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THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

COMMENCEMENT ESSAYS.

 

l heard the essays. That one on

“ The Magna Charts and King John."
The head girl wrote. She with the wreath
Described Lear’s wandering on the heath
Quite prettily. Another one

Explained " ‘I‘he spots upon the sun."

“ The Inﬂuence of Browning." and

“ The early writings of George Baum"

“ The Transcendental Movement: How
It Touches German Letters Now”—

All these I sadly listened to.

“ What earthly good can these things do?"
I asked myself: “ Does old King John
Teach you to sew a patch upon

A ooat?—or can the spotted sun

Say when the roast is rarely done?

Do Browning’s tangled poems tell

The way to mend a stocking well?

While I was wondering sadly there.

A sweet girl rose, and I declare,

She talked about the homely things
From washtubs down to muﬁin ringsf
She had ten pages all on pie.

She knew the choicest way to fry

An oyster. and how best to bake

A good old-fashioned Johnny cake.

Next day the girl was asked to share

The fortunes of a millionaire:

She now reads Browning's wonderoue books.
And leaves the cooking to her cooks.

The girl who wrote on Browning's work
Is married to a dry goods clerk
Whose inceme’s small. No girl have they.
She scrubs and cooks the livelong day.
And sighs while bending o’er the range,
When she reﬂects upon the change—
The fall from school snblimities
To tattered books of recipes.
—Sprinoﬂeld (Mass . ) Graphic.

 

AN AFTERNOON TEA.

 

Here’s a little lady who is ambitious
to entertain some of her young friends
at afternoon tea, and asks help from the
HOUSEHOLD, saving: “The magazines
to which one naturally looks for help
in such things seem to write only for
those ‘ way up’ in social life, and are
no aid to those who cannot have things
in ‘footman style.’ ’7 So the HOUSE-
HOLD comes to the rescue.

white baby ribbon, have white cakes
with white icing, choose veal and
chicken for your meats, and have white
candies and white favors; if yellow,
there’s salmon salad, orange and gold
cake, sponge cake with the ice cream,
which can be made to tint toward
yellow by using eggs with dark yolks;
your favors could be yellow satin
oranges ﬁlled with- yellow candy, and
there’s great decorative virtue in the
yellow oxeye daisy of the ﬁelds, as well
as incoreopsis and calendula. But you
can have a very nice tea without ex-
pressing a preference for any color, you
know.

Do not try to have too much. Sand-
wiches, a salad, pressed chicken or veal
loaf, fresh fruit with cream—you can
fall back on the blessed, ever-with-us
banana if you cannot get berries—and a
couple of kinds of cake are enough,
with the ice-cream and the white cake
you will reserve to serve with it. To
make nice sandwiches you must have
light, white, ﬁne—grained bread; slice
it thinly, spread it lightly with the
sweetest and best of butter and then
with a teaspoonful of whatever you
elect to use as “ﬁllin’,” and with a very
sharp knife cut them into square or
oblong shapes, removing every bit of
crust. Tie them with No. 1 ribbon of
the color you prefer, and for a table of
twenty guests have aplate of them at
each end of the table——not too many on
a plate either, it is better to have the
supply replenished. You can use
tongue instead of ham, and either
should be prepared in this fashion:
Boil and cut off all the dark and hard
bits; when perfectly cold, chop very
ﬁne (see that about one-quarter of the
bulk is fat), almost to a paste. To a
pint bowlful of this (after it is ch0pped),
mix thoroughly together one even
tablespoouful of sugar, one even tea-
spoonful of ground mustard and one

 

For an afternoon tea, set the tables
with your nicest napery and your .
prettiest dishes—~but that goes without '
saying. It is very nice t9 select some ;;
particular color, and let that give the 5
tone to decorations, etc. If you have a i
pretty pink or blue or yellow dress, or 3
wish to wear a white one, let every-
thing correspond with it as far as pos-
sible. Suppose you electto wear white;
if your tea service is white, you have a

good beginning. Use white ﬂowers on
your table, tie your sandwiches with

saltspoonful of cayenne pepper, into
this stir slowly one small teacupful of
good vinegar, stir this thoroughly
through the meat, until it is well
mixed with it. This will keep a couple
of days in acool place if packed in a
dish and the top covered with melted
butter. Pressed chicken or veal loaf
would be much nicer than fried or
baked fowl, which belongs more prop-
erlyto “high teas.”

