
  

\yp—L—

   

 

 

 

DETROIT, AUGUST 1,

   

1891.

 

 

THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement.

 

 

A REMARK ABLE H USBAND .

 

My wife can't cook. though she studies a book
Of recipes day after day.

But what do I care? She is charming and fair
And as sweet as the blossoms of May.

She tries all her might but her bread isn’t light,
For she never can get it to rise.

But then you should see as she breakfasts with me
The light that illumines her eyes!

No skill can she boast in preparing a roast.
And in pies her successes are few.

And ill she fares when soup she prepares.
For she’s sure to get into a stew.

But no fault do I ﬁnd. for she’s loving and kind;
And when bachelorship I foreook,
’ Twas to wed a sweet wife. a companion for life—

It wasn’t to marry a cook.
——N. Y. Press.

-—-——-.O-O-—---—

NOTES ON BACK NUMBERS.

 

Aunt Becky complains the boys are
too fond of stories and have no appetite
for solid reading; and wants to know
what can be done to overcome their
bias toward ﬂash literature. It seems
pretty late in the day to attempt to re-
form their tastes, especially if, as she
suggests, they’d take amild roasting
rather than be disturbed in their read-
ing. When the tide has well set in that
direction it’s an extremely difﬁcult
matter to turn it. Sometimes afancy
for that sort of stuﬁc attacks a lad, runs
its course, very like the measles, and
is cured when a few more years bring
better sense. But some never get over
it; and some weak ones are led away
and try to imitate their favorite burg-
lars and road agents and have un-
pleasantly personal interviews with the
police, for it is only in such books, for-
tunately, that evil deeds are heroic
and triumphant. And even if the boys
come through it all right, there’s been
lots of precious time wasted when they
might have been reading good books—
books worth remembering. This early
course of worse than nonsense is re-
membered, and undoubtedly has its
inﬂuence upon the after life, though
many have innate strength of character
which enables them to throw off most of
the eﬁects. _

The remedy lies rather in prevention
than in cure, and must be applied in
early youth. You cannot bring 8. nor-
ml boy Up on goody-goody books and
biographies of infantile saints who died
young. He wants and he will have, if
he is a lusty lad with a good appetite,

stories of adventures, of hunting and
perils by land and sea. So I should let
him have them, but not the kind he'd
select for himself. Get Scott for him,
and direct his eyes to Quentin Durward
and Ivanhoe; and Cooper’s Leather-
stocking Tales and the Boys’ Froissart,
Her Majesty’s Tower and Cast Up by
the Sea, and kindred books. These,
while giving him a knowledge of many
historical events and personages, will
satisfy his taste for battles. And Brian
de Bois Guilbert will be a better ideal
villain than Chicago Dick the Road
Agent.

The woman who desires to direct her
son’s reading must do more than call
his attention to the books and papers
she wishes him to read. She will have
to talk about them and discuss them in
his presence by way of rousing his
curiosity; she’ll have to talk them over
with him as he reads them, and quicken
his interest by her comments. If
she wishes him to take notice of
agricultural topics, he must have more
to do with the farm than just help do
the work. When he has a share in the
returns from a certain ﬁeld or particu-
lar crop, he’ll take an interest in
methods of cultivation. And if such
things are discussed intelligently be-
fore him and with him, he’ll be a queer
sort of aboy if pretty soon he doesn’t
begin to “ take notice.”

And here’s Priscilla complaining be-
cause she has to make the advances to
her neighbors, and coax them into
sociability. I’ve a notion she would
have liked to call them “stupid” be-
cause they are so slow in responding
to friendly overtures. But I am more
inclined to believe the cause is self-
consciousness and difﬁdence—they are
afraid of the comments of others; per-
haps they have themselves discussed
the manners and dress and said Spite-
ful things about people who have
“thrown themselves into the breach”
and tried to make a party “ go.” It is
dreadful to a hostess to see each guest
on entering her parlor engage in an
anxious search for achair, and when
found cling to it like a shipwrecked
mariner to a life-preserver; she sees a
row of women round the walls of one
room and a row of men in another, and

