MEALS AND MONEY.
I am going to devote this chapter entirely to the matter of money--that
is to say, to indicating how the income should be apportioned, and what
it costs to feed a small family who are content with nice plain food,
and who do not hanker after elaborate cooking and out-of-the-way dishes;
in which case they must not come to me for advice, as I have really no
information to give them; and to further indicate as far as I
can--outside the limits of a cookery book--some of the meals that can be
managed without either much fuss and worry and an undue expenditure of
money and time.
If Angelina really intends to marry on an income varying between 300_l._
and 500_l._ a year, she must sit down and weigh the _pros_ and _cons_
most carefully. Dress and house-rent are the two items that have risen
considerably during the last few years; otherwise everything is much
cheaper and nicer than it used to be before New Zealand meat came to the
front, and sugar, tea, cheese, all the thousand and one items one
requires in a house, became lower than ever they had been before; and
therefore, if she be clever and willing to put her shoulder to the
domestic wheel, she can most certainly get along much more comfortably
in the way of food than she used to do. For example, when I was married,
sugar was 6_d._ a pound, and now it is 2_d._; and instead of paying
1_s._ 1_d._ a pound for legs of mutton, I give 7½_d._ for New Zealand
meat, which is as good as the best English mutton that one can buy.
Bread, too, is 5½_d._--and ought to be considerably lower--as against
the 8_d._ and 9_d._ of seventeen years ago; and, besides this, there are
a thousand-and-one small things to be bought that one never used to see,
and fish and game are also infinitely less expensive, for in the season
salmon is no longer a luxury, thanks to Frank Buckland, while prime cod
at 4_d._ a pound can hardly be looked upon as a sinful luxury, and this
is the price we paid in the season in the Central Fish Market, where
fish is always to be obtained fresh, cheap, and in as great a variety as
at any West End shop; while of course those detestable Stores, much as I
personally dislike them, have done much for us in lowering the prices of
grocers, who are always willing to give ready-money purchasers every
advantage, the while they are civil, send the purchased articles home,
make out their own bills, and take care their customers are not worried
to death, as they are at the Stores by supercilious youths, who make the
place a rendezvous, and simper with girls who have been sent to do
shopping, and combine it with large instalments of flirtation. No, I
must say I have not one good word for the Stores; and, furthermore, I
detest them because, living as I do a little way out of town, I am
persecuted on my return journeys with enormous parcels, of all sorts and
descriptions, that jam one’s elbows, fall down incontinently on one’s
best bonnet, and are pushed under one’s feet, until the twenty minutes’
travel are rendered purgatorial by people who will shop at the Stores,
and are in consequence turned completely for the nonce into beasts of
burden, all to save a very problematic shilling or two; but as cabs to
and from the station have to be added to the fare to town, I venture to
state they would be far better served by a local grocer, or by either
Whiteley or Shoolbred, whose prices are the same as at the Stores, and
whose carts come to one’s door. But these little points are just where
the ordinary woman’s finance comes utterly to an end. She can readily
comprehend that sugar at 2_d._ a pound is cheaper than sugar at 3_d._;
but tell her to add to the cost of this the fare to town, wear and tear
of temper, gloves, and clothes, odd cabs, and the necessary luncheon,
and she is floored at once. She recognises the 2_d._ as against the
3_d._ immediately, but she cannot grasp the rest; besides which, at the
Stores she sees one hundred and one things that she buys simply because
they are cheap, and not because she requires them in the very least; so
if Angelina values her peace of mind let her eschew the Stores, and,
instead, talk to her nearest grocer on the subject, and see what can be
done with him before she goes elsewhere.
Now, I think, that 2_l._, or, at the most, 2_l._ 10_s._, should keep
Angelina, Edwin, and the model maid per week in comfort, and yet allow
of no scrimping; but in this case Angelina must put a good deal of
common-sense in her purse as well as money. Meat for three people need
not be more than 12_s._, 4_s._ for bread and flour, 2_s._ for eggs,
4_s._ for milk, half a pound of tea at 2_s._ 6_d._--if they will drink
tea--1lb. of coffee made of equal proportions of East India, Mocha, and
Plantation, comes to about 1_s._ 7_d._, sugar 6_d._, butter (2lbs.,
enough for three people) 3_s._, and the rest can be kept in hand for
fruit, fish, chickens, washing; and the thousand and one odds and ends
that are always turning up at the most unpropitious moments; such as
stamps, boot-mending (two items that have largely assisted in turning my
hair grey), ink, paper, string, and, in fact, all those things that an
unmarried girl rather fancies grow in the house, and that she is very
much surprised to find have to be purchased.
