
 

 

DETROIT, SEPT. 19, 1891.

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

ONE WOMAN.

 

A little body. breezy. brisk.

And brave.—oh. but she‘s bound to whisk
The clouds from your horizon!

I’ll swear she‘d sweeten e‘en the cup

Of poor old J ob. and brighten up
Whate‘er she set her eyes on!

The biggest heart since time began,
To magnify the good in man
Her eyes are microscopic;
While to her sister woman s! e
Is full of such sweet charity
She makes herself myopic.

To slander. those dear, dainty ears
Are deaf; and oh. her tender tears
Like holy dews of Hermon.
Fall on hurt hearts! She words no wile,
She never preaches. but her smile
Is better than a sermon!

With her the misanthope forbears;
No melancholy views she airs;
The mists of doubts so scatter
Before her. hope darts up and sings.
And ﬁnds that with the scheme of things
There can’t be much the matter.

Misogynists go back upon
Their life-long record. ere she's shone

Upon their paths a minute:
The pessimist forgets his "fad;”
The world can’t be so very bad

With such a woman in it!

—Bos!0/t Globe.
——...—_

If he was e’er an idol in your eyes.

And you still love him. is it safe or wise

To lift the critic's chisel to the form

You fashioned when love's dawning light grew
warm?

Each criticism from your velvet lip

Unkindly strikes away a jagged chip

Which leaves a scar to mar the symmetry

You looked upon and deemed divinity:

And scars. once made. forever must remain—

The perfect ﬁgure ne’er:returns again;

And you. who heedlessly destroyed your all.

Will mourn your dengod who was your thrall

——....———

OUR .FRIEND AND OUR OTHER
FRIENDS.

 

How natural it is for us to think be-
cause we admire some person very
much, or dearly love a relative or
friend, our other friends, as yet unac-

 

quainted, must like and admire her
also, if circumstances will only operate
to bring them together! We sound
their praises, descant upon the graces
of mind and person, perhaps take great
pains to arrange for a meeting, expect-
ing they will prove as congenial in»,
timates as to us, and that the same'
warm friendship will in time exist be-
tween them. And how we are disap-
pointed after all, when our desires are

.....

accomplished and we can make them
“acquainted,” as we say. They “don’t
take to each other -" at all: perhaps ﬁnd
nothing in common, are profoundly in
different, or even repugnant to each
other. Why, since we think so much
of both and ﬁnd so many congenial
elements, cannot they be friends, as we
are with each separately? Well,
nobody knows. We only know our
hopes fall dead. We learn that though
“things equal to the same thing are
equal to each other ” in mathematics it
is not so with human natures. The
traits we love in two of our friends are
by no means indicative of a mutual
fellowship which shall unite them. For
that reason, though we ought always
to speak well of our friends, I believe
it is wisest to refrain from especially
commending one to another. Dis-
appointment- is almost certain to fol-
low.

Our friend does not see our other
friend with our partial eyes, and will
probably wonder wherein lies the at-
tractiveness we ﬁnd. Is it not so? Have
you not some friend who has warmly
praised her other friend to you, extolled
her beauty, her wit, her intellect? And
when you met her, your eyes could dis-
cover no beauty above the average, her
wit displeased, her talk was mediocre;
there was no basis on which to found a
liking. There is something deeper
than we think in this mysterious af-
ﬁnity which draws two hearts together,
and operates negatively with another
pair. We don't understand it, we never
may, but till we do solve it, it is wisest
not to over-praise. We rouse others’
anticipations to a point where they ex-
pect too much.

The plan of “paving the way” for
an acquaintance which may ripen into
an attachment and culminate in matri-
mony by exaggerated praise of the two
persons concerned, each to the other, is
often employed by silly people of a
match-making turn, who are usually old
enough to know that “made matches ”
almost invariably turn out badly. “ I’ve
got the loveliest girl picked out for
you,” addressed to a young man of
spirit is apt to provoke an unchristian-
like resentment and a decided prejudice
against instead in favor of the young
lady; he feels if he wants “a girl” he
can do his own choosing. And no girl
of delicacy and good sense will thank a

