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DETROIT, APRIL 14:, 1888.

 

 

THE. HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

A STUDYIN METAPHYSIC’S.

 

I rm listening, often listenirg,
For a certain mellow tone,

A voice conveying strength and sweetness,
A fascination all its own.

'So I am listening, always listening,
Catching in an undertone,

Be: e a trace and there an echo
0! the soul life so unknown

Listening, listening, ever listening,
For these glimpses of the life

That is hidden from our vision,
Lived outside the daily strife.

‘80 I am listening, always listening.
For the time is sure to come,

When we shall reach the El Dorado
A little farther on,—

When we thall never more be listening,
For we shall kr ow as we are known,
When we tread the golden pavements
Of the land beyond the sun.
10m. U. V. P.

——-—-—-.O.—-———

AMONG THE STUDIOS.

 

The week before Easter I took a few
moments one bright afternoon to visit an
exhibition of the work of two of our amateur
artists, young ladies, consisting principally
of ﬂower pieces. Being a lover of ﬂowers.
I naturally take a great interest in their
“counterfeit presentments;” indeed my
friends sometimes laugh at my artistic taste
which leads me to always select such pic-
tures for the decoration of my apartments.
In these comments, I should say I do
not “set up” to be a critic; I only know
what pleases me, and thinkI know what
is true to nature.

The pictures I went to see were nearly
all water-colors, principally ﬂower pieces,
as I have said, and most of the ﬂowers
were roses and pansies. Now these are un-
questionably beautiful, but why does every-
body always paint them, to the exclusion
of everything else? They are universal
favorites, true; and as these pictures were
for sale, perhaps the subjects were chosen
with a view to what would best coax the
publicto part with its shekels. When I
had wearied of roses pink, red, white and
yellow, and pansies of all the hues they
make them in art and nature, I was pre-
pared to admire a trailing vine of wild
clematis, or “Virgin’s bower,” which with
its soft greenish-white, feathery bloom
againsta background of its own foliage,
was quite a rest to my eyes. A bowl
crowded with nasturtiums was given a
prominent place and a good light to bring
out their gorgeous coloring and bizarre
forms. A critic has said an artist should
always paint an object as he sees it. That
may account for the fact that the artist who

 

painted these failed to catch the peculiar

green of the foliage; she painted as she saw
it. When you contemplated these colorings
at a very respectful distance, you got “a
very good effect,” as they say. But when
you approached, they resolved themselves
into blotches of paint, hard and staring.
Of course that’s the “free hand,” the
“ bold and vigorous” style of painting; but
I am just crude enough in my ideas of art
to call it “ the wall-paper style.”

I had seen it mentioned that among these
studies was one of crabapple bloom.
Memory brought back a vision of a certain
wild crabapple tree 1 used often to visit
when “The Little Brown House ” was my
home, of its lovely pale pink, oval buds,
shading from the faintest blush to a rose at
the tips, as if Aurora’s ﬁngers had lingered
over them, set on slender greenish-yellow
stems in a whorl of green leaves, on a dark-
brewn, rigid stem. “I’ll have those,”
I thought,” “if the ﬁgure is not too high.”
But oh dear! they were not the blossoms of
my vision at all. They were fully opened,
very pronounced as to calyx, very ﬂat as to
shape, and “all in a wad” together; the
beauty of the crabapple blossom lies in its
half-opened and closed buds, which were
represented by some pink dots.

There was a vase of apple blossoms, a
much larger picture, which was well painted,
and faithful to nature. There was also one
of single yellow roses, the sort that grows
in old-fashioned gardens, massed with their
own delicate foliage; this was what Whistler
would call “ a symphony in yellow;” t he
background had just sufﬁcient yellowish
shade to bring out the pure, clear, pale yel-
low of the roses; and the frame, in some sort
of wood which showed its grain, had been so
treated that it shaded from the color of
the background, on the inner edge, to a
blending of gray and brown and yellow on
the outer. The effect was very 'ﬁne, the
work delicate and painstaking. The pret-
tiest thing in the room was a copy in oil, of
an old post with a crosspiece on which had
been tacked a notice, “ No Shooting Al-
lowed,” rising from a tangled clump of
golden rod and grasses and asters, a wild
vine rich in autumn’s gold and crimson
running riot about it, and a family of birds
perched on the bar or poised for a dart into
the blossoms below, as utterly fearless and
free as if the weather-stained prohibition had
been translated into bird language, and they
fully comprehended their immunity from
the Sportsman’s gun.

Over the way, in Mr. John Owen’s studio,
were some little things that were more

jonquils had been paired with a cluster of
narcissus just sold, but which I saw after-
ward; an overturned basket of daisies had
spilled its white luxuriance, its only fault
perhaps a too formal arrangement of the
scattered ﬂowers. There was a bit of
autumn here, a spray of golden rod and a
few purple and white asters, grouped as
you might gather them in almost any fence
corner in September; and a branch of cherry-
blossoms, painted as if you were lying on
the grass and looking up saw it against the
blue of a May sky; which wheedled out of
my purse the money I had put there for
those unsatisfactory crabs, and which,
framed in a narrow white and gold mold-
ing, I regard with feelings of profound
satisfaction; it need not be labeled to apprise
you it is a bit of a cherry tree. Some
landscapes shown here were very good; one
quite large painting represented a bit of
country highway, a high bank washed into
gullies by the rain, and fringed with grass
and weeds, a dusty road with the print of
wheels upon it, some cattle coming along.

I wonder why our artists who make a
specialty of ﬂowers, do not break away
from the hackneyed subjects, and try their
art in some new line. There’s primulas,
for instance, ﬁne subjects in either pink or
white; there’s the gold and bronze of the
coreopsis; the pink and white and pur-
ple bannerets of the sweet pea; the blue of
the Swan River daisy; the soft, feathery,
dainty lavender of the ageratum; and there’s
crabapples—a glorious possibility! Among
the wild ﬂowers, almost the only ones we
ever see on canvas are golden rod and asters,
and the wild swamp rose. Could I manage
brush and palette 1 would paint a panel of
the deep-hued cardinal ﬂower in its crimson
hood; there is a chance for something new
and novel in the branching candelabra of
the meadow lily, those deep oran ge-red
ﬂowers that grow in marshy spots, neigh-
bors to wild grasses and wanton vines; or
those eastern beauties, the wild tiger lilies,
Spotted like pards, which as Aldrich says

“ * * are tall and slender.
Their months are dashed with carmine;
And when the wind sweeps by them,
On their emerald stalks
'l‘hey bend so proud and graceful—
They are Circassian women,
The favorites of the Sultan.”
BE ATRIX.

A HINT.—“lea,” of Galesburg, en-
quires: “Do all the ladies of the HOUSE-
HOLD know theeﬂicacy of coal ashes for
scouring purposes? If not, give them a
trial. To my mind they are far superior to
brick, etc.; and I will chance them against
the famous “ sapolio ” for scouring knives,

 

pleasing to my ideas than the samples of
the “rose and pansy school.” A vase of

 

tins and copper. All a trial will cost you is
the trouble to sift the ashes.”


 

     

2

 

THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

 

 

WHERE DOES ECONOMY END AND
STINGINESS BEGIN IN THE HOUSE—
HOLD?

[Pap r read by Mrs. 5‘. F. ~lears at. the “ Ladies‘
Day“ at the Webster Furmers‘ Club, March
101 1.]

The ﬁrst thoughts that came to me. when
this question was proposed, were: What a
mean, hard question to answer! I wonder
who gave it? Some. man who had not had
all the buckwheat pancakes with lots of
maple syrup ever 3 morning, washdays and
all, for breakfast or Some woman who had
to make bricks r. ithout straw! But when I
learned who pro-posed the question, better
thoughts came, for are we not all liable to
fall into rats? The disagreeable began to
disappear at the dawn of the proﬁtable. I
know our fair-minded questioner would not
require me to go around and peer into this,
that and the other neighbor’s household and
point out to her where economy ends and
stinginess begins. A mental picture will
serve our purpose better. I wish it might
be of a model household—but no! it must
have a ghost in it, for economy has come to
an end, and only its spectre remains to
taunt its inmates with their illgotten gains.

It may seem superﬂuous to go to the dic-
tionary for a deﬁnition of the terms
economy and stinginess. Do we not all
practice the former; and if we have never
had a touch of the latter, do we not all
recognize it when we think we see it in our
fellow creatures?

Webster says economy is “afrugal and
judicious use of money; that management
which expands money to advantage and in-
curs no waste. It also includes a prudent
management of an the means by which
property is saved or accumulated; a judi-
cious application of time, of labor. and of
the instruments of labor.” Stinginess is
deﬁned to be “extreme avarice; mean
oovetousness, niggardliness; derived from
the word stingy—a word in popular use, but
low, and not admissible into elegant writ-
ing." I must confess to some degree of
ignorance of a proper and full deﬁnition of
this last term before looking it up prepara-
tory to this discussion. It is a more do-
grading practice than avarice, covetousncss
or parsimony. It does not seem as if it
would be difﬁcult to draw the line between
two such practices, one bringing a rich re-
ward, the other a curse. But for the prone—
noss of the human heart to evil the question
would seem a senseless one. I shall never
dare say again I feel stingy of anything I
happen to be nearly out .of, only wishing to
make it last by using sparingly till a fresh
supply can be obtained.

A household consists of all its inmates—
husband, wife and children: humanly speak~
ing, economy should be practiced by all
the family. Too often it is conceived that
only the wife is expected to practice
economy. The husband’s affairs are out-
side, and the children must have a good
ﬁrm, as it is falsely called. The wife indeed
is largely responsible for the proper manage-
ment of the family concerns; but with such
none-sided view of obligations economy is
likely no end in wasmfulness or stinginess.
Shem-st needs have large administrative
ohm. and-net physical strength to carry
how-slams of the tandem and allthe
1‘“. Womaybs almost sure she

will become wrecked in mind and body
sooner or later. Man is a more important
factor in a household than he is always
willing to allow himself to be made. He
should not withhold the. proper amount of.
time, labor and means within his power to
keep the, household machine in good run-
ning order. Few women on a farm have the
tact or time to put a disabled pump in work-
ing order: to mend a broken window with
another pane of glass: to replace a broken
door knob or keep Jack Frost out of a
cellar that needs a yearly embankment. A
thoughtful looking after the many little
needs will tend to insure a full and hearty
coppcration of all the members to make
home what it should be, not simply a
waiting place where meals and a night’s
lodging are furnished by hook or "rook, by
the feminine part of the family. The
children snould be taught the principles and
practice of economy, and not be let to grow
up with the idea that economy and stingi-
ness are nearly synonymous terms.

Households may be set up under this
blighting practice in them, but oftener it is
developed later, for houreholds have a
growth as well as individuals. Some
people may be born stingy, for we read “ the
iniquities of the fathers shall be visited
upon the children to the third and fourth
generations of them that hate Me.” Per-
haps it would be well it such could remain
solitary and not be set in families: that class
might then become extinct. Do we not
read-of such, who inhabit some attic in the
crowded city, some lonely but far from the
dwelling of man, passing their best days in
rags and ﬁlth and seeming poverty, when
death reveals their true character; they are
miscrs—men, seldom women. Do not un
derstand me to say women do not inherit
this bad tendency, only that they seldom
make such a public spectacle of it. 1 do
not know that the law of heredity makes
any discrimination in regard to sex in the
transmission of this trait of character. No
one ever said Eve was stingy, for did sire not
divide her apple with Adam? She lacked
cultivation, as shown by taking the ﬁrst
bite; but the point I wish to make is she
took a partner in her guilt and so wrought
greater ruin.

We hear people say it is not economy to
overwork day after day, year in and year
out; it is not a judicious application of time
and the instruments of labor, for thehuman
machine will soon wear out if thus used.
It should have rest and mental recreation,
along with physical effort. Also that it is
not economy to be scantily fed and clothed,
for thereby health is endangered. Yet we
know there are thousands of people who are
living in some or all of these conditions by
force of circumstances, without stinginess.
By whom then and where shall the line be
drawn between stinginess and economy?
The answer it seems to me must be each
household for itself by its circumstances.
We Shall not beso ungrateful and unworthy
children as to say our fathers and mothers,
who cleared, fenced and laid out these
beautiful farms all about us, were stingy
because they had not all the luxuries we
enjoy to-day. Senator Stamford, the rich
Californian, says, “ Almost every rich man

 

 

hashadtopncticc economyat sometime

 

in his life.” Are there not rich men and
women who still practice economy that they
may have enough and to spare for the Lord’s
treasury? These are no: the men and
women who grind the face of the poor and
starve their own souls and bodies for ﬁlthy
lucre’s sake.
W...
WASHING MADE EASY.

I have. been waiting several weeks to
hear some one tell Aunt Mary that there are
ways of making washing day much easier
than would even her excellent method.

I began washing at an earlier age than I
would allow my own daughters to do such
heavy work, but 1 had an invalid mother,
and we lived on alarge farm, where the
washings were so very large that hired girls
invariably hesitated before coming to us,
until assured that the daughters of the house
would do the washing, ironing, and any
other work too heavy or disagreeable for any
one else to undertake.

There were the delicate baby clothes,
half a dozen ﬁne shirts for father, brothers,
and two or three hired men, starched skirts
and print dresses for mother and the big
girls, underclothing, table linen and bed
clothing in shoals, and dirtiest of all, the
blue checked, striped hickory and coarse
white everyday shirts of the men, collars-
and wristbands black with dirt.

We went through the list of methods from
Ato Z. Poking the clothes to soak Sun-
day night—that meant the sacriﬁce of the
brief leisure that comes after church, Sun-
day school, dinner and dish-washing to the
farmer’s daughter—always the daughter,
for the “help” goes home to have a good
time and rest over the Sabbath; the chang-
ing of dress, or putting on of apron and
rolling up of sleeves, the hunt for soiled
clothes all over the house, strict inquiry as
to whether the boys had on their clean
socks or not, whether any child had escaped
its bath, or had been overlooked, for a mis»
take insured us a chance of rubbing all the
dirt out by main strength from the missed
article the next day.

A Bible exercise would have inspired a
more devotional state of mind, I feel sure.

Then the pounding barrel! I remember
yet about how much that pounder weighed,
and if there be an invention better cal-
culated to wear out clothes and waste a
woman’s time and strength, I do not know
it. To that succeeded a ponderous wooden
washer, which was a great improvement,
since awoman could not possibly work it,
and a man must be detailed for the pur-
pose, but it caused extra handling of
clothes and wore them out rapidly. There
was the big tin cataract washer which cost a
mint of money, did good work, but wasted
time and called for watchful eyes to keep it
from rusting; and the small tin aﬂair
which was to be placed in a common boiler,
and would do all the work by keeping a
constant current of boiling water running
through the clothes. It did seem to act
like magic at ﬁrst, but by the third washing,
when the agent had gotten safely out of the
neighborhood with his cash, the clothes were
yellow as saffron and the machine begin-
ning to rust. . .

There was the sal-soda mixture which in

 

   
    


  

THE HOUSEI—IOLD.

 

3

"‘

 

a year or so mottled all the clothes with
brilliant, fadeless yellow Spots, and the
urpentine mixture which we innocently
began to use, but which we were soon in-
formed would be likely to induce paralysis
or distorted and painful joints of the hands.
Father bought the ﬁrst wringer he ever saw,
but not until I had retired from many a
Monday’s contest with hands blistered on
the outside from rubbing, and on the inside
from wringing.

With all these methods came the inevit~
able boiler, calling for a ﬁerce ﬁre all Mon-
day forenoon, ﬁlling the house with steam
and a sickening scent of soapsuds, looser.-
ing wall paper, causing damp drops to stand
on all painted surfaces in winter, and
doubling the fatigue of the washwoman in
summer by calling on her to endure the
heat.

My ﬁrst hint that all this was worse than
useless came during a midsummer visit to
Boston, where I saw a washing done by
the inmates of a pleasant “ﬂat ” in Osborne
Place. Just before we sat down to break-
fast a teakettle of water was put to boil over
an oil-stove, a small cake of a peculiar kind
of soap that I had never before seen was
shaved up and put in a dish of warm water
to dissolve. After the meal, when the
gentlemen had gone down town to their
Ofﬁces, a tub was ﬁlled with rain water,
warmed by that teakettle full of boiling
water, the soap was added, and the soiled
clothes put to soak for an hour while the
ladies washed their dishes, put their rooms
to rights, etc. The starch was made and the
ﬁre extinguished until dinner time. Two
additional tubs were then ﬁlled with rinsing
water, the second one blued. One lady
slightly rubbed the clothes, and the soap had
so loosened the dirt that only slight rubbing
was needed; the second lady rinsed,
starched and hung out, and in less than two
hours that washing, not avery small one
either, was ﬂoating from the lines stretched
upon the ﬂat roof. My friend read my con-
tempt of such slack proceedings written in
my face, laughed and said “Just wait until
night and look at the clothes.” When I
went up that night to help her take down
that washing, 1 was a complete convert. I
never saw whiter, sweeter clothes, and all
with no heat, no steam, no horrible smells
to annoy the families in that great building,
no wasted time or strength. I was not then
a housekeeper, nor had these wonderful
soaps reached the country towns of Michi—
gan, but for years past both my neighbors
and myself have used this very plan with
perfect success. I heat water in a boiler
because I happen to have one, but I do not
keep it long upon the stove. As my wash-
ings are large, I usually put the clothes to
soak in two tubs, then in the water left
after the cleanest ones are rubbed, I soak
the colored clothes a few moments and wash
them in the same manner. Flannels are
washed like the white clothes, but rinsed in
warm water and hung up to 'dry immediately.
Of course I rub some of mine more than did
my Boston friend, but it is far less work
than so much handling and wringing. The
garments are neither spotted nor rotted; at
least they wear longer than they did under
the old process. Sometimes I pour clean

hot water upon obstinate streaks or stains,

 

 

or spread very much soiled articles on the
grass to bleach, and thus save extra rubbing.

I use “ anti-washboard ” soap, but there
are a dozen other brands nearly or quite as
good. One half bar to one tub-fut of cloth-
ing is suﬂicient. .1. G A.

PAW Paw.

._......____

NOTES FROM CORRESPONDENTS.