In any case, let me implore Angelina to pay her books every week
herself, and never on any account to run up bills anywhere for anything.
Let her never be tempted to have any single thing that she cannot pay
for on the spot; and she will live happily, and be able to ‘speak with
her enemies’--if she have any--‘in the gate’; that is to say, she can
boldly interview her tradespeople, knowing she owes them nothing, and
coming cash in hand can demand the best article in the market, which is,
after all, the due of those who go and buy for ready money and should
never be given to those who will have credit. There is nothing so dear
as credit--please remember that, my readers, and start as you mean to go
on by paying for everything as you have it; and, above all, know from
your husband what he can give you, and have this regularly once a month.
If you are fit to be his wife at all, you are fit to spend his money,
and to spend it, moreover, without the haggling and worrying over each
item that is considered necessary by some men to show their superiority
over their women folk, but which should never be allowed for a moment;
and should our bride have a small income of her own, this should be
retained for her dress, personal expenses, &c., and should not be put
into the common fund, for the man should keep the house and be the
bread-winner; but, alas! middle-class brides have seldom anything to
call their own, their parents thinking they have done all they need for
them, should they find them a husband and a certain amount of clothes.
I very much myself disapprove of the way middle-class parents have of
marrying off their daughters and giving them nothing beyond their
trousseaux; and I do hope that soon fathers and mothers will copy the
French more in this matter of a dowry than they do now. I maintain that
they are bound to give their daughters, beyond and over such an
education as shall allow them to keep themselves, the same sum when
married as they received when unmarried, so shall they be to a certain
extent independent and have a little something to call their own. Why,
in most cases, if Angelina wants to give Edwin a present she has to buy
it out of his own money! Can there be a more unenviable position for a
young wife, to whom very often the mere asking for money is as painful
as it is degrading? It would not hurt any father to give his daughter
50_l._ a year, and the difference it would make in that daughter’s
comfort and position is unspeakable; and would not be more than half
what she would cost him were she to remain on his hands a sour old maid.
Another thing I disapprove of is placing the household books week by
week or month by month under the husband’s inspection; it leads to
endless jars and frets, and discussions; therefore, having talked
matters over once and for all, discuss money no more until you require
additions to your allowance as the family increases; or can do with
less; only know always how matters are going in business, so as to
increase or retrench in a manner suitable, should circumstances alter.
Domestic matters must, of course, be discussed now and again between
husband and wife; but a sensible woman keeps these subjects in the
background, and no more troubles her husband with the price of butter,
or the cook’s delinquencies, than he does his wife over the more
intimate details of his office, which he keeps for his clerks and his
partners generally; while the day’s papers, the book on hand, people one
has seen, are all far more interesting things than Maria’s temper,
Jane’s breakages, or than the grocer’s bill, which, if higher than it
ought to be, is Angelina’s own fault, and can only be altered by
herself, and not by worrying Edwin.
Common-sense housekeeping can only be done if the eyes be constantly
open to see and the ears to hear. Waste must never be allowed. No
servant should be kept who wastes, and if there be no dust-bin, save for
cinders, no pig’s tub, no man calling at the door for bottles, and,
above all, if there be a mistress who is always on the alert to use
anyone else’s experience, housekeeping need be nothing of a bugbear, and
can be done at one quarter the price that it usually costs. But most
girls marry in perfect ignorance of everything save the plot of the
last novel, the music of the last opera, the fashion of the last dress,
and undertake duties they neither care for nor mean to understand,
seeing nothing beyond the wedding finery, which is far too often an
occasion of almost criminal display, and that must indeed appear a
mockery to the poor bride, who contemplates her foolish wedding dress
and wishes profoundly she had the money it cost her.
