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”Ia/I4 . . «

 

 

 

 

DETROIT, NOVEMBBJR 117, 1885.

 

 

 

EEO'IUS B EEQLD mag: r np-pllernrerrto

 

 

THE KNJT’ IN THE END OF TﬁE
THREAD.

 

Of all the vexations and worries—
The small ones, I mean, that life btli-gs
'lio a woman-just half of them coming
Prom impish, inanimate things.
“ch as, presto l away ﬂies a button.
Or of! goes an only pin‘s head,
i think that the worst. is the ﬁnding
. No knot in the end of the thread.

You have carefully taken some stitches.
.Your work tightly held in its place,
When your needle released on a sudden
From its bonds, leaves a scratch on your face.
Then again you must make a beginnir g,
Which you do with words best left nnsald,
But an angel could scarce keep her temper
With no knot in the end of her thread.

still, there's a way to get rid of this bother,
A way that is pleasan1 and light,
And ’twill serve as a rule for your life—work—
Be sure when you start to start right,
And then as you go on you’ll find that
Bright smiles will await you instead
0! the frownings and f'ettings that come with
No knot in the crd of the thread.
-—1!arp:o"a Bazaar.

 

~06.—-

SAVING WORK.

 

One item in which those who desire to
gain time for self improvement can save

‘ labor, is in the matter of washing. It is

so easy, when an article is mussed a little;
to toss it into the clithes’ basket. and if
every member of the family does so,
there is quite likely a “ber Monday ”
in that house. In using small articles
like napkins, towels, handkerchieis, etc.,

‘we are apt to be careless; because the

articles are small we forget the sum total,
and that ironing day follows. I am nota
believer in the one towel-enougn-for-two
housekeeping, but a little thought in
saving Washzng, which is generally con-
sidered the hardest work of the week,
pays. The cook should have her private
towel, kept in good order for use before
she puts her hands into ”the dough, and
which no one else is permitted to use.
Many makeapractice of using any old
cloth, part of an old shirt, etc, to wipe
dishes on, but it is far better to have
regular towels; and awooden rack or a
line behind the stove to dry them on
after using, is a great help in keeping
them clean and sweet; heater than to
hang them up in award on email. The
Turkish towels are excellent for hand
towels, and need not be ironed, only
“snapped out” and folded. A great
many housekeepers think they are
“shirking” and “getting slack" unless

rag—everything which was washed. and
point with pride to their clothes-bars
ﬁlled with smoothly ironed garments, as
evidence of better housekeeping than
that of their neighbor, who perhaps
folds her course sheets, shirts, and
towels from the line, putsaheavy weight.
on them, and lets them pass into use
again without even a “rub and a
promise” from the ﬂatiron. It is a mat-
ter of choice, not good housekeeping.
One chooses to spend an hour on her
feet, smoothing wrinkles in garments
which will lose all evidence of her toil in
shelf-day’s wear; the other prefers her
easy chair and a book; one may be
” smart,” the other “ lnzy,” it depends on
how you look at it; in my eyes I con-
fess the latter is the "smartest.”

In the matter of table linen I am con—
vinced it is not wise to be saving at the
expense of neatness. [have seen in some
of our exchanges, letters advising the use
of oilcloth for tablecloths for farmers’
tables. , It is well enough to protect the
top of the table, especially if it is a nice
one, with an oriclolh cover, though one
of acnnton fiannelis better, but the idea
of eating off it. is “horrid.” Half the
ﬂwor of a meal depends on how it. is
sewed. Fo’od appeals to the palate
through the eye as well as the taste. If
you wish your Children to have good
manners at the table, you nus: make the
table llS-‘slf neat and attractive, and serve
the food in the same fashion. I believe
there is no truer test of good breeding
and reﬁnement than one's table manners.
A child who eats a meal away from home
is the best possiile expiucn’. oi the
family manners at home. Don’t. think
think you can bring up a child on oils
cloth and pewter spoons, and not have
him awkward and uncouth among the
superior refinements of >1; well Served
table. And abroad, among people, at
hotel or reszaurant. or visiting, it is not
only very trauquilizing to know what. to
do one’s self, but. to feel sure that the
young scion won’t “ disgrace the family.”
So I would use White table cloths, clean
though coarse, and mpkins at every
meal, as educators to reﬁnement in the
family, and economize elsewhere to make
up for it if necessary.

