Chapter XI: Part I: Motherly Talks with Young Housekeepers (8)

Next to the sitting-room, the dining-room must be the most carefully arranged. Strange how few give heed to this! It is sometimes a low, dark, ill-constructed room, reached by stairs often unsafe by reason of darkness, and usually opening so abruptly to the kitchen that the appetite is destroyed the moment you enter by the fumes from cooking which have been gathering in the dining-room all the morning; and the pleasant intercourse which should enliven each meal is often sadly interrupted by overmuch talking from the adjacent kitchen. If there ever is dispute or misfortune there, it seems always destined to occur while you are at your table. Our city dining rooms are too frequently after this pattern. Here is some excuse; for we must expect, in one way or another, to be “cabined, cribbed, and confined” in the city; but in the free, bright country, there can seldom be any such excuse given, and yet the same heedlessness with regard to anything pleasant in the position of the dining-room is noticeable. Opening into a back yard or clothes-yard, or overlooking the barn-yard, with nothing attractive or cheerful,--this is thought good enough for a place to _feed in_. A very great mistake; for here we should meet, not to eat hastily, and rise up and go our ways, but there should be quite as much enjoyment in free and cheerful conversation at the table as can possibly be secured during the mere act of eating. A friend occasionally drops in; and when children are gathered about the board, their little winning ways and delightful prattle add wonderfully to the pleasure of the repast. Our American men, when actively engaged in business, as a large proportion of them are, often find the breakfast and dinner hours the only parts of the day when they can see their children. It is time little folks were asleep, generally, before the father closes his labors and returns home for tea. For that reason, if for no other, the dining-room, in every family, as being the place where, except on Sunday, the children will have the best opportunity of seeing their father, should be made bright, cheerful, and peculiarly attractive; because it will be more closely associated in their minds with his presence. As they grow older, they should be taught to give their aid in arranging fruit and flowers for the decoration of the table and side-board before each meal, “because papa will soon be here.”

You may think these are all such _little things_, that you cannot conceive it possible they should be of much importance in arranging a house, or making home happy, and will probably feel that your question has been unsatisfactorily answered. But, dear “young wife,” believe me, it is by little things that you must make the house, now committed to your charge, a happy one, and so attractive to your husband that he can have no wish to seek pleasure elsewhere. It is not by any great effort once in a while, but by the constant, daily evidence of your thoughtfulness and care, that you will secure the confidence and companionship you are so earnestly desiring and seeking after.

XLVIII.

THE CARE OF COOKING-STOVES AND RANGES.

NEXT to perplexities and trouble with servants, there is nothing that so severely afflicts the careful housekeeper as the attempt to secure attention to the cooking-stove or range. The reasons given for failure in any particular point are innumerable, and all cast the burden of blame on the poor, inoffensive stove. There never was such a miserable cooking-stove. The fire won’t burn, or it burns too fiercely; the oven won’t bake at all, or bakes so furiously that everything you trust to it is ruined. It smokes, or the gas escapes, and fills the house with the offensive odors; it burns out more coal in one day than should be used in two; the dampers are useless, or the grate cannot be turned over. There is scarcely a defect to be imagined but is charged to this necessary evil,--the cooking-stove or range.

In part, no doubt, these ceaseless annoyances spring from the heedlessness or ignorance of the servants, but more frequently, we think, it is because the mistress herself does not understand the cause of the difficulty, or how to point out and remedy the mistakes. It is impossible to expect a girl will be successful in managing the fire and stove unless you are competent and willing to give her full instruction, and are also ready to follow this up with constant daily supervision, until time and a faithful trial convince you that the subject is fully understood, and your injunctions regularly followed. Even then _watch_, with all kindness and patience, not with a fault-finding spirit, but because carelessness and forgetfulness are bound up in the heart of almost every servant, and ceaseless vigilance is your only protection from mistakes of the most mortifying and vexatious character; and do you not know that such trials always come at the most unexpected and inconvenient time? No doubt there are occasionally servants found, or heard of, who are faithful, careful, competent, and safe to be trusted in every particular; but they are, “like angels’ visits, few and far between”; and it is wise for every housekeeper to be as exact in her explanations, and as watchful in seeing them executed, as if she knew her girl was totally ignorant of everything about the stove or range, until well convinced that she fully understands and regularly carries out her mistress’s lessons. Then, if she fails, it is safe to look upon the failure as culpable negligence, for which it would be very difficult to find a reasonable excuse.