Mrs. E. D. G.,of Owosso, says: “ lenjoy
the HousEIIOLD very much indeed. and
haVe been a constant reader of the Farmer.
and that department for thirteen years. But
though I have often thought I would like to
write something for it, like many others I
have neglected to do so. I enjoyed reading
Evangeline’s letters, but confess to thinking
some of the bills of fare ra her elaborate —not
too elaborate to be eaten, oh no! not by any
means, but as taking so much time to pre-
pare when housekeepers on a farm have so
much to do. I keep house plants, and think
Mrs. A. B. Gulley’s cactus must be very

handsome. I wish to ask if any of the
readers of the HOUSEHOLD have the
Japanese hybrid catalpa advertised by

seedsmen, and if so, if it is as represented
in their catalogues.” All we know about
this catalpa is that it is a small tree of
handsome foliage, and ﬂowering early.

A lady asks: “ls the proper place to
wear a watch where some old women have
carried their valuables—in their bosom? I
don’t like it; it seems inconvenient and
immodest, but those hereabout who are
supposed to follow the fashion, wear them
so or in a ‘patch pocket.’ which looks too
much like being anxious to let everybody
know one is the owner of a watch.” The
“patch pocket,” in any position, is all out
of style. A little pocket is made on the
inside of the “buttonhole side” of the
dress, and the watch slipped into it. This
necessitates loosening a button whenever
the watch is to be consulted, but everybody
does it and no one thinks harm. Certainly
it is much safer than the excrescence known
as “patch pocket,” which offered great
temptations to thieves.

Here is a letter from a lady who wants
the HOUSEHOLD people to suggest names
for her little daughter. Oh no! A mother
who with the assistance of “her sisters
and her cousins anl her aunts,” cannot
name her own babies without calling on the
public to help her, don’t deserve to have any
to name. Give the little we a name
pleasant to speak. not fanciful or silly.
Rossetti, in “The Blessed Damozsl,”
speaks of those

“ * * * * whose names
Are ﬁve sweet symphonies,
Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen,

Margaret and Rosalys."

Bestow no “middle name,” but at mar-
riage let h-.r take the family name as such.
There is no reason why a. woman should
merge her identity in “ Mrs. John Smith ”
when she might with equal propriety be
“Mrs. Mary Brown Smith,” thus retaining
enough of her former individuality to be
recognizable by old friends who may hear of
her after marriage. Besides, it is more
“English” to have no middle name or
initial, just now.

“What use shall I make of a letter of
introduction,” asks ayoung gentleman who

 

    

subscribes himself “ Verdant.” You call
on the lady, and leave your letter of intro-
duction and your card, without asking to
see the lady, who if she is married, sends in
return an invitation to dinner, with her hus-
band’s card; if Ullllllil‘lt'd her father, or if
as in so manyeases the herd of. the family
is too much immersed in business, the oldest
son should call and invite you to call, or the
young lady’s mother sends an invitation.
Much less form titty attaches to a purely
business letter of introduction, which, with
the bearer’s card, is presented at the bu sinesa
ofﬁce, and implies no social obligations
unless through the courtesy of the recipient.
---—<O>———
WHAT WAS THE MATTER?

 

Readers of the llousizuonn will remem-
ber Beatrix’s caution in the issue of March
24th, relative to the use of cream tartar
in “angels‘ food.” The following letters
were received too late for insertion in last
week’s paper: L. L. H., of South Haven,
says:

“Last week when my husband brought
in the FARMER. he handed me the little
HOUSEHOLD, and as I always look at
the recipes ﬁrst, I saw Beatrix‘s ‘caution'
in regard to ‘angels’ food.’ There must
have been something else beside cream
tartar her friend put in her cake that
spoiled it. I have often baked it to serve
with ice cream, and it has also been tried
by a number of my friends with equal suc-
cess, if baked as directed.

“ I think a great deal of the little House
HOLD; the articles, asarule are quite in-
structive. I feel very grateful for the notes
on fashions, especially for the little ones, as
I have a little boy and girl, the boy just
going into kilts. I ﬁnd it quite tiresome to
ﬁnd ways of making his dresses; the sug-
gestions this week came just in the nick of
time.”

“ Buttercup” corroborates the above:

“ Beatrix’s friend certainly got hold of
some new kind of cream tartar, for that
cake has been made dozens of times by that
recipe, and is, as stated, just ‘beautiful;'
the dogs at Winﬁeld would not hesitate to
lunch on such ‘angels’ food.”’

Now, what was the matter? There was
no mistake about the cream tartar, it was
the genuine article. The eggs were fresh,
the ﬂour and sugar same as used in other
cooking with satisfaction. The cake was
everything it ought to have been, in appear-
ance, but even the greedy English sparrows
which whirled down upon it, ﬂew away
without lunching and expressed their noisy
dissatisfaction. The one thing I do know
is that the cake was made “ exactly accord-
ing to rule ” and the result was exactly as
stated. BEATRIX.

H.—

THE publishers Of the Farmer: last week
purchased a handsome photograph album
for the pictures of the HOUSEHOLD con-
tributors. Twenty—six pictures already
adorn its pages; and as a lady remarked
the other day, “ They’re a real nice-looking
lot of people, aren’t they?” We will be
glad to receive the pictures of our friends
and correspondents for the new album,
which is a large one with plenty of room for
all, and hope they will remember as when
their new photographs come home.


    

2 THE HOUSEHOLD.

 

WHERE DOES ECONOMY END AND
STINGINESS BEGIN IN THE HOUSE-
HOLD?

[Pap‘ r read by Mrs. S. F. sears at the “ Ladies’
Daryl} at the'Webster Farmers‘ Club. March
1 L .

The ﬁrst thoughts that came to me when
this question was proposed, were: What a
mean, hard question to answer! I wonder
who gave it? Some man who had not had
all the buckwheat pancakes with lots of
maple syrup ever) morning, washdays and
all, for breakfast or some woman who had
to make bricks nithout straw! But when I
learned who preposed the question, better
thoughts came, for are we not all liable to
fall into ruts? The disagreeable began to
disappear at the dawn of the proﬁtable. I
know our fair-minded questioner would not
require me to go around and peer into this,
that and the other neighbor’s household and
point out to her where economy ends and
stinginess begins. A mental picture will
serve our purpose better. I wish it might
be of a model household—but no! it must
have a ghost in it, for economy has come to
an end, and only its spectre remains to
taunt its inmates with their illgotten gains.

It may seem superﬂuous to go to the dic~
tionary for a deﬁnition of the terms
economy and stinginess. Do we not all
practice the former; and if we have never
hada touch of the latter, do we not all
recognize it when we think we see it in our
fellow creatures?

Webster says economy is “afrugal and
judicious use of money; that management
which expends money to advantage and in-
curs no waste. It also includes a prudent
management of all the means by which
property is saved or accumulated; a judi-
cious application of time, of labor. and of
the instruments of labor.” Stinginess is
deﬁned to be “extreme avarice; mean
oovetousuess, niggardliness; derived from
the word stingy—a word in popular use, but
low, and not admissible into elegant writ-
ing.” [must confess to some degree of
ignorance of a proper and full deﬁnition of
this last term before looking it up prepara-
tory to this discussion. It is a more de-
grading practice than avarice, covetousness
or parsimony. It does not seem as if it
would be difﬁcult to draw the line between
two such practices, one bringing a rich re-
ward, the other a curse. But for the prone-
ness of the human heart to evil the question
would seem a senseless one. I shall never
dare say again I feel stingy of anything I
happen to be nearly out .of, only wishing to
make it last by using sparingly till a fresh
supply can be obtained.

A household consists of all its inmates—
husband, wife and children; humanly speak-
ing, economy should be practiced by all
the family. Too often it is conceived that
only the wife is expected to practice
economy. The husband’s affairs are out-
side, and the children must have a good
time, as it is falsely called. The wife indeed
is largely reapon sible for the proper manage-
ment of the family concerns; but with such
a one-sided view of obligations economy is
likely to end in wastefulness or stinginess.
She must needs have large administrative
ability, and much physical strength to carry
herown share of the burdens and all the

will become wrecked in mind and body
sooner or later. Man is a more important
factor in a household than he is always
willing to allow himself to be made. He
should not withhold the proper amount of
time, labor and means within his power to
keep the household machine in good run~
ning order. Few women on a farm have the
tact or time to put a disabled pump in work-
ing order; to mend a broken window with
another pane of glass; to replace a broken
door knob or keep Jack Frost out of a
cellar that needs a yearly embankment. A
thoughtful looking after the many little
needs will tend to insure a full and hearty
cooperation of all the members to make
home what it should be, not simply a
waiting place where meals and a night’s
lodging are furnished by hook or r'rook, by
the feminine part of the family. The
children should be taught the principles and
practice of economy, and not be let to grow
up with the idea that economy and stingi-
ness are nearly synonymous terms.
Households may be set up under this
blighting practice in them, but oftener it is
developed later, for households have a
growth as well as individuals. Some
people may be born stingy, for we read " the
iniquities of the fathers shall be visited
upon the children to the third and fourth
generations of them that hate Me.” Per-
haps it would be well it such could remain
solitary and not be set in families: that class
might then become extinct. Do we not
read 'of such, who inhabit some attic in the
crowded city, some lonely hut far from the
dwelling of man, passing their best days in
rags and ﬁlth and seeming poverty, when
death reveals their true character; they are
misers—men, seldom women. Do not un
derstand me to say women do not inherit
this bad tendency, only that they seldom
make such a public spectacle of it. 1 do
not know that the law of heredity makes
any discrimination in regard to sex in the
transmission of this trait of character. No
one ever said Eve was stingy, for did sire not
divide her apple with Adam? She lacked
cultivation, as shown by taking the ﬁrst
bite; but the point I wish to make is she
took a partner in her guilt and so wrought
greater ruin.

We hear people say it is not economy to
overwork day after day, year in and year
out; it is not a judicious application of time
and the instruments of labor, for the human
machine will soon wear out if thus used.
It should have rest and mental recreation,
along with physical effort. Also that it is
not economy to be scantily fed and clothed,
for thereby health is endangered. Yet we
know there are thousands of people who are
living in some or all of these conditions by
force of circumstances, without stinginess.
By whom then and where shall the line be
drawn between stinginess and economy?
The answer it seems to me must be each
household for itself by its circumstances.
We shall not be so ungrateful and unworthy
children as to say our fathers and mothers,
who cleared, fenced and laid out these
beautiful farms all about us, were stingy
because they had not all the luxuries we
enjoy to-day. Senator Stamford, the rich
Californian, says, “ Almost every rich man

in his life.” Are there not rich men and
women who still practice economy that they
may have enough and to Spare for the Lord’s
treasury? These are not the men and
women who grind the face of the poor and
starve their own souls‘ and bodies for ﬁlthy
lucre’s sake.
_______...____.
WASHING MADE EASY.

I have been waiting several weeks to
hear some one tell Aunt Mary that there are
ways of making washing day much easier
than would even her excellent method.
I began washing at an earlier age than I
would allow my own daughters to do such
heavy work, but 1 had an invalid mother,
and we lived on a large farm, where the
washings were so very large that hired girls
invariably hesitated before coming to us,
until assured that the daughters of the house
would do the washing, ironing, and any
other work too heavy or disagreeable for any
one else to undertake. _

There were the delicate baby clothes,
half a dozen fine shirts for father, brothers,

_ and two or three hired men, starched skirts

and print dresses for mother and the big
girls, underclothing, table linen and bed
clothing in shoals, and dirtiest of all, the
blue checked, striped hickory and coarse
white everyday shirts of the men, collars-
and wristbands black with dirt.

We went through the list of methods from
Ato Z. Putiing the clothes to soak Sun-
day night—that meant the sacriﬁce of the
brief leisure that comes after church, Sun-
day school, dinner and dish-washing to the
farmer’s daughter—always the daughter,
for the “help” goes home to have a good
time and rest over the Sabbath; the chang-
ing of dress, or putting on of apron and
rolling up of sleeves, the hunt for soiled
clothes all over the house, strict inquiry as
to whether the boys had on their clean
socks or not, whether any child had escaped
its bath, or bed been overlooked, for a miso
take insured us a chance of rubbing all the
dirt out by main strength from the missed
article the next day.

A Bible exercise would have inspired a
more devotional state of mind, I feel sure.

Then the pounding barrel! I remember
yet about how much that pounder weighed,
and if there be an invention better cal-
culated to wear out clothes and waste a
woman’s time and strength, I do not know
it. To that succeeded a ponderous wooden
washer, which was a great improvement,
since awoman could not possibly work it,
and a man must be detailed for the pur-
pose, but it caused extra handling of
clothes and wore them out rapidly. There
was the big tin cataract washer which cost a
mint of money, did good work, but wasted
time and called for watchful eyes to keep it
from rusting; and the small tin aﬂair
which was to be placed in a common boiler,
and would do all the work by keeping a
constant current of boiling water running
through the clothes. It did seem to act
like magic at ﬁrst, but by the third washing,
when the agent had gotten safely out of the
neighborhood with his cash, the clothes were
yellow as saffron and the machine begin-
ning to rust.

 

 

rest besides. We maybe almost sure she

    

has had to practice economy at some time

\

There was the sal-soda mixture which in

 

$1139.83323‘W5W5.

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439.3003

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THE

HOUSEHOLD.

   

3

—‘

 

a year or so mottled all the clothes with
brilliant, fadeiess yellow spots, and the
urpentine mixture which we innocently
began to use, but which we were soon in-
formed would be likely to induce paralysis
or distorted and painful joints Of the hands.
Father bought the ﬁrst wringer he ever saw,
but not until I had retired from many a
Monday’s contest with hands blistered on
the outside from rubbing, and on the inside
from wringing.

With all these methods came the inevit-
able boiler, calling for a ﬁerce ﬁre all Mon-
day forenoon, ﬁlling the house with steam
and a sickening scent of soapsuds. loosen-
ing wall paper, causing damp drops to stand
on all painted surfaces in winter, and
doubling the fatigue of the washwoman in
summer by calling on her to endure the
heat.

My ﬁrst hint that all this was worse than
useless came during a midsummer visit to
Boston, where I saw a washing done by
the inmates of a pleasant “ ﬂat” in Osborne
Place. Just before we sat down to break-
fast a teakettle of water was put to boil over
an oil-stove, a small cake of a peculiar kind
of soap that I had never before seen was
shaved up and put in a dish of warm water
to dissolve. After the meal, when the
gentlemen had gone down town to their
ofﬁces, a tub was ﬁlled with rain water,
warmed by that teakettle full of boiling
water, the soap was added, and the soiled
clothes put to soak for an hour while the
ladies washed their dishes, put their rooms
to rights, etc. The starch was made and the
ire extinguished until dinner time. Two
additional tubs were then ﬁlled with rinsing
water, the second one blued. One lady
slightly rubbed the clothes, and the soap had
I0 loosened the dirt that only slight rubbing
was needed; the second lady rinsed,
starched and hung out, and in less than two
hours that washing, not avery small one
either, was ﬂoating from the lines stretched
upon the ﬂat roof. My friend read my con-
tempt of such slack proceedings written in
my face, laughed and said “Just wait until
night and look at the clothes.” When I
went up that night to help her take down
that washing, I was a complete convert. I
never saw whiter, sweeter clothes. and all
with no heat, no steam, no horrible smells
to annoy the families in that great building,
no wasted time or strength. I was not then
a housekeeper, nor had these wonderful
soaps reached the country towns of Michi-
gan, but for years past both my neighbors
and myself have used this very plan with
perfect success. I heat water in a boiler
because I happen to have one, but I do not
keep it long upon the stove. As my wash-
ings are large, I usually put the clothes to
soak in two tubs, then in the water left
after the cleanest ones are rubbed, I soak
the colored clothes a few moments and wash
them in the same manner. Flannels are
washed like the white clothes, but rinsed in
warm water and hung up to dry immediately.
Of course I rub some of mine more than did
my Boston friend, but it is far less work
than so much handling and wringing. The
garments are neither spotted nor rotted; at
least they wear longer than they did under
the old process. Sometimes I pour clean
hot water upon obstinate streaks or stains,

     

 

or spread very much soiled articles on the
grass to bleach, and thus save extra rubbing.
I use “ anti-washboard ” soap, but there
are a dozen other brands nearly or quite as
good. One half bar to one tub-fol of cloth-
ing is sufﬁcient. J. G A.
PAW PAW.
--———ow————

NOTES FROM CORRESPONDENTS.

Mrs. E. D. G., of Owosso, says: “ I enjoy
the HousEHOLD very much indeed, and
haVe been a constant reader of the FARMER
and that department for thirteen years. But
though I have often thought I would like to
write something for it. like many others I
have neglected to do so. I enjoyed reading
Evangeline’s letters, but confess to thinking
some of the bills of fare ra her elaborate —not
too elaborate to be eaten, oh no! not by any
means, but as taking so much time to pre-
pare when housekeepers on a farm have so
much to do. I keep house plants, and think
Mrs. A. B. Gulley’s cactus must be very
handsome. I wish to ask if any of the
readers of the HOUSEHOLD have the
Japanese hybrid catalpa advertised by
seedsmen, and if so, if it is as represented
in their catalogues.” All we know about
this catalpa is that it is a small tree of
handsome foliage, and ﬂowering early.

A lady asks: “is the proper place to
wear a watch where some old women have
carried their valuables—in their bosom? I
don’t like it; it seems inconvenient and
immodest, but those hereabout who are
supposed to follow the fashion, wear them
so or in a ‘patch pocket,’ which looks too
much like being anxious to let everybody
know one is the owner of a watch.” The
“patch pocket,” in any position, is all out
of. style. A little pocket is made on the
inside of. the “buttonhole side” of the
dress, and the watch slipped into it. This
necessitates loosening a button whenever
the watch is to be consulted, but everybody
does it and no one thinks harm. Certainly
it is much safer than the excrescence known
as "patch pocket,” which offered great
temptations to thieves.

Here is a letter from a lady who wants
the HOUSEHOLD people to suggest names
for her little daughter. Oh no! A mother
who with the assistance of “her sisters
and her cousins and. her aunts,” cannot
name her own babies without calling on the
public to help her, don’t deserve to have any
to name. Give the little ( no a name
pleasant to Speak, not fanciful or silly.
Rossetti, in “The Blessed Damozel,”
speaks of those

“ t t * * whose names
Are ﬁve sweet symphonies,
Cecily, Gertrude. Magdalen,

Margaret and Rosalys."

Bestow no “middle name,” but at mar-
riage let her take the family name as such.
There is no reason why a woman should
merge her identity in “ Mrs. John Smith”
when she might with equal propriety be
“Mrs. Mary Brown Smith,” thus retaining
enough of her former individuality to be
recognizable by old friends who may hear of
her after marriage. Besides, it is more
“English” to have no middle name or
initial, just now.

“What use shall I make of a letter of
introduction,” asks ayoung gentleman who

 

 

—.—

subscribes himself “ Verdant.” You call
on the lady, and leave your letter of intro-
duction and your card, without asking to
see the lady, who if she is married, sends in
return an invitation to dinner, with her hus—
band’s card; if unmarried her father, or it‘
as in so many cases the lleztd of the family
is too much immersed in business, the oldest
son should call and invite you to call, or the
young lady’s mother sends an invitation.
Much less formality attaches to a purely
business letter of introduction, which, with
the bearer’s card, is presented at the bu siness
Office, and implies no social Obligations
unless through the courtesy of the recipient.
u——-‘O>———-—

WHAT WAS THE MATTER?

 

‘ Readers of the lIorranOLn will remem-
ber Beatrix’s caution in the issue of March
24th, relative to the use of cream tartar
in “angels‘ food." The following letters
were received too late for insertion in last
week’s paper: L. L. H., Of South Haven.
says:

“Last week when my husband brought
in the FARMER. he handed me the little
HOUSEHOLD, and as I always look at
the recipes first, I saw Beatrix’s ‘caution'
in regard to ‘angels’ food.’ There must
have been something else beside cream
tartar her friend put in her cake that
spoiled it. Ihave oft-en baked itto serve
with ice cream, and it has also been tried
by a number of my friends with equal suc-
cess, if baked as directed.

“ I think a great deal of the little HOUSE-
HOLD; the articles, as arule are quite in—
structive. I feel very grateful for the notes
on fashions, especially for the little ones. as
I have a little boy and girl. the boy just
going into kilts. I ﬁnd it quite tiresome to
ﬁnd ways Of making his dresses; the sug-
gestions this week came just in the nick of
time.”

“ Buttercup ” corroborates the above:

“ Beatrix’s friend certainly got hold of
some new kind of cream tartar, for that
cake has been made dozens of times by that
recipe, and is, as stated, just ‘beautiful;'
the dogs at Winﬁeld would not hesitate to
lunch on such ‘angels’ food.”’

Now, what was the matter? There was
no mistake about the cream tartar, it was
the genuine article. The eggs were fresh,
the ﬂour and sugar same as used in other
cooking with satisfaction. The cake was
everything it ought to have been, in appear-
ance, but even the greedy English sparrows
which whirled down upon it, ﬂew away
without lunching and expressed their noisy
dissatisfaction. The one thing I do know
is that the cake was made “ exactly accord-
ing to rule” and the result was exactly as

stated. BEATRIX.
——-—.OO-——-—-

THE publishers of the FARMER last week
purchased a handsome photograph album
for the pictures of the HOUSEHOLD con-
tributors. Twenty—six pictures already
adorn its pages; and as a lady remarked
the other day, “ They’re a real nice-looking
lot of people, aren’t they?” We will be
glad to receive the pictures of our friends
and correspondents for the new album,
which is a large one with plenty of room for
all, and hope they will remember us when
their new photographs come home.


  

 

 

 

4:

THE HOUSEHOLD.

     

 

  

 

BREAD.

 

{A Paper read at the March meeting of the
Napoleon Farmers’ Club by Mrs. C. A. Wood]
In the composition of good bread there

are four important requirements; good ﬂour,

good yeast, thorough kneading and proper
baking. Flour should be white and dry,
crumbling easily again after being pressed
hard in the hand. if it is in the least
musty or sour, the chances are ten to one
.against your having good bread. Next in
importance to the ﬂour is the yeast. This
should be light in color and lively, efferves-
cing easily when shaken and emitting an
odor like ammonia. If dull or sour, it is
bad. Knead your bread faithfully. Do
not work the dough over without spending
any strength. A half hour is the least time
to be given to kneading a baking of bread.

Young housekeepers, and often those who

should have learned better, frequently fall

into a mistake in the consistency of the
dough. It should be mixed as soft as it can

be handled. The dough should be set in a

moderately warm place, and kept at an even

temperature. If it is toocool, the fermen-
tation is arrested, and the bread fails to
rise; if it is too warm, the work goes for-
ward too rapidly; and the bread is puffy and
strong. The former difﬁculty may be

remedied by more heat, and the latter by a

little soda dissolved in water and worked

thoroughly into the dough. While rising it
is much better to cover with a cloth or
paper,as that keeps the cold draugnts from it.

The oven should not be too hot, for too
much ﬁre at ﬁrst and then cooling off
forms a hard crust and leaves the middle
undone, or what is termed “ slack-baked.”
The heat should be uniform in all parts of
the oven, as this prevents the leaf from
cracking open, or one side rising lighter
than the others. When the loaves are baked
lay them on a cloth and bathe with sweet
milk, and put acloth closely over them.
This keeps in the steam, and the milk
makes the crust soft and tender. Some of
the best cooks think that laying a cloth
over hot bread injures its ﬂavor, and prefer
to leave the crust hard to covering it.

I make my yeast in this manner: I take
twelve medium sized potatoes and boil in
one quart of water. Mix two tablespoonfuls
of ﬂour smooth with a pint of boiling
water, two tablespoonfuls of brown sugar
and one of salt. When thoroughly mixed
add one quart of cold water, when
cool enough put in a teacupful of yeast,
and set aside to rise. Take a pint of this
fora loaf of bread. Set the sponge in the
morning and when light mold into loaves.
This will keep a week or two. The beauty
of this yeast is that you do not have to set
the bread at night and can have it all out
of the way in three hours’ time.

In the discussion which ensued, Mrs.
Weeks thought dry yeast was preferable,
as it saved time and we were more sure of
having sweet bread in warm weather; it also
done away with the trouble of making yeast.

Mrs. Cady preferred home-made yeast,
and thought milk made better bread than
water.

Mrs. Dean said she liked dry yeast, as
she could set her bread over night and it
was ready in the morning, but did not de-

mand immediate attention as wet yeast did.

 

 

Mrs. Halliday recommended “ potato

balls” for bread-making, and said she had
never had a poor batch of bread since she
had used them. They were made as fol-
lows:
and mashed, then mix one tablespoonful
each of sugar and salt and one-half of a
potato ball (which must be got from some
one who had used them, as they could not
be had or used in any other manner); then
take half your yeast for a batch and save
the other half for the next ball.
mended the best patent ﬂour for the best
bread.

One-half dozen of potatoes boiled

All recom.

—_—”———————
SCHOOL TEXT BOOKS

 

There is said to be a great improvement

in the matter of school text books since the
days when 1 was a pupil, and even since I
dropped the title of “teacher,” but if this
evening’s preparation for the spring exam-
ination is any proof, I should think there
was still room for improvement, at least in
the grammar.
third grade, but the audible buzzing on the
opposite side of the lamp amounted to: “ A
noun is a name word. Noun’s a name word.
Nounzanameword.”
word. Verb’s a naction word. Verbsanac.
tionword.” “An adjective is a quality word.
Nage’tive’s a quality word. Nage’tive’sa-
qualitywo
through the different parts of speech, and I
do not need to be told, as I am conﬁden-
tially, that “I didn’t pass the last time. I
could get these answers all right, but after
every one it says ‘give examples’ and I just
couldn’t do that no matter how well I
learned it, for I didn’t know what it meant;”
and I thought it was no wonder, for which
one of us old folks could give examples
from such a deﬁnition as that with no other
knowledge to assist us?

It’s only a little Miss in the

“ A verb is an action

.” And soon on over and over

I have been rusting out for several years,

so far as keeping pace with school matters
is concerned, because there was no one from
my family in attendance; but this winter
often ﬁnds me helping and “hearing me
say my lesson ” for alittle black-eyed Miss,
and I ﬁnd that the changes have been
numerous.
improvement, and that is the extra atten-
tion given to reading. To see them study-
ing the reading lesson as carefully as any
other gives a hope that we shall have better
readers in the future; while writing out the
spelling and other lessons must result in
better letter writers; and what gives one the
stamp of ignorance more surely than a
poorly spelled letter with no marks of
punctuation? Even ministers and teachers
are often very faulty when it comes to cor-
respondence, but this constant drilling of

One thing at least is a great

the children must count in the future.

In the matter of geography I could wish
that there was a law requiring the seats in
all school rooms to face the north. Then
the maps lying on their desks would be
straight and in the minds of the students,
the directions would be accurate, requiring
no mental turning around when a place is
mentioned, as I know many people do
through all their lives because, in spite of
their knowledge to the contrary, the loca-
tions will seem as they were in the school
room. I, myself, am one of the unfortunates

 

  

who must “face about,” in my mind, to
make the points of compass come right, be-
cause 1 studied geography from an atlas
lying on my desk, where I sat facing the
west.

Woe is me! I tried the recipe for ice
cream cake in the last HOUSEHOLD. I
added cream of tartar and soda, as nothing
for that purpose was mentioned. but after all
the result was tough and unsatisfactory to
Wasnrxaron. EL SEE.

.____...._

DRESSES FOR YOUNG GIRLS.

 

A pretty way to make a cashmere or
challi dress for a miss is as follows: Make
a plain skirt with four or ﬁve rows of
watered ribbon set around it, and a round,
deep overskirt similarly trimmed. Make a
yoke waist, with the yoke striped with per-
pendicular lines of ribbon; a sash of watered
ribbon or of cashmere with the ends ﬁnished
by rows of ribbon, is draped behind, just
like those worn by smaller girls. Another
way is to make a full gathered skirt, wlth
a waist pointed in front and buttoniug be.
hind. The middle of the waist in front is
laid in tucks just below the throat and
again at the waist line, the sp we between
being left loose and full. The full sleeves
are tucked top and bottom. With these
full skirts are also worn basques sloping
away from the throat in front to show a vest
of silk or of the dress material, set on the
underwaist to which the skirt is attached.

Wash-dresses for girls from six to ten
have belted waists with eight or ten feather-
stitched tucks down the front and back.
Three breadths of gingham or percale, or
four for larger girls, make the skirt. These
are plainly hemmed, but may be made more
dressy by several feather-stitched tucks,
though the trouble and labor are hardly re.
paid. Plain waists have collar and waist-

bands of white embroidery, and a V of all-
over embroidery in front with revers of the
edging; these revers may be made longer
and form bretelles over the shoulders.

Sailor hats are to be worn again by misses
and girls; the crowns are higher than last
year and the brims narrow and faced with
velvet. They are trimmed with a large bow
at the back or on the left side. Girls in
their teens wear English walking hats of
dark straw, trimmed with ribbons of two
colors. There are also pretty velvet-faced
pokes, trimmed with ﬂowers and ribbons;
some of them have soft silk crowns.

-——-—-¢O.—-——-
Contributed Recipes.

 

RAISED DOUGHNUTS.—At three or four
o’clock in the afternoon dissolve half of a
yeast cake in a little warm water, add a pint
of lukewarm milk and ﬂour to make a sponge:
let it rise four or ﬁve hours; add half cup of
butter or lard, one cup sugar; beat it well;
set to rise over night. When light, add one
beaten egg and one teaspoonful nutmeg,
ﬂour to mould; let it rise again, mould a little,
roll out, shape as desired, let them remain on
the moulding board in a warm place to rise
half an hour; fry in hot lard. M. J. W.

WATERFORD.

 

Anaan’ Foon.—Whites of eleven eggs;
one and a half tumblers of powdered sugar;
one tumbler ﬂour; one teaspoonfui cream
tartar: a pinch of salt. Flavor with vanilla.
Sift the sugar a number of times; also sift
the ﬂour, with salt and cream tartar, often.
Beat the whites to astiif froth, mix sugar and
whites together, add the ﬂour; add ﬂavoring
last. Do not butter the tin. Bake in a quick
oven, and turn on the side to cool. I can vouch
for this. L. L. H.

 

Sourn HAVEN.

  

 

 