Iced tea should be served in tumblers,

which are not ﬁlled until the guests
are seated; to serve the tea is ﬁrst on
the programme. You can place the
tumblers at each plate and have them
ﬁlled from a pitcher, but it is nicer to
ﬁll at and serve from a small table; then
the waitress can see that each glass has
a tablespoonful of cracked ice in it. The
tea should be very cold with ice, and
not have been steeped so long as to be
bitter. But I think I should serve
lemonade instead of tea.

The salad, decorated with slices of
lemon (and tiny sprigs of parsley if you
can get it), is served on a large platter,
which is taken from its place on the
table by the waitress and passed to
each guest, who helps herself. After
the sandwiches, salad and meats have
been discussed, the waitress may re-
move the plates and bring on another
set for the fruit and cake. But don’t
try this unless you have plates enough
so none need be washed while your
guests wait. Almost any crockery
store will rent or loan any dishes you
may lack. The plates should be re-
moved before the ﬁnal course of ice-
cream and angels’ food or maccaroons,
and the salad and meats also. Forks
must be supplied for the salad, of
course; and two teaspoons for the fruit
and cream. And the hostess should not
wear a tea gown.

About the favors, there 15 won an
inﬁnite variety from which to choose I
can hardly help you there, for I don’t
know what you can get or what you can
make. Tiny baskets ﬁlled with flowers
or bonbons; little pails which you have
gilded or painted ditto; satin reticules
decorated with ﬂower sprays; palm-leaf
fans with either real or painted blos-
soms; banners of silk muslin backed
with white ribbons bearing fancy heads
or ﬂowers—there are such lots of things
used for the purpose, but whatever is

chosen should bear the name of the

recipient and the date. A tennis
racquet would be appropriate, and a
cluster of ﬂowers could be tied to it
with a bow of ribbon bearing date, etc.
I saw a pretty favor, souvenir of such
an occasion, not long since. It was
made of what I think artists call water-
color paper—at least it was rough—sur-
faced and moderately stiff, and had
been in some way folded so that one
side formed a square and the other side

 

four smaller squares meeting in the

  

. . 2.x... . Qua-.." ,.. ..m..u.s..wwww»w

 

 
     

 


 

2

    

The Household.

 

 

centre. The edges were then made to
look as if the paper had been torn, and
gilded, the gold being put on to pro-
duce a shaded effect, and combined
with a beautiful shade of mauve. The
smaller squares were thus colored, and
when the paper was pulled out it formed
a pretty basket form, in which mottoes
and bonbons had been placed. Name
and date were in gold lettering inside.

Don’t hurry your tea. People are ex-
pected to linger over the repast in
pleasant chat. Have plenty of every-
thing, but not too much upon the table
at once. Don’t get nervous yourself,
because that will make your friends
uncomfortable; and if anything goes
wrong take no notice-make believe
you meant to have it that way~or~if it
west be noticed, laugh it off. If you
have a good girl who doesn’t get
ﬁurried, and tell her just how you want
things, and if you do not get hurried
yourself, you will have a delightful
time—and though I‘d be a pretty old
" girl,” I wouldn’t. mind if I was “ in it.”

BEATBIX.

TRUE COUR AGE.

 

When Jennie L. married the young
doctor and settled in a small village,
with the houses far apart, we thought
she would suffer not only from loneli-
ness in the day time, but from nervous
fear at night, for her husband was
often gone from sunset to sunrise, and
she had been one of a large family in
her own town, and rarely alone. But
Jennie loved her doctor, and as she
said, “I have married him, country
practice and all, and must make the
best of it.” The doctor taught her how
to make bandages and apply them, and
many other things as regards simple
surgery, for as he told her. “There is
no telling what good you may do by
knowing these things." And sure
enough, her courage and knowing
what to do in an emergency saved a lifea

The doctor had gone off on a long
round and would not be back until late
in the evening. Jennie had ﬁnished
her dinner dishes, put on her prettiest
calico, and with a book was resting in
the hammock, when she saw several
rough men come up the walk bearing a
third man, so limp and white she
thought he was a corpse. They laid
Rim down before her, and asked
“Where is the doctor? ” She told them
he was away. “When will he be
back? ” “ Not till late in the evening.”
“ Then we might as _well leave Mike to
die where he is, for he wont live to
take him over to old doctor Smith’s,
ﬁve miles off, and look at the blood of
him running off your piazza, miss!”
Sure enough there was a small stream
that made poor Jennie turn pale. But
something must 'be done. and that
quickly. so she said as quietly as she
could: “Well, boys. bring him into
the house, put him on the lounge, and
with your help I will do what I can."

  

“You are a brick, sure ma’am,” said
the spokesman of the party, and -whilc
Jennie went to ﬁnd a roll of bandages
they brought him in and laid him on
the lounge. Under Jennie’s direction
his coat and shirt were carefully cut
off. and the bloody wound in the
shoulder and arm laid bare. The
blood was sponged oﬁ', and carefully
the bandage was put on, the men
helping in every way. They were
rough, had joined in many a drunken
ﬁght, and this was the way Mike had
received his wound. But the sight of
this brave. true-hearted little woman,
so earnestly trying to do her best for
the poor man, so struck to their hearts
that Larry voiced the opinion of the
rest when he said “ She was as good as
gold. And she was a doctor every inch
of her.” The blood was staunched,
and Mike was coming to when the
doctor, having ﬁnished his round sooner
than he expected, drove up to the door.
Examining the bandage, he declared
“it was just right," and said her
courage and skill had saved the man
from bleeding to death. And as the
boys drove off with Mike carefully
placed in the bottom of a wagon, he
said, ".Well done, little woman! you
saved a life today."

DETROIT. SI STER GRAC IOUS.

 

FLOWERS IN THE WINDOWS.

 

I have just read about the window‘

box that Beatrix enjoys—I can guess
how much—and if I can “hit the
mark” guessing where the trouble is
about the fuchsia buds, I shall be very
glad. If I could but see the plants a
moment! I am a little suspicious of
spider. When the sun shines among
the branches take your pencil and pass
among the leaves and stems and see if
the least bit of ﬁne web adheres; if so,
you will know something made it. If
the spider is too small to be seen with
the naked eye, he is large enough for
mischief. We often get these extras
thrown in when buying plants; they
are the torment of the ﬂower grower in
a warm crowded house. Fuchsias do
better potted alone. It is nice to have
a bracket, as fuchsias require light and
air, though not partial to direct sun-
shine. It can then be turned away
from the heat that the heliotrope
glories in.

I don’t want to tear that window-box
all to pieces, but I would take out the
rose geranium. They always need
handling and dressing to dislodge aphis.
If there are signs of spider among the
plants there is no remedy but careful
washing and removing all sickly leaves.
Do not tuck them in the soil as often
recommended, and if it does not im-
prove, shade that plant in some way
from the midday heat. You can dis-
lodge aphis with pyrethum; cover the
plants and blow it among them, and in-
stead of killing a few at a time you will

 

vanquish a regiment by stupefying them.

Pyrethrum is preferable. to tobacco
fumes, Aphides are said to increase at
a most wonderful rate. and prefer soft,
young or fragrant plants; they suck
away the juices until all vitality is
gone. I battled with black aphis on
the cherry trees this spring with
kerosene emulsion, one applicationwas
sufﬁcient. I am for war to the knife
with insects. Perhaps it is wicked, for
I could not make more, as they told me
in childhood; however I have thor-
oughly treated trees, shrubs and vines
with Paris green, hellebore, pyrethrum
and kerosene emulsion until everything
has been dosed with its own particular
remedy, and I think to advantage from
present appearances. I never saw the
green aphides riot in apple orchards as
they do now. They are the cause of so
much dropping of fruit I think.

Sweet Alyssum and a small Impatiens
Sultam' may take the place of those
you remove from the box, and would. I

think, please you.

FENTON. MRS. M. A. FULLER.

 

ICE CREAM FOR COUNTRY FOLKS.

 

Seeing the article in a recent HOUSE-
HOLD on “Ice Cream and Ices,"
prompts me to tell a much easier way
of furnishing that truly delicious hot
weather dainty, than the old and
laborious way of cooking the mixture
before freezing.