\

 

friend for “throwing her at a young
man,” so to speak; as if she were in mor-
tal straits to marry. The knowledge
that one has been presented to a young
man for his consideration as a possible
wife does not tend to a young girl‘s ease
and self-possession; her modest instincts
are affronted, and she feels like repell-
ing friendliness rather than encourag-
ing it. Young men have their' own
tastes in the matter of girls, and the
girls their own opinions regarding
young men. They will gravitate to-
gether readily enough and choose their
afﬁnities without the match-maker,
who more often mars than mates wisely.
“ Do you know Mrs. had the im-
prudence to tell me she had told Mr.
-——- what a nice wife I’d make, and
to want to introduce us! I spend most
of my time when we meet anywhere
trying to keep away so he will not be
introduced. and I just despise her!” said.
a young lady to me only a few days ago.
And I did not wonder at the angry
sparkle in her gray eyes, nor the proud
set of her little brown head. If you
think two young people will prove con-
genial, don’t spoil it by telling them
so. Introduce them, manage to
bring them together as if inadver-
tantly, and they themselves will settle
the question of attraction or repulsion
far better than you can do it for
them.

I have little respect for a match-
maker. Her schemes often prove suco
cessful, and the young people her
superior wisdom has decided will
" make a good match” are half led, half.
coaxed into marriage. But if the
union proves unfortunate and the
couple are unhappy—as happens nine
times out of ten—it seems as if she who
maneuvered to bring it about would
carry with her the consciousness that
she had been instrumental in wrecking
two lives and that the burden would lie
heavy on her conscience. Marriage is
quite enough of an experiment at best,
even when the two are drawn together
by the promptings of the heart; and it
is assuming a great responsibility on
the part of a third person to urge a
step which makes or mars two lives.
Howells handles one phase of this sub-
ject very nicely in his story, “A Fear»
ful Responsibility,” a book which {
commend to the consideration of all
women of match—making proclivities.

BEATBIX.

 

 


2 ‘ The Household.

 

HOTEER'S DIFFICULTIE s).

 

”The valley seems full of contentment
Which the mountain conceals from our eyes;
when-we have climbed the embankment

Its mystical beauty ﬂies.”

Iithink perhaps I shall strike a re-
sponsive chord in every mother’s heart
when Isay the ﬁrst few years of mar-
ried life, during the bearing and rear-
ing of children (combined with the

.various struggles incident to getting a

start, paying for land, getting comfort-
able buildings and stock around us) are
Edged in and surrounded with more
diﬂi'culti'es than any which may come
later-in. life. If they are not really the
hardest years they surely appear so,
seen through inexperienced eyes. Al-
most before the young wife realizes it
she has a ﬂock of little ones—three or
ﬁvehand when one cries, they all cry,
and when one is sick the rest get sick.
And there is the work to do; it is more
often: the case there is no help con-
sidered necessary, than that a good
strong competent girl is employed;
fruit comes along in rotation; there are
the hot days in August when the babies
are getting their ﬁrst'teeth—it is small
wonder that patience not existing in
unlimited quantities ﬂies out of the
window and a fretful, discontented feel-
ing takes its place. _Oh! it takes such a
little while for the sweet girlish look
to leave-the face; childbirth pains leave
an; impression; constant irritation
brings the ugly little scowl between the
eyes; the mouth droops, ﬁne wrinkles
some; less care is shown in wearing
pretty dresses; no use to brush the hair,
or wear ribbons, baby musses them so;
the tired father is met with complaints;
he knows, even though you do not say
fit-in so many words, that the bright
dreams you had of married life have
not been realized.

“To marri all the stories ﬂow
. And nish there.
As if with marriage came the end.
The entrance into settled rest”
The calm to which love's tossings tend.
The quiet breast
Love played the low_prelnde.
Yet life began but with the ring,
Such inﬁnite solicitndes
Around it cling."

Dear. little discouraged mother, you
just began life that day you promised
in “love, honor and cherish.” It
seemed like a page from a fairy story;
the bright sunshiny day, the bevy of
girls; the hosts of friends; the grave
minister; the congratulations, the re-
freshments and nice presents—it was
the glad fruition of all your hopes,
”dupes that you both had talked over so
many times! There was the going
away for the “ honeymoon,” the earth's
population was limited to just “us two”
for that brief period. There was the
glad coming home and the founding
of a new home. It reminds me always
of a pair of birds building the nest.
Then the furnishing of the new home!
So many plans are laid—bubbles of
hope—more pleasure is taken in their
anticipation than in their realization;
and in such a short time the new baby

no joy that can equal it—that of the
parents over the cradle of the ﬁrst-born
—the little bow—knot to tie your affec-
tions. There is a new stimulus, some-
thing better than you had known.