Simply _telling_ a servant how you wish the stove managed, or anything else done, is by no means sufficient. To say to the new cook, “Bridget, I wish you to be very particular in cleaning out your range or stove every night before retiring, and have your kindlings and coal all laid ready to start a fire in the morning,” will not secure obedience. The answer will doubtless be, “O yes, mem, I always do that.” Perhaps once in a great while you may find a cook that will do this regularly; for it certainly, if they will only try it, is the easiest way. But take nothing on trust. See with your own eyes before you retire how much this _always_ means. Too often it should be translated, “when it suits my convenience.” Perhaps for a short time it may be done in accordance with your wishes; but keep open eyes, or nine times out of ten, in less than a month, you will be told, “I can’t do anything with the range or stove.” “Have you thoroughly cleaned it out each night as I directed?” “O yes, mem; of course I have.” Now, either go to work yourself and see what is the matter, which is the best way, or send for a man from a stove manufactory to examine. Stand by _with the cook_ to see the results of his examination. Of course the fire must be all out before he can do anything. He will then remove every cover from the top, and most likely find the whole surface perfectly clogged up with small bits of coal and piles of ashes, so that the draught is obstructed; or, if the difficulty does not lie there mainly, he will take out the slide to the pit under the oven, and, notwithstanding cook’s assurances that it is regularly cleaned out, you will find it filled with ashes up to the oven bottom; or the grate has been so imperfectly emptied and cleaned that it is broken, and clogged with _clinkers_, leaving hardly room to make a fire in it. Now you have the whole mystery solved. All the girl’s protestations and assurances of great care in keeping the stove in perfect order cannot longer blind your eyes. A few such examples may not insure cook’s future attention and truthfulness, but they will teach you, that as the _foot of the master_ is the only warrant for large crops on a farm, or successful operations in any pursuit, so the _eye and hand_ of the mistress must ever be most vigilant and effective to secure comfort in the house.

There is no one convenience on which so large a part of house comfort depends as on a good cooking-apparatus, whether in the form of stove or range; and however perfect the patent, nothing can so easily be put out of working order by careless management. Before starting a new fire, examine if the stove has been thoroughly cleaned from the last one; then open the dampers; roll up and put into the grate a few pieces of paper,--or some shavings, if you can have them, are still better; lay lightly on this some splinters or small bits of kindling wood. Do not throw them on in a heavy mass, but so arrange them as to give free breathing-holes; on this foundation put a few larger pieces of pine kindling, and if you are hurried, and need a quick, bright fire, sprinkle over a small shovelful of _coke_, if you have it. Nothing kindles quicker than coke. Now replace all the covers, and set fire to the paper with a match, held underneath the grate. If lighted from above, it must be, of course, before the covers are put on, and that fills the kitchen with smoke. When the wood is well blazing, before at all wasted, take off the covers and cross-piece (the paper will have burned out by that time, and little smoke will trouble you), and pour on the hard coal, scattering it evenly at the sides, but a little heaped or rounded in the center. Be careful that the grate is not _filled_ ABOVE _the fire-brick_. This is a very important consideration, for if heaped above, it injures the stove, burning out the iron-work, and obstructing the draught, so that the coal cannot kindle readily, but wastes and smolders without doing much good. As soon as the coal is well kindled, close the draughts, or dampers, and you will have a clear, serviceable fire. It is a great mistake to use a large amount of paper or kindling. The paper, when burnt out, makes a smothering, black kind of ashes, that deadens the fire, and the pine kindling, if used too profusely, fills the stove with so much bituminous smoke as to clog the pipes needlessly.

When your breakfast is dished and sent to the table, tell the cook to raise a cover from the stove, and see if it would not be well to add a small shovelful of coal to keep the fire in good working order; but it will not be necessary to open the draughts until the breakfast is over and the dishes washed and put away. When that is done, it will be time to begin arrangements for dinner, and then the draughts should be opened a few minutes, and the fire raked down or shaken, so as to remove all the ashes; but _on no account stir it from the top_; that kills the fire, turning the coals black. The ashes being removed, lift off the two front covers and the cross-piece once more; pour on more coal, always remembering not to fill above the fire-brick. The object in lifting off both covers and cross-bar, instead of pouring in the coal at one hole, and pushing it across with the poker, as most girls do, is to prevent the coal from scattering and lodging on the plate of the stove, under the side covers. If this is done, the coal remaining there prevents the heat from having a free circulation; therefore every time the coal is added, even if both covers are removed, giving a free opening to pour on what fuel is needed, it is best to pass the poker under the side-holes, and see that the upper plate is free from coal and ashes.

We have written these simple directions at the request of a “very young housekeeper,” who assures us that there are hundreds “longing for just such instruction, who, fearing to expose their ignorance, are keeping silent, subjecting themselves to all sorts of mistakes, which make their husbands cross, and set themselves almost crazy.”

We regret that any should feel ashamed to ask questions on household matters, however simple. To answer them, if in our power, is pleasure, and the questions are a great encouragement; for we often think we have exhausted all that need be said, when some word from the “young housekeepers” remind us of points which we have overlooked.

XLIX.

THE OLD WAYS AND THE NEW.

IT is interesting to note the changes and improvements which have been made within the last half-century in almost all the conveniences and implements which are needed in the preparation of food. It may be that the ease and comfort by which this labor can be performed, through these new contrivances, when compared with the old ways, and the facility with which all classes, rich or poor, can and do secure all or some of these conveniences, has tempted to an indulgence in luxuries regardless of economy or health. Perhaps the firm health and longevity so common among our forefathers were in some degree owing to their more simple diet; but also very largely, we think, to their healthful activity and industry, and to the _early to bed, early to rise_ habits which their active life demanded.