In the country where cream is plenty,
ice cream should be a frequent dish
for dessert, or served with cake for tea
these hot days. With plenty of ice it
can be made in ashort time, yes, al-
most within the “ten minutes” the
freezer manufacturers advertise.

We never have any trouble in mak-
ing delicious ice cream in the following
manner: Take two quarts of pure
cream. Cream raised in a creamery is
superior to that raised in pans, as it is
thin and perfectly smooth. Sweeten to
taste, ﬂavor and pour into the freezer.
No cooking is necessary, and eggs are
not needed except in winter to color the
cream. Have ice ﬁnely chopped, or
crushed. and use with salt in the pro-
portion of two parts ice to one of salt.
More salt will do no harm; indeed,
nearly half and half, as the more salt
used the quicker will be the freezing,
and perhaps, who knows, but all salt
would freeze it.

Pound the salt and ice well together
in alternate layers and turn the crank
vigorously until stiff enough. then

take out the beater and let stand to
harden, ﬁlling up with ice around the
cream. Cream can be very nicely
frozen in a small tin pail or can placed
in a larger pail and packed in the
same way, stirring occasionally with a
thin bladed knife to keep the frozen
cream from the sides of the tin.

The above quantity makes a gallon
after it is frozen, as it swells in freezing
by the constant stirring.

Chopped pineapple makes a delicious
addition to vanilla ice cream. Serve
in small dishes, instead of freezing it
with the cream. as all may not like it.

 

FLINT. ELLA R. WO0D_

 

 


   

 

 

The Household.

3

 

SENSE.

 

A call in a recent issue of the
HOUSEHOLD for “ Less sentiment and
more sense" seems almost like a per-
sonal appeal, and I come right forward,
promptly and cheerfully, bringing all
that I can spare. (I have to keep con-
siderable for home consumption, re-
membering that “charity begins at
home”) I feel under the more obliga-
tion to contribute, having so lately
been the recipient of a generous supply
of this very necessary article from the
HOUSEHOLD—in fact. have had my
head well ﬁlled, and of the surplus—
what run over—I willingly offer.

Had the call been for dollars and
cents, I might not be able to respond,
but when it is for sense—~just “com-
mon sense ”—the call I cannot refuse,
and I feel more like giving and being
generous, now that housecleaning is
over, and home is once more “Home,
sweet home,” and I can sleep peace-
fully without dreaming that I am at-
tending church and wearinga length
of stove-pipe for a necktie.

But to my subject, “Sense? 1' am
almost astonished when I try to realize
what acall and need there is in this
world of ours for good common. sense, and
that so often the demand seems to ex-
ceed the supply—in the aggregate.
Then again. the supply seems abundant,
but the individual demand is limited——
rery limited—~“just a pinch " seeming
to be “ A great plenty, thank you." and
don‘t know what to do with that.

But is not the real foundation of all
that is good and desirable, and of all
progress—nothing more or less than
good common sense; and a combination
—in right proportions—of skill, energy
and common sense the material from
which all worthy enterprises are made?

I have lately, for a few days, been
manning the “rudder-end” of the
plow—plowing summer-fallow. The
ground was dry and hard, the hidden
stones were “ ﬁxed" and as the plow
pushed to the right and jammed to the
left, with an occasional poke in the ribs
when striking a stone, it is not difﬁcult
to see that plowing fallow, under these
conditions, is a healthful occupation
anda large-sized “ earth cure."

Is not very much of life made up of
the obstacles we meet—the inﬂuences
which bear us this way or that way—t0
the right or to the wrong, and the
strength of character that results from
striving to "walk uprightly.“ Then
after all this hard labor, when the ﬁeld
is plowed, how dry and drear it looks
under the midsummer sun! But wait
a few short months and note the
change. A ﬁeld of waving. golden grain
——the result of labor and trust—is here;
and the husbandman rejoices. forgetting
his days of toil in the cheerful pros-
pect of garnered grain. And so with
life’s labors all, if only well done.

The heat of July and haying and bar-
vest are again here, and the. air is laden

 

with the scent of new-mown hay, of
which the poet so enchantingly writes,
but let me tell you, I’d just like to
change places with him for a while,
and let him lay aside the pen and grasp
the fork-handle (I admit there are
times when the fork only should be
used); and while the thermometer
registers 90 in the shade and the sun
is nearly vertical, let him lift large and
rapidly succeeding forks full of hay upon
the load, never stopping or halting,
though the perspiration does run into
his eyes. drip from his nose and trickle
down his back, and if hayseed gets in
his ears. or a grasshopper meanders up
his shirt sleeve, it need only serve to
“tickle his poetic fancy” and increase
his interest in the free and happy life
of the farmer. And in the meanwhile,
I'd be reclining on a couch of softest
verdure. protected from the ardent gaze
of “Old Sol” by the waving boughs of
some grand old vanguard of the forest,
and rest while I‘d “poetize,” but for
fear that if I proceed I may leave sense
and fall into sentiment, I will refrain
for the present. THEOPOLUS.

 

COUNTING OUR BLESSINGS.

 

She was a dreadfully tired woman, as
she went methodically through strain-
ing the milk, rinsing the pails and
turning them on the table ready for
morning. Tired! Every bone and
muscle in her body fairly groaned in
strain and agony. Since earliest morn-
ing it had been one thing after another:
meals to cook, bread to bake, cherries
to pick, jelly to make, peas to shell,
cream to churn, chickens to feed, pet
lambs and calves, and what made the
case more agonizing, not a bit of help
could she procure. There had been
twenty applications for the district
school, and therewere four dressmakers
in the neighborhood, but when it came
to wanting kitchen help none could be
had.

She dropped with a thud into the
nearest. chair, too tired to go to bed yet.
The moonlight fell all around her, but
she did not notice it. Her thoughts
were bitter. No other woman around
had it half as hard as she; the ﬁrst one
up in the morning, the last one in bed
at night. Theodore had four men
to help him through haying and har-
vest: he could sleep until breakfast was
ready and at night smoke his cigar out
on the front porch (the men did the
chores), and he was snoring an hour be-
fore she could even think of bed. and
then sleep refused to come. Tomor-
row’s mountain of work towered above
her, would there never come a breath—
ing spell till she tumbled into her
grave?

All at once there flashed into her
mind the sermon the minister preached
the Sunday before. “My friends. at the
close of each day count your blessings;
you who think your cross is heavier
than a neighbor’s. you who live in the

   

 

shadows, you who are well off, but don’t
know it, count your blessings. You’ll
be surprised at the number.” “Well.”
she thought, “I’ve got uncommon
good health and strength to endure.
There’s poor Nell Reader, a helpless
creature. has to spend her time in an
invalid chair, no use of her lower
limbs; rheumatic gout the doctor calls
it, and it costs her husbandapile of
money to keep her at the Sanitarium.
I never could endure it, I know, but
she takes a heap of comfort writing
pieces for the papers. She says she
forgets her pain in comfortng others
who are worse off. just as if any one was
worse off than she.

“ Secondly, I’ve got a good home and
kind husband; that is, Theodore means
well, though he’s got a poor way of
showing it sometimes; for instance he’s
eternally holding up some other woman
who is such a pattern housekeeper, or
is so wonderful good looking, never gets
fretty nor out of sorts. Maybe there
are such women, but they don’t live on
farms. Everybody was preaching to
me that I’d better stay single. Mar-
riage was a lottery and few drew prize
tickets, but Theodore has turned out
well enough: he‘s the only man I know
of that can set up a stove and ﬁt the
pipe without swearing, he’s a master
to control his temper, considerate of
his horses, he has some faults, but I do
think he richly deserves his crown.
Third, I have all the butter and egg
money for my own use, and often I ﬁnd
a ﬁve or ten dollar bill tucked in my
pocket book after the wool and wheat
are sold. Jennie Dawson says her hus-
band is fearfully stingy, she doesn’t have
one penny to spend as she wants to; he
hangs around the store and nags the
clerks till she’s ashamed of him, and its
save, save, save from January to De-
cember.

“Fourth, our children are all good.

bright healthy children, no monstrosi«
ties or foolish ones among the three. I
do feel that it is a blessing surely.
There’s Mrs. Blank lives in town in her
nice big house, her husband has a pay-
ing position and money rolls in freely,
but what a sight is before her morning,
noon and night! Her oldest child is
going on thirty and has never spoken a
word; just makes an awful noise like a
mad creature bellowing; they have to
feed her and see to her like a baby—a
full grown woman, but no mind, no
reason or sense. Money doesn’t always
make things right, and there’s a skele-
ton in her big house that makes her
age so fast, her hair is white as snow,
and there isn’t a silver thread in mine
yet. Fifth, never once has Death’s
shadow hovered over our home and
settled down in it. Every night I tuck
them up in bed. Oh! that poor mother
who has buried her three boys, every
child taken from her in one short year!
There’s a hungry look in her eyes
when she sees mine frolicking about,
she says “ God isn’t good:” her life is

  

  
   
 
   
    
 
    
  
  
  
  
 
   
   
  
   
  
    
   
  
  
    
   
    
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
     
  
   
   
   
 
   
   
   
  
  
    
 
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
    
  
   
  
  
   
  

ILALw1A«J<-MW‘ ,__._;~.

”was man;

w mama’s. -

 

 

 

  


  

4

x /.-:—.‘w:— —.~.

   

 

 

 
 

The Household.

 

 

full of burdens without one single bless-
ing.

' “Mercy me! my life that I thought
was so hard and cheerless is brimming
' over with blessings, and which is my
greatest? Good health may leave me
in an instant. We may become poor in
as short a time; friends may desert us;
children are only lent, the Father may
call them home. Even Theodore may
change and cast me off in my old age,
men are so ﬁckleuminded and change-
able. Let me be content; satisﬁed to
live my life each day as it comes,
whether it be happiness or sorrow,
prosperity or adversity. receiving all
the good I can; giving all the good I
can, doing cheerfully in my imperfect
way for those I love.”

BATTLE Cum. EVANGELINE.

————.¢.———'

WASTE PLACES ON THE FARM.

 

[Paper read by. Mrs. J Ohn Cook. before the
Grand Blanc armere’ Club. June 19th, 1891.]

On this subject, as on all others, there

is a difference of opinion. First I would
call your attention to the low swampy
‘places on nearly all farms, which a few
dollars’ worth of work and tile would
convert into nice pasture or tillable
land. On many farms such low places
where they have good outlets are
neglected year after year, and recall to
our minds the old adage of “Penny
wise and pound foolish.” Then again,
bushes growing along fences to prop
them up as it were, when if out down
and kept down, and the corners mowed
this would add quite a little to the
hay mow, and to the looks of the farm
several dollars’ worth. To my mind
there is a great deal of waste in fencing
a farm. Not every one can afford as
many fences as does our worthy Secre-
tary. First be planted one, then made
one right along by its side to see that
one grow; ﬁnally they both died (a
natural death I guess), and another has
taken their places, and looks as though
it had come to stay. The barbed wire
fence is quite prominent in some places,
and if a farmer wished to spend thirty
or forty dollars and several days of
work, he would have a fence ready to
kill his most valuable horse in a'few
minutes’ time. The only place I would
care for a fence of that kind would be
around a pig yard, and only for my
antipathy to pigs would I care for it
even there.

Many farmers who pride themselves
on their economy, waste many dollars
annually by leaving their machines and
farming tools of various kinds exposed
to the weather throughout the year. In
riding through our town last spring, I
noticed one of our prominent farmers
had left his binder in the ﬁeld where be
last used it. If this same farmer’s wife
had put her sewing machine out of
doors and left it all winter, what an
uprising therewould have been in that
household!

In keeping and feeding a low grade

 

 

of stock that is small of stature and
always will be so, is another great
waste of time, when a higher grade is
always more remunerative.

It has always been a surprise to me
that farmers so often let run towaste
their orchards. After years of labor in
planting and care, when grown to bear-
ing age then comes neglect to prune
and trim them. Thistles and weeds of
all kinds if left to mature will choke
out all the seeds we sow, and it requires
“eternal vigilance” to keep them
down, and yet in some places in our
town the burdock ﬂourishes with great
renown. It does in front of the pleasant
hall where our Farmers’ Club often
meets. And if perchance you walk on
that side of the street, something more
sticky than sweet may cling to your
clothes.

 

LIFE IN TOWN.