The great curse now of English households is this seeming to be what you
are not, this wretched pretending of 400_l._ to be 800_l._; the shirking
of work, domestic details, and common-sense housekeeping that
characterises the bride of this day, who only wants to enjoy herself and
spend a little more, see a little more gaiety than the last bride did,
and who sees nothing holy in the name of wife, only a mere emancipation
from the schoolroom; who wants to decorate a house, not make a home; and
who sees in her children, not human souls to train for time and for
eternity, but pretty dolls to dress, to attract attention, or tiresome
objects to be got rid of at school at the earliest opportunity.
That marriage means much more than this is gradually borne in upon the
butterfly, who either sobers down in the course of years, and becomes
faded and worn and peevish; or else, impatient of control, she breaks
all bounds, and the whole family is disgraced by an _esclandre_ that is
as terrible as it is preventible. With such women as this we have
nothing to do; but many of these poor creatures would have been saved
had they been brought up properly, so I trust, after all, my words on
the subject of common-sense housekeeping will not be considered out of
place.
Though they are certainly a little discursive, still they have to do
with money emphatically, and that was the first part of the subject I
proposed to treat of in this chapter, so before I leave it let me say
just a few words on the best system of keeping accounts, a most
necessary portion of any woman’s business as mistress of a household.
The best authority I know on the subject of accounts is a personal
friend who began housekeeping many years ago on a very small and
uncertain income. Her husband was a literary man, and had of course that
most tiresome and extravagance-encouraging income--a fluctuating one;
yet she told me only the other day she could tell to a sixpence what she
had spent ever since she was married; that at the end of the year she
always sat down, first with her husband, then with her grown-up
daughters, and carefully went over each month’s expenditure, and in this
way she was enabled to manage well, for a glance would show her, if she
had spent too much, where she could retrench, or where, if the income
had increased, she could best ‘launch out’ in order to insure more
comforts and less forethought and worry: in consequence of her
arrangements she was always beforehand with the world, and never owed a
sixpence she could not pay. A young housekeeper is often bewildered
between account books. She buys one, of course, and then is bothered by
detail, or begins to find ‘sundries’ a most convenient entry--and so,
alas! it is. But our model housekeeper shrinks from sundries, or any of
these somewhat mean subterfuges, and boldly discovers how she has spent
her money, although I must confess I myself am such a bad hand at this
sort of thing that, could I be seen, I feel convinced I should be found
to be blushing violently at giving advice which I far too often do not
follow; indeed, I always feel inclined to imitate the old woman-servant
whose balance sheet consisted of so many ‘foggets,’ among other items,
that her master (of course he was a bachelor), confused with the idea of
having so much firewood, begged her for an explanation, when she
remarked, ‘’Taint faggots, master; _’tis forgets_.’ Fortunately her
honesty had been tried by many a long year’s service, or she might have
got into serious trouble; and I think when we too have ‘forgets’ we are
not unlikely to get into trouble when at last we have to face boldly a
day of reckoning, which must come sooner or later.
But if I am not a good hand at accounts my friend is, and I here append
a leaf from her account book, which, ruled and written by herself, is to
me a model of what it should be. Of course the columns can be added to,
to any extent, but this will show at once how to keep one’s bills before
one: in such a manner, that one sees at once how and where the money has
gone, and I can but hope this capital system will be adopted at once by
all those who are starting in life with the best resolve of all, that
nothing shall persuade them to get into debt.
And here let me say that there should always be a special column for
medical attendance; and without doubting the medical profession in the
least, let me impress upon all who have to call in a physician to note
his visits in the column set apart for the purpose. I always note a
doctor’s visits in my diary, as this often checks his accounts, for,
without meaning to be dishonest, a doctor often makes the most
astounding mistakes. For example, not long ago I saved myself 7_l._ on a
doctor’s bill by sending an exorbitant account back to my then doctor,
drawing his attention to the fact that by my diary only so many visits
had been paid, whereas so many had evidently been charged for; when the
clerk wrote back to say the error had been made in the addition, and
that of course this would have been rectified next time! I can’t say if
it would have been; all I know is, I was saved the money by always
putting down the visits; so I most strongly advise Angelina to put the
column in her account book as a reminder, even if she cannot put down in
that the exact sum; and I must say I do most heartily wish it were
+--------+---------------------+-------------+--------------+------------->
| | | Greengrocer | