
 

 

   
     
 

 

 

 

 

   

/
W/

i '1 / _ .
,,, If" //aV/’////z'/ , .

   

 
      

 

 

DETROIT, DEC.

15, 1888.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

A TIME.

There comes a time or soon or late,
When every word unkindly spoken
Returns with all the force of fate,
To hear repzooi from spirits broken.
Who slumber in that tranquil rest
Which waking cares no more molest.

Chi were the wealth of worlds our own,
We freely would the treasures yield.

if eyes that here their last have seen,
"if lips in endless silence sealed.

One look of love o‘er us might cast,
Might breathe forgiveness to the past.

When anger arms the thoughtless tongue
To WOUld the fee ings of a friend,
Oh! think ere yet his heart be wrung.
in what remorse thy wrath may end:
Withheld to-day the words 0! hate;

Tomorrow it may be too late.
——;1/10/4.

- -—-——ooo—-——

TEE CHRISTM AS DINNER.

 

" Christmas coniEs. it come“, it comes
Usherid iniwithlhrainagof plums;
Rightits most unthrifty glee,

And pious its mince-piety 1"

Second only in interest and importance
to “What did you get for Christmas?”
comes the question, “What did you have
for dinner?” Christmas, the feast day of
the whole year, and dinner “the event of
the day 2” Ah, what visions of bygone
banquets rise before us as we plan our
Christmas .menu/ holidays when we came
home from school, with ferocious'appetites
whetted by four months’ dalliance at board-
ing-houses where the severe landlady sat in
grim austerity at the head of the table, and
to ask for a second piece of pie was a feat
of daring effrontery. How we made the
good things at home suffer! How the
cookies seemed to dissolve in their own
sugar, and the doughnuts disappeared like
a rich brown mistl how the apple-barrels
lowered before our greedy onslaught, and
how we braved the then unknown dangers
of dyspepsia and lunched on mince pie and
cold chicken after the concert or the spell-
ing-school! What would not some of us
give to bring to the richer, more dainty and
varied tables at which we sit to-day, the
zest of appetite and the sound digestion of
those school-day time:! '

-But the question with the mothers and
housekeepers is one of to-day: “What’s
for dinner” for another set of girls and boys
who come trooping back to the old home-
stead, or the older, blase men and women
of the world who grow young again as they
visit familiar scenes.

A good fat turkey seems the piece de
resistance of every well-regulated holiday

advanced the idea that the turkey, not the
eagle, should have been our national em-
blem. He points out the resemblance of
the fowl to our nation, noisy, pompous,
much given to strutting. waxing belligerent
at the ﬂutter of a red rag, as we are prone
to “bristle up ” whenever there is suspicion
of an insult to our dignity, and a fowl dis—
tinctly American, being indigenous to this
country. But somebody is going to get
hungry before 1 get round to sketch that
bill of fare.-
In planning a dinner of three courses,
soup, of course, comes ﬁrst. We may
have oystersoup as an introduction to more
Substantial viands, or if we propose es—
calloped oysters as an entree, we will have
tomato soup, which is quickly prepared.
And Miss Parloa’s favorite tomato soup re-
quires one quart can of tomatoes; two heap-
ing tablespoonfuls of ﬂour, one teaspoonful
of salt, one of sugar, one of butter and
a pint of hot water. And to make it you
put the water and tomato on to boil, then
rub the ﬂour, butter and a tablespoon ful of
tomato together and stir into the boiling
mixture, add the other ingredients, boil
ﬁfteen minutes and rub through a sieve to
take out the seeds. And to serve with it,
toasted bread cut into dice and put into the
oven till crisp and hard, is nicer than
crackers. One who lives near any of those
sparkling little lakes which dot so many
parts of our State, may introduce here, if
not thought too much for cook and con-
sumer, a ﬁsh course, perch, bass or pickerel,
daintilv browned and served on breakfast
plates with only a slice of yesterday’s
bread as an accompaniment. Then comes
the turkey, if you have him, suppliant upon
a big platter, craving a mercy he won’t get.
Be sure he is well done, and a safe rule is
to allow one hour and three-quarters for an
eight-pound turkey, and ten minutes extra
for every pound above that weight. To get
the bird ready for cooking, a competent
authority gives the following direcrions:
“Wash the fowl quickly in warm soda
water, rinse and rub dry quickly. Fill in
the stuﬁing loosely, then draw the thighs
close to the body and put a long skewer
through the thigh into the body and out
through the opposite thigh. If the incision
be made as directed, the ends of the drum-
sticks may be put through the opening and
out at the vent, and then fastened to the
tail with a skewer or with twine; but if
made in the usual way, cross the drumsticks
over the tail. Turn the tips of the wings
back and keep them in position close to the
body (not up on the breast) by running a
skewer through one wing, under the breast
and out through the other wing. Wind a
string from the tail to the skewer in the
thigh, then up the back to the one in the

