Chapter X: Part I: Motherly Talks with Young Housekeepers (7)

A FRIEND writes: “I have been much interested in the Grand Patching and Darning Exhibition; but my husband is rather skeptical as to any great good resulting from it. He seems to think it a waste of time to do this work with such particularity, and doubts if, in these days of plenty, women will find it necessary to patch, piece, and darn so elaborately. I reply, that probably a large portion of those who have seen or read of this work may never be called upon to do it; yet we know that there are many, very many who are, and will be, compelled to _economize material, though at the loss of time_; and therefore I think this exhibition will prove a good thing, if it should lead to a more thorough knowledge of the way to do this work well. How much more respectable and comfortable the poorer classes could be made, if the wife and mother understood how to piece, patch, and darn neatly, and so contrive that the smallest scrap could be used to good advantage and present an attractive appearance. I wish you would give us a talk on this subject.”

So much has been said, and well said, since this Exhibition was first planned, that a word from us may seem quite superfluous. A motherly care for our “Household,” however, tempts us to venture, though we do not intend to weary our readers with many words. Every point has already been ably discussed, and we can furnish nothing new.

Possibly, many of those who have read about this “Darning and Patching” have turned away, saying, “Thank fortune! I shall never need to employ myself about such work; I should feel that I was spending my time foolishly.” Would the time spent in perfecting yourself in this accomplishment be more wasted, think you, than that which you give daily to crocheting and embroidering a host of things unlike aught in heaven above, the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth? And yet, the time spent in fancy work has taught you little that you could turn to practical use, should reverses befall you,--and who is secured against reverses? Fortune is fickle, and policies taken out in her insurance companies are not reliable.

We would not speak slightingly of many kinds of really elegant fancy articles and ornaments which women’s skill has wrought. If you have the time to spare, then, “these ought ye to have done, but not to leave the other undone.” Should disaster come, and any of us be compelled to “rise up early, and sit up late, and eat the bread of carefulness,”--to plan and turn and contrive, using all the skill we possess to “gar auld claes look amaist as weel’s the new,”--how thankful we should be that in our younger and more prosperous days we had been taught this art, and by it were now able to carry with us into our altered circumstances a power to bring light out of darkness. If one knows how to renovate and remodel, there is far more genuine pleasure in using the knowledge to construct new out of old, than can possibly be gained while shopping on the most extravagant scale. To walk into a store with a full purse, and buy, without stint, whatever the eye covets; to send the material to the dress-maker, and have it made and brought home without any effort on our part, is a tame enjoyment compared with contriving the dress from a scanty pattern, or from odd bits and ends. We weary of that which costs us no toil or thought; the charm soon vanishes, and we seek for something new.

Now, suppose you examine a dress that has done good service. It is somewhat spotted and a good deal soiled; but you say, “It is so pretty and becoming, I shall feel like losing an old friend if I throw it aside; what can I do to renew its beauty?” If the material is silk or woolen, even of the most delicate colors, you can very easily clean it without fading. After ripping it with care, prepare equal parts of _alcohol, soft soap, and molasses_. Half a pint of each will clean a silk dress, unless you have wasted twenty-five or thirty yards on one dress; in that case you will need a larger quantity of the preparation. Have near you two small tubs or pails of water, one warm, the other cool, unless the material is woolen, when you should use hot water for both. Spread one piece of the dress at a time on to an ironing-sheet; dip a clean sponge into this very dirty-looking, but very effective wash; rub each spot separately till you have cleansed it; then, keeping the sponge wet, go over the whole piece, wetting it thoroughly, and carefully removing the dirt and spots. When satisfied that you have done your best, rinse the piece faithfully in the first water; do not wring it, but hold it up and let it drain a moment; then shake and snap vigorously, to remove as much water as you can. Put it through the second water in the same manner; snap as dry as you can, at least so that it will not drip; spread smoothly on the ironing-sheet, and iron quickly. Be careful to _iron by a thread_, and iron till perfectly dry. Have your irons as hot as you can use without scorching. If the material is the same on both sides, iron on that which was first used as the outside of the dress, but make it up inside out.

This preparation is such a vile, dirty-looking compound, one would suppose it would ruin anything touched by it. Not so at all. We have cleaned the most delicate silks and ribbons,--blues, violets, pinks, and greens,--and have never failed to secure a very good renovation of the materials, without changing or weakening the color, or leaving the harsh, stiff crackle on the silk which washing usually gives.

Having cleansed the dress, now, suppose you see how much ingenuity you can display in remodeling it. Change the gathers or pleats, that the most wear may fall on stronger spots; alter the position of trimming to hide some weak place, or improvise something to suit the exigencies of the case. If cracked or much worn at top and bottom, cut off all that must go; then cut the upper part of the skirt off from the bottom, about as high up as you wish your trimming to go, and set in a piece of lining or paper muslin, to supply the length of what you have cut away from the broken parts of the skirt. Over this “sham” lay the fold, puff, ruffle, or flounce you have prepared for trimming. It is good economy, we think, to buy a large pattern when you get a new dress, that there may be some left for repairs, at least for new sleeves and waist; but if you have none, _piece_,--piece very neatly, of course; and with ribbon, silk, or velvet, of a color to contrast, or harmonize with the dress, form your trimmings.