But, as the present generation have acquired extravagant tastes with regard to food, as well as in dress, there certainly is cause for gratitude that great improvements in the machinery by which such work can be performed have kept pace with the cultivated taste that demands so much more skill to gratify it. We doubt, however, if any modern improvement can ever set before us food that will have the rare excellence, the exquisite flavor, of that which used to come from our mother’s great brick oven. Ah, the bread,--the rich-colored brown bread; the creamy-white bread; the pies, puddings, and cakes!

“’Twere worth ten years of modern life,
One glance at that array!”

We have yet to see the device which can compensate for the loss of the old brick oven!

But wishing will not restore it to us who live in cities or large towns, unless we can bring back the old primeval forests, and, instead of the “coal-bins,” possess again the old-fashioned wood-houses with their rich stores of seasoned wood, piled high to the rafters; and the huge piles of green wood in the yard, waiting for the leisure days to be cut, split, and housed; or we must emigrate to the unsettled parts of the West and South, which are still rich in splendid woodland, where the settlers are cutting down the grand old forests, or wastefully burning them. In their present haste to clear the land, they forget their own future interest and the comfort of their children, who, by this waste and destruction, will be denied the luxury of wood fires, and compelled to content themselves with coal, and all the annoyances and discomfort connected with its habitual use. Coal is excellent for the cook-stove; but it is a great sacrifice when none but the rich can afford wood fires, in their family room at least.

It may be difficult for the first occupants of wild lands to save the great wealth of fuel, while hastening to open up their farms. But it seems to us that it would be wise to preserve larger tracts of woodland on any new farm or home-steads, as a provision for the future; remembering that any ten acres thoroughly cultivated will bring more abundant and better paying crops than thirty cleared but poorly cultivated; _poorly_, because the owner uses the time in cutting down the wood on the extra twenty acres which should have been given to the careful cultivation of the ten. When we have been at the West and South, at various times, it has been a source of continual regret to see that which our large towns and cities so greatly need recklessly given to the flames, knowing that the time cannot be far distant when these young towns will feel the need of this fuel as much as their elders. We cannot help thinking while we ride through the burning forests, that even a woman could manage so that the forests could be more largely preserved, and the trees which must fall be saved and made useful and profitable; while the comfort and prosperity of the possessor could be much increased by the economy, because the farm would be brought under more careful culture, and thus sooner return paying crops.

But the thought of the well-beloved brick oven has led us into the wilderness, and away from our subject.

We were noticing the great difference between the ancient and modern manner of cooking. Many of our readers remember and have often used the brick ovens, the large old-fashioned fireplace, the long crane, the pot-hooks and trammel on it, and the great pots and kettles suspended by them over the fierce fire,--the immense “roaster,” the “Dutch oven,” the Johnny-cake baked on the “Bannock-board” before the glowing bed of coals, while bright rows of apples were sputtering on the hearth. But all these names are to your children like words in an unknown tongue. They will never know the rich flavors gained only by this mode of cooking; neither will they endure the pains and penalties by which this knowledge was obtained. What would those tyrants of our households, the modern cooks, say if compelled to swelter over the blazing fire, or roast with the meats they are cooking upon the fiery coals on the hearth?

Some years since we were presented with one of Stewart’s stoves, which proved so satisfactory that we never expected, and hardly desired, anything better; and when, a few years later, we were persuaded to put the “Peerless” in its place, although always very ready to try anything new that promises to lighten or simplify the kitchen work, we confess that it was with much reluctance that we consented to make the change, being in no wise inclined to believe that it could at all compete with our old and well-tried friend, the Stewart’s. But the stove proved itself worthy of its name. “Peerless” it certainly has been, and in all respects given us more comfort than any stove or range we have ever used, baking equally in every part of the oven, and using much less coal even than the Stewart’s. It is made by Pratt and Wentworth, of Boston.

We well remember when cook-stoves and ranges were first brought into common use, and how positive the good housekeepers were that nothing decent could be prepared with these strange contrivances. But only a few days were needed to work a complete conversion. Since then, almost every year brings before the public some new range or cook-stove, or marked improvements on the old. By and by we expect to see stoves and ranges arranged for the use of gas, instead of coal, for cooking; and if a better quality of gas than that which has tormented us for the last few years can be furnished, we imagine any such invention will bring us nearer to the perfection of cooking arrangements than has ever been reached. To be free from smoke, and the dust and vexation of coal and ashes, will indeed be a consummation most devoutly to be wished.

But until gas can be thus used in the kitchen, housekeepers have reason to be well satisfied with the many excellent ranges and stoves now in general use.

L.

A FEW HINTS ON CARVING.