But every babe brings added cares;
unless the very nicest discrimination is
shown they get to be burdens. It looks
like a thankless job—rearing children to
have them turn against you in old age.
You read in the paper of an old father
ani mather being put into the poor-
house by their ﬁrst born. You must do
your duty each day, prayerfully, ten-
derly, “ trusting heaven humbly for the
rest.” There is no task so beautiful,
no task which brings its own comfort
along with it day after day as that of
caring for the little ones given to us.
Study patience if you haven’t it. Satis-
faction comes in the consciousness of
well doing; there is pleasure in watch-
ing the little faculties unfold, the baby
touch, the sweet lips, the cunning ways.
Troublesome comforts all the way
through, “bringing their own love
with them.” It is so natural to jerk
them, and ﬁnd fault with them and
speak crossly, not fully comprehending
the fault lies largely with ourselves;
we are out of tune, the little one has to
be made the medium by which we work
off these bad feelings. Just stop and
think. There will come a time—the
years pass swiftly—when we will sit
alone.

“ Alone in the home, who would dream it
Or think thatit ever could be. '
When my babes thrilled the air with love notes
That had meaning for no one but me.
A house of stark stillness and silence
Is this when I think 'of the rush
Of childhood’s swift feet at the portal
And of childhood’s sweet spirit of trust.”

Let us never brood over our lot as a
hard one—harder than some one’s else.
Each day brings its duties; it was so
intended. A busy life is better than an
idle one. Take time to read to the
little ones; tell them stories, manufac-
ture them for the occasion; walk out
with them; romp and play sometimes;
it will keep you young, you will lose the
fretful feeling, and a time will come
when viewed through wiser eyes—these
earlier years of married life, tending
babies and westing with poverty—will

hang on memory’s walls as the
brightest, happiest days of all. ‘
BATTLE CREEK. EVANGELINE.

 

LITERARY FOCIETIE i .

 

Well, September is with us again,
and our season of canning, pickling
and preserving is nearly at an end; and
I think we will all breathe a sigh of re-
lief when we can say that is the last.
And there is another cause of relief for
me. I have not been forced by circum-
stances to take a hand in any picnics
this summer; and the season is now so
far advanced I feel I- can venture to

picnic, and this little spark kindle into
a ﬂame.

 

mu been laid on your breast. There is

 

tion a couple of years ago have got set-
tled down to business and prosperity.

Our society (and I think the same is
true of our neighboring societies) is
steadily improving as the years go by;
we are sailing serenely through our
ﬁfth year; and Iam’glad to say that
each year is an improvement on the
preceding, and that of course means
that the members are becoming a little
wiser, not only in literary lines, but
in learning, it may beslowly but surely,
to express their thoughts intelligently
in public; and what is of quite as much
importance, to think intelligently upon
subjects not particularly connected
with the ﬁt or fashion of a dress, or the
children’s ailments. or new recipes, or
the best methods of canning, pickling,
or preserving. though these are by no
means neglected. Perhaps the best and
most important good gained is that the
ladies are learning to judge others and
their motives more as they expect to be
judged. I believe every woman is con-
scious of more good motives than any
one but her very nearest friends ever
give her credit for. It is natural for
woman to give her whole heart and
much the larger share of her strength
to her own immediate family, and it's
members think the mother and wife
nearly perfect models of excellence.
The woman who lives almost wholly in
this atmosphere in time believes she
is always right, and of course her way
is the way; and she intuitively supposes
every person of good judgment holds the
same opinions as herself. How many
women does she ever meet whomshe
thinks possessed of as good judgment
in the management of children, or ex-
penses, or her household generally as
herself? I’ll venture to say there are
not many in her neighborhood.

In these societies, in time, every
thoughtful woman learns to know her-
self better by studying herself and by
comparing herself with others, and
also to know others and give them their
just dues in her judgment. I do not
say all women, but I think the large
majority attain to this sooner or later.
I would not have you think I am trying
to make out that our society is made up
of women better othan the average.
No, they are human, and like other
women they do not all think alike, and
if a few talk a little too much and that
not complimentary of the absent. some
do not repeat it. and if some one else
does, the third party quietly ignores,
and I am sure they are all much im-
proved by the discipline.

I am not telling- you all this for the

 

sake of telling of “ our society,” but to
encourage the organization of societies
in every country district; as Beatrix

. told you a few weeks ago—“organize a
draw a long breath, and not be obliged literary society as a means for preven-
to watch my tongue in fear it will say tion of gossip.”

And now is the time to begin agitat-
ing the subject. Let some one in the

I often wonder if those literary so- neighborhood make a tea party, invite
cieties which were in a state of commo-

as many as is convenient to entertain,

  

 
   

-.1LLLA§A“


  

The Household.

 

3

 

and while at tea ask who will join in
the enterprise. Then another name a
day and invite those who wish to join
’to meet at her house to organize. Make
.a beginning if there are but half a
dozen; the thing is infectious, and you
:will soon have as large a membership as
you will wish. At your ﬁrst meeting
*you can decide by vote what kind of
work you can do best at ﬁrst; whether it
shall be a ladies’ society, or include the
whole family, men, women and chil-
dren; and how often you shall meet,
whether in the afternoon or evening.
Make but few rules at ﬁrst; in time you
(can adopt a constitution and by-laWs
and learn parliamentary practice.
ALBION. M. E. H.

H.—

80 APIN E.

 

I sing the praises of Soapine. No—
body has approached me with a bid
for my valuable autograph attached to
a testimonial; no manufacturer's agent
has tendered me a box, either of Soapine
Or at the theatre: on the contrary, this
“is the spontaneous outburst of a heart
ﬁlled with philanthropic desire to
beneﬁt my fellow humanity by the
recommendation of a beneﬁcent fairy
who works miracles under the euphoni-
ms title of Soapine.

Soapine is a powder put up in a box
:about the size of a barof Ivory soap and
‘costs ﬁve cents. A tablespoonful in a
pail of hot water produces a “suds”
which would delight a washerwoman’s
'heart, and which has a magical effect
upon flannels. I don’t know what it is
‘made of; I don’t care. There is am-
monia in it, to that the sense of smell
bears witness. '

I like to wear soft ﬁne all wool ﬁan-
‘nels, but under the manipulation of the
Madonna of the Tubs who graciously con-
descends to superintend the destruction
:Of my wardrobe these all wool garments
undergo a shrinkage as astonishing as
‘the diminution of the assets of a bank-
'rupt ﬁrm when the creditors try to
realize upon them. Nor do I alone suf-
fer. As a matter of current history, it
is told t‘aataset of flannels which in
their first estate ﬁtted a man of nearly
'two hundred avoirdupois grew by de-
grees so “small and beautifully less”
'that they were handed down a graduat-
ed scale of wearers, each washing send-
:ing them to the next smaller in size in
the family, till the seven year old re-
belled, declaring them “ too tight.”
But they were not, presumably, washed
'with Soapine.

Listen, while I tell you how to use
Soapine, and incidentally, how to wash
ﬂannels, as I have learned how, for
:these ﬁne ﬂannels I affect I wash my-
self in the stationary bowl in my sleep-
ing room: ~ Have ready a sufﬁcient
.quantity of clean lukewarm water,

water but a degree or two warmer than
the room, and which feels moderately
warm to your hand. Dissolve Soapine
»(in hot water) according to the quantity

 

of water, a small tablespoonful to a pail-
ful of water is plenty; put in the ﬂannel
and gently squeeze and press it in the
hands. Do not rub. The dirt comes
out as if by magic. Use a second suds
of the same temperature and a little
less Soapine, and turn wrong side out in
this. Rinse in clear water, still of the
same temperature, and dry in a warm
room. The goods will be beautifully
soft, white. and not perceptibly shrunk-
en. If you use too much of the powder
they will be yellowed. The Soapine,
the tepid water, the drying without
change of temperature, and the con-
tinuous process—no stopping till they
are wrung out and hung up—all un-
doubtedly help, but as the results with
Soapine and the same method of wash-
ing are better than those with soap, by
the same process, I am inclined to as
cribe some of the good work to the
powder.