By skill, a garment may be so entirely metamorphosed, that your “dearest and best” will compliment you on your new dress. The only good thing about the present style of overskirts, flounces, paniers, bows, and every conceivable and inconceivable shape of trimming, is, that it is a wonderful help in making old things new.

Some time since, we noticed that a young friend, who is generally remarkably neat and simple in her taste, was rather more elaborately dressed than usual. We honestly complimented her on the pretty silk, the fine fit, and very becoming color.

“But I see,” said she, “you refrain from a word of commendation for my trimmings. They don’t suit your taste, I know, my friend, and pray don’t think that they are in exact accordance with my own. Let me tell you a secret. Every bow, band, strap, fold, and frill hides a piece set in or a hole mended.”

In the midst of a large company, there was not a lady that appeared more genteelly or better dressed than our friend. If there were more like this modestly independent and industrious girl, we should hear very little of the talk, so common nowadays, that young men are unable to marry, _because_ the young ladies are so extravagant.

XLII.

ACCURATE WEIGHTS AND MEASURES IN COOKING.

YOUNG housekeepers very often complain that, notwithstanding their most earnest efforts to work in strict accordance with given rules or receipts, their failures are more frequent than their successes. They admit that sometimes their work proves satisfactory, but ask, “Why should it not always be so?”

The difference in the results of their various trials can only be attributed to the method and accuracy, or to the haste and carelessness, with which their labor is performed. Unless there was some fault in the materials, some difference in the quality, arising from change between the successive trials, or the oven and fire were not properly regulated, there can be no reason for the failure, except the fact that the receipts and rules were not always strictly followed.

“But,” say they, “we used to see our mothers throw the materials together, apparently without thought, and we have often seen others set about the work of making cake, pies, or bread with such an easy, nonchalant air that, to our inexperienced eyes, it was perfectly marvelous that any good results could possibly follow; yet the article would come from the oven in all respects perfect. Time after time we have seen this done, and the work always blessed with a satisfactory termination; but if we attempt that mode of labor, the most disastrous and mortifying consequences are sure to rise up against us. Why is this?”

Simply because you are attempting to walk before you have learned to creep, and naturally get some sore falls by the premature attempt. It is only when accustomed to this labor by long years of constant practice, so that it is done almost by instinct, that any one should venture to deviate from strict observance of well-established rules. But there are very few, comparatively, of the most accomplished and mature housekeepers who attempt this free-and-easy way of cooking; or if, in some emergency requiring haste, they are driven to it, they will assure you that they seldom succeed so perfectly as they would have done had they weighed and measured with their usual care and precision. Occasionally we find a few natural-born cooks, with “a law unto themselves,” just as we find persons who have a natural gift for dress-making and millinery, whose work, performed instinctively, equals any French _modiste’s_. But such cases are rare, and, we are inclined to think, undesirable, except for one’s own ease. Where there are young girls about, either in the family or among friends, who may be obliged to look to you for instruction, you would find it very difficult and embarrassing, had you that gift, to attempt to teach or put into words anything which you are able to do so entirely by intuition. Even in your own mind, you would find yourself at a loss how to frame a definite rule or receipt for doing it. Your _hands_ seem to perform it independently of your _head_. Let some of these gifted ones attempt to write out a receipt which a beginner could easily follow, and they would make much more awkward work of it than you do in your efforts to work without a definite rule.

“But even when we do proceed in exact accordance with the receipts, we often fail.”

Are you sure you are _exact_? We think not. It requires some little experience to be able to weigh and measure correctly, and we have often noticed that it is the lack of this experience which causes failure in most young housekeepers. If it lacks “only a little” of being full weight, or is “only a little” too much, are you not very likely to say, “O, it’s quite near enough; such slight difference can’t matter, and I am in a hurry”?

“Only a little thing” has done much harm in almost every department of life,--a mischief that is often irremediable. If there is only a little too much flour, your bread or cake will be solid; not heavy, perhaps, but lacking that light, tender state which is so desirable. Or, if only a little less than the proper measure is used, it will “fall” from the crust, and come upon your table flat and sodden.

A pair of scales and accurate measures are the only safe reliance, but these are not always to be found in every family. It is, therefore, very desirable to have always at hand a table of correct _measures_. Indeed, when the table is perfect, it is much more convenient and easier to prepare the proper proportions by measuring than by weighing, only one must use care and judgment to allow for any extraordinary moisture in the articles, as it would affect a measure more than scales. It is always better to put flour, meal, sugar, etc., near the fire to dry before measuring.

A table of measures, plainly printed in good-sized type, should be hung over the table or on the wall in every kitchen.

We close with a convenient table of _liquid and dry measure_:--

LIQUID.

60 drops = 1 teaspoonful.
2 teaspoonfuls = 1 table-spoonful.
4 table-spoonfuls = 1 half-gill.
8 ” = 1 gill.
2 gills = 1 tumblerful or half-pint.
2 tumblerfuls = 1 pint.
2 pints = 1 quart.
4 quarts = 1 gallon.

DRY.

2 even teaspoonfuls = 1 even table-spoonful.
4 ” table-spoonfuls = 1 ounce.
8 ” ” = 1 gill.
2 gills = 1 tumblerful or half-pint.
2 tumblerfuls = 1 pint.
2 pints = 1 quart.
1 heaped q’t sifted flour } = about 1 pound.
1 ” ” sugar }
1 even q’t softened butter}
1 pint of water = 1 pound.
10 eggs = about 1 pound.

XLIII.

TEACHING LITTLE GIRLS TO SEW.

“YES, I suppose I shall be obliged to teach my little girl to sew, some time; but I am very thankful that I have some years yet before I need take up this cross. I supply her with bits of cloth, needles, thread, and scissors, and let her amuse herself with an attempt at sewing; but how I dread the time when I must begin in earnest, and try to teach her the proper way! I sometimes hope that by letting her botch and play sewing, by and by, as she sees me making even seams, and taking small stitches, she will, by imitation and observation, gradually learn, without much effort on my part. Do you not think that she may?”

Never. No doubt some children learn with much less effort than others; but by letting your little girl “play sewing,”--_botching_ as you term it,--you only connive at her acquiring a careless habit which she will not easily exchange for straight seams and tiny stitches.

“Would you advise me to keep thread and needles and cloth from her, and endeavor to interest her in some other play, till such time as I am compelled to teach her how to use them properly?”

No; why should you debar her from such innocent amusements? Why not begin at once to teach her how to do a thing right, even when in play?

“Teach that baby! What can she learn at her age?”

Can she not thread her needle?

“Certainly; quite expertly.”

And can she not push her needle in and out of the cloth?

“O yes; for a baby, she shows quite a genius for this quiet kind of womanly accomplishment.”

Then you see she can learn something, notwithstanding her youth. How much more maturity or skill, think you, will it require for her to learn, by a few well-directed efforts on your part, how to put the needle in at proper distances, taking up only just so many threads for a stitch?

“Why, she is only a baby; but little past three years. Teach her! How preposterous! You must be--”

Growing imbecile, you think. Very likely; but these ideas are no indication of it. They are good, solid common-sense, we think; such as our mothers and grandmothers acted upon, in the olden times, when early teaching and genuine industry were fashionable; when there were more busy bees to “improve each shining hour” of childhood; when these first years, which were then passed in “books and work and healthful play,” were a thousand times more childlike and happier than our days of modern improvement. Now, the toddling wee things are carried in the nurses’ arms to infant parties, dressed and flounced and frizzed, until every vestige of simple childhood is lost in their painfully ludicrous efforts to imitate their more foolish elders,--kept up far beyond a healthful bedtime, and fed with food injurious even to mature stomachs, but ruinous to a child’s digestion. Ah, dear little woman! will it be a harder task, requiring more skill and patience, to take your little girl on your lap, ten or fifteen minutes every day, and show her how to hold and use the needle; taking the warm, soft, innocent little hands, with loving caresses, into yours, and guiding the tiny fingers, until at last she learns to put the needle through the cloth, at proper distances, unaided; will this be harder or more tiresome than to dress and worry over your little one till she is drilled in dancing, taught to bow and curtesy, and gracefully accept her baby partner’s hand in the dance? Will it give you no pain to see the first development of envy, jealousy, and ill temper forced into active growth under such training? Compare this toil and responsibility with the soft and loving prattle of your little girl, as she nestles in your lap, and, with merry laugh, watches the bright needle go to and fro; and when at last she masters one stitch, and you pronounce it _well done_, will not her shout of triumph repay the teacher’s trouble? Will it any longer be a work to dread? On the contrary, will you not look forward to that daily lesson as the sweetest duty of the day?

“All this sounds very pretty; but when we come to the reality,--the big stitches, the long stitches, the puckers and gathers, the mistakes and vexatious carelessness,--how many yards of cloth will be wasted before one inch of decent sewing can be accomplished by a little child?”

Not one. Cut out a little block of patchwork. Tell the child that she may make a quilt for her doll’s bed just as soon as she can do it well. Use pretty, bright colors. Take her on your lap, and show her how a stitch must be taken, making merry, gentle speeches to her as the work goes on. “See, pet, you must take up two of these threads on that side, and put your needle through two more on the other side, then pull the needle through; that’s one stitch; mamma did that. Now let’s see the little girl take one just like it. No, no; let mamma hold your hand steady. There, that’s right. Now you may try again. See, you have taken up a _leetle_ too much on that side. We’ll just pull that out, I think, and try again. It was pretty well, but a little bit longer than the last, and I guess Dolly won’t quite like it; so we’ll pull it out, and be very careful next time. There, that’s my little woman! You have made three nice stitches, and we will put up the sewing now, and run out doors to play. When papa comes home, mamma will have to show these pretty stitches, and he will be very much pleased.” In this way, it will not be many weeks before the square for Dolly’s small bed will be finished, and you will say, “My little daughter has done it so very nicely, I think we will have to make another, and piece the two together to make a bigger quilt.” Before a year passes, we are sure you will have a quilt large enough for your little girl’s own bed, every stitch well done, and both mother and child drawn closer together and made happier by each day’s lessons. It is, we think, a great mistake while teaching a child to sew, to pass over very poor work, simply because you think after awhile she will learn to do better; and you will throw the few early attempts aside, rather than be at the trouble of picking out imperfect stitches. Only a half-inch, or three or four stitches a day, well done, is a great gain. Be gentle, but very firm. Do not drill the child till it becomes weary, and will shrink from a second trial; but yet, let it be well understood that every stitch must be perfect before it will be accepted, and then be lavish of praise when the effort is successful. Do not destroy the child’s _first work_, thus carefully done. It will give you much pleasure when your daughter has become a woman, and be invaluable to her as an evidence of your faithful teachings when you are forever hid from her eyes.

XLIV.

THE CARE OF POULTRY.

WE make no pretense to any great skill or experience in raising poultry, and may not be able to furnish satisfactory answers to questions which have been sent by some of our readers who appear wellnigh discouraged by repeated failures; but we venture a few suggestions which, if acted upon, will, we think, in part at least, overcome some portion of their difficulties and perplexities, and may be acceptable to others in their first attempt.

The agricultural papers are filled with descriptions and recommendations of many fanciful, and, no doubt, very excellent, heneries and poultry-yards. We have very little acquaintance, however, with these modern improvements. The few we have seen do not excite our enthusiasm, and we cannot see that the income or gain in any degree compensates for the extra expenditure. We do not learn that Nero’s horses were much benefited when fed on golden oats and shod with shoes of the same precious metal; nor do we believe hens sheltered in sumptuous palaces will be more productive than our Leghorns and Cochins. But each one has a right to his own peculiar fancies; we are speaking now to those who have not yet found time or means to build fancy heneries, but content themselves with more simple arrangements.

We think it important, if possible, to have a good yard and commodious hen-house, in which _laying_, _setting_, and _roosting_ apartments can be kept separate. These conveniences cannot always be secured as ample and pleasant as is desirable; but however simple the accommodations may be, it is indispensable that the building be kept scrupulously clean if you would insure success. The _roost_ requires the most care. It should be swept out once a week, the poles and sides being well brushed off with a stiff broom, and the loose feathers and droppings from under the poles collected in barrels, removed from the hen-house, and kept dry. It is an excellent manure or guano, and very valuable when well composted.

The same care is needed in the _laying_ and _setting_ rooms. It is wise, once a week, to take all the straw from the nests, brush the boxes out clean, and replenish with fresh straw. A little ashes or a few bits of charcoal put under the straw helps to keep the nests sweet. The old straw and filth should be put on the compost heap. In the _setting_ apartment the nests must not be disturbed till the eggs are all hatched, and the little chicks, with their mother, removed. Then the box must be emptied, well washed, dried, and whitewashed, ready for a new occupant.

It takes time and some trouble to keep the hen-house and yard always clean; but it well repays the trouble, and, if well done every week, will really take less time than to have a grand _clearing up_ once or twice a year. These clearing days in dwellings or outbuildings are great nuisances and torments, making every one cross and uncomfortable; but if in each department it is understood that everything must always be put into its appropriate place, and that once a week the whole is to be tidied up, the most careless, if once tempted to try the experiment, would be astonished at the increased ease of the labor, and the pleasure would certainly be fourfold.

Every fall and spring and once at least during the summer the birds should all be turned out of the house and yard, that the inside of the building may be well smoked with sulphur, and then thoroughly whitewashed, to secure the destruction of the vermin and the good health of the occupants. A day should be selected when no hens are sitting, and then some charcoal must be kindled in an old tin or pan kept for the purpose in each compartment, and some bits of sulphur sprinkled over the coals when well burning. This done, shut the doors and windows tightly, and leave the sulphur to burn out, which it will do in a few hours; then throw open the doors and windows and let in the air. After this, every part must be well whitewashed, filling all cracks, holes, or corners with the wash,--particularly the nests or boxes for the laying and sitting hens. Sprinkle a few small bits of charcoal in the nests, when dry, to keep them sweet; fill them with fresh straw, and recall the fowls to their clean home.

A box or bin of wood-ashes should be placed in one corner of the roosting apartment, and kept always filled, and free from filth, for poultry to roll in and free themselves from vermin as far as possible.