IT is a great accomplishment to be able to _carve_ well and easily, without awkwardness; but it is one that receives altogether too little attention. Too often it would seem that the host or hostess, or whoever is called upon to perform this table duty, has no idea of there being anything needed but to hack off in the most expeditious manner as much meat as is required to satisfy the wants of those present, without the slightest reference to the mode in which it should be done, or the choice bits to be secured by careful carving. We have seen those who in every other respect were true gentlemen and ladies, carve poultry or a piece of meat in such a barbarous manner as to banish all desire to eat, and almost the ability to taste the big, uncouth, mangled lump that was put, or rather thrown, on the plate. To cut off a thick, rough piece from any part that the knife happens to light upon first, aside from being untidy and unpalatable, is also very wasteful. After two or three such careless cuttings, the whole piece is so defaced and uneven, that it is no longer possible to secure a decent looking bit: and the bone is left with much adhering to it, in ragged morsels, which dry and become worthless if left over to the next day, but which, had the joint been properly carved, could have been sent to the table for a cold relish for tea, in a neat and attractive form.

Our ladies are seldom good carvers, and do not often attempt it. Few have been taught, or thought it worth while to try and learn; but in early times it was considered an indispensable part of a girl’s education. The want of such knowledge often leaves one in an unpleasant and embarrassing position; for to every one there occasionally comes a time when the gentleman of the family must be absent, and the lady must do the carving, or ask a guest or stranger, who may be even more awkward than herself.

To stand up while carving is not as proper or skillful a way of doing the work as to be seated; but it is sometimes easier and more convenient, and, if the table be at all crowded, less troublesome to guests. In such cases it is quite allowable.

The carving-knife must be sharp and thin. A large, broad-bladed knife is needed for meats; a long, narrow, and sharp-pointed blade for poultry and game; both should be kept in perfect order, and always ready for use.

When dished, poultry or game must be laid on its back, the breast uppermost, for the greater convenience of the carver, who should put the fork into the breast, holding the bird firmly, until he has taken off the wings and legs, cut out the merry thought, or wish-bone; cut nice, even slices from the breast, and removed the collar-bone. A skillful carver will do all this without once turning the fowl over. Next cut off the side-bone, and cut down the back, dividing the carcass in two. Separate the drumstick from the second joint, and in helping a lady, if she prefer the wing, cut it in two parts that she may handle it more conveniently.

A ham, or a leg of lamb or mutton, should be first cut in the middle, clean down to the bone, passing the knife all round. Then cut thin, even slices from the upper or thicker part, separating each slice from the bone at the bottom, carefully, without tearing it. Some slices can also be cut from the lower part of the leg or ham, which are just as good as the upper part; but after a little you come to the cords or fibers, and then the remainder of the lower part should be set aside to cut out all the little bits for a relish at tea, or, in ham, to chop up as seasoning or with other kinds of meat for hash. By cutting meat in this way, much may be saved. Good carving is good economy.

The middle portion of boiled tongue is the best, and should be first served to guests. The tip is fit only for hashes. It should always be cut crosswise, never lengthwise.

When dishing a sirloin, place it on the platter with the tenderloin underneath, and carve thin slices lengthwise from the side next to you; then turn the piece over, and carve the tenderloin carefully, cutting across the piece, serving equally from both parts.

In carving a fore-quarter of lamb, divide the shoulders from the ribs; then separate the ribs. The fore-quarter of pork and mutton should be carved in the same way. When carving the hind-quarter, cut neatly between the ribs to the joint, which must then be carefully separated, so as not to bring a jagged, mangled piece to the plate. To do this you will be obliged to charge your butcher particularly to _crack_ the joints, not only of the hind, but also of the fore-quarter. He has the implements to do it more expertly than you can, and unless this is well done, it is quite impossible to carve the ribs neatly. Serve a bit of the kidney and the fat to each guest if agreeable. Some do not relish the kidney, and could eat with more relish if it were not on their plate, and for this reason it is safest to ask each one before helping.

In carving a fillet of veal, begin at the top to cut, serving a portion of the dressing to each guest. When carving the breast of veal, cut the upper portion of the brisket, or that part of the breast that lies next to the ribs, separately, and in helping, inquire what part is preferred.

Some like to send a young pig whole to the table, with a lemon or bunch of parsley put into the mouth. We think it much nicer to take off the head, and cut the pig in halves or quarters, before sending it to the table, and then carve it. It would be very unpleasant to many to see such a revolting caricature of a live pig brought before them. But each one must judge for himself.

LI.

PARENTAL EXAMPLE.

PARENTS may give “line upon line and precept upon precept,” in their assiduous watchfulness over the manners and morals of their children, yet, if they do not constantly bear in mind that example has more influence over the young than precept, their efforts will be of little avail. If you reprove a child for careless usage of books, show them how they are injured and defaced, by turning down corners, scribbling on the margin, or throwing them down on the face, how much good will such lectures do, if, when he enters your library, or comes where you have been reading, the child sees your books tossed about, the bindings strained, and the corners in a most undesirable condition?

You endeavor to inculcate a habit of neatness in your daughter; you insist that when she returns from a walk or ride she shall smooth out her bonnet-strings, brush the dust from it, and put it at once in the bonnet-box; you tell her to fold her shawl neatly, hang up her sack, pull the fingers of her gloves straight, fold them up and lay them in their appropriate place; and this you request her to do, not once or twice, but habitually, not only because it is tidy, but also a great saving of time and garments in the course of a year. But if you come in, and toss your street garments about in the most careless manner, how much good, think you, will all your words of instruction have accomplished? You may enforce obedience, but compulsory habits are not usually abiding; and, when old enough to cast off restraint, it will be, not so much the _words you have spoken_, as the things your child has _seen you do habitually_, which will influence and guide her womanhood.

You resolutely object to your children using low phrases,--what is termed _slang_; but if your own conversation is largely interspersed with foolish or needless ejaculations, fight against it as you may, you will find it impossible to prevent them from copying your mode of speaking, and it will be very strange if they do not carry it to a much greater extent than you have done.

Nowhere is this force of example so strikingly exemplified as at the table. It is always disagreeable to see a child sitting with its arms on the table, or resting its elbow there while carrying the food to its mouth. There is some excuse for the little ones, as their short limbs grow weary, and the position, though a very awkward one, seems to them a rest from the restraint of the table; and no doubt it is so. It is exceedingly annoying to see children filling their mouths too full, and then washing the food down by drinking, before the food is half masticated. If a child reaches over another’s plate for some article of food, instead of politely asking for it, who can help feeling disturbed by the rudeness? It is disagreeable to all present to see any one stand upon the round of the chair, or on the floor, and _spring_ after a piece of bread or meat, or push a dish across the table instead of handing it. You shrink from the child who helps itself to butter with the knife from its own plate. All this is annoying in children, but it is intolerable when practiced by the parents. They are as much disgusted as any “lookers-on” can be, when they notice such rude, ill-mannered actions in their children; but while they severely blame these young things, they forget that these are always watching and imitating their parents’ faults.

We have seen those who were in most respects truly refined, whose great anxiety seemed to be to guard their children from any contact with rude associates, and to teach them as much refinement of manner and character as was possible; and in most things we have observed that such parents most scrupulously and conscientiously conformed to their own instructions; but when we have had a seat at their table, we have sometimes been amazed to observe that they felt themselves exonerated from the observance of the simplest forms of table etiquette, yet held their children in strict bondage to such rules, and made the hours spent at what should be the social, cheerful board very uncomfortable by continued reproofs.

“John, take your arms off the table.” The child raises his eyes to his father, and sees one arm laid on the table before him, the other supporting his head, with the elbow on the table, while administering this reproof.

“James, how often must I tell you to ask for what you want, and not reach for it across the table?”

A few minutes after, James sees his reprover reaching to the full stretch of his arm, supplemented by the _fork from his own plate_, and pick up a potato, piece of bread, or meat, at the farther end of the table.

“O child, will you never learn to eat without smacking your lips and making such a disagreeable noise? It makes one sick to hear you!”

The child has been watching the parent while eating, and trying hard to imitate the genuine _gourmand’s smack_ which he hears from the head of the table.

“I am astonished! Why do you take the bread from the plate with your fingers and toss it in that manner to your sister? Never let me see you guilty of such rudeness again!”

Now, children are quick to see mistakes and discrepancies in the conduct of their elders, or those who have the rule over them. It does not require many years for them to mark how inconsistent such training is. Naturally children are not very fond of rules and regulations; they like freedom of action as well as their elders; and if they see that what is called rude and ill-mannered in a child is the daily practice of those whom they are expected to look up to, is it strange that they take every possible opportunity to transgress these precepts, so strangely nullified by parental example? They are always reaching forward to something beyond their present condition. If father or mother does such and such things, which are denied to the young son or daughter, of course they long for the same privilege; because if their parents do thus, it must be something smart, the imitation of which brings them nearer to manhood and womanhood, and farther from childhood, from which latter period all children are eager to hasten away. Then, if this is so,--and we think every observing parent has found it to be true,--is it not important that the rules which are laid down to secure good morals and good manners in the children should be considered of sufficient importance to regulate the practice of the parents; and should not the deviations from them, on the part of the elders, be few,--or, better yet, none?

LII.

TRUE TASTE MORE EFFECTIVE THAN MONEY.

MANY imagine they must relinquish all hopes of gratifying their tastes, or the inherent love of the beautiful, if they do not rank among the rich. This is an entirely false idea. There are houses upon which thousands of dollars have been expended, that would be quite intolerable to people of real refinement as a permanent residence. The whole arrangement and furniture are so stiff and formal, so heavy and oppressive with superfluous ornament, that simple curiosity to see what strange vagaries can enter into the heads of the rich, and in what absurd manner they study to spend their abundant wealth, would seem to be the only motive which could tempt a sensible person to enter.