 

| somehow, like oil and water, they will
. not mix and be sociable. And when
you, Priscilla, in your genial way, pity

 

the distracted hostess and the poor
people who are having such adull time,
and go round trying to enliven them
and bring congenial souls together,
right with you there is a genial glow of
friendliness and chat, and before and
behind you there is a glacial calm. And
you wonder Why people will not “ thaw
out” and be cordial and friendly! Bless
you, it‘s because they’re not built on,
those plans and speciﬁcations. You
galvanize them into a momentary
warmth, but it's like a ﬁre of shavings
-—there’s no heart behind it and the
ﬂame quickly dies out.

And now let me ask you something,
dear Pris, “quite conﬁdential like.”
Do you feel, in that occult way in which
we women know things we don’t see
with our eyes, the glances that travei
over you—from head to foot and back
again, while you are thus benevolently
engaged in doing to others as you would
love to have them do to you? Do you
realize coldly critical eyes are deciding
you look more like a lath than ever in
a sheath skirt, that hangs look frivolous
on a woman of your years, and that
your dress is short-waisted? Do you.
feel they are weighing your kind words
and wondering whether they are
‘things said for politeness’ sake;” and
thinking how hard you try to be popular
and only succeed in being silly? Or
don’t you mind lit! le things like these?
I just wanted to know, you know.

There wasa time, not so long ago,
either, when it was the fashion to re-
press every sign of emotion, whether of
pleasure or regret, and maintain an un-
ruiﬁed calm. The model, I have always
fancied, was “Phineas Fogg’s” undies
turbed serenity under the exciting ad-
ventures of “Round the World in.
Eighty Days.” You met your dearest .,
friend just returned from the Antipodes .
with a cool “ Howdydo ” and a languid
hand clasp, though your pulses might
be bounding with joy; death claimed
your nearest, and your heart bled in-
wardly in a highly composed and dec-
orous fashion. Nobody was ever glad
to see anybody—or being glad, sedu-.
lously repressed all evidences of
pleasure. That was “good form.” But ,
warm-hearted people couldn’t stand that ,
fad, and even the icy class didn’t like it,,
for though they never thaw any one;
else, they are susceptible to genialityr
themselves and enjoy it. The fashion

   


 

passed, happily, and we may be glad or
sorry once more.

.A good many individuals, I regret to
say, do not live in love and harmony
with their neighbors. They allow
themselvestobe envious, and indulge
in uncharitable and unkind thoughts;
and nothing is truer than the saying of
Buddha’s, “All that we are is the re-
sult of What we have thought.” And
there are those who are reserved and
quiet by nature, to whom expression is
difﬁcult; and a far larger contingent
who are not accustomed to society and
social ways and are afraid of doing
something awkward, or which will
draw attention to them. Self-conscious-
ness is one form—and a very painful
one—of vanity. We think ourselves of
so much importance that all eyes are
upon us. Nine times out of ten others
are not regarding us at all, but are
wondering about themselves—suffering
frOm the same disease. Half the time
we fail of doing what we know we ought
and what inclination prompts us to do,
because self-consciousness stands in the
way. We would cross the room to speak
to a friend if we did not fear to draw at-
tention; we would take the initiative
in extending invitations if we were
sure our advances would be met in the
spirit in which they are made; in other
words, if we were not so afraid of what
people would say and think of us. We
are moral cowards, that’s all.

How can we become morally and
socially brave? First, by cultivating
the expression of friendliness and good
will toward others. Cultivating the
expression, I say. It is not enough to
feel cordial and kindly toward them;
we must express our feeling in word
and act. And as we do so, it willbe
more and more easy to feel the cor-
diality we show, more easy to forget
ourselves and our embarrassment; we
will make fewer blunders—and ﬁnd
people more willing to overlook them——
and will at last really enjoy meeting
people instead of dreading a stranger
more than an interview with a dentist.
And Priscilla will go about smiling and
happy, no more perplexed by social

conundrums. BEA TRIX.
W

MANAGING A HELIOTROPE

 

I havea passionate fondness for helio-
trope blossoms, and for a number of
years have tried to grow them; have
been repaid by some ﬂowers and more
disappointments. Last spring found
my potted plant, aged two years, in a
very discouraging condition; something
must be done. I was driven to a des-
perate resolve, for visions of beauty had
ﬂoated in my brain since upon a certain
day last season, when calling upon a
friend I had beheld a heliotrope which
had several years previous been placed
in a discarded box churn, ﬁlled with
good soil, and the plant well out back
each season when the blossoms ceased.
Well! it was a feast of beauty and fra-

 

grance. So with this inspiration in
mind I prevailed upon the “ gude
mon " to make me a box, not nearly as
large as the oneI had seen, but one
that can be easily handled to secure p ro-
tection from frost, or to ﬁnd plenty of
light and sun, as the need may be: said
box contains about twelve quarts of
leaf mould and sand. Into this pasture
my frail plant was turned about six
weeks ago. At some distance from its
roots was inserted a very small amount
of guano procured at the hennery. Re-
membering the warning of a friend
that browned leaves on the heliotrope
indicated a lack of water, I have given
it plenty of drink. It occupies a place
on the east porch and is a delight to its
admirers. Reaching up and over the
sides are some twenty branches from
twelve to seventeen inches long, each
with numerous side shoots, every end
of which promises early returns of
beauty. There are already four large
clusters of blossoms and ten of buds,
but I intend taking off slips next month
and rooting in water as is recommended
in the Ladies” Home Journal. least this
plant blossoms itself to death and I be
left doubly lone because of its present
luxuriance.

I would suggest to Aunt Becky, who
writes in the HOUSEHOLD of June 20th,
that even though she may already have
more literature in her home than her
family can read, she drops some of the
seven papers if necessary, and sub-
scribes for The Youth’s Companion. I
think her boys as well as herself will
not fail to be interested in it, and even
more so if they had read it for the past
fourteen years—that is the length of
time we have taken it. E. B.

Oscaom CENTER.

-w-“_...

THE OTHER SIDE.

I have always been an admirer of El.
See, usually agreeing with her ideas
expressed in the HOUSEHOLD, but as I
read her contrast between town and
farm life, “seemed like” I must speak
out, for the ﬁrst time in this paper.
I will acknowledge that I have never
lived in town, but I have sisters who
do, and I know something of their lives,
in fact one of them left the farm and
went there for the sole reason that she
could not do her work on the farm with-
out help, and could not procure any.

I know people in town complain of
having no time of their own because of
the numerous callers, entertainments,
etc., and believe they have just reason.
Still it seems to me that it is largely a
matter of choice. Peeple can rush into
a vortex of society or they can avoid it;
but on the farm, the hired men must
be fed (on time too), the cream must be
churned, the chickens fed, and over
and above all the children must be
cared for. In town, it baby is down
with the measles, the clubs and societies
can surely be better neglected than
could hired men, chickens, butter, etc.,

 

beslighted by the country woman un-
der the same circumstances.

Then again, El. See. seems to imply
that society makes no demand on the
farmer’s wife. I can in this case speak
from my own experience. In winter
weather there are many long days
when perhaps no one outside our own
family appears on the scene, not even
a passer—by. Then there is a much
prized Opportunity for reading and
getting acquainted with each other
(that is, if the hired man is at the barn).
Just here let me say there are weeks
at a time when I never see my bus-
band alone (excepting just at bed time
when both are too tired for conversa-
tion), because of the presence of hired
help: and I have heard other women on
farms make the same statement. But
to begin where I left off. In the sum-
mer time when our very busiest season
arrives, when the thermometer says
ninety or more in the shade, there also
arrive frOm one to a dozen city cousins
to spend their vacation in the country,
most of them people I have never
visited—never had time. There also
arrive numerous visitors from adjoin-
ing villages to pay calls I made last
winter. Then also come binder agents,
etc., too numerous to mention. I be-
lieve nothing ever made me more tired
of farm life than the inconsistency of
town people visiting us at all times and
seasons. I know country people annoy
them in the same manner sometimes,
but here is the advantage of being
near the markets. They can get al-
most anything they want at a few
moments’ notice, but on the farm, es-
pecially in busy seasons, we can not get
what we would like to set before our
guests, and with me that is the main
objection to unexpected company.
Now please do not think I am inhos-
pitable. I like company and invite a
great deal, and would ask more if I had
less uninvited company.

After all, I will freely acknowledge I
would prefer farm life for the freedom
it gives in many ways, but thought per-
haps El. See had forgotten some of
these things. LUELLA G.

 

OUR ADVENTURES ON cmcns DAY.

 

Nothing could persuade me to be out
of town circus day. It is something to
be looked forward to for weeks; a day
of unadulterated fun. This year we are
especially blessed, for Forepaugh’s has
been here, and Barnum’s is to come.

The morning of the circus I arose
early in order to have all my work
done by the time the streets began to
ﬁll with peeple; for needless to say, the
crowd is a greater attraction than the
elephants. I was all ready for the day
when a friend came for me, and we
started out on a tour of observation.
One of the ﬁrst sights which rewarded
us was a young man who had evidently
brought his best girl and her chum.
Poor fellow! they held either arm in a

 

 

 


 

 

 

The .Household.

 

,grasp which implied a suspicion that
he might get away if they let go for a
minute. They all chewed gum with a
regularity and precision that would put
clockwork to shame. There was the
same fascination in watching them that
there always is in beholding machinery
in motion. I wonder if they kept it up
all day, and if their jaws were tired at
night?

Most of the costumes might be de-
scribed by reversing the saying, “Neat,
but not gaudy,” for they were very de-
cidedly gaudy and not particularly
neat. One girl outdid the rainbow, for
her suit comprised eight colors. White
dresses with yards of ribbons flutter-
ing in the breeze were as prevalent as
usual on such occasions. These same
dresses were “things apart” toward
the close of the day when their wearers
were hastening to the trains; dust, pink
lemonade and a slight shower having
robbed the gowns of all their pristine
freshness.

The peramb'ulator was ubiquitous,
and kept us busy dodging; for the
mothers were altogether too much in-
terested in the unusual sights and
sounds to be at all particular about
other people’s rights on the sidewalk.

All my life I have wanted to carry a
little red balloon on circus days, and on
this particular day my longings were
gratiﬁed. A grave and digniﬁed pro-
fessor condescended to buy one for each
of us, and as we carried them down the
street we feltthat at last we had known
the real delights of a circus. But alas!
an umbrella in the hands of an envious
young woman penetrated mine, and it
collapsed. _

When the procession went by we were
so packed in the crowd that we could
catch only occasional glimpses of it.
This did not suit us at all, so we looked
around for a chance to ameliorate our
situation. An empty city dray stood
near us and we asked the driver if we
might stand up in it. He paid no at-
tention to us, and we supposed he was
engrossed in the parade, so repeated
our request. Still no answer, and we
were about to give it up when a small
boy beside the driver told us to climb
in. We did so, and afterwards dis-
covered that the man was deaf and
dumb; so we forgave his seeming rude-
ness. He had reason to be thankful
for one part of his inﬁrmity while the
steam calliope was playing. ,

I know of nothing that will draw a
bigger crowd than a circus processsion,
and yet what an unmitigated fraud it
all is! The feature of it that we most
admired was “Cleopatra” in a pink
Mother Hubbard. «- ,

When the clown brought up the rear
of the parade, we descended from our
elevated position without attempting
to thank the deaf and dumb man, and
hastened to the nearest soda fountain to
refresh ourselves with a glass of ice

cream soda. We decided that we had
had ci'rous enough for one day, so spent

 

a quiet afternoon at home, watching
waifs and strays of the crowd.
Now we are waiting impatiently for

Barnum’s. E. C.
PORT HURON.

 

HURRAE

 

Three cheers for Theopolus!’ Repeat
with a “ tiger.” for his uncommon com-
mon sense. Yes, yes, charity, patience
and sense should begin and dwell at
home in mammoth quantities, and of
the best quality. Not only this, but
they should be kept “on tap” and be
freely used; not put away with other
virtues to be brought forward and aired
on “ company occasions.”

The best way to regulate the in-
dividual supply and demand might be
to keep the supply constantly drawn
upon, as it seems to be the property of
such divine sweets that the more used
the larger the reserve. Remember, it is
personal use I am speaking of, not the
measuring out to others.

I wish to congratulate Theopolus and
all suffering victims of woman’s in-
humanity on their serene enjoyment of
“Home, sweet home,” and would like
an answer to the query: Does the sweet-
ness of the clean home compensate for
the bitter experience of wearing dream
neckties of stovepipes? We will hope
it is a time of rejoicing if only “well
done.”

Yes, I think with a skillful combina-
tion of the articles named, all worthy
enterprises might be made successes
without giving any one engaged the
horrors by day or harrowing dreams by
night! See what inspiration will do!
The July sun had made me a limp and
idle heap, but the clarion notes sent out
by Theopolus put spirit—not spirits—in
my listless form, and as I ﬁnished
reading the effusion I metaphorically
threw up my hat and broke into cheers
for the sensible writer.

The violent exercise of subduing
Mother Earth when in ﬁinty mood, in-
spired him to a high and true plane of
moralizing, and then his lucid state-
ment of facts—which experience only
could have moulded—so directly sug-
gests enchanting pictures of the op-
posite, any one must sympathize with
his wish for the change. (Buy a hay.-
loader, Theopolus, and escape a part of
hay-making horrors.) But here his un-
common sense. steps in, and tearing
himself away from the fascinating
picture he takes up the burden of life
once more. It is well if more of our
HOUSEHOLD readers will be like our
friend, “Of such as they have received,
freely give,” whether it be of good
advice, experimental knowledge, state-
ments of facts, records of experience,
sympathy or amusement.

Acknowledging my indebtedness in
all these ways, as wellas in many more,
I drop in this composite crumb with all

due deference to the rights of others.-

But again I repeat: Three cheers for
Theopolus! His admission to the'

 

HOUSEHOLD has worked wonders in his
case, as in others. I think by next
year he will grow equal to the occasion,
of helping “Mrs. T.” clean house and
enjoy the business, singing the strains
of “Home, Sweet Home.”

FAIBHOLM. A. L. L.

 

THE FIFTIETH ANNIVER'XARY.

 

Dill A. Tory wishes the HOUSEHOLD
to tell her how a ﬁftieth marriage an-
niversary can be pleasantly and appro—
priately celebrated in the country in
summer. We have been rather dilatory
in making reply to this request, but

perhaps “Better late than never,”'
after all.

The golden wedding is apt to be more
sad than merry. There have been

losses and crosses, bitter pains and
keen regrets; memory retraces the life-
path, and imagination pictures the

days when the pair were young and the
world was before them. Now they
know the end is near. If life has been

beautiful and blessed it is hard to realize
it is so soon to be over; if the way has
been through trials and struggles, there
is little happiness in recalling them.
In the review of any life, such as these
anniversaries bring to all thoughtful
hearts, there is much to sadden and de-
press. We see our errors, we realize
our mistakes, but alas! they are beyond
recall. The life record is made up,
it only waits the summing of the last
page.

Not too much hilarity, then, for this
ﬁftieth wedding day, for such ghosts as
come to the feast are not scared by the
mirthless laughter of old age. Not too
much excitement, which often proves
injurious to strength and nerves.
There should be hidden to the feast
any of the guests at the ﬁrst celebra-
tion who survive. The bride should
wear some garment or ornament she
wore then, if such remains. Some-
times the aged couple renew their vows,
expecting to keep their next half cen-
tury’s anniversary together in Heaven;
and sometimes the minister offers a
prayer suitable for the occasion, after
which the ancient bride and groom re-
ceive the congratulations of their
children, grandchildren and friends. A
wedding cake is prepared, with a ring
in it; and on the frosting are the dates,
ﬁfty years apart, and the monogram of
the two. If any friend has the
“fabulty " which enables him or her to
express beautiful and appropriate
thoughts in verse, such a poem may be
read. Repeat, in a measure, the usual
wedding etiquette, and do not let your
old folks get too tired.

The invitations should be printed in
gold” on thick white cards, bearing the
anniversary dates. The gifts are not
necessarily of gold, though it is a good
idea for the children or grandchildren
to unite in the purchase of a god-
headed cane, gold brooch or other suit-
able golden testimonial. The rule that
the gifts shall be of the material des-

 


 

   

The Household.

 

 

 

ignated by the anniversary, which is
so ‘rigid in the case of tin and silver
weddings, does not obtain at the golden
wedding. A covetous little friend
thinks it “an awful shame” that the
silver and golden weddings should not
occur earlier in the married life, so the
couple “can get some good out of their
nice presents.” But it’s a good thing
aﬁairs are arranged as they are to
those of us who have to make the
presents—and expect never to have any

anniversaries of our own.
BEATRIX.

#—

TEOUGETS FOR OTHERS .

 

' The HOUSEHOLD has been an ap-
preciated visitor in our home for several
years and we have received so many
excellent recipes and useful thoughts
that I should like to give you my re-
cipe for chocolate cake, which I think
can not help pleasing Vivian. [The
recipe will be found on the last page of
this issue.-—ED.]

I wonder sometimes while we are
well and spending so many happy days
in visiting, receiving company or at
summer resorts, ' if we do not almost
forget the less fortunate ones languish-
ing on beds of pain and distress, who
realize the very slender thread bind-
ing soul and body. Perhaps we are not
acquainted with them, then of course
there is nothing for us to do.

Ah! we forget the happy smiles that
greet the basket of fruit, the bouquet of
ﬂowers, or the little delicacy prepared
by same loving hand—the sweet tokens
of kind friendship. The human heart
in adversity and afﬂiction ever swells
with gratitude in response to loving
acts and words of comfort. Doing all
we can to make the rough places
smooth, which is virtually “Doing by
others as we we would- be done by,”
makes a happy world.

Common.

MAN DEE.

 

TOMATOES.

 

“ Love Apples,” they were called, and
were prized for their pretty fruit only
till some one taught us they were
edible. Then some empiric said they
caused cancer, and those credulous
beings who believe everything they
hear accepted the assertion and refused
them with horror. But now almost
everybody knows they are as healthful
a vegetable as we have in the garden,
and the consumption is increasing every
year.

The tomato was introduced into Eng-
land from South America in 1596, but
as a botanical specimen rather than an
edible vegetable. A story is told of an
old lady who cherished a plant as a
great curiosity and was horriﬁed one
day at seeing her son, just returned
from a long voyage at sea, eating what
she supposed was its poisonous fruit,
and 'not until she found he was neither
dead or crazy the next day could she
be convinced of the absence of danger.

 

There’s a great difference in the
quality of tomatoes. We have them in
market very early. They look nice
but do not taste good. Savor strongly
of money, for one thing; and being
picked before entirely ripe and the
ripening process continued in transit,
the ﬂesh is ,tough and ﬂavorless. It is
not until the Michigan product is on
hand that we really enjoy them at their
best estate. They are delicious au
naturel. If you don’t know what to have
as a relish for tea, try a dish of sliced
tomatoes eaten with sugar and vinegar.
They are equally healthful and ap-
petizing for breakfast. Like fresh
fruit, you can serve them this way at
any meal and be perfectly certain you
are eminently “correct” in so doing.
If you wish to cook them, there is an
inﬁnite variety of ways in which to
prepare them.

To stew them, turn boiling water
over them to remove the skins, cut up
and stew for half an hour, allowing to
every dozen tomatoes a tablespoonful
of butter, and a teaspoonful each of salt
and Sugar with a dash of pepper.
Thicken with cracker or dry bread
crumbs. A cup of cream is a good ad-
dition.

To bake, remove the skins as above;
lay the tomatoes in a buttered dish,
with a bit of butter on each. Cover
them with a layer of bread or cracker
crumbs into which you have stirred a
teaspoonful of salt and a little pepper.

To fry, cut in thick slices: dip in
flour in which you have mixed a little
salt and pepper, fry brown in a little
butter.

To broil, slice, and lay in a wire
broiler. When done—in about eight or
ten minutes—lay on buttered toast and
spread with butter.

To boil, choose ﬁrm and not over-
ripe tomatoes. Lay them side by side,
without paring, in a kettle of hot water.
They will be done in ten minutes. Lift
out with a skimmer, into saucers; cut a
cross on the top of each and insert a
piece of butter, season with salt, pepper
and a little sugar.

Escalloped tomatoes require a but-
tered dish, in which are alternated
layers of sliced tomatoes and bread or
cracker crumbs, seasoning each layer
with butter, pepper, salt and a very
little sugar, and ﬁnishing with a layer
of crumbs.

Devilled tomatoes are nice to serve
with cold meat. Slice ﬁrm tomatoes
half an inch thick. Make a dressing
of the yolk of a hard-boiled egg,
smoothly mashed with a tablespoonful
each of vinegar and melted butter,
with salt, pepper and French mustard
to taste. Bring this to a boil, pour
slowly over a well beaten egg, beat to a
smooth cream; broil the tomatoes and
pour this over them as a dressing.

To stuﬂ tomatoes, select large ones of
even size, with a sharp knife scoop out
a place on the top of each, and ﬁll with
adressing made by frying abit of

 

onion, chopped ﬁne, in a tablespoonful
of butter; when done stir in bread
crumbs moistened with a little milk or
water and season with pepper and salt.
Put a little of this in each cavity, top
off with a piece of butter, and bake.

 

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

 

IT may interest housekeepers to know
that an easy way to test the quality of
fresh ﬁsh is to try to bend them just
above the tail. If they bend easily they
are probably a little stale, but if rigid
they are certainly fresh.

 

ABOUT this time of the year put an
old pan containing a big lump of un-
slaked lime in the cellar, to kill un-
pleasant odors, sweeten the air and
absorb dampness. The cellar walls pre-
sumably received a coat of whitewash
this spring.

 

IT is a fact, which our over-particular
housekeepers will do well to remember.
that home-making and model house-
keeping are not synonymous terms. The
most exact and tidy housekeeping often
results in an uncomfortable home,
where the real genesis of the home, the
comfort of its inmates, is sacriﬁced to
rigid order and spotless cleanliness.

 

WHEN you bake pancakes, do not put
so much butter or lard on the griddle
that the cakes seem saturated in it, the
edges showing fat when pressed with a
knife. Have a little mop of clean cloth,
and dip in fresh fat, or a piece of salt
pork makes a good “ greaser.” And
have the griddle hot; a “ white-liver ”
pancake is only a triﬂe less abominable
than half-baked pie-crust.

GOOD Housekeeping advises us that
when tablecloths begin to wear in the
middle or at other folds, (and good
housekeepers always have them care-
fully folded, in one way usually, so the
folds always wear ﬁrst), a few inches
cut off one end and one side, and re-
hemmed, will alter the place of all the
folds completely, and give a new lease-
of life. The side hem, to be turned
down once only, and end cat-stitched
and sewed on the machine afterwards,
looks more like the usual selvedge
than the ordinary twice-turned hem.
The same may be done to napkins, if
large enough to allow it, as well as to
towels—though these two last should
be hemmed on both sides, not eat-
stitched.

 

Contributed Recipes.

 

Cnocom'ra CAKE—TWO eggs; one cup of
sugar; piece of butter size of walnut; one-half
cup sweet milk; two teaspoonfuls baking
powder. Filling: One cup sugar; four
tablespoonfuls of sweet milk; one-fourth
cake chocolate, grated. Boil three or four
minutes; stir constantly, and when just warm
spread on the cake. Mm Dan.

 

 

 

 

