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THE HOUSEHOLD-"S

M

'1'le SON OF OMISSION.

 

It isn’t the thing you do, dear,
It’s the thing you leave undone
Which gives you a bit of headache
At the setting of the sun;
The lender word forgotten,
The letter you did not write,
The ﬂower you might have sent, dear,
Are your haunting a hosts to night.

The stone you might have lifted
Out of the brother’s way,
The bit of tearthstone counsel
You were hurried too much to say;
The loving touch of the hand, dear,
The gentle and winsome tone
That you had no time or thought for,
With troubles enough of your own.

These little acts of kindness
So easily out of mind,
These chances to be angels
Which even mortals ﬁn d—
They come in night and silence,
Each child reproacs ful wraith,
When Hope is faint and ﬂagging,
And a blight has dropped on Faith.

For life is all too short, dear,
And sorrow is all too great,
To suffer our‘ slow compassion
That tarries until too late.
And it’s not the thing you do, dear,
It‘s the thing you leave undone.
Which gives you the b tter heartache
At the set ing of the sun.

w

SPRING M ILLINE RY.

 

Easter came so late and April was so
mild—after its introductory snowstorm,
that the milliners have been busy as bees in
apple bloom all the month. I do not
really understand how spring bonnets
came to be so intimately associated with
Easter, but it is very convenient to have a
ﬁxed date when it is eminently proper to
“blossom out” in brilliance and beauty
with no fear of being accused of “ rushing
the season.” But I fancy there might be
found unthinking people who, asked what
Easter means, would reply “ Why, don’t

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

are very desirable but ar
priced, being marked 85"
They are however very stylish.

many novelties; bonnets of silk
sementerie in open
embroidery, and the like, w
from $4 to $8 for the bonnet alone.

mings, usually ﬂowers and lace, orlace
ribbon. A very pretty, simple yet stylisl
bonnet of fancy
Neapolitan, was
black net Shirred full and had
a bunch of dark red asters an
dotted net, with ties of the n

marked $6, but the home

milliner could
effect

a saving of a couple of dollars on it.
Another, of much the same shape, had a
cluster of ﬁne yellow ﬂowers which much
resembled lilac blossoms-though I never
yet heard of a yellow lilac—with full trim-
min g of lace edge about four inches wide.
The lace made a ﬂuffy, full, soft setting for
the ﬂowers, and was extended down
the sides of the crown, straight, to where
the lace ties which crossed the back of the
bonnet met it at the points.
were of lace edge sewed together, with
N0. 1 ribbon run through the centre.
Nearly all these little bonnets have lace
shirrcd in for face trimming; its softness
and itsdead black are universally becom-
ing. One bonnet had a half inch band of jet
around the inside, sparkling through the net

These tics

0 rather high I bei

~.50 and $3.50. :with lace, and
There are
and pas-
patterns, of cutaway
hich are worth

FIOWers, lace and ribbon are the trim-1

and wide h

straw combined with lace
ﬁlled in in front with l
for garniture
d puﬂings of the other side.
ct; this was

upplement.

‘

ng used together. Flowers are also used

indeed one may see all
three, ﬂowers. feathers and lace, on the
same hat. They are faced with lac
plain net or that with an edge w
to give an irregular effect
line of the hat; this lace,
never put on plain,

e, either
his enough
around the out-
if it please you, is
but. is Sllll'l‘Od full. One
at of this description was made of
l lace edge shirred inside and out over a
frame; under a big cluster of
lostrich tips on one side began a fall of
lace cascaded across the crm

A toque that was gay.
enough fora squaw, was of black straw
with the brim covered with shirrcd net: on
this was massed a wreith of vivid scarlet
poppies, large as life, veiled under one
thickness of net; the trimming
sisted of a huge cluster of poppies with a
background of net. At the back, pointing
forward over the crown, was a fan—shaped
arangement of stiff quills. The puppies
were made of silk and were beautiful imi~
tations, but somehow the teque was not :1
success. Large coaching hats are of straw,
,velvet faced, and literal
j long full ostrich plumes.
dude, fresh

in front con-

 

ly covered with
The immacula’e
from his bandbox, who w
inspecting millinery with the air of
noisseur, exclaimed as he twi
these, in gray straw and velve
shading from gray

li‘i

 

 

 

a (Hit:—
l'led one of
t, with plumes
to white, on his fore~

 

shirred over it. A rather gay little bonnet
which, copied in black, would do nicely for
an elderly lady, was trimmed with a large
bow of satin-striped cardinal ribbon, in the
centre of which was a large jet ornament;
the loops were pinned back to the bonnet
with little jet pins. These loops, mind you,
were not standing straight up, as if their
mission were “ to scrape the cobwebs from
the sky,” after a now happily gone-by
fashion, but were arranged to give a broad
effect. Satin-striped ribbons in all colors

 

you know! Then’s when we put on our
spring clothes!”

Bonnets this spring are of the close
capote shapes so long worn, only slightly
modiﬁed. The crowns are lower, but the
bonnets are no larger. The trimmings are
arranged very much lower, so that in ultra
styles they seem quite ﬂat. The favorite
materials are the fancy and open work
straws, and ﬁne braids; a few of the better
quality of rough straws are shown, but are
not in.much request. There is a revival of
the Neapolitan braids which were thought

everything, hats, bonnets and toques.
What’s a toque? W’ell, a sort of com~
promise between a hat and a bonnet; it ﬁts
the head like a hat or turban at the back,
and in front resembles a bonnet; it is worn
Without ties and is one of the mos
and dressy styles for young ladies, being 8
in fact, the intermediate style between
the bonnet and the broad brimmed lace
straw hat.

There isa great variety of large hat
straw, fancy braids and lace. The two p

 

 

so elegant about ﬁfteen years ago; these ’

former are profusely trimmed with plumes,

ribbon and clusters of tips, six or e
cluster. Misses wear pokes, wide
are very pepular. Flowers are seen on h
of the prettiest misses’ hats I have s
perhaps the simplest; a brow
straw, faced with
brown velvet around the cd
series of butterﬂ
t popular ribbon two

tirely surrounding the c
or left side (on whic

where was a cluster
s, in ﬂowers and loops of ribbon.

With a

ﬁnger: “ I do like these coaching hats—-
with a fresh young face under them." And

I wonder if he me

ant to convey a hint to
the [Il/sxr

maiden of some thirty odd
mers who was patiently
after another, a l
which seemed to h
Children’s
rims,

sum-
trying on, one
arge collection, none of
ave been made for her.

hats are quite large; wide
or those narrowing at the back,
which the trimmer pinche

s into various
quaint forms and adorns

with bands of
ight in a
brimmed
ats, or those which roll on one side. One
ecn was
n opcnwork
an inchwide band of
ge inside, and a
. . . l‘
y bows in satin—striped
and one-half inches wide,

St’i Ull
oas to not quite touch

each other, c1:-
rown except on the
h the brim rolled a little)
of brownish-yellow
A navy blue

oke was faced inside with blue velvet

 

clusters of tips and long ostrich plumes

soms for face trimming, and

wreath of palest pink almond blos-
a small cluster

‘ (”malt-21. wn‘ ‘— N'”

vn and down,-

-—, ”c,”
. «,1.-

  
   
  
 
    
   
     
      
 
 
  
    
     
  
    
  
    
  
    
    
   
   
    
     
     
    
   
  
 
   
  
  
  
 
  
  
 
  
   
   
   
  
   
    
   
    
 
    
 
 
 
  
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


   

   

2

THE B (J [ISBJHOLLJ

  

 

 

among the bows that constituted the out-
side trimming.

Blue seems less in favor than usual this
year. Very gay colors are worn and very
much of them. But, except for the young
people, good taste dictates modestly incon-
spicuous hues, especially above those faces
that have lost their freshness, or are plain
though youthful. One of the leading
colors is a very trying shade of green—the
green of a pea-pod, which the milliners use
with quantities of vivid scarlet, a daring
combination somehow suggestive of lobster
salad. Now nature has an inﬁnite variety
of shades of green, and suits the hue of
foliage to the tint of blossoms, every time;
she makes no mistake. And with the yel-
low-green pea~pod she combines the deeper
green of its foliage and the peculiar white,
which seems to have a suspicion of green
about it, of the blossom. BEATRIX.

__.__.,.,___
THAT TRAGEDY.

One of my little misses often amuses her-
self by reading her book through backward,
and .as I think of that tragedy and its
causes I think we are, like her, enjoying (‘3)
it backward. The last chapter up to date
is the trial of a man in the courts for as-
sault with intent to kill. The chapter be-
fore details the crime; a lover shoots his
sweetheart because she will not marry him
as she has promised. Turn back the leaves
and the next chapter is the love chapter,
where she was wooed, loved and promised to
love without intending to fulﬁll the promise.
Why? There can be but one reason, she
wished to have the attentions that loving
young men bestow upon the maidens they
admire. Rides, parties, picnics, lectures,
festivals, operas, are unattainable enjoy-
ments to many girls if a bean does not pro-
vide them. I witnessed the preceding
chapter, and will continue the story back-
wards by telling you about it. Once upon
a time I went calling just before an im-
portant election. Noted speakers were in
the ﬁeld and all were interested, none more
so than the boys and girls. A speech of
unusual interest was to be made that even-
ing. At one house the mother, daughter
and daughter-in-law were planning to go;
butmthe lordly young farmer hitched one
horse to a single buggy and took his wife.
“ The rest did not want (‘2) to go.” Too
much trouble to hitch two horsesto a
double buggy. At the very next house
Mrs. E, a woman of forty, mother of ﬁve
children, was anticipating the pleasure of
hearing that address. Her outings are not
many, and that evening was not one of the
few. Mr. F. drove one horse and took the
hired man. Too much trouble to hitch
up two horses. As the day was closing I
halted at Polly’s just for aword with my
pretty ﬁfteen year old niece, Kate. She
meant to go to the meeting, her father was
going, it was too far for him to walk, he
would have to hitch up. She never had
heard a political speech and she was going.
Her eye was bright and her cheek ﬂushed
with anticipation. .

Well, I missed her and the next day with
angry tears she told me the reason. The
hired girl wanted to ride to the village and

 

that made the little buggy full, and pa
said it was too much trouble to hitch up
two horses, and, added the spirited girl,
“ I’ll ride now with the ﬁrst man that asks
me. I won’t stay at home always; if pa
won’t take me somebody else may.” I
shall never tell the wise words I said to her,
for they had little effect. When neighbor
Smith said to me a few months after, “ I
wonder what makes Kate ride with Jim
Jones so much,” I gave her an evasive
reply but sorrowfully reﬂected on the case.
Jim Jones is old and disagreeable, but he
has a ﬁne team and carriage; and he is
more than willing to hitch them up when-
ever Kate will consent to ride with him;
she need never miss an entertainment if she
will let him escort her. What wonder that
she goes? She is not thinking of marriage,
but only of the day’s enjoyment.

I have solved a mystery. Girls ride and
ﬂirt and try to enjoy the society of young
men in every way their inferiors, because
fathers and brothers ﬁnd it too much
trouble to hitch up two horses. Everybody
marvelled that sweet Alice, with the best
of mothers and most honorable of fathers,
fell into the dark path that led to a sad
death in a far off hospital. I think I un-
derstand it now. In her young days
neither her father or brothers ever hitched
up one horse or two to take her anywhere;
she caughta ride or walked, if she went
to church, singing school or social, until
the inevitable beau appeared. His “rig”
was ﬁne but he was bad, and the story
ended with a broken-hearted mother and
the eminently proper and selﬁsh father and
brothers were disgraced, but they never
suspected why. AUNT PRUDENCE.

 

A WASHINGTON TRIP.

 

I had the pleasure of a trip to Washing-
ton last month, and think perhaps a little
talk on the subject may interest the HOUSE-
HOLD.

Our route was by the Michigan Central
to Buffalo, thence over connecting lines
by way‘of Hornellsville, Elmira, N. Y., to
Waverly, Pa, where we struck the famous
Susquehanna river. Following the course
of the Susquehanna river from.Waverly
the country grows more rugged and
broken, the hills more lofty and precipi-
tous, the mountains in the distance more
clearly deﬁned. At Wilkesbarre we reached
their foot, and a second engine was added
to the train of four palace cars. Then the
mountain climbing commenced, and up we
go, ascending in one direction, then an-
other, through natural gorges or giant cuts,
taking all points of the compass, but al-
ways rising higher. Mountain scenery
was new to us, and its inspiring inﬂuence
was fully felt. Finally we were directed
to look down an open gorge of the moun-
tain, and there at our feet, only three
miles distant, lay the town we had left
sixteen miles back. We were now at the
summit, and leaving our extra engine we
commenced the descent into the valley of
the Lehigh. Down grade we go, and ﬁnd
it more exciting than the rise, as one
realizes the changes more fully. Often the
sharp scur-r-r of the brakes shows the

 

force applied to reduce the speed, and
gives one a vivid realization of what might
be if anything gave way. But when the
foot of the mountains is reached and the
journey along their base begins on the mar—
gin of the rushing, roaring Lehigh, then
the true sensations of the scene force them-
selves on the traveller. Hitherto the ex—
periences have been so constantly changing
that one was carried away by the novelty,
and no time was given to analyze one’s
feelings. But now the mountains tower
above you, sometimes sheer cliffs of jagged
rock, of fantastic colors and formation,
rising thousands of feet, now perpendicular,
now sloping away in broken lines, peak
showing above peak as the outline momen-
tarily changes as you rush along. Some-
times a mountain spur is hewed off to give
room for the double track laid on the
river’s brink, at other times they draw
away leaving a little glen at the foot.
Laurel makes green many slopes, miners’
cabins nestle in the crags, the open pit and
piles of debris mark the location of iron
and coal mines; and everywhere is shown
the charm of nature’s grandeur.

On we go, crossing and recrossing the
river, as the mountains encroach upon or
recede from its brink, following its tor-
tuous windings, looking out of the win-
dows to catch glimpses of the front or rear
of the train, as the sharp curves seem to
double it upon itself; often feeling as if the
cars were running on one wheel, and were
sure to dash into the river, or against the
mountain. So reach after reach of; the
river’s windings open before us, each
seeming more wildly picturesque than the
last, when suddenly we are in cimmerian
darkness, and realize that we are truly
under the mountains. Emerging again,
we notice that the water is dripping from
the car as if we had passed through a
smart shower. This is repeated several
times in the journey, through tunnels of
varying length.

The climax is reached at Mauch Chunk,
known as “the Switzerland of America.”
Here on one side of the stream is the bold
bluff, almost ﬂush with the stream, rising
perpendicularly, frowning and rugged,
away almost it seems beyond sight, while
on the other the heights trend away, mak-
ing an amphitheatre, where a pretty station
house and hotel stand, with a small num-
ber of houses scattered about. The
architecture is simple, as in keeping with
natural surroundings, but there is an in-
congruity in their presence to the tourist.
It seems as if nature were aggrieved by
their presence. We were told that a town
of several thousand inhabitants lay back in
the mountain recesses, but only a little
hamlet was visible. It is a noted summer
resort, and is said to be very healthful,
and must be very pleasant to an admirer of
nature. A cable road known as the
“ switchback ” conveys tourists to the very
top of the mountain, from which the view
is only limited by the power of vision.

So overpowering were the emotions
called up by the grandeur and sublimity
of the enchanting views, that it was with a.
feeling of relief they were left behind and
scenes more commonplace were gladly

 

 

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welcomed. Yet the feelings of admiration
and awe engendered by those scenes are
often renewed by Fancy’s force, and
dreams sometimes bring distorted images
of the same grand creations.

Should any member of the HOUSEHOLD
.visit Washington, I would advise the
Lehigh Valley route, and plan the passage

by daylight. A. L. L.
INGLESIDE.
—-—«4-—-——_—-
ONE WEEK.
(Continued)

No one felt like getting up this morning,
I imagine, for the alarm failed to rouse the
household, and six had come and gone be-
fore the ﬁrst one rose. Work is demoralized
when such a thing occurs, but we did as
well as we could. Bread was mixed,
coffee set on the stove, potatoes chopped
and stewed in cream and butter, sausage
fried, pancakes made and sugar melted for
syrup. The whistle from the mill blew
long and loud, for not a log was on the log-
way to begin sawing. The train brought
up two ﬂat cars for lumber and left them
at the mill, and I suppose when Philander
saw what was to be accomplished, so that
the noon train could take the cars back, he
vowed a vow that not another evening
this whole winter would he be guilty of
“ being up.”

Everything was in a “ muddle ” indoors,
with about one hour and one-half less time
in which to operate. After the bread was
molded into the tins I made two apple-pies
from Greenings—my favorite apple.
While these were baking I made a batch
of doughnuts after Beatrix’s recipe, only I
add two teaspoonfuls of baking powder;
then cream puﬂs were made—our little
folks like them so well. One-half pint of
boiling water, two-thirds teacupful of but-
ter (pack it in close so there will be no less),
when at the boiling point add one and one-
half teacupfuls of sifted ﬂour, when it
\cleaves away'from the pan nicely turn it
into ﬁve well beaten eggs, and incorporate
thoroughly. This should make twenty-
one, dropped in small teaspoonfuls on well
buttered tins. Have the oven hot, allow
about twenty minutes for baking; they
will rise, be uneven all over and entirely
hollow on the inside. Be sure they are
done, else they will fall and be doughy; do
not pile them while hot. For the ﬁlling
take two teacupfuls sweet milk, set in hot
water; into a bowl put one teacup granulat-
ed sugar, yokes of three eggs, tablespoon-
ful cornstarch, mix thoroughly, then
thicken the milk with this, stir and do not
allow it to curdle, only thicken; ﬂavor with
what you like best—-—vanilla is nice—set
away to get cold. Cut a hole in the sidezof
the puff, run the knife half way around,
ﬁll with the custard and lay the top back.
Try them if you don’t believe they are
good.

Now the bread goes into the oven—six
loaves. When this comes out, two tins of
molasses cake go in—made from one of our
HOUSEHOLD recipes. Abasin of beans is
picked over and put cooking, parboiled
with a spoonful of saleratus; when two-
thirds done they are poured into my newJ

bean dish, such as Boston beans are baked
in; it is as high asatwo gallon crock of
grey stone ware, has a handle on, a neck,
and little cover that ﬁts inside. I do not
cook pork with beans this winter, I salt
them, add a little brown sugar, and after
the dinner is on the table, take the upper
grate out of the oven, put in the beans and
there they stay until supper-time, and they
are browned all around the top, sides and
bottom, and are simply delicious. I
should dislike to have this bean jar broken,
I like it so well.

For dinner we will have steamed pota-
toes, beefsteak, cabbage. “ How shall it be
cooked” I asked of the pert miss, half
through her teens, who knows just What
she likes, and how she likes it. “Oh!
cooked with cream and butter, mamma,” so
it is chopped ﬁne, boiled tender in the
granite iron kettle. water drained off,
cream, butter, salt and pepper added, and
dished immediately. I was obliged to cut
the new bread, and two loaves vanished
like snowﬂakes in the river.

I had promised my little boy for a long
time that I would go to school with him, so
as the day was ﬁne and not very cold I got
ready. How vividly my school days
loomed up before me, especially when a
sweet little girl with ﬁaxen hair braided
down her back, passed the water! I was
surprised to learn from the teacher that I
was the only visitor she had had this term,
and it will close next week. That funny
way exists now-a-days of staying at home,
and ﬁnding all manner of fault with the way
our children learn or do not learn. We do
not have sympathy enough for our teachers;
we expect they will do more for our chil-
dren than we do ourselves. While they
will pick up phrases and learn some
naughty actions from playfellows, their
principal habits, behavior, etc., are learned
at home. “Home manners will stick,”
you know. It is quite a trying place———that
of the district school teacher. The Director
thinks that owing to the superiority of his
position his children should have an
abundance of leniency and forbearance
shown them. The Treasurer thinks that
“being as how” he keeps the one thing
needful—money—his boy should be shown
partiality; and the Moderatoﬁsides in with
one or the other, knowing that the majority
rule. The teacher either has no govern-
ment or else has too much; the children
don’t read as they ought, pronounce their
words “ so outlandish,” the long sound of
“o” in dog, or long “ o” in God, log, etc.;
its all newfangled and “they never teached
skewl so when I was a boy.” This thing
will keep growing worse and worse until
there will be a school board composed ex-
clusively of women; and even then, oh dear
ladies, will everything be peaceable and
quiet, on velvet? Let’s help the teacher all
we can, for she has it hard enough. From
nine until twelve, from one until four, a
bustle, hum, buzzing, the same thing over
and over, with an occasional headache,
and innumerable bad feelings; for we are
made of the same material, whether we
earn our bread and butter or do not. Home

 

with a troop of children. Some wrestling,

    
    
     
   
   
    
    
    
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
    
   
  
    
   
  
  
    
  
    
   
   
  
   
   
   
      
    
   
    
  
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
  
    
  
  
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
    
       

THE HOUSEHOLD. 3

some walking sedately, some exercising
their vocal powers with “Chickey, get your
hair out just like mine.”

I felt about ﬁfteen years younger when I
dropped into my home about ﬁve o’clock.
A calico wrapper had been cut in my
absence. Ironing nearly done and our
kitchen treated to its ﬁrst coat 'of paint; its
to be peach-blow this time. Eggs were
hunted by the children, forty-ﬁve in num.
ber. Supper consisted of beans; pressed
beef; mustard; canned tomatoes; baked ap-
ples, warm, with sugar and nutmeg; bread;
molasses cake and yellow cake with fruit
in it; cheese; tea, boiled eggs. As I cleared
away the fragments, which were few, I
wondered if we lived to eat or ate to live,
and fervently hoped that I could bake
through so that no one should starve.
Dishes washed and placed in the cupboard,
potatoes pared for the morning meal, I
played “ Old Maid Cards ” with Raymond
until he was sleepy. The rest were resting
or talking, with the exception of Philander,
who was giving his undivided attention to
a cigar.

(To be continued.)
._.___...______

OUR SUMMER VACATIONS.

About this time of the year the most of
us are called upon to “brace up” to an-
other season of toil. The winter has given
us more or less of leisure; but now come
the hired men, perhaps a girl; chickens,
calves, pails and pails of milk, all of which
bring daily work and care to the farmer’s
wife. In looking forward to the weeks of
toil before us we should make plans for our
vacations. The word may suggest a
traveling outﬁt, the sea-shore; the moun-
tains, and weeks of absence from home;
but these are possible to very few, and ours
must be picked up all along the route of
daily tasks. While our tastes differ as
much as our forms and faces, we have the
common need of something which will
serve as a vacation; it may be a half-hour at
music, a few pages of a book or paper, a
ride, a walk, or a visit with a bed or box of
ﬂowers; but no woman should think for a
moment of walking day after day in the
treadmill of housework without a pause
for one or more of these rests for body and
mind. They need cost nothing but the
time, and that will be more than made up
by the freshness with which we return to
our tasks. Let us say, “Wait” to the
morning work and go out into the dewy
beauty for a ten or twenty minutes’ vaca-
tion, somewhere, somehow. After a busy
forenoon shut the door upon the dinner-
table which represents such chaos and
desolation, and take another. If possible,
ﬁnd a third in the cool evening and drop
the burdens of the day into the calm deep
beauty of the sunset, into the good-night
twitter of a bird, or whisper them to the
moonlit face of Mother Nature, and fall
asleep, feeling that we are her children and
she will care for us.

Any husband worthy the name will re-
joice to see us making the least instead of
the most of our burdens, and so shifting
their weight as to leave some strength for

 

cheerfulness and vivacity. After all, it is

. ,, _..-.-.—..-. .Wwa-M w.”-

  

    


   

‘ in many an unexpected way. We shall

 

 

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... I
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THE-"HOUSEHOLD.

     

 

not so much the essential as the show par-
of our work which wears us out, the
feverish ambition to whiten our clothes-
yard as early on Monday as our neighbor;
the extra polishing; the constant pursuit of
dust, the rufﬂes, the drapings which refuse
to take on grace; the endless trimming
without which we feel instinctively we
must take a back seat among housekeepers.
Let us remember that while housekeeping
is good, homekeeping is better, and self-
keeping is the best of all; for_ unless we
have strength of body and mind how can
we help ourselves or others?

We are familiar with the story of the
man who searched around the world for
Happiness in vain, and returned home to
ﬁnd her smiling in his own doorway. If
we enjoy all we can of each and every day,
,we may make the fair Dame’s acquaintance

'COme to build less and less upon the
vague time when we “are rich,” and per-
haps pity Mrs. Astor, for she can never
realize how sweet a cabbage tastes when
one has watched and tended it from the
seed to the table; or how fair a ﬂower is
when one has fought frosts, bugs, weeds
and drouth for its life.

But don’t forget the vacations. Do not
wait for them until the work is done, but
let the work wait for them just as often

and long as possible. A. H. J.

THOMAS.
-———-—.DO——————

PORK AND THE PORK BARREL.

 

I do not wish to criticise May B.’s article
on the pork barrel, but will try to give you
my idea on that subject. I think the pork
barrel is just as necessary and just as good
economy asthe garden. No doubt many
of my readers are catching their breath
(my husband among the number). Now
let me convince you doubting ones, if I
can, that I am right. If the family is
small, and like ours, eats but little salt
pork, a two hundred pound pig well fatted
will be about the right size; this pig would
have sold last fall for $12 at the highest.
Now how many times could you go to
market with that $12? If you averaged
twenty-ﬁve cents atrip, you could go once
a week for forty-eight weeks, then there
would be four weeks that you could not go
on that $12. You would have no lard,
only what costs you one shilling per pound,
and ten or ﬁfteen pounds are used up so
quickly; forty pounds of lard is a small
amount for a farmer’s family if they are
fond of fried cakes and pies; and forty
pounds represents ﬁve dollars, nearly one
half what that pig brought.

That pig, kept at home, would have fur-
nished at least ﬁfty pounds of such pork
steak and ham as you have paid one shill-
ing a pound for, which amounts to $6.25,
and the roughest part thrown in, which is
good eating when boiled. Then you
would have twenty-ﬁve pounds of spare
ribs; I do not know what the price of these
is, but they are worth a good price to me,
with the tenderloin, and the rest of the back
bone and its thick, white, sweet meat. The
legs, cut off as high up as you wish, you

the side pork and leave until spring; then
put them into some clear cold water after
scraping them white; next morning put to
boil in plenty of water, cook tender; while
hot put into a crock of good vinegar, and
you have a delicious supper dish—so long
as they last.

After the meat is all cut up I go over it,
cutting and trimming it here and there.
rounding the hams and shoulders, putting
the fat trimmed off into a pan to be tried
up for lard, the lean into another for
sausage, and nearly all the thin pieces, those
which are. “ a streak of lean and a streak
of fat ” go into the sausage. I can easily
make twelve or ﬁfteen pounds of sausage;
then all the thinnest pieces of fat, and in
fact all that I think will not be needed as
salt pork goes into lard. This, with the
leaf lard, the chops and what can be got
from the head, will make forty or ﬁfty
pounds of lard, at one shilling per pound,
over ﬁve dollars’ worth.

There will be enough side pork to make
one layer up on edge over the bottom
of the barrel, and I think alittle more.
Now when a boiled dinner is wanted here is
the ﬁrst thing and the foundation in the
cellar “ without money” or time running
to town, and for your baked beans also.
Then when the city visitors come out, no
worry what to get for them, but trip to the
pork barrel, fry the salt pork, make some
delicious cream gravy, and they will be
“ all right” as well as us.

Recapitulating, if we reckon on ﬁfty
pounds in hams and shoulders, twenty—ﬁve
pounds of spare rib, ﬁfteen of sausage and
ﬁfty of lard, and allow twenty pounds for
the legs and all waste, there will remain
forty pounds to class as salt pork. These
ﬁgures are not exact weights, but my esti-
mates according to my best judgment.
Have I convinced you that no farmer’s
cellar should be without a pork barrel?
And is this the only thing in which many
farmers merit the vulgar sounding old
saying of “saving at the spigot and wast—
ing at the bung.” )r. s. H.
ALBION.

 

PICK LING EGGS.

 

One of our correspondents recently in-
quired 110w eggs may be kept through the
summer for sale in the fall. One way, per-
haps the simplest, is to pack them in salt,
and keep them in a cool, dry place. Salt
is very deliquescent, and for the best re—
sults the egg box should be stored in a dry
place.

A process endorsed by the Srz'enz‘zfc
Anm'z‘mn is as follows:

“ Having ﬁlled a clean keg or barrel
with fresh eggs cover them with a cold
solution of salicylic acid water. The eggs
must be kept down by a board ﬂoat on
which rests a weight sufﬁcient to hold it on
top of the eggs, and the top covered over
with a cloth to keep out the dust. If set in
a cool place the eggs will keep fresh for
months. To make the salicylic solution
dissolve a tablespoonful of the acid to each
gallon ofﬁwater :(dissolve the acid ﬁrst in
boiling water); in a clean airy cellar one

 

canthrow into the pork barrel on top of

 

The salicylic acid can be obtained for
about $2 50 to $3 per pound.”

The liming process, as practised by P. H.
Jacobs, 9. well known writer on poultry
matters, is the following: “Take 24' galj
lons of water, put in it twelve pounds ‘un;
slacked lime and four pounds salt. Stir it
well several times a day, then let it stand
and settle until perfectly clear. Then
draw off twenty gallons of the clear liquid.
By putting a spigot in the barrel about
four inches from the bottom you can draw
off the clear liquid and leave the settlings.
Then take ﬁve ounces bi-carbonate of soda,
ﬁve ounces cream of tartar, ﬁve ounces
saltpetre, ﬁve ounces powdered borax and
one ounce powdered alum, mix and dis—
solve in a gallon of boiling water, which
should be poured into your twenty gallons
of lime water. This will ﬁll a whisky bar-
rel about half full and a barrel holds about
200 dozen eggs. Let the water. stand one
inch .above the eggs. Cover with an old
piece of carpet, put a buekctful of? the
settlings over it. Do not let the cloth hang
over the barrel. As the water evapbrates.
add more, as the eggs must. be covered with
the lime mixture.”

»—-——-ooo———-—-——

IF you have an old stone churn or jar, out
of use, you can paint it a bright pink, a dark
red or blue, and while the paint is fresh
throw against it fresh, clean, sharp white
sand. Enough will adhere to the paint to
make a novel and pretty ﬁnish. The ears
and a band around the top and bottom may
be left unpainted, and receive a coat of
gold paint. Thus ornamented the jar is
ready for use as a receptacle for shovel and
tongs, or for the store of grasses and spoils
from the woods gathered in summer.

——-———<vw—————

Contributed Recipes.
ELECTION CAKE—TWO cups sugar; one
cup sweet milk; half cup butter: four eggs;
four cups sifted ﬂour; two teaSpoonfuls
baking powder; one cup nutmeats; one cup
chopped raisins. Flavor to taste; beat a long-
time; bake slow.
Snow CAKE.—-0ne and a half cups sugar;
one cup ﬂour: one teaSpoonful baking pow-
der: whites of ten eggs beaten until stiff.
Flavor with lemon.
WHITE CAKE—Whites of ﬁve eggs: two cups
sugar: half cup butter: one cup sweet milk;
three cups slt‘ted ﬂour: two large teaspoon-
fuis baking powder. Beat ’tbe butter and
sugar to acream, put in the milk, then the
eggs beaten until stiff; add the ﬂour and
baking powder: beat well. Bake in loaf or
layer. It is very nice.
GOLD Cum—One and a half cups sugar;
halt? cup butter; two-thirds cup sweet milk:
yolks of ﬁve eggs; two cups ﬂour; two tea--
spoonfuls baking powder. Flavor With va-
nllla.
MOLASSES Cane—Half cup molasses: half
cup sugar: half cup warm water: one egg;
quarter cup butter: one teaspoonful soda: one
teaspoonful ginger: one and a half cuos ﬂour.
CREAM CAKE—One cup sugar; three eggs;
six tablespoonfuls sweet cream; one cup ﬂour;
two teaspoonfuls baking powder. Bake in
layers. Beat two-thirds cup sweet cream and
half cup sugar until stiff, ﬂavor with vanilla,
spread between the layers and on top.

 

brine is sufﬁcient for three months or more.

   

WaconsrA. LAUREL Vans.

 