The roost should be made so that the poles can be raised or let down at pleasure. In the winter, have the poles raised as high as may be, as the heat ascends, and the fowls need as warm a place as possible for winter. In summer, lower the roost, that they may sleep where the air circulates freely. If possible, provide a good roomy yard back of the hen-house, where the hens may have ample space to range. Plums do well in such yards, and the hens do much toward destroying the curculio. Old pans or wooden troughs filled with water must be kept in the yard, that the hens may have drink at all times. If you have plenty of skim-milk or buttermilk, they will be grateful for all you can spare, and show their gratitude by the increase of their daily offerings.

Heaps of old plaster or oyster-shells must be kept in different parts of the yard; if part of the shells can be burned and pounded, it will be better. Any slops from the house will be of great benefit; and if no pigs are kept, everything that is thrown into the “swill-pail,” not salt, can be used to advantage. Keep all water in which potatoes and vegetables are boiled; throw their parings or skins into it, and after each meal put in all refuse bits, bring this water to a boil, stir in a handful or two of coarse meal, and in winter feed it to the hens warm, and you will find it very acceptable and profitable. Every scrap of fresh meat, soup bones, but no _salt_ meat, will do them good. If near a butcher’s shop, he will sell you for a few pennies, or give you, the “lights” or the head of one of the animals. Chop it up and throw it into the poultry-yard. Worms and grasshoppers will help them through the summer months; but they must have something in the way of fresh meat in winter. Every morning and evening scatter cracked or whole corn about the yard in a clean place. In picking it up, they will take with it a little gravel, which is very necessary to keep them healthy.

In many cases it is not convenient or thought necessary to provide a hen-house and yard, all the poultry being allowed to roam at will over the premises. A little care will train them to keep from doing any great mischief in the gardens; but you must not expect too much; if you have grapes, currants, or small fruit, these will be too tempting for a hen’s nature to resist, and, in the end, it will be found to be worth considerable sacrifice of time and money to place them out of the reach of temptation. Besides, if they are allowed to roam, you cannot track their nests at all times, and you will be left without an egg in the house when most needed. With very little care, and by selecting the best and most reliable breeds, this need never happen where hens are kept in an inclosure and with a suitable house. The pure Leghorns molt but six weeks in the year,--in November and December. If they bring out their broods the first of April, the pullets will begin to lay in October, just as their mothers begin to molt. If hatched in August or early September, they will lay by the first of April; so that part of the hens will be laying all the time. Some people kill off their hens as soon as the pullets begin to lay, thus having no molting fowls on their premises; but we think this foolish. The second year’s eggs are usually larger, and a hen may be kept profitably for three or four years. Our own experiments lead us to think the White Leghorns and Cochins the best layers.

XLV.

INSTITUTIONS FOR THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN.

VASSAR is, we think, the first college for women ever established. The liberal provision for its maintenance, in accordance with the wishes of the founder,--the chapel, library, cabinet, recitation-rooms; the houses for the professors; the dormitories for the students; the dining-hall and kitchen; the laundry and the bakehouse,--every needed accommodation, are all completed in the most approved manner. The whole is heated by steam, and lighted by gas. Here physical culture receives all the care that modern science and experience can give. A floral garden is managed by the young ladies. Gymnastic exercises, horseback riding, driving, boating, or skating have their full share of encouragement and attention. The whole establishment and its arrangements are most excellent, securing a suitable amount of exercise to insure good health, and also clear heads for the hours devoted to study.

But in this generous provision for accomplishments for our young daughters, and thorough training in all healthful exercise, there seems to have been one department entirely overlooked, which certainly demands a large share of attention, and where, we think, faithful instruction in the rudiments should, in connection with other departments, begin in the earliest and most simple lessons, with the full understanding that it must go hand in hand with other branches through the whole course. We mean a full and most thorough instruction in all that belongs to domestic economy and household lore.

The preparatory instruction and full collegiate course, in a girl’s education, should embrace more years than are thought necessary to prepare a boy to graduate and enter upon the duties of manhood, because we are sure our girls’ minds are overburdened by an attempt to crowd too many studies into each year, thus keeping them constantly hurried and overtaxed. They have many things to do while in school that boys are not expected to do, or, at any rate, which they never undertake. No young lady, we trust, would sit down to her studies, in the morning, until her room was neatly put in order. Many little touches are needed to secure this, which they cannot depend upon a chamber or parlor maid to do well, and which it would not be consistent with womanly neatness to leave undone. Then a girl has her wardrobe to watch over; rips to mend, buttons to replace, and numerous other things which a boy has done for him or leaves undone. In girlhood as in later life, woman’s duties are more complex and varied than man’s. There are so many little things, insignificant in themselves, but of wonderful importance, in that skillful combination which must be woven together to make the perfect whole in a woman’s character, that it is unsafe to skim lightly over any. Some items appear very trifling and unimportant, when not viewed as connecting links, without whose aid the whole noble structure must be incomplete.

No one can tell, while the process of constructing and perfecting is going on, through what deep and stormy waters the precious bark, once launched, may be compelled to force its way. Therefore it is wise, in laying the foundations, to be sure that no timber, screw, or rivet, however insignificant it may seem at the time, has been discarded or insecurely fastened.

Even if it could be guaranteed that most of the young ladies who graduate from our excellent seminaries would never be placed in a position where they might find it convenient, if not necessary, to labor to secure home comforts, or prepare food for husband or children, yet there is no place free from care, where it would not be more conducive to comfort and happiness for the mistress, not only to know thoroughly what was proper to be done about the house, but also to know how to do it herself, should it ever be necessary. To know how to do it well will do no harm; _not_ knowing how may sometimes subject one to great discomfort and mortification.

We once called on a lady of great wealth. Her establishment and style of living demanded a large retinue of servants, who received the highest wages. There had just been some disturbance among her servants. The cook, receiving forty dollars a month, imagined that her subordinate in the kitchen did not render her the proper assistance. She, the sub-cook, was quite above such service as was exacted. Neither would yield, and both left. The waitress, laundress, and nurse had been nursing a feud for some time, which only needed this explosion in the kitchen and the atmosphere it engendered to develop the final catastrophe. The noise and smoke of the battle had but just subsided when we rang the bell, which was answered by the lady herself with a laughing, happy face, in no wise ruffled by this unusual state of things. After our errand was done, she was led by it to tell us a merry story of the day’s experience.

“And what will you do now?”

“O, I have sent my dressing-maid to the nursery, sent the seamstress to look for others to replace the deserters, and the coachman to market. I will attend the door till they return, and then I mean to surprise my husband on his return with a dinner of my own cooking. Mother used to let me _play cook_ sometimes when I was young. She thought every girl should at least know how to get a dinner. I learned a good deal then which I think I have not forgotten, and I owe it to her that this little disturbance, the first I have had, doesn’t trouble me at all.”

To be sure, those who keep but one or two servants will think that she had but little to disturb her while a dressing-maid, seamstress, and coachman were on hand. But we think those who keep the greatest number of servants are the most to be pitied, and when changes come it requires much patience and some skill to rearrange those who remain, if one extra step is demanded of them.

We know two little girls whose mother is training them to meet such inconvenient changes when they are women, in the same independent spirit. They have a large-sized _toy cooking-stove_, but one in which they can make _real pies_, as the little ladies say, and real bread and real cake can be made on it, though of lilliputian size. The stove is kept in mother’s room, the pipe passing into the nursery flue. They have a little molding-board and rolling-pin, and all needed implements on a small scale, and no richer reward can be given than to be allowed to bake a cake, or something of their own making, to be placed on the family table. Of course they work under mother’s eye and by her instructions, and in later years these little girls will thank their mother for this early teaching.

This _playing cook_ is an easy and pleasant way of teaching little girls the first lessons, and if, as in other days, they were fully taught at home the very important accomplishment of housekeeping by their mothers, there would be no necessity for a union of domestic and intellectual institutions in our schools and seminaries; but, unfortunately, very few, comparatively, of the mothers of the present day have health to teach their daughters as thoroughly as would be satisfactory or available; or, if health be given, the disposition to devote their time and attention to the matter is wanting. For this reason we see no better way than to have this part of our girls’ education incorporated, if possible, with the other branches taught in schools and colleges, so that sewing, sweeping, washing, and cooking--all minutiæ of household knowledge--may be as fully taught as reading, writing, or the so-called higher studies; or, if this union is not possible, at least the domestic education might be made a supplementary course,--the scholars understanding that no one can “graduate” until she has passed through that department.

We fear the good old times of mother-teaching will not very soon be revived, and our idea of uniting this important part of woman’s education with that which is thought higher and more intellectual arose from the impression that, if not in some way instructed in home duties, our girls in the course of four or five years of sedentary life would acquire a distaste for more active employment, or, having destroyed their health by injurious and long-continued application, would be utterly incapacitated for it.

We offer these suggestions in the hope that the attention of some of our progressive spirits may be called to this subject with more effective earnestness than has been shown.

XLVI.

GREAT MISTAKES.

WHEN the weather becomes so warm that furnaces and large fires can be dispensed with, the regular “spring cleaning” is usually commenced in earnest. Until then, the most perfect housekeeper cannot prevent the accumulation of ashes or fine dust, which, ascending from the furnace or stove below with each morning’s renewal, will find a lodgment in carpets and furniture, and can be fully removed only by a longer process than can be given weekly. Were it not that the carpets and furniture would be utterly ruined by the insensible deposit of dust and ashes in the winter, and by flies, spiders, damps, and mold of the summer, which by fall have been too much for the most vigilant care, the great domestic terror over which gentlemen so pathetically lament--a general “house-cleaning”--could easily be dispensed with. Without those special troubles, we could get along, by good management, with but very little general disturbance of the regular routine of household cares, and no derangement of family comfort but what the most fastidious could patiently and cheerfully submit to.

The last touch to the perfect purification of the house, in the estimation of many notable housekeepers, is to have the fireplace or grate brightly polished, and the bricks on the back and sides either whitewashed or painted (slate, drab, or some neutral color), and this once satisfactorily accomplished, they are very sensitive if any wish is expressed to have a fire kindled again before fall, preferring to risk fevers or any of the malarial troubles so likely to result from damp or cool nights and mornings, rather than see their clean, nicely painted grates blackened by the action of fire.

Now, we cannot but think this is a great mistake. So much sickness and suffering may, we are convinced, be prevented by kindling a small fire every night and morning, that all pleasure in the beauty of fresh, pretty-colored grates and fireplaces is lost in the knowledge of the price paid for it. A well _blackened_ grate has more attractions for us, as it speaks of dry rooms, rosy cheeks, and good health, whereas unused and spotless bricks tell of rheumatism, chills and fever, and pale, sallow faces.

We first learned the great importance of these morning and evening fires at the West, and should have been thankful to have learned it by an easier way than through the rough school of experience. What was a good theory and better practice in the new Western life is equally beneficial in any locality where cool nights and mornings precede and follow each day, or where sudden changes from dry to damp or rainy weather may be expected. It is not at all necessary or wise in warm weather to build large fires that will heat a room. Only so much is needed as will suffice to dispel the chill damp of the atmosphere, of which one is usually conscious on entering a room early in the morning or soon after nightfall. A few sticks of light wood or a small fagot of brush will suffice. In the city it is not always easy to find material for this purpose; but in the country, whether in an old place or new, there is no difficulty, and no excuse for neglect. Small sticks, and any quantity of brush, from constantly needed repairs or pruning, are always scattered about, which, if not daily gathered up, will soon accumulate, till heaps of unsightly rubbish will meet the eye at every turn. If only for the sake of neatness, and to _save time_, all this should be daily removed. It is not much labor, and a very short time is sufficient. If you have young boys or girls with you, rightly trained to be useful, an hour or two of outdoor labor will give them pleasant and healthful occupation. Provide them with a child’s saw-horse and saw, a small, light hatchet, and a ball of strings, and let them daily go out and collect such brush as may be lying around. Show them how to cut it in proper lengths, and to tie the fagots neatly. Then they can easily, with a light wheelbarrow, take them to the wood-house or shed, and pile them ready for use. A half-hour’s or an hour’s work every day will do this, and the young folks will not feel it a burden. But if left a week or two, the brush becomes tangled, the heap grows larger, and what should be only pleasant recreation becomes a burden, perhaps really too heavy for children to undertake, and either a man’s time must be given to the work, or industry and labor be made repulsive to the young. That is also a great mistake. But by having this work regularly done, at certain hours daily, by your children, a threefold good may be gained: the house, grounds, and surroundings can be kept free from disagreeable litter; the means secured at the same time, with little labor and no cost, to preserve a healthful atmosphere all through the house; and your children taught a lesson in neatness and industry which they will not in after years forget, and which, whatever their position in life, will always be valuable.

While among the pines and palmettos in the newly settled parts of Florida, we looked with envious eyes on the “fat wood,” as it is called, which lies around the clearings in the greatest abundance. A few small sticks from these pine knots, at the first touch of a match, start into a wonderfully bright flame, before which, while it lasts, the light of our best kerosene lamps is obscured, and the morning and evening dampness is expelled, so that comfortable but not heated air is secured. We were pleased to see in these brilliant fires, regularly kindled, strong proof of good common-sense.

We believe full half the sickness which abounds in newly settled countries or in malarial districts could be entirely prevented by this easy, simple practice. At any rate, it would certainly be quite as effectual as the innumerable and abominable doses which each section of country accepts as the only cure; and it would have the advantage of being a pleasant remedy, warranted not to produce some disease far worse than the first.

Another great mistake is the exclusion of sunlight from our houses. We have spoken of this some time since, and wish the importance of admitting the light of the sun freely, as well as building these early and late fires, could be properly impressed upon our housekeepers. No article of furniture should ever be brought to our homes too good or too delicate for the sun to see all day long. His presence should never be excluded, except when so bright as to be uncomfortable to the eyes. And a walk in good, bright sunlight, before the heat is too intense, is very beneficial, so that the eyes are protected by veil or parasol when the light is inconveniently strong. A _sun-bath_ is of far more importance in preserving a healthful condition of the body than is generally understood. A sun-bath costs nothing, and that is a misfortune, for people are deluded with the idea that those things only can be good or useful which cost money. But remember that pure water, fresh air, sunlight, and homes kept free from dampness, will secure you from many heavy bills of the doctors, and give you health and vigor, which no money can procure. It is a well-established fact that people who live much in the sun are usually stronger and more healthy than those whose occupations deprive them of sunlight.

XLVII.

STUDY TO MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE.

IN planning and furnishing a house, young people too often sacrifice true taste and their own conscience for _style_; forgetting that they should arrange a home for _comfort_, not for a temple of fashion. So large a portion of the money set apart for the whole outlay is expended in adorning their parlors,--the only part of a house which is, in a measure, public property,--that they are compelled to cheat themselves out of much comfort and convenience, when they come to the furnishing of the real home, or family rooms, unless possessed of wealth so abundant that expense becomes a secondary consideration. We think the family sitting and dining rooms should receive more thought and care than any other part of the house. Neatness, of course, should be preserved everywhere, and the parlors be furnished with as much of style and fashion as your means will warrant your expending to meet your own desires, or in deference to public opinion, if you are at all inclined to cater to its gratification. In your chambers study neatness and convenience, and also in the kitchen; but when you turn to the sitting and dining rooms, give yourself abundance of time to deliberate over everything connected with these apartments, and, after due consideration, begin the work, which, if rightly understood, will be a toil of pleasure,--a labor of love, never ending; because every week some pretty device or fanciful change or addition will occur to you, by which you can add to its simple attractions, thereby giving yourself great pleasure, and filling your heart with happy thoughts. From the tone of the letter and question prompting this chapter, we should not class its writer with those who desire a position among the “fashionables,” whose greatest pleasure lies in parties, balls, and theaters, or a ceaseless round of “calls,” and who would be made perfectly miserable if compelled by any circumstance to pass a quiet evening at home, with _nobody but their husband_. For such there is no _home_. That word belongs to an unknown tongue, which their hearts can never interpret.

We are not at all in sympathy with those who take it for granted that the husband is always the most to be blamed, if the club house or any outside companionship has more attractions than his own home. When the “twain are made one flesh,” if the union is consummated through love, and not from mercenary reasons, the heart of the husband will be drawn most naturally, in his leisure hours, toward the companion he has chosen from all others; and in these early days it rests chiefly with her to make all the surroundings of the home committed to her care so attractive that his steps turn thitherward, because nowhere else can he secure such true comfort and solid happiness. Having so begun, if you continue thus to cast your spells about him, here in this pleasant sitting-room, young wife, he will always prefer to spend his leisure hours where your skill and taste make it more bright and restful than any other resort can be. Now, in the earliest days of your wedded life, before other cares engross your time and thoughts, you have the opportunity to make _home_ a word of sacred meaning, to learn its true nature yourself, and to gather around it associations that shall be lasting, and a safeguard through life.

It is not by the “great sacrifices,” or “heroic devotion,” which you speak of, that this blessing can be secured; but by _little things_--daily acts--the work must be begun and the building established on a firm foundation. Bear this in mind constantly while planning the room, selecting the furniture, and arranging the many trifles that, combined, make a sitting-room peculiarly attractive. Secure, if possible, a southern or eastern lookout, or both united. Select pictures that are homelike, even if not the elaborate work of some great artist; those do not always give the greatest pleasure. Flowers and vines about the room or in the windows add wonderfully to the cheerfulness of any room, and to this particularly. Have neat, white shades to exclude the sun partially during the mid-day hours, and outside blinds to keep curiosity from sharing your evening enjoyments. A book and piano are always desirable in a family room, even if you have a _grand piano_ for your parlors. Select the easiest and most comfortable lounges and chairs, taking time to look in several manufactories before you decide; for hard, unyielding sofas and chairs are only fit for show or torture rooms. A commodious table for books, and gas or lamps, suitable for writing, with convenient drawers to hold all necessary writing-material, and your own work-stand in the corner, are essential. These are always useful and convenient; but it is not needful that we go into elaborate specifications. Your own taste and love, if you set about the work in the right spirit, will teach you better than any one else can do. Arrange the necessary articles and all the embellishments with care and thought, so that when you stand at the door and survey the work, the room shall lie before you like a picture, speaking of cheerfulness, rest, and comfort. Here, if you show your husband, from the first, that you are always interested in his outside labors and duties, he will gladly come to talk over the day’s doings; and it will not take long to teach him that a good, true wife is the best adviser he can have,--that his business knowledge and your womanly insight and tact, united, will solve dubious questions, and unravel troublesome tangles, quite as safely and far more pleasantly than any assistance and advice sought outside of _home_. And in after life, think you, will it not be pleasant to look back and trace much of your happiness to the fascinations and attractions you so skillfully gathered about the pleasant sitting-room, when you, as “young people,” took sweet counsel together, and laid the foundation for mutual confidence and true domestic peace? Had you secured the most elegant parlors, but left this room cold and barren, negligently kept, and destitute of any special attraction, do you think your prospects of happiness would have been as bright? Or can you feel that you would deserve that they should be? It is your work, young wife, to make the _home_. Your husband may provide and furnish the means, but it is for you to see that they are used for mutual happiness.