On the other hand we find small, modest cottages, which bear unmistakable evidence of the necessity of close economy, which have far more of real comfort and convenience about them than those splendid mansions, and at the same time they are _gems_, bearing in every part the stamp of true elegance and refinement. They are so beautified by the genuine taste and ingenuity of the occupants, that it is real pleasure to pass from one room to another, or sit quietly and enjoy the sweet enchantment; yet money had little to do toward securing such attractions. It is the fitness of things, the harmonious blending of shape and color, the adaptation of the furniture to the wants of each apartment, that make the whole combination so peculiarly delightful. And yet, how and from what was all this tasteful furnishing constructed? If some of those persons, whose dark and gloomy parlors are hung with the costliest damask, and their furniture carved and upholstered by the most skillful and fashionable workmen, should, by chance, find themselves in one of these pleasant homes, they could not help being captivated by the spirit of the place, in spite of the absence of style or fashion. The elegant, airy, graceful parlors, the rest, the peace and comfort which pervade the whole atmosphere, would be to them a new experience; and what would be their astonishment to learn with how little expense all this, which they acknowledge to be so refreshing, has been secured!

No matter if the purse is not very heavy, young people, with good health and a fair share of taste and ingenuity, have great pleasure in store for themselves, when they undertake together to furnish and beautify a house, which is to be their home. There are so many small conveniences, so many little contrivances, that a carpenter never thinks of, because he has never had woman’s work to do, and therefore cannot see how important these little things are. A woman should know just where an hour’s work, well considered and planned, can be employed to manufacture some convenient thing, that will save much time and strength, and which, however cheaply and roughly made, she can, in a few spare moments, transform into an object of real beauty.

“Harper’s Bazaar,” always full of suggestions, often describes the way of making useful articles beautiful ones. The pictures and explanations are very easily understood, and each one who attempts to profit by these suggestions can elaborate or modify as her skill, time, or means may allow. There is no end to the variety and improvement that will grow out of each successive trial; and certainly no end to the pleasure that one can enjoy in seeing such trophies of taste spring up within and around a new home. A few yards of bright blue, pink, or green paper muslin, with an overskirt of cheap Nottingham lace, dotted muslin, or an old lawn dress, can soon transform a rough half-circle or square piece of board into a pretty washstand or dressing-table. Old broom-handles make good legs for the stands; and a part of the length of the handle, not needed, or some smaller stick, answers nicely for the rounds or braces. The husband can easily bore the holes in the top, into which the legs may be fastened, and also for the braces necessary to keep the table firm; an old piece of cloth does nicely for the under-cover; an old hoop-skirt nailed around the edge of the top, before the wadding and upper cover are put on, is excellent to make the outside skirt hang in a proper manner, or the grandmother’s old-fashioned wire fire-fender, which for years has lain rusting in your mother’s garret, is admirable for that purpose. Then, with the bright, delicately colored paper muslin, and the white lace or lawn overskirt, or cover, you have, with trifling expense, as pretty a toilet-table or washstand as any one need desire. Underneath the hoops or fender you may have a convenient repository for work-basket or boxes, if your house is not well supplied with closets.

“Sleepy Hollows,” sewing-chairs or easy-chairs made from old hogsheads or barrels, and pretty lounges from long packing-boxes, are, we think, among the articles the “Bazar” has sometimes mentioned,--giving pictures and explanations of the manner in which the roughest and hardest work may be executed. From these directions, any one with tolerable skill can gather the first ideas, and then proceed to make the articles, modifying the shape to suit their own fancy.

Pretty ottomans or stools covered to match the furniture of the room are a great convenience, and help to give a genteel, stylish air. If skillfully made and dressed, who could imagine that they are formed from well-cleaned and scoured soap-boxes or butter-tubs, with castors screwed to the bottom, and a cover with hinges on the top, thus serving a double purpose,--making a pleasant seat, easily rolled to any part of the room, and a convenient box or trunk for holding work-bundles, papers, or your boots and slippers.

We never regret the loss of youth and strength so much, or are so near being envious, as when we see young people studying how ingeniously they can arrange a small cottage, and give it the air of beauty and elegance their natures so much crave. They will not find half the pleasure in enjoying it, all perfected, as they would have had in planning and executing; and yet how many throw aside such enjoyment, and turn this pleasant labor into drudgery, not willingly cultivating all the talents God has bestowed upon them, but repining because they cannot afford to employ an upholsterer to furnish what their own skill might have executed perhaps far more satisfactorily.

We will follow these suggestions no further, but hope some of our young housekeepers may be led to improve the hints, in a manner that shall make them converts to the ideas advanced.

LIII.

COOKING BY STEAM.

MUCH has been said of the superiority of steamed food over that which is boiled or baked; and year after year the papers or magazines devoted to domestic economy and the improvement and simplification of household labor have advocated this mode of cooking meats, vegetables, and many other articles of food, every few months recommending some new invention. We have tried one experiment after another, finding, to be sure, some imperfection in all; but enough that was practicable to convince us there was much which was desirable in the idea; and, if able to do the work with our own hands, confident we could reap great advantage from it.

When the mistress of a family has not strength to do her cooking herself, or that part of it which requires more than ordinary judgment and skill, she is not situated so that new modes of work can be tried with much prospect of success. Most servants, particularly the cooks, when accustomed to one mode of work, are very reluctant to change; and, therefore, if the mistress is not able to make all experiments herself, she will soon find, unless fully prepared to have the autocrat of the kitchen abdicate without “giving notice,” that it is safest, and wisest often, to allow a tolerably good girl to move on in the “even tenor of her ways,” without attempting any changes, except those which she can bring about quietly and imperceptibly. This is no very easy lesson for an old housekeeper to learn; but repeated defeats must teach her that patience, as well as discretion, is a “better part of valor.”

In the last century, an American, Benjamin Thompson, made Count Rumford by the Elector of Bavaria for distinguished military and scientific services, gave much time and thought to the study of heat and experiments in cooking, being the inventor of the present style of coal fireplaces and grates, cooking ranges, etc. He was the first person on record, with any pretensions to learning and philosophy, who ever studied the dressing of meat for food as a science. The result was the invention of a boiler for cooking by steam. Within a short time another boiler has been perfected involving the same principles, but containing various improvements over the steamer of the last century, which has been named “Rumford’s Boiler” in compliment to the original inventor. We have been trying it.

Our cook was positive she could never use _that thing_. It was troublesome, took up too much room on the stove, etc. Bless the girl! That is one of the excellences of _that thing_. Little else in the way of utensils is needed on the top of the stove, beside one of these boilers. We stipulated that she should use it two weeks, and if found troublesome, it should share the fate of many other inventions, and no more be said about it. But long before the two weeks expired it had won Mary’s heart entirely, and now she would sooner part with anything else from her kitchen than the “Rumford Boiler.”

One peculiarity of this most excellent boiler is, that unlike all others we have ever seen, neither _steam_ nor _water_ comes in actual contact with the article to be cooked. Two inches of water is put into the bottom of the boiler. Then a large receiver, into which meat, fowl, or fish is put to be cooked, is fitted on tight over the boiling water, and shut off from all possibility of being touched by steam or water by a close-fitting cover. Above this two other pans, or boilers, for vegetables, custards, etc., can be fitted with tight cover also; and the whole boiler, which is about as large but higher than an ordinary wash-boiler, is also closely covered. Very little fuel will keep the water boiling hot when once it has reached that point, as no heat can escape by evaporation. It is not generally understood, or at least it is not borne in mind with sufficient care, that “after water is _just boiling_, all the fuel which is needed to make it boil _violently_ is just so much wasted, without in the smallest degree expediting or shortening the process of cooking. It is by the _heat_, its _intensity_ and the time of its duration, not by the _boiling_ or _bubbling_ up of the water, that the food is cooked.”

In this “Rumford Boiler” the water can be kept at the boiling point with no more fuel than need be used to keep two quarts of water at that temperature. It is the most economical and comfortable arrangement for summer use, and at the same time equally desirable for the winter. Meat cooked in it not only retains all its juice, but also nearly all its original weight, losing about one ounce to a pound; by the regular process of baking, meats lose over four ounces to a pound.

The uniform heat of the boiling water cooks whatever is put into the boiler equally all the way through; no meat, vegetable, or any other article can be scorched. It would seem impossible for the poorest cook to spoil a dinner, so long as she does not let the fire go out or remove the boiler from the stove. Meats require no basting, and in that respect much time and labor can be saved; and the fire once fairly burning can be kept low as soon as the water has reached the boiling point, and no more care of a coal fire is needed till the dinner is ready.

Meat, fish, and vegetables may all be cooked at the same time in this boiler; for being placed in separate receivers with closely fitting covers, no taste can possibly pass from one kind of food to another. Meat thus steamed or cooked is much more juicy, tender, and easy of digestion than when prepared in any other way we know of. No danger of burning, scorching, or overcooking. If left in much longer than is needed, it is not injured by it; for, as no water or steam can reach it, it is only kept hot in its own juices, without the sodden, disagreeable look and taste of meat that has remained too long in boiling water or a perforated steamer; and, what is even as great a recommendation as the excellent flavor of the food, the house is not filled with smoke and smell of cooking.

Besides, if properly cooked, there is no waste,--all is eatable and palatable; even the tip of the wings from birds and poultry, which in baking are dried up and perfectly worthless, are delicious, for there is no sweeter meat than wings, when not dried past use. In steaming all is tender and juicy. When we steam beef, mutton, game, or poultry, we take them from the steamer, dredge over a little flour, and put into the oven about fifteen minutes,--not long enough to dry, but simply brown delicately,--and think it an improvement.

We have also found, by experiments, that we can do many more things with this boiler than we were promised, and with the most gratifying results. We put bread, cake, and pies into it, cover close, and leave them till done; then set them in the oven long enough to secure the rich, golden brown; and now there are no more burnt upper or under crusts, and no more uncooked bottom crust to our pastry.