then down to the opposite thigh and tie
ﬁrmly at the t ail.

“ Putthe turkey on a rack in a pan, rub
well with the butter, salt and flour. Put
it into a hot oven for ﬁve minutes or until
the ﬂour begins tocolor; then reduce the
heat and add apint of water. Melt one-
quarter cupful butter in a cupful of hot
water and haste with it often, until some
of the fat- of the turkey has been drawn out
into the pan. Baste often, and when halt
done dredge again with ﬂour, to give the
outside a frothy appearance. Cook the
turkey slowly after the ﬁrst slight brown-
ing, and quit ken the tire the last half hour
if the bird be not suﬂicientlv browned.”

A word about the stufﬁng: The inside
ofa loaf of stale bread makes the best. Do
not use any water with it: moisten with but«
ter, season with pepper, salt and sage, and:
if you like, chop a half dozen large oysters,
after removing the livers, and add; the
steam from the bird as it cooks will mois-
ten the dressing a little. If you pack the
stutling in solid, it cannot help but come
out solid; if you use water it will be sticky
and salvy. To make a nice gravy, take the
turk out of the pan, pour off nearly all the
fat, stir acouple of tablespoonfuls of dry
ﬂour into it and scrape off the brown fat
which has adhered to the pan. Let this fat
and flour brown, then add the boiling water
with judgment and caution, stirring con-
stantly, and you will have a smooth brown
gravy, rich, and needing only a little more
salt and the chopped giblets, if you like
them, to ﬁnish it.

Then comes the side dishes, to tempt us
to eat more than is good for us; the scalloped
oysters; the thin slice of juicy roast pork
with its modicum of brown fat and its ac-
companying apple sauce, a delicious dish
worthy Charles Lamb‘s equuent rhapsody;
the canned corn, or the parsnip fritters for
which the roots were boiled and mashed,
seasoned and made into little cakes the day
before, ready to pop into hot lard and get
their yellow complexion changed to a rich
dark brown; the cranberry jelly, the pickles,
the plate of apoplectic light biscuit ; all these
disappear before our onslaught, and by the
time the table is cleared for dessert we are
about ready to give the Dutchman’s famous
receipt: “1 ish full; l wants no more
monesh.”

But a Christmas without ‘mince pie and
plum pudding would not be the Christmas
of our dreams. Anybody can make plum
pudding, but it. takes a culinary artist to
make the ideal mince pie. “Brisins and
spice and everything nice ” must be added
with a free hand, and when you think
you’ve put in a great plenty, put in some
more. And with the dessert comes the

 

 

inner table. Some cynical individual has

   

wing, across the back to the other wing.

coffee, to which whipped cream is thought a


     

"#wiz' ,,. :47

  

  
  
   
    
 
   
 
  
   
    
    
  
   
     
   
    
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
    
   
    
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
      
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
    
   
   
 
  
  

’hWWWW-WF WWW’WW’T! .

.. 3:3-" -.

\ W ' ' ', "séiéésesrqu all

.A -. .17,

,.

  

 

  

   

i aw WW? ‘

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

great addition, and over the nuts and
raisins and oranges, the best part of the
feast to the youngsters, welinger long, chat—
ting cheerily, while “digestion waits on ap-
petite and health on both.”

But- turkey is cheap meat in cities between
Thanksgiving and New Year’s and appears
too often on the bill of fare to be a novelty.
We sympathize with the irrepressible small
boy who shocked his eminently proper
mamma the other day by exclaiming, as he
took rapid note of the contents of his
neighbor’s plate in the act of seating him-
self: “ Turkey again! seems as if we'd had
turkey till I could gobble!" So I should
make up my Christmas menu, for my in-
dividual taste were I able to get up “ warm
meals ” again, somewhat as follows:

' Cream of l‘elery Soup.
Chicken Pie. Roast Pork with stalling.