Soapine is also excellent for washing
woolen dress goods, the material com-
ing out soft, clean, and not fulled up,
as is apt to be the case when soap is
used. Those who have used soap-bark
as a deturgent say Soapine is as good,
if anything superior, and more con-
venient to use. BEATRIX.

 

TEE BICYCLE FIENDS.

 

My hands were in the dough one
morning when there was a loud, per-
emptory ring. It took a few minutes
to get to the door and there Was a
neighbor's boy. “I want a bicycle,
Sister Gracious; please buy some bak-
ing powder! !” It was forty cents a can,
much more than I can buy for it by the
quantity, but to gratify the lad I bought
acan, and I didn’t want it, for I had
plenty. Well, the work was done, and
I was catching forty winks on the
lounge when another ring. A dear little
girl was at the door. “ Please! please!
Sister Gracious, buy a can of baking
powder, for I want a bicycle so much!”
Not a word said about the merits of the
stuff; but I couldn’t resist that pleading
face and bought the can. A young lady
who lives next .door came the next
morning with the same request, and
because she was a dear friend. I bought
one from her. That made three cans
on the pantry shelf, and each time I
felt imposed upon, for I could get the
same quantity for less price at wholesale,
and why should I help buy bicycles for
my neighbors’ children? They kept
coming, six children the first week of
the summer vacation, and then I had to
cry “ Hold! l” all along the line.

Should mothers let their children be
such nuisances! And isn’t it bad for
the children, especially little girls,
teaching them to be bold? Also, isn‘t
it too hard work? One hundred and
ﬁfty cans have to be sold to entitle the
seller to a bicycle, and that, with so
many children tearing around begging
you to buy, must come hard on the little
ones. Nine out of ten fail to sell the
required amount, but in their eager-

    

 

ness the ﬁrst few days they manage to
diSpose of a good many cans, and the
makers of the baking powder reap the
beneﬁt.

What do others think of this plan?
Should the merchants and manufactur-
ers employ children to dispose of- their
wares? SISTER GRACIOUS.

 

ODDS AND ENDS.

 

It’s so much easier to keep the table
always “set.” Each meal seems half
ready when we commence, if the table
is in readiness. I liked the plan of a
friend where I visited last season, and
have found it very satisfactory in my
later experience. That was a farmer’s
home and the hostess said: “ I have so
many chance guests that I never could
get along with my work alone if I
didn’t keep my table in readiness and
then I never make any changes for
company.” Her plan was to keep the
table spread large enOugh for two ex-
tra beside the family, without seeming
crowded. She had three children and
two hired men, her aged father. her
husband and herself to cook for, yet
she did it all so easily by systematizing
everything.

Her plan about the table was to put
on a clean tablecloth every Saturday
after dinner and turn it every Wednes-
day after dinner. She used large tray
cloths on the opposite sides for herself
and husband, and little mats elsewhere.
All were provided with napkins, and if
by accident anything was spilled a
doyley was put over the spot before the
next meal and it looked as though it
was placed there for additional orna-
ment instead of from necessity. The
children were instructed to be very
careful and tidy at table, and if the
men were in especially dirty work a
cheap napkin was put over the edge on
their farther side of the table. I never
sat at a farmer‘s table where everv-
thing was served so nicely and with so
little apparent “fuss.” Her guests
never feel that they have dropped in on
the wrong day or that their visit has
caused too much extra work to over-
balance the pleasure of the occasion.

I made a veal loaf yesterday, and as I
do not remember to have seen a recipe
like it in the HOUSEHOLD I will en-
close it. When mixed, if one does not
choose to bake it all she can save out
enough for a meal, to be made in little
pats, with ﬂoured hands, and fried in
butter. Either way is equally good,
and for picnic or traveling lunches it is
unsurpassed. It should be chopped at
the butcher's.

If those who think it too much trouble
to mix crust for a fresh pie every morn-
ing will try preparing enough for two
or three, but only baking the one. then
put the balance of the dough in a cool
place, covered from any circulation of
air, they will ﬁnd it very easv next
morning to just roll out a crust and
bake a fresh pie, and it’s ever so much.
better than if baked the day before it

to be eaten. EL. SEE
ROMEO. '


      

4

The Household.

  

 

 

ABOUT PICKLES AND PRESLVES.