Children can be taught. to be careful of
their clothes, not the trouble of instilling
habit-i of thoughtfulness is repaid not

 

iby good results in after years. Fate
they iron every garment, towel, sheet, 1 may Dill: them where they Will 1151-79 to.

n( t only in saving work at present, but

 

ply seventy-ﬁve cents per dozen for
Washing. and a pocket h lndkerchief cost
as mucn as a sheet. Teach them to hang
up their dresses at night, instead of
leaving them in a ring on the ti mr. Such
habits are €01le Kearnt-i. A three year

.old “ Hon .1" of my 80‘1ll‘tlltdil’3t will not

eat tillslle has her bio on. and cries if
she cannot find it and have it put on. ~ I
do not. think I would make draw era of
dark gingham or denim for the litile girls
as some mothers do, because always
other c‘nildron ridicule the wearers, and
to be made fun of by their playmates is a
terrible trial to sensitive children.

Are not “tired mothers.” as Mrs. W. J.
G. once suggestedgenerally prime foo-ore
in their own " tiredness?" ldo not be-
lieve children Were born into the word
to he waited upon from infuse: to young
l-iflyhOOd. B cause ll i~ sour unable to
teach the novice, motocrs s :3: " ()‘n go
off, I'll do it myself!” and ﬁnally ihc girls
“gt. ltf” without the form:;lity<)f offering

their help. [never yet sew agirl who
Was not at some periozi of her life anxious.
to help her my hot; uvli an lG‘sP’. don cszioity
begins to develop in an is the mother‘s
opportunity. I wmld never refuse a
child’s oil’ered help. 17’ I had to lie awake
nights t. l iuvmt sorts-thin: for it to do;
neiign somw ilii-il: task, and give a genial
“thank you or a word l‘ commcnda

tion when it is done. Til-ere is no virtue.
eitherdn a Worn in’s puttingr on martyr airs
because husband or cnil-lren never offer
to add her. Let her ask: for the help she
needs, not. overtask her strength because
assistance is not vouchsafe-i; if her family
do not see she needs help let her gently
open their eyes. I would not do it. with a
scolding, or complaint of neglect, but. by
a fair square rcques‘. for help. It is not
often the; such a request, pleasantly
made, is rilusvnl or ignored. If every—
body hated hints as Id l ts ere would be
much mor-~: pli'n speaking in the world.
Icher nod patience wi h those people
who will go "‘ round Rioui H )od‘s burn "
to bring abouts. result they might ace
complish directly by a simple request.
Some will like inﬁnite pains to get an-
other to offer to do something for than,
when the service would be much more
gracefully an". willingly rendered in re~
spouse to i. zlirezr. acknowledgmen’. of its
desirablenes» it is ’1: good rut: to ask
few favwrs or my one, but. it' S~=l '.=l «2:1-
g-ltion must- bI: incurred, the ‘ﬁ'llﬂh )r
feels much more unruly dizgwud if we
come out frankly :tUli make our rcqucsi,

 

than if we endeavor to enlrap him into a:

     
   

~.-. g...

   


2

THE HOUSEHOLD.

  

 

 

‘ offer of service by hints and innuendoes.
We need also to learn the value of time.
Absolute idleness is not necessary to
bodily recuperation. Change of occupa-
tion is rest. And it is a great thing not
to be always remembering how tired we
are. and how much we have to discourage
us. Thus saith the wise Brahmin of the
East:
“When once you think no more how far you’re
on your way,

The journey is half over; the rest is merely

play."

When we sit down for the bodily
test we must have, we may snatch a
moment’s time for a bit of work for the
brain. Keep the book you are “dying”
toread near to your rocking-Chair; cover
it with thick paper to prevent injury. If
you can get only ten minutes at a time
for a peep at its contents, you get some—
thing new to think about, which wonder-
fully lightens the day’s labor. It is not
how much you read, but what you re
member and make your own which helps
you. One may be an omnivorous reader
and yet be very like a sieve. into which
much is poured and nothing retained.
And if we talk of what we have read,
or are fortunate enough to have a
friend with literary tastes akin to
our own, it adds a new interest, a piquant
relish to the spare moments stolen from
the crowding cares of the day. Let me
whisper too that to talk of what we have
read is a great aid to development of the
conversational powers. BEATRIX.

“*9.—

INFLUENCE QF ASSOCIATES.
A bevy of light-hearted girls were dis
cussing the question of the inﬂuence of
associates on each other, and the question
was raised: How can one determine for
herself whether the inﬂuence of any per—
son is beneﬁcial or pernicious to her,
since many pleasant and interesting per—
sons might not be beneﬁcial. A person
might be a very agreeable companion,
bright and versatile, full of life, wit and
anecdote, but it all might amount to no
more than the froth of small talk, and
the time spent in her society be worse
than wasted; as no improvement would
result to either, while one would become
so much more grounded in a habit very
objectionable, and the other would be ac-
quiring a taste for the same. On the
other hand, a person might be so quiet
and reserved as to be almost tiresome,
and yet her known rectitude of conduct,
her unswerving adherence to truth, and
sweet disposition, might leave a lasting
impression for good upon her‘associates.
But it was further urged that these speci-
ﬁcations reached only cases where the
personal character was well known, and
some rule was wanted by which to judge
of the inﬂuence of casual acquaintances,
persons we meet in social ways, and who
must be judged without any previous
knowledge of their modes of life, natural
proclivities, habits of thought or action.
One young‘lady mentioned having re-
cently met a gentleman who seemed to
behighly cultured; and fond of tracing
all questions to their source and drawing
conclusions, often very different from

 

   

the established and accepted rulings;

that while listening to him his logic

seemed perfect, and his deductions un—
questioned. but a calm review Of his ar-
guments, when away from the magnetic
inspiration of his face and voice,
showed many fallacies and plausible
sophistries, that. unseen at the time,made
his specious conclusions appear in an al-
together different light, and the false
premises become apparent. It was diﬁi-
cult to avoid a person who would show
such manifest appreciation of one’s com-
panv, paying the compliment at once the
most ﬂattering and most deceptive, of
deferring to her judgment and taste, as
to one of high natural and mental ac-
quirements. Yet after a long conversa
tion she would ﬁnd that while seeming
to have agreed with all her statements of
faith, he had, in reality, subverted her
arguments, troubled her faith and unset-
tled her convictions.

“He is a dangerous man,” said a lady
present, “ and I would advise you to avoid
him entirely. Let me give you a rule,
girls, that long experience has proved very
good. If you ﬁnd anything in the feeling
left after meeting a new acquaintance
that is in the nature of doubt, or distrust
of their sincerity, or that shocks your
moral sense, that tends to weaken your
reverence for good, a desire to excuse or
palliate wrong of any kind, only take that
person into intimacy after long and
searching scrutiny and proof that your ﬁrst
impressions were incorrect. If,on the other
hand, you ﬁnd your good resolutions
strengthened, your desire for improve—
ment intensiﬁed. and your higher and
nobler impulses meet recognition in a
kindred mind you may justly conclude,
you have met a desirable acquaintance,
and if time sanctions your faith, you will
have a helpful friend. But remember
always that “friendship should be a plant
of slow growth.” While we should Culti-
vate good will and courtesy to all, only
the tried and proved should be admitted
to the mystic circle of heart friendship.

Remember that old proverbs contain
much proved wisdom, and would be for-
gotten except for that fact. So remember
that “ touching pitch will smear the ﬁn-
gers;” that “you will be judged by the
company you keep;” that “folly is a near
relative to crime,” and that “innocent
Tray was punished when found in bad
company.”

Remember also, that a blot on a girl’s
fair fame (whether deserved or not) is of
all things the hardest to erase; and study
well your steps that no designing knave
or sophistical reasoner beguile you from
the tried paths of truth and right, to the
realms of Donbting Castle and the grasp
of Giant Despair. a. L. L.

INGLESIDE.

 

Mas. J. G., of Ingersoli, says there is
some controversy among readers of the
FARMEB in her neighborhood as to
whether Beatrix is the HOUSEHOLD editor
or not; and Lucille, of Pinckney, speaks
of the HOUSEHOLD Editor as “ he.” The

HOUSEHOLD is edited by Mrs. R. F. J ohn-
stone, known to the readers of the FARMER
as “Beatrix.”

 

 

 

OUR A. B. C.’S.

 

There isatime in life when we fancy
there is but a single alphabet to learn
The child playing with the little a. b. c
blocks builds houses and churches with
tall steeples, then laughing with glee to
tumble them all down at last, will point
out fOr you each letter, proud in the pos-
session of so much knowledge. He has
yet to learn that these characters are ar-
bitrary, mere symbols which -in their
various combinations form words.

By-and-by we take up the alphabet of
words, as larger symbols. We build
playfully and yet more seriously with
these, for we ﬁnd that they hide a power
which stings and smites, as well as amuses
us. We toss them about in disorder, we
gather them, we arrange them, building
fair structures and lofty temples of story
and song, but in discontent they are all
overturned. We ﬁnd the symbolism too
dreamy, vague, and unsatisfying, and
crave more adequate knowledge. Now
we grasp the idea of a more esoteric sig—
niﬁcance in words, their meaning as
linked with experience dawns upon us.
Through gradual growths and larger life
must we win these mighty meanings.
The a. b. c. in more difﬁcult type is to-
day’s lesson. We learn that words are
sight, feeling, touch, sound; they are
passion, longing, rest, love. We take
them from the mental gallery of symbols,
and go out to learn their intuitive signi-
ﬁcation.

Here is one we pronounced as a pleas-
ant sound, what does it mean? Gracious
experience gives it a fair place in life. It
is like the dew on summer ‘lowers, like
the wind ”among the leaves when the
evening light falls softly on their waving
green. Another word of which we
thought little, spoke half-lightly; but now
we know it, and it is like a threatening
cloud, it sweeps like a tempest, burns
like aﬂame. Here is a little dependent
word, triﬂing symbol of almost nothing—
ness, why should we suppose this could
ever come laden with weariness, deep
and dense? Perhaps you uttered it when
you felt a thrust from the hand you loved,
and for you its weariness will never die.
And this was pleasant to use, it had a
musical sound like the rhythm of ﬂowing
waters, but it is a grave now. Another
symbol, for this we always felt an attrac—
tion, now its broader meaning touches us
like tender hands and loving lips. Linked
with beautiful memories, it is sacred.
One day we pick up a word in a chance
way, pleasing as to a child is the promise
of a new toy; a nipping, but not unkind
experience, brings out its reality clear and
ﬁne as a brilliant-hued leaf.

Every day we prove that there are
words like blows, words like poison tip-
ped needles hid in cushions of velvet,
words like rest, and words like true
hearts, responsive, satisfying.

In the great diversity of the world’s
symbols used for expressing ideas, in the
inﬁnite variety of human experiences
where each individual links with certain
developments, certain symbols as repre-
sentative and descriptive of those phases

 

 

 

 

 

 


THE HOL’SEHOLD

   

3

 

  

 

of life’s teaching, upon what shall we
rest as a basis for sympathy and universal
harmony?

, I have seen people of good sense and
culture. yet of great diversity of belief,
converse amicably, calmly. Words ﬂoated
as gentle as summer air; there was a large
degree of sympathy and understanding;
but an unlucky symbol in the form of an
innocent—appearin g word slipped in,
which proved reniniscent of obnoxious
experiences to the other. and like aspark
amidst powder blew the whole structure
of good feeling into fragments. “ What
folly!" Yes, I thought so, too. But then
another day, did not you and I ﬁnd our—
selves seeking an understanding with a
friend for whom we cherished warm
affection? We talked long. earnestly and
kindly. Words seemed like good-natured,
playful kittens, like ﬂowers, like freedom,
but alas! Certain unfortunate selections
in representative symbols divided us like
a tiny stream. At ﬁrst it rippled pleas
antly and lightly, but it grew continually
wider until we lost the sound of each
others’ voices in the dash and ﬂow of the
dividing river.