LIV.

VEGETABLES.

JUNE is the season when vegetables are most abundant and can be had in the greatest variety. Among the numberless articles of food there is nothing so conducive to health as good, fresh, and properly prepared vegetables, and nothing which so easily deranges the whole system if used stale, unripe, or badly cooked. Vegetables having so large a share in our comfort, it is essential that housekeepers should understand how to prepare every variety not only in the most attractive manner, but also in the most healthful way that can be devised.

In the city it is not easy, hardly possible, to procure fresh vegetables. Those only who have a private team, and can send to the adjacent market-gardens, can hope to have them; hence our city housekeepers, who have never had the good fortune to live in the country during the harvest season of vegetables, can hardly realize the difference between peas, beans, corn, etc., which can be gathered early, and eaten almost with the dew upon them, and such as are heaped into market-wagons and brought from a distance, and exposed for hours or days, if the sales are not rapid in our markets, to the air and sun; made to retain the semblance of fresh vegetables by frequent showers from the hose or watering-pot. Nothing so readily destroys all the sweetness and the richest flavors of such articles as these shower-baths; and although the purchaser may fully understand the whole art of cooking, no skill can bring to our city tables such flavors and richness as the farmers or the country gentleman should enjoy daily. It is through carelessness or ignorance if they do not feast luxuriously all summer. Of course, almost all kinds of vegetables can be cooked in a great variety of ways; and as tastes differ widely, and what would please one may be distasteful to another, by this variety every one may be suited; yet there are some general rules that must always remain fixed and immovable; and if not followed, no mode of cooking these viands will be fully satisfactory. Some few items from the history of some of our most common roots and vegetables may not be uninteresting, before giving a review of the mode of preparing and cooking them.

The _Potato_, now one of the most useful and nutritious of the esculent roots, is a native of South America, and first found wild in Chili and Peru, although it is often called _Irish_ potato, and supposed by many to have been first found in Ireland. It was brought to England in 1586, and for a long time was eaten as a _fruit_, or made into pies or puddings, and eaten with sauces and wines. It was so used through the time of Queen Elizabeth. It was planted in Ireland by Sir Walter Raleigh, on one of his estates in that country. After being planted and partly grown, the little green balls, which follow the blossoms, were supposed to be the fruit. Sir Walter had them cooked, but finding them not at all palatable he concluded the crop was a failure, and, as might be supposed, was not very strongly tempted by his first experiment to try it again. But upon turning up the ground, to use for other purposes, to his great satisfaction he found the food he had looked for on the stalk hid in the earth, and of a most desirable character.

After many experiments it was proved that thrice as large a crop of potatoes as of any other root could be produced from an acre, and they soon became the chief food of the Irish peasantry, and remain so to this day.

There is no end to the varieties of the potato that are being brought before the public. New seedlings are announced every year; almost every section has its own special seedling or favorite, which seems excellent there, but deteriorates when planted in other parts; and many kinds which were the best known years ago are now lost sight of entirely. We have not since childhood been able to find the “rusty coats” or “lady’s fingers,” but have never seen a potato that equalled them; partly, no doubt, because one never carries the tastes of childhood into mature age to perfection, but this is not altogether the reason; they were, undoubtedly, very excellent potatoes. The “early rose” is nearer to our idea of the “rusty coats” in flavor, but is not like it in appearance, nor of so perfect a quality.

The potato can be satisfactorily used in more ways than any other edible root,--in bread, pastry, starch, puddings, pies, and salad; boiled, baked, roasted, stewed, fried. It is said “they furnish flour without a mill, and bread without an oven.”

After potatoes are taken from the ground, and have been exposed to the sun and air long enough to dry, the sooner they are placed in a cool, dry cellar the better they will keep. Mrs. Haskill, in her “Housekeeper’s Encyclopædia,” advises that all that are needed for winter use should be packed in barrels, and a little _plaster_ scattered over each layer, to absorb the moisture; such as are to be kept for spring use she thinks should be buried in the ground, and a little plaster be sprinkled over them; also, Mrs. Haskill claims that this is a preventive against _rot_, but does not consider it sure. Whether this is good doctrine, we leave for our scientific farmers.

The _Sweet Potato_ is a tuberous root, very different from our common potato. It is common in tropical climates, where it is much more perfect than in our colder States. There are seldom but two kinds brought to our markets, the red or purple rooted, and the white or yellow rooted. Far South, the red grows to a large size, and is sweeter and more nutritious than those raised at the North. The white or yellow rooted grows more perfectly with us than the red. In New Jersey they are largely raised, and of a good quality. Thirty years ago, sweet potatoes were a luxury on any Northern table: now they are in daily use when in season; but to find them in the greatest perfection we must still go South for them. The young leaves and tender shoots are sometimes boiled as _greens_, and are pronounced quite wholesome.

In California, sweet potatoes grow to an immense size, often weighing four or five pounds, and sometimes eight or ten.