 

Looking over a back number of the
HOUSEHOLD, the old story of over-
worked farmers’ wives meets my gaze
and sends me off into a reverie. I
think of the busy days when one pair
of hands did all the housework; fed and
housed the chickens, picked cherries
and berries, dried apples, cooked for
hired men, made rag carpet and wove
it, cared for the sick; and in fact with
the one exception of taking care of
babies I feel that I have been through
all the routine and can speak from
experience. But I solemnly aver and
without fear of successful contradiction
that those were quiet days when com-
pared with the constant hurry of town
life. I used to read so many books and
do much fancy work, beside all my
own sewing, and now I seldom read
even the daily paper. So much calling,
something of interest for every even-
ing, more time spent on the little
accessories of clothing, a drive into the
country every few days, plans and
work for atrip now and then, so the
time hurries by. Do I ever wish myself
back on the farm? Oh, no! I enjoy
just this way of living; but when I read
so much of the overworked farmers’
wives I know that they do not know
what it means to belong to clubs and
societies that require study and much
time, to be ready every afternoon for
the callers that surely come, and every
night to know that what was planned
for the day is not accomplished. There
is no spare time for EL. SEE.

Bonito.

 

QUERIES .

 

I ﬁnd the HOUSEHOLD very inter-
esting and will ask a few questions,
hoping some of the readers will an-
swer them through its medium. How
can you put wall paper on without its
cracking oﬁ?

Will some one give me a good recipe
for chocolate cake?

A good way to make ironing holders
is to piece worsteds together and cut the

 

lining so that the corners will be
rounded off, this will prevent them

from burning. VIVIAN.
SHELBYVILLE.
-—————-¢oo—————

CANNING VEGETABLES.

 

Canning sweet corn is a rather tedious
process, and not often successfully done
in the average household. Mrs. S. T‘.
Rorer, principal of the Philadelphia
cooking school, gives the following
directions: Select ﬁne, fresh corn.
Remove husk and silk, and cut the
corn from the cob; pack into jars,
pressing down closely, and ﬁll to over~
ﬂowing. Put on the tops, screw them
down, place them inaWhite jar holder,
and pour in sufﬁcient water to half
cover the jars. Cover the boiler

tightly, and boil continuously for three

hours, taking care that there is suf-
ﬁcient water to make a full volume of
steam. When done, lift out the jars
and screw down the covers as tightly as
possible. While cooling, tighten the
covers from time to time, and when
cold screw tighter still, if possible.
Keep in a cool, dark place.

Lima beans are treated somewhat
differently. Fill the jars with uncooked
beans, add cold water until running
over, lay on the tops-do not screw
them down, and pack closely in a wash
boiler on a layer of straw or hay; pour
cold water in the boiler to half cover,
put it over the ﬁre, ﬁt the lid on closely
and boil steadily three hours. Lift out
the jars; see that they are ﬁlled to over-
ﬂowing, and screw on the covers as
tightly as possible. When cold, screw
up again and keep ina cool, dark place,
Asparagus and peas may be canned in.
the same way. It pays to use glass
cans for home canning. The ﬁrst signs
of fermentation can readily be detected,
and the ﬂavor of the fruit or vegetables
is far superior to those put up in tins.
String beans are easiest to put up.
Throw into boiling water, boil rapidly
ﬁfteen minutes, and then put up as you
do small fruits—that is, in jars heated
in warm water, ﬁll to overﬂowing and
screw on the tops tightly. ‘

These directions have been frequently
repeated, and tried with varying de-
grees of success. We give them for
what they are worth.

_..._._.. . “ﬁg—mu...“

Contributed Recipes.

 

SEVEN Du Promise—To half bushel of
cucumbers take two cups salt, two gallons
of water; let stand three days and scald
every morning, pouring it on boiling hot.
On the fourth morning make new brine,
treat as before for three days: on the seventh
make new brine, half water and half vinegar,
adding a piece of alum the size of an egg;
boil this and let stand on the pickles twenty-
four hours, pour 03. Take six quarts good
vinegar. two pounds brown sugar, half pound
celery seed. one ounce white mustard seed,.

one pound cinnamon and three green pep-
pers. The pickles are extra nice. and are as

good now as when ﬁrst made. They should
be left in the crock in which they are made“

PmOm.

use. L. B. Bunions.

   

 

 