Now we know for all the noise and
eagerness of argument, for all its differing
rationale, as well, there is ﬁrm, everlast—
ing, common ground upon which we may
plant our feet in harmony amidst the most
diverse differences.

Do we not place too great emphasis up-
on mere intellectuality, which is the
smaller half of culture? Reﬂected through
individual characters, experience gathers
peculiar casts and takes curious shapes.
Applied universally and too narrowly,
imperfect interpretations and sickly il-
lustrations result.

What has been called “ the truth of
feeling ” is world—wide. In the human
heart dwells a truth which makes univer-
sal sympathy possible. This it is which
will aid us unerringly to a comprehension
of the fact that we are one with all hu-
manity, struggling, suffering erring be-
ings; that outside the individual experi—
ence there is a wider experience enclosing
each of us; there is about us a greater life

‘ enfolding the tiny heart-beat of the one
in the mighty throbbing of the universal
heart.

Brought more fully into the actuz.l.
which touches us at every lesson, we
gather the genuine meanings which un-
derlie all forms and symbols. They stand
out as realities, clear, rugged, truthful.
As such we collect them, plan, and build
life’s structure by graduated alphabets,
constantly approximating diviner begin—
nings and securing larger interpretations.

S. M. G.
Luann.

——-—-—-—«ooo————-—-—-—

SUCCESS WITH HOUSEHOLD RE-
CIPES. ‘

 

I have tried Aunt Becky’s way of
making bread, and ﬁnd it is splendid, but
I think it improves it to take the required
amount of preparation and either mix in
a large leaf or stir thick as for sponge,
then let rise and mix in loaves. It takes
but little more time, as it rises very quick-

 

 

ly; if set before breakfast it will be ready
to mix in loaves immediately after.

I am making a rug after S. A. G.'s
directions: am knitting it in stripes; it
will be beautiful when ﬁnished.

Will some one please send a good recipe
for chocolate cake, With ﬁlling?

MRS. J. G.

[Noansonn

—-—————— ‘0‘ —-— -—~—-—‘

BUYING HOUSEHOLD HELPS.

 

I havs just read Bonnie Scotland‘s let-
ter in the HOUSEHOLD of November 3rd,
and I “ am moved to write." I think she
did not read my article aright, or she
would not say I advise buying household
conveniences with the but'er and egg
money. If I remember rightly, I did not
advise any one, but merely said what I
would do if I did not have a just propor-
tion of tools to work with. We com-
menced as many others, empty handed,
and have alwaysbeen in debt for land,
but I have always had all the household
conveniences l have asked for, and a
washing machine was once bought when
I was ill thatI did not ask for, but my
husband helped about the washing two
or three weeks, and he did not like either
pounding or rubbing, and the machine
came quickly, the same as his tools when
he ﬁnds the inconvenience of doing
without. Then I distinctly remember
how I came by a patent churn. He used
to help me churn with the old fashioned
dash churn, and often lost patience be
cause it spattered. till one day he said,
“I will never churn again with that old
churn,” and the new one was bought be-
fore nextchurning day. I have always
had the butter, egg and poultry money to
call mine since we commenced houskeep~
ing, but it has been used for family and
household uses, not for my own personal,
selﬁsh use. If I could buy any of my
conveniences, I have gladly done so: if
they have been expensive, like a sewing
machine. my husband has bought them.
The farmers around here are universally
prosperous, and many have large farms.
butl think with hardly an exception their

‘wives have their own purses.

Before I was married I earned my own
money, and I felt independent and did
not have to ask for money, and I have
never go: over the feeling. I do not like
to ask my husband for money yet. I
much prefer to think I have something I
can call my own, for there are times when
I want something that a man, not under-
standing woman’s tastes or wants, would
think unnecessary; and then at Christmas
I enjoy having secrets from my husband
and children.

No, “ Bonnie Scotland.” you will not
be called an : old fogy. for you are still
young and hopeful, and life has not lost
its glitter; and I hope you will have the
new house and all conveniences before
you have been married a score of years,
for “hope deferred maketh the heart
sick.”

I think Beatrix struck the key note to
a happy home when she said, “If each
would study the other’s character and in—
dividuality, and accommodate themselves
to the other’s nature, there would be less

    

 

 

marital unhappiness and discontent."
There cannot be a complete. happy home
without the help of both husband and
wife I hate this everlasting preaching
to wives or husbands, but I think the
wives have to take the majority of the
sermons, as though they were the greatest
sinners. Let us have a few sermons ap
plicable to husbands and wives, and let
such men (I hope for the sake of human—
ity there is only one man) as Beatrix
tells us of in the HOUSEHOLD of October
27th, pass into oblivion.

OLD Si; HOOL 1‘! AC HER.
Tncnussu.

 

AN EVENING’S RASIBL l6.

 

On one of our beautiful September
evenings I was walking leisurely down
one of our principal residence streets,
when a merry peal of laughter caused me
to turn my head to see whence it came.
And this is what I saw: I looked through
the open windows, between parted lace
draperies, into a beautiful room, ﬂooded
with soft rose-hued light, and hung with
pictures. Under the gas-jets, clustered
about the center table, sat father, mother,
daughter and son of perhaps thirteen and
ﬁfteen respectively, whileapretty child
of four or ﬁve years leaned against the
father’s shoulder and was clasped in his
arm. The daughter was laughing mis-
chievously, it was her voice I had heard;
the son was busily explaining something
to the mother, whose back was toward
me but whose attitude expressed perplexi-
ty, and said as plainly as possible: “I
suppose it is so, but I don’t understand,”
while the youngest child slipped an arm
round her father’s neck and his lips were
pressed to her cherry check. It was a
pretty picture of family love and aﬂec-
tion; I smiled in sympathy with their
evident happiness and enjoyment of
each other’s company. But I suppose
the picture would be spoiled for many
when I say the hand that held the baby
to her father’s breast, held also “those
wicked cards,” that what the lad was so
eagerly explaining to his mother was the
disputed point of “who took the last
trick," and that the daughter’s gleeful
laughter was broken by “It was my
ace, mamma; oh what a good joke!”

It was not “proper” to stand staring in
strange windows, however charming
the sight within, so I passed on. On the
street corner, near a park whose plashing
fountain and comfortable seats invited to
its seclusion, three young girls about
ﬁfteen or sixteen years of age, well
dressed and pretty faced. were standing.
chattering to each other, laughing
loudly, and glancing often at two young
men who were leaning against a decapi-
tated lamp-post, and in turn, watching
the girls as I have seen a cat watch the
gambols of young birds that in their gay
unconcern were offering themselves an
easy prey to cruel claws. The girls were
quite conscious of the young men’s
evident desire for further acquaintance,
quite well aware a little further encour-
agement would break the ice, and indeed
when I returned half an hour later, I met
one of them walking with one of the

  

 

 
  


4:

THE HOUSEHOLD.

    

 

 

young fellows, while the other two were
freely exchanging badinage with the
young man solus at the lamp-post. Here
wasa “street acquaintance” begun, in
which a giddy girl ”gets acquainted” in
this fashion with a stranger whom she
would probably never meet under proper
guardianship, and which so often eni in
scandal, or pave the way to an intrigue
which can end only in dishonor and dis-
grace. There are unprincipled young
men—some older ones, too—whose even—
ing amusement it is to "pick up” ac—
quaintance with foolish girls in this
way; and many a staid city ofﬁcial and
business man would be very. properly
shocked and indignant if he knew the
company his daughter meets on the
street, while he toasts his eminently re-
spectable toes and reads his evening
paper. ‘

Where the street on which I was walk-
ing joins one of the main avenues, is a
brilliantly lighted saloon. As I approach
I hear the sound of music and merry
voices. As I piss, a group of lads linger-
ing at the door listening to the music, is
stirred for a moment, and one says
“Come on, boys; —it, I’m going in.”
The others, after a moment’s hesitation,
follow; the last, a boy of perhaps the age
of the one mentioned as playing cards
with his mother, gives a half-fearful,
watchful glance around, and then in re-
sponse to “Come on, Rob!" follows his
companions.

I have no comments to make, no moral
to draw, only these three scenes from
life, which came under my individual
observation, to preSent to you. Yet I
have thought, not a little, of the relative
wisdom of the parents of these young
people. BEATRIX.

HOUSEHOLD CONVENIENCiES.

As last in the bay window this morn-
ing, with Wasn‘oasin filled with tepii
water, and asponge, washing the “babies'
faces” (the larva of my house plants).
the thought occurred to me, why not tell
the readers of the HOUSEHOLD how we do
at our house?

I have 25 pots of plants, and what
should 1 do with them that they might get
all the sunlight, and be the least trouble?
If I had read at the time of the con-
venience mentioned in aiater issue of the
Hoosnnom), the table covered with sand,
I should have accepted the suggestion as
just the thing neediul; but tne conven—
ience of which I am about to write was
ordered and nearly ﬁnished. I hired
mine made, because our “ men folks” did
not have tools, or time, to make it. EVery
farmer ought to have tools and time to do
such little odd jobs.

This convenience is a box three feet
long, two feet wide and ten inches deep,
with legs turned like table legs, and
castors, so that I can easily move it to
sweep, and place it where it will get the
the best light. All the places where it is
joined togezher are covered With strips of
zinc, so that no water will drain through.

 

My plants were already potted, or I
should have ﬁlled this box with rich

 

 

soil and set the plants in it. The next
best thing to do was to put enough clean
sawdust in, a) that when the pots were
placed thereon, the tops of the pots would
be even with the top ofthe box. If any of
you were to step into my sitting room
this morning and see the rich, dark
green foliage, and the number of buds
and blossoms, and luxuriant growth—of
what were tiny slips only two months
ago, I thinkyou would say my experiment
is a success. Another comfort about it is
that the sawdust absorbs the drainage
from the pots and the water which may
be spilled when watering the plants, and
all dirt and dry leaves are kept within
bounds.

I have at last found a crumb cloth
which is a comfort to use. I have tried
canvas and drilling, but such material
needed so much washing—next a breadth
of carpet, but that was so heavy to take
up every morning and shake out crumbs
and dirt from the b )ots Of the men. Inow
use table oilcloth, at 25 cents per yard.
It wears well, and looks ‘fresh and clean
wiped off once a day with a cloth wrung
out of tepid water, in which there isa
little milk. When I tacked it down I
used bright. strips of calico to bind the
edges. In one of our papersIsaw the
suggestion, that this oilcloth was nice to
cover the sides of tne wood box instead of
papering it. I use this material to cover
my kitchen table, and thus save the

trouble of so much scouring.
MYRA.

Ponrer.
_._._._...___

THANKSGIVING DI NNEB.

 

MENU.

 

Tomato Soup.
Mashed Potatoes.
Roast Turkey with Oyster Dressing.
Celery.

Fried Par-snipe.

Cranberry Jelly.
Ribs of Pork, Roasted.
Baked Beets. Canned Corn.

Squash Pie. Sponge Pudding,
Codes. .
Bananas. Apples. Nuts. Grapes.

 

TOMATO SOUP. —0ne quart of boiling water,
one large can tomatoes, two small onions, one
small carrot, a stalk of celery; cut the vege-
tables line and boil one hour, adding water as
it boils away so the quantity may remain the
same. Season with one small tablespoonful of
salt and sugar and half a teaspoonful of pop
per. Cream a table-spoonful of butter with
two of ﬂour, thin with hot soup till it Will pour
readily. Pour into the soup. let boil ﬂve min-
utes, strain through a seive and serve very hot.
When the table is set, lay a slice Of bread in
the fold of each napkin to eat with the soup.

MASUED PorAross.—Develop your muscles
freely while using the poundcr; when ma-hed
to a ﬁne pulp, add a generous lump of butter
and beat again, then a teacupful of sweet
cream. Beat with a. fork till light and foamy,
then pile. up in a vegetable dish. Never pack
mashed potatoes into a dish with a spoon; this
makes them solid. -

ROAST TURKEY wr'riI Ursrsn DRESSING.—
Pl‘eptt‘c a llI'thilllg of one quart, of stale bread
crumbs, one cup of butter and hot wet: r
enough to mo:sten. Add two dozen nice large
oysters, with salt and pepper to suit the taste.
After the turkey is stuﬁed, lay it on the drip-

    

 

ping pan and add a pint 01 water, a heaping
tablespoonlul of butter and a teaspoonfulof
salt, replenishing the water as it dries away.
Baste very often. The secret of s handsomely
browned turkey lies in the frequent basting.
An eight-pound turkey requires three hours to
cook and a ten or twelve one needs four hours.
For the gravy chop the gizzard, liver and heart
and boil in a plntof water. Stir a tablespoon-
ful of browned ﬂour into the gravy in the pan
and add the water in which the giblets were
boiled. .

CRANBERRY Janna—To three quarts of
cranberries take two pounds of white sugar
and a quart of water. Cook thoroughly,
mashing the berries, then put through a fine
sieve. Return the juice to the stove, boil tif-
teen mlnutes, pour into glasses and seal when
cold.

BAKED anrs.—Wash the beets, but do not
cut or scrape them. Put in a pan with a little
water and bake in a moderate oven for three
hours. Remove the skins and slice, adding
salt, pepper and drawn butter: vinegar, it de-
sired.

Faun) Parent's—Scrape them and boil
until tender, then slice and fry in butter till
brown. 0r, dr0p the slices in a batter of eggs
and ﬂour, and fry.

Rina or PORK—Crack the sparerib across
the bones, fold over and secure with a twine.
Stuﬂ the opening thus made with one pint of
cracker crumbs, seasoned while dry with one
small tablespoonful each of salt and powdered
sage and one teaspoonful of pepper, a piece of
butter the size of a large (gg, and moisten
with a cup of not water. "

Squasu Pia—«Steam the squash for two
hours; mash through a colander. To a quart
of the strained squash add one quart of new
milk, one and a half cups of sugar, two table-
spooufuls of cinnamon, one-half a nutmeg,
grated, ginger if desired, and four eggs, well
beaten. Bake forty minutes.

Bronco Penman—Three eggs; one cup of
sugar; one cup ﬂour; six tablespoonfuls cold
water; one teaspoonful baking powder. Steam
three-quarters of an hour. Sauce: One
tableSpoonful of butter; two of sugar; one
tablespoonfulof iiour. Mix the ﬂour with cold
water, stir smooth; stir butter and sugar
together. Turh a coffee cup of boiling Water
into the ﬂour and water, then turn this on the
butter and sugar. Have ready the beaten
white of one egg and stir it in last. Iftoo talck,
thin with boiling water before the egg is
added.

....-._._ .‘”_ A. . -,_.

AN omelet is considered atoothsome
delicacy by city people. Yet in the
country, where fresh eggs are plenty,
this delicacy is rarely seen—0r rather,
eaten. Never try to make an omelet of
more tum six eggs at once, if you wish
it light and tender. Beat the eggs at
least ten minutes, and serve just as soon
as possible after it is done. An omelet
should travel to the table express time
the moment it leaves the pan.

__...__.___

Coutributed Recipes.

 

CREAM SPONGE CAKE—One cup of white
sugar; six tablespoonfuls thick sweet cream;
three eggs; one cup flour; two teaspoonfuls of
baking powder; a pinch of salt; ﬂavoring.
Bake in a square tin. Reserve the white of
one egg, bl‘at to a stiff froth with a little
sugar, sp-c ul on top, cut in squares, and lay a
piece of jelly on each. MRS. J. G.

Incense“.

       

 

 

