or be well scalded
through. Then, emptying the water from the
cans, fill them with hot tomatoes; wipe off the
moisture from the tops with a cloth and press
the covers on tightly. While pressing upon.
each cover with a knife, pour a small stream of
hot sealing wax carefully around it. Hold the
knife a moment that the wax may set. When
these cans are sealed continue the operation
till all the tomatoes are canned. Heat the
blade of an old knife red-hot and run it over
the wax to melt any bubbles. Notice if there
is any sound of steam escaping, and if any holes

 

 

 

 

ten years) except last year. The beauti-

and one of common salt, moistened with

are hot, with a bit of sealing wax.

are found wipe them and cover, while the cans-

  
 

 

 

s'a..~ .... ..

. sow/w nmmché

.‘l‘k‘mir .