 

Tne fruit season is a busy one for the
housekeeper. It is her harvest. With
what satisfaction she surveys the rows
of cans and jars of pickles in her store
room! . How heartfelt the sigh she
breathes when the last cover is “tied
down” and the last quince out of sight!
You don’t know h0w it is until you’ve
been there. Cans, catsups; jellies,
jams; preserves, pickles—whata trouble
this eating makes us, to be sure! Never
mind: we will forget the work and only
think how good they taste, next winter.

“What makes you put ’em all in salt
and water, mamma?” asks the little
girl who is “helping mother” with
the chow-chow, as with willing but
awkward ﬁngers she cuts up the green
tomatoes. “Oh, I dunno. ’Cause the
recipe says so. I guess,” replies the
mother. Do try to answer a child’s
reasonable'questions in a sensible man-
ner. Don’t you know how much more
interesting a thing is when you under-
staﬁd about it? But perhaps you don’t
know yourself.

All sour pickles, and all sweet pickles
not made Of ripe fruit , are soaked
twenty-four hours in a brine, the usual
proportion being a cup Of salt to a gal-
lon of water. The use of the brine is
to draw out the acrid or strong ﬂavor
of the unripe fruit or vegetable, leaving
the pulp ready to absorb the vinegar
and Spices which make it palatable.
The process of removal is hastened by
packing with layers of salt, letting
stand over night and then pressing to
extract the green juice. The ﬁrst
vinegar into which green pickles are
put usually draws out more of this
acrid juice and should be poured off,
thrown away, and fresh vinegar added.
Then the pickles will keep without
fermenting.

The vinegar is quite a feature in‘put-
ting up pickles. Cider vinegar is un-
questionably the best; it is worth two
prices above the ordinary article found
for sale in the grocery stores. One
can have plenty of it—if apples are
grown on the farm—simply by taking a
little pains. And it is a great deal bet-
ter than any "short method.” Fruits
and vegetables should be fresh and
ﬁrm. The best of vinegar will not re-
vive stale or wilted stuff and make it
into crisp pickle.

Ripe cucumbers make an agreeable
pickle. Cut them in lengthwise strips;
pare and remove the seeds, scraping
the inside. Let them stand in cold
vinegar over night. Throw this away,
cover with fresh vinegar and allow
sugar in the proportion Of two pounds
to a quart of vinegar and an ounce of
cinnamon and half an ounce of cloves.
Tie the spices in a muslin bag, and boil
the cucumbers in the vinegar until they
are tender.

A good proportion for sweet pickles
is four pounds of sugar to seven pounds
of fruit, with a pint of vinegar, an ounce

l

    

 

of cinnamon and half an ounce of cloves.
The pickle looks nicer if the spices are
tied in bags and removed after cooking,
though spiced currants are delicious
where the ground spice is used; spiced
gooseberries also. The bags of spice
should be burned: the boiling vinegar
has extracted their ﬂavor; if you don’t
believe it, taste them.

Sweet spiced peach, pear and plum
pickle is delicious when the fruit is
pared and quartered and cooked down
till the syrup is almost as thick as pre-
serves. Skim the fruit out when it is
cooked sufﬁciently and boil the residue
to the proper consistency. If you have
spiced vinegar left after using out the
fruit, save it to put into the mince-
meat. People will accuse you of put-
ting brandy in your pies, but you can
plead “ not guilty.”

For preserves, the fruit must be
neither over nor under ripe, but “ just
right.” Not soft nor hard, but just
fairly mellow. Then cook in the sugar
syrup till clear, or till you can pierce
it easily with a straw. skim it out into
cans or jars; boil the syrup till it is
thick, and turn over the fruit. I like
preserves, hence I bless the McKinley
bill which gives us twenty pounds of
sugar for a dollar, and robs the
“pound for pound” rule of all its
terrors. The sugar is cheaper than
the fruit nowdays.