Scilloped Oysters. Canned Corn.

Mashed Potato. Boiled Beets.

Cranberry Jelly. Cabbage Slaw. Fruit l’lckl s.

Mince Pie. Plum Pudding.
(Joll'cc.

Nuts and- Raisins. Oranges and Grapes.
Christmas is “the glorious time of great

Too-Much,” but I think that’s quite enough

to give anybody a headache next day, don‘t

you? llrzx'rnix.

——«O—-——————

DON’T CROXVD!

“ Don‘t crowd! this world is broad enough

For you as Well as me;

The doors of art are open wide,
The realm of thought is free.

In all earth's plac 5, you are right
To Choose the best you can,

l’rm'ided that you do not try
To crowd some other man."

What a great big world this is, if we only
think about it! What a big country our
United States is, witha frontier of more
than ten thousand miles, with a line of sea
coast of nearly twelve thousand miles! We
have one river that is twice the size of the
Danube, the largest river in Elrope, the
Ohio is six hundred miles longer than the
Rhiu:, the Hudson has a navigation larger
than the Thames. The State of Virginia is
a third larger than England; Ohio is larger
than S:otland; and from Maine to Ohio is
further than from London to Constantino~
pie. And overhanging it. not in one place
but all places, is the same blue sky, the
same glorious sunshine, the same silvery
moonlight, the fresh air, the ﬂeecy clouds,
God's kind provident care for every one.
Generations are born, live out their lives
and die. Eirthquakes, cyclones, ﬂoods,
ﬁres, wipe out whole towns and cities in a
few minutes. The great discoveries made in
New Mexico and Arizona show that over
one thousand years ago people lived there
who were quite advanced in civilization;
their clothing was not made of skins, but of
textile fabrics; they understood irrigation;
canals; reservoirs of the finest masonry are
found. How they lived, what were their
religion and belief, their forms of govern-
ment, can be as accurately told as are the
same things about the old Romans. They
raised pumpkins, corn and beans; they
worked with crude implements, and their
beasts of burden were small. And now
this race is all extinct; with no warning
they were buried and have lain there un-
disturbed for over a thousand years.

lam told that in Carson City men blast-
ing rocks found, a great distance below the
surface of the earth, in solid rock the print
of human feet, the feet of a man, woman and

 

child, the man’s foot was fourteen inches
long; this all goes to prove the vastness of
things we know nothing about. Think of the
years that the vast forests have to lie buried
deep from human vision to become con-
verted into coal beds.

The days we read about were undoubted-
ly centuries, each day a regular age. How
much there is to think about? We could
Spend all our extra time informing our-
selves. One writer says, “Let the news-
papers alone; you will cram your cranium
so full of trash.” My principal reading
comprises newspapers and magazines-—
Dickens, Irving, Hawthorne—all the stand
ard authors, history, ancient and modern—
mythology—Conquest of Mexico, Plutarch’s
Lives, 1 read long ago. Some 1 have for-
gotten, some I never shall forget. We live
fast, we rush through life; we have got to
keep pace with the times, and we never can
unless we read the papers. I often wish I
did not have anything else to do but read
and talk.

There comes a time to us all—when we
pass middle life—our children are grown so
as to take care of themselves and we do not
have to take the brunt of the work as we
once did; we like to shuﬁi ; off that old life
just as we throw aside an old garment, and
take up a different life. There are so many
littlenesses that we once noticed, perhaps,
that now we do not think of at all——:he
idiosyncrasies of people. We shut our eyes
to the bad qualities and let the good over-
balance them. But there are natures that
from childhood to death pick up all the
meanness they can. Some of it really exists,
some is imagined; and from a mere sup-
position it becomes a fact; it is whispered in
corners at socials and tea parties, and a
secret intrusted there comes out much as
an egg would in an incubator, a live
chicken every time. Deliver me from a
conﬁdential friend. 1 have proved one
fact to my satisfaction, if I cannot keep a
secret myself, there is no other woman will,
and so for that reason I never have an in-
timate friend. It don’t pay. And there is
another failing so many indulge in—getting
so righteously indignant that they will not
speak to each other. l’ll speak to a dog, if
he wags his tail at me in recognition. How
can we reasonably expect mercy if we sho v
none. We might as well peer into a dark
glass as to read a man’s inner life; we know
nothing whatever aboutit. Because we do
not like a person, is no sign he is all bad.
Flourish your own cudgel; don’t expect or
ask any one else to ﬂourish it for you. B_—
cause 1 will not buy meat, or groceries or
ﬂour of a certain dealer, must the whole
neighborhood cease patronizing him to
please me? it would look like insanity in
me to expect it of them. Life is too short
to hold grudges; good common sense helps
one amazingly in all these things. If any
one thinks I or mine have wronged them, it
would look far more sensible in them to
come to me for an explanation, than to go to
Tom, Dick and Hirry to had out about it;
they will be more befogged than ever.

Longfellow says one thing that every one
would do well to keep in mind: “ If we
could read the secret history of our enemies
we should find in each man’s life, sorrow
and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.”

   

 

We never portray our own character more
plainly than when ventilating our views re-
garding another’s character. When you
see a person placing himself or herself on a
pedestal of virtue and putting some one
else down for a foot-stool, look out! may be
there is something unsound about them.
If there is anything meritorious about us
others will ﬁnd it out, no need to extol our
own virtues. There are many hearts deeply
engraved by the tongues of malice, with in-
scriptions which time can never erase.
B is no matter how bitter the trouble, there
is evera crumb of comfort along with it.
Birds always pick at the sweetest, fairest
fruits; wasps light on the most beautiful
ﬂowers; and slanderers are very much like
dies, for they overlook all a man’s good
parts and light upon his sores. We need
a great store of charity stowed away in the
heart. Like rose leaves or lavender in a
drawer, all the little daily acts of life would
be sweetened thereby. Charity is the Good ‘
Simaritan of the heart.

There is no connection in life. which is
more satisfactory, which makes troubles and
sorrows more easily endured, than friend—
ship. It is well to consider a long time be-
fore you throw a friend overboard. Don’t
ever be inﬂuenced by hearsay. What looks
to us sometimes a little promiscuous might,
with a good fair showing, come out clean and
whole. Betrayed friendship is the bitterest
draught in the cup of life. Deliver me from
people who are like the chameleon, always
changing their color to correspond with that
of surrounding objects. The most of peo-
ple talk too much. It is written that the
most desirable thing in woman is a soft,
low voice. As far as I am concerned a
woman may have a voice as hoarse and
harsh as a raven; she may talk in a shrill
tone or a low tone, if she will only stop
when she has said enough; if she will choose
her words well, and bear in mind that
“golden silence” that is so expressive. We
all know men who cannot 33in farms or
have line fences; neighbors who will not
speak: brothers and sisters, parents and
children, at sword’s points. It is all
wrong. It was never intended that we
should hold grudges. Supposing a man of
our acquaintance talks or walks a little
more than we think he oug ht to with some-
body else’s wife, docs it concern us‘.’ Sup-
posing a man owes a big debt; if he
pays it himself and don’t ask ‘iis friends to
do it, it certainly is not our business. Let
us keep our own house swept and garnished,
our door yard free from garbage, and then
inquire within. Perhaps we have been so
interested about our neighbor’s record that
we have entirely neglected our own, and
while his may come out fair and perfect,
ours will be entirely deﬁcient in goodness.
5-) don’tcrowd, there is room plenty for
everybody, and to get a living if so in-
clined, plenty of fresh air if we will only
get out and inhale it; and there is lots of
goodness in everybody if we have only a
mind to see it.

*- Don‘t crowd the good from out your heart

By fosteri: g all that’s bad;

But give to every virtue room,
The best that may be had,

Be each day‘s record such an one
That you may well be proud,

Give each his right, give each his room,
And never try to crowd."

EVANGBLISE.

BATTLE CREEK.

 


 

    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
   
   
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
   

PERSONAL CLEANLINESS.

 

I suppose there is always room for one
more in this HOUSEHOLD; so here I am,
waiting to introduce myself.

I’m Polly, for the nonce; yes, "Polly put
the kettle on and we’ll all take tea;” how
delightfully easy it is to gossip over a good
cup of tea! Now I’ll tell you something
very priVately if you will all promise to
never speak of it to any living person; its
about that young man who worked for us
quite a time this fall. The one who dressed
up so slick in his light colored, stylish suit
and plug hat? Yes, that’s the one; well, he
was the worst smelling person who ever
came near me; it makes me sick now to
think of that unwashed person and clothes.
I could not make out whether his shirt was
a drab coler originally, or had become that
color from long use and no acquaintance
with soap or water; he must be kin to the
woman an Iowa doctor tells of, one of his
patients. He recommended bathing; she
told him she did take a bath once and
she caught cold, and she should not do so
any more; he said he guessed she hadn’t.

Now what are decent people to do when
help is scarce, and they are obliged to ac-
cept just such as they can get? Must they
sit at table with them? Eating was out of the
question; I could not eat a morsel from any
dish that stood on the table while he was in
the room, with all the outside air to be had.
My husband says my nose is too sharp; be
that as it may, if there had been nothing to
smell, it would not have smelled it.

Hired men are not all ﬁlthy about their
person or clothes, nor are there more of
them than of girls, and I do not know as
their proportion is greater than of their em-
ployers. How many times I have passed
by men and smelled their sweatcd ﬂannel.

lady in business in town was giving
me a little of her experience; her expression
was, “It’s dreadful.”

Now if there is one man, woman, boy or
girl who does not keep themselves clean,
and change their underclothing at least once
aweek, just say to yourselves, that Polly
woman has “scented” me out; you do not

now how near you she comes every few
days, and you are the one she’s "hintin’
on.”

There is a story going the “rounds of the
press,” of a lady missionary who converted
a whole neighborhood by inducing the
people to wash themselves. Why should it
not be true? John Wesley preached that
cleanliness was next to godliness. 1
have heard it asserted that what ailed the
man that Jesus sent “ to bathe three times
in the river Jordon,” was ﬁlth, or a disease
of the skin caused by ﬁlth, and he also com-
mands us “be ye clean,” and isn’t one
command as necessary to be obeyed as an-
other?

A physiologist tells us that where the
skin acts in a healthy manner, there is
over two pounds or pints of ﬂuid excrement
thrown from the pores of the skin every
twenty-four hours. Just think how much
of this is retained in the clothing during
one week! Some one no doubt is saying,
“That woman is a crank, I’m glad she
doesn't live near me;” she does “all the

THE HOUSEHOLD.

prefers to be a fresh air, clothes and water
crank, than one you can "scent from afar.”

Isn’t there a law against nuisances under
people’s noses; I‘d like to see it enforced in
a few instances. I think it might be more
eliicacious than John Wesley’s preaching
or Bible commands. I do not wish to wear
your patience all out the ﬁrst time I come,

so I will bid you good afternoon.

FULLY,
WW

CHAT.

iIuldah Perkins asks if we are ashamed
of economy, so I will tell what I saw ata
neighbor’s that I think is a real economy.
Calling one morning my friend told me she
had been making horse blankets. ()r‘
courseI said, "What under the sun did
you make them of?” She said, "I will
show you," and brought out- a pair of nice
comfortable blankets made of hemp carpet-
ing lined throughout with factory, two
breadzhs of the carpeting stitched in a flat
seam through the center, then the lining
stitched down around the edge, then
stitched once both ways across the center;
and with a strap and buckle they were com—
plete, at a cost of $1.60, and I am quite sure
they will outlast two pair of cheap blankets
at twice the cost. At any rate our horses
will soon be dressed up in some.

Icould have told I}. L. Nye. years and
years ago, that a small spoonful of ﬂour was
equivalent to an egg in pumpkin pies.

I think carpet rags crocheted with a large
hook make nice serviceable rugs; they may
be made of hit and miss, striped, round,
oblong, square, six or eight square, or any
shape to suit the taste.

I once read the reason why a person who
was lost in the woods always traveled in a
circle, was because he always stepped
further with the right foot than with the
left, when wandering at random.

I hope we will hear from Ella R. Wood
again. It is a mystery to me how a library
can be carried on in a separate building in
the country; tell us all about it, Etla. After
reading her letter I Wondered if the peo-
ple in that vicinity would think that par-
ticular society were assuming a name of

were they to call themselves a Library
Society. In my opinion a Library Associa—
tion may be properly called a Literary
Saciety, but of course a Literary Society is
not necessarily a Library Association. As
this is a disputed question in this neighbor-
hood, I would like the Opinion of all who
will kindly give it, and oblige

Pnamwnini. BESS.

 

oo>—————-—'

Tun HOUSEHOLD is now being sent to
every one whose name is on our subscrip-
tion lists, no matter whether they subscrib-
ed for it or not, Several persons who have
not been receiving it heretofore, have writ-
ten they did not know a supplement was
published with the Famrnn. Sorry for all
they have missed by not getting it. The
HOUSEHOLD hereafter goes wherever the
Famrnn goes, at a dollar a» year for both——
“cheaper than going without.” Help your
neighbors to a good thing by inducing them
to subscribe. Our readers can have sample
copies sent to their friends by sending us

 

same,” let me assure you; and she much

their names.

which they did not know the meaning, ,

THE CHRISTMAS TREE .

 

' For nearly a year the MIL'IllhrLV rimming
has been a weekly visitor at our house. and
a welcome one too, but never until the
number dated Dec. lst has it been accom-
panied by the HOL'\'tillul.l;. Now I Lam:
taken quite a fancy to the little paper. and
am much interested in the. hints on (Parish
mas gifts. I would like to tell how to knit
wristlets with pointed edge, the prettiest I
ever saw. Set up like a stocking, any nunr»
ber of stitches divisible by ten. It takes
ten stitches for each point. Make one
stitch, knit three, slip one. narrow, pass the
slipped stitch over the narrowed one. knit
three, make one, knit one. Itepeat round
and round, until as long as you desire; bind
off the edge, and you will have a wristlet,
both edges of which are ﬁnished in points.
They are pretty, whether knit of one or
two colors, or all the colors of the rain-how.

I hope to see the next Hor'snuorm in
which we are promised hints for Christmas
presents for the little ones, a subjw'. in
which I am much interested just now.

We eXpect to have a family tree the
coming Christmas, and would be glad to
learn how to please our little ones. Tum
who wish to have a tree without much ex
pense can cut the candle holders out of ap-
ples, potatoes, etc., and fruit, popcorn halls
and popcorn strung on threads, and ﬁes-
tooned am mg the branches will be quite are
addition. The ﬁrst Christmas tree I ever
saw was a common forest tree; I think ir.
was a young sycamore, with holes hcrei i:
the trunk and extra limbs added.

This, decorated in the above manner.
and ﬁlled with useful and beautiiui
presents, was a very pleasing sight to us
youngsters. The tree was at our schools
house, and was as tall as could convenien:-
ly stand under the ceiling. The miniature
set of china which the tree bore for me.
forms even now a precious keepsake and:
memento of my childhood.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas
Iam Mus. CLARA'A. Bun. is.

THE uni-.1:
—————-—’9§—————

SWEET-BRIER.

I have j‘lu‘t read that brief story wherein
the “sweet—brier” seem; to ﬂourish every-
where and under all conditions, even an fer
the window of a new house. and it remiuis
me of my own experience with the shrub.
I have always admired it, and years ago
dreamed of a large bush near my kitchen
door to drydish towels upon, imagining that
its delicious fragrance might instill a bit or
poetry into that prosy tri-daily act of ours—-—
dish-washing. I gave a small boy a quarter
to bring me the ﬁrst root. It died. The
next spring, I dug another from the way-
side, brought it home in my baby-cab, and
set it out carefully; it only followed it:
predecessor to an early grave; while the ex-
istence of a third root promised to be equally
brief; so late last fall I gave up my dream
of the fragrant dish-towel, and just dug
the pining specimen up and “chucked ” it
down by the fence, where all summer it has
battled with the grass, weeds and bugs and
appeared to enjoy the situation, and I hope

 

it may be large enough some day to dry
Josiah’s socks on. I see great swete_e_bri

   
  
   
  
  
 
  


4:

THE HOUSEHOLD.

  

 

clinging to the tops of a gravel hill with
half their roots exposed; I pass them
crowded under fence and rozk. ﬁlling the
air with incomparable fragrance; but can
not coax them to grow anywhere near me.
Can any one explain, without disagreeable
suggestion? a. h. J.

THOMAS.
——-——¢oo———-

HOLIDAY HINTS.

 

A novel and rather pretty pincushion for
the toilet table is made as follows: Cut
two circles out of satin, sateen, or any
material you prefer, stuff with cotton and
draw down in the centre like buttoned fur-
niture. Take a length of oriental lace
which is wide enough to cover at least half
the diameter, gather it full to the centre.
and cover the centre with a cluster of loops
of narrow ribbon to match the color of the
cushion.

A bag for soiled cuffs and collars can be
made out of a fancy Turkish towel costing
twenty-ﬁve cents. Double the towel and
overhand the edges together to within four
inches of the top, not including the fringe.
These ﬂaps are then turned over so as to
make a lambrcqnin, and a line of stitching
made about a third of an inch from the top,
thus forming a hem in which to place the
drawstrings.

The housekeeper will appreciate a case
for her spare knives. Cut a piece of colored
canton ﬂannel as long as you think will be
needed. Measure about twice and a half
the length of your knives and hem both
edges. Double it up from the bottom nearly
as deep as a knife, and stitch in rows about
an inch apart, or so a knife will slip in
easily. If that makes more places than you

wish for knives, you can make some of the
spaces two inches apart to put in table-
spoons; sew three or four brass or steel
rings to the top and screw into the door as
many brass or steel books, such as you can
purchase at a hardware store and hang up.
Make acase for forks in the same way,
only not quite as deep. One made of. drab
canton ﬂannel feather-stitched across the
hems with red is very pretty and does not
easily become soiled. Another may be
made of unbleached canton ﬂannel ornad
mented with a vine worked with blue em-
broidery cotton. These cases may be
rolled up and tied with pieces of dress
braid the color of the feather stitching.

The newest chair cushions consist of two,
connected together, and intended as rests
for the back of the chair. One displayed in
the window of a fancy store here was made
of ﬁgured ”velvet, a deep maroon ground
ﬁgured with autumn leaves. The lower and
larger cushion was perhaps twelve inches
long and eight inches wide, after being
made, the upper and smaller was the same
length but not more than ﬁve and a half
inches wide. Small brass rings had been
covered with crochet in silk. and sewed to
one edge of each cushion, and a cord pass-
ing through the rings laced the cushions to-
gether. Ribbons were added to attach the
cushion to the chair, and two full bows.
one at one corner of the upper cushion, and
the other at the lower corner of the other.

Another in the same style was made of.
cream velvet with pink roses and buds, and

can of course be copied in cheaper material.
Very pretty square workboxes are made
of pasteboard covered with any desired
material. The sides of a suitable box are cut
on the corners down to the bottom, so that
the box can be spread out ﬂat, lining and
outside are neatly overhanded together and
the lining tacked through the bend between
sides and bottom to hold it in place. The
corners are then tied with ribbons, which
may be untied if one wishes to "pack the
box in a trunk.

There was a “bag sale” in this city a
few days ago, at which bags of every con-
ceivable size, shape and material, for every
purpose imaginable and some beyond im-
agination, were disposed of for the beneﬁt
of a local charity. But the prices were
something astonishing, even for “ sweet
charity’s sake.” A cretonne duster bag was
valued at $2, and from thence up to at; arid
$5 and above for party bags, opera bags, etc.
The most novel thing about the sale was an
orange tree in full fruit, not an import-a-
tion from Florida, but a Northern evergreen,
hearing as fruit sachets resembling oranges
which sold for a dollar apiece. These
sachets were really quite pretty; cut out of
orange-colored satin, after the fashion in
which balls were formerly covered—one
piece cut in gores and sewed up—the seams
were overhanded neatly, the orange turned,
and ﬁlled with cotton sprinkled with sachet
powder. A loop of ribbon inserted where
the gores met served to hang it up by. The
satin had, I think, a lining of paper. Simi-
lar “ oranges” could be put to a variety of
uses, they would make novel pincushions,
and ﬁlled with candies, would help decor-
ate a Christmas tree, while a charming sur-
prise might be arranged by hiding a s nail
gift, as a piece of jewelry, in this odorous
nest.

A quaint pincushion is made by dress-
ing a doll in Quaker costume, a deep bon-
net, a plain gray satin dress and a little
white kerchief demurely crossed in front.
Szuff the skirt lightly “with cotton, tack to a
pastsboard foundation, and you have a
prim little ﬁgure whose skirts you can
pierce with pins with impunity.

A unique penwiper included in the holi-
day stock of one of our stores, was a large
pen cut oat of celluloid, with four or ﬁve
similarly-shaped pieces of chamois fastened
inside to wipe the pen upon; a little Spray
of blossoms ornamented the upper part of
the pen, which was perhaps six inches long
and made to hang up. Another style is
made as follows: Cut twelve circles three
inches in diameter out of cloth or felt, in
shades of one color or in contrasting shades.
Edge each one with beads; this is done by
overseaming the edge with silk and thread-
ing six beads for each stitch; fold the circles
into quarters and sew them ﬁrmly together
at the centres to form a ball.

 

a...“

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

 

ONE of the nicest ways to cook potatoes
for supper is to para and slice them, put
them into a baking dish with bits of butter
interspersed, and a little salt, ﬁll the dish
with sweet milk, cover, and bake a couple

Just

top brown nicely. Serve in the dish they
were baked in, folding a napkin around it
to conceal it.

Tun economical manager can make pads
to put under stair carpets out of pieces of
old carpet. They should be cut almost as
long as the stair carpet is wide, and wide
enough to cover the stair and extend a lit-
tle over the front edge. Put two thick-
nesses together, and bind them with drill-
ing. A set will last a long time and save a
great deal of wear on the carpet, and also
much noise.

IT is just as well to remember that though
milk is very nutritious, being in truth a
complete food, there are many persons who
ought not to drink itas a beverage. In a
person of sedentary habits, or one who suf-
fers from constipation, it induces a bilious
condition which aggravates the trouble.
Any adult person who adopts milk as a
beverage, should either stir a small pinch
of salt into each glass of. milk, or add a.
fourth of its bulk of seltzer water.

——————-—OO*——'——

Useful Recipes.

 

Minor; Mean—To each pound of beef, af-
ter it is boiled and chopped, allow two pounds
chopped apples, half pound beef suet, also
chopped; one pound each of seeded and
chopped raisins and currants, half apound
of citron sliced very thin; one pound brown
sugar; the juice and grated rind of two lem-
one; half a nutmeg: a teaspoonful each of
cinnamon and cloves, and enough boiled
older to moisten. When these ingredients
are well mixed, put the whole in a preserving
kettle and cook slowly until the apples are
soft.

FANCY APPLE Sworn—Take apples havmg
a red skin—the \Vinesap;and the Jonathan
are excellent—wash them carefully before
paring, and keep the parings and 1cores sep-
arate. After puttlng the quarters {into the
steWpan add to them one tablespoonful of
cider for every two apples; if older is not to
be had take the same amount of water. In-
stead of covering them with a tin lay over
them their parings, and stew over a gentle
ﬁre. Upon removing the parings you will ~
find the pulp beneath tinted a delicate pink.
Beat it up. add a little butter and enough
powdered sugar to sweeten, turn into a dish,
and over the top sprinklc cinnamon and
powdered sugar.

MINCE Milan—4):“: cup 0: chopped meat;
one and a half cups raisins; one and a half
cups currents: one and a half cups brown
sugar; one-third cup molasses, or one cup
granulated sugar; three cups chopped ap-
ples: one cup meat liquor; two tablespoonfuls
salt; two tablesmonfuls cinnamon: half table.
spoonful mace; half tablespoonful powdered
cloves; one lemon, grated rind and juice;
one quarter piece of citron; onequaiter cup-
ful brandy; one-quarter cupfui of wine:
three teaspoonfuis rosewatcr. This makes
about three quarts. Mix in the order given,
and make it quite moist with the meat liquor.
If you do not wish to use wine or brandy, use
one cup cider and one of sweet pickle vine-
gar. Cook till the raisins and apples are soft.
If you like a highly—ﬂavored mince, add more
spice. If it seems to “lack something," add
salt; this brings out the other ﬂavors—Good

 

of hours in a moderately hot oven.

 

was very dainty and delicate. This style

    

before they are done, uncover, and let the

Housekeeping.

 