Quinces and citrons are about the last
fruits—if the latter can be called such—-
to be manipulated. I do not care much
for Citron preserves and never make
them up unless the supply of fruit is
pretty scanty. _But quinces are good
for an “every day sauce;” they are not
very expensive, I mean. You need to
handle them just right if you can them
or they are hard and comparatively
tasteless. Whether intended for can-
ning or preserving they must be cooked
soft in clear water, for they are made
hard by being put into a sugar syrup at
ﬁrst. Pare and core the quinces, cut-
ting them into quarters or eighths, ac-
cording to size; weigh. Put the..par-
ings and cores into water and simmer
till soft, strain and return the water to
the stove. Cook the quinces in it (a
few at a time) lifting the pieces out care-
fully as they become soft and laying
separate y on a platter. When all are
done, a1 ow three-fourths of a pound of
sugar to a pound Of fruit and make a
syrup with the water in which the
quinces were cooked. Boil and skim;
return the fruit and simmer slowly un-

til the preserve is a rich .red "color,“

which will require from forty minutes
to an hour. Take the fruit out into
jars and turn the syrup -over it.

Quinces and sweet apples are good
“done up” together. You will need
no more sugar than for quinces alone.
When the quince is done, take out and
add the apples—you will need to cook
them slowly, a long time, perhaps two
hours. Then ﬁll- the jars with a layer
of quince, then one of apple. This pre-

    

 

   
    
 

serve is better after it has stood a.
month; the ﬂavor of the quince has their
permeated the apple. The round
quince is said to be better for preserv-I
ing than the pear shaped.

Quince jelly is often made of the- '
parings and cores, but is net as nice as.
that from the whole fruit. In making
any jelly, boil the juice of the fruit;
nearly as long as is necessary usually
twenty or thirty minutes—before add-
ing the sugar; then, when the sugar is.
added it has but to dissolve, boil up and
be skimmed, and be boiled from ﬁve to-
eight minutes to be ready to “ set;” and
will be lighter in color and more de-
licate in ﬂavor than by the other pro-
cess.

Peach jelly is so difficult to make
and get hard enough to be respectable
that I have given up trying to make it.

DETROIT. L, C..

 

- 4‘—

Contributed Recipes.

 

VEAL Loan—Three pounds of veal and”
one pound of fresh pork chopped very ﬁne;
two cups of cracker crumbs; two cups of
sweet milk; three eggs; butter size of one
egg, with pepper and salt to taste. Mix
thoroughly, or knead like bread, with ﬂoured

hands, and bake two hours. EL. Sum.
ROMEO.

 

WHITE Puma—One pint of milk, half‘
cream; whites of four eggs whipped stiff;
one heaping cup of ﬂour; one cup of powder-
ed sugar; grated peel of half a lemon; a,
pinch of salt; one teaspoonful of baking-
powder. Beat until the mixture is light,
ﬁll buttered cups one-third full and bake.
delicately brown. Turn out, sift powdered
sugar over them and eat with lemon sauce..
whipped cream and jelly, or sweet cream.
and nutmeg.

 

JELLY PUDDING.——Two cups of ﬁne stale
bread crumbs; one cup of milk, half cream;
ﬁve eggs beaten light, whites and yolks
separately; one teaspoonful of baking-
powder. Fill buttered cups half full of the
mixture and bake in aratber quick oven;
twenty minutes should be sufﬁcient. Turn.
out of the cups, cut the side open and ﬁll in
a tablespoonful of jelly or preserve of any-
kind, pinch the edges together and eat with.
cream and sugar. To be served warm; dc-—
licious.

 

GRANGER PUDDING.—One cup of thick
milk; one-half cup of brown sugar; one-half
cup of molasses; one-half cup of butter;
two and a half cups .of sifted ﬂour; one
teaspoonful of soda; one cup of raisins; one-
cup of currents, one-half cup of citron;.
tablespoonfulof all kinds of spices mixed.
Steam one hour. Eat with aboxled sauce.
Good without the fruit. Sauce: One tea-
cupful of sugar; one-half teacup of butter;
one tablespoonful of corn starch; white of
one 983. beaten stilt; tablespoonful of wine =
or brandy, rub smooth and add boiling
water until the proper consistency.

 

BOILED LEMON PUDDING.--TWO cups of
dried bread crumbs; one cup of beef suet
shredded ﬁne: four tablespoonfuls of ﬂour; .
one- half cup of sugar; one large lemon; yolks
of three eggs and whites of two; one cup of '
milk; teaspoonful of baking powder. Boil
one and a half hours in buttered mold. or‘
steam; eat with wine sauce. Good.

BATTLE Cam. EVANGELINE.

 

 

 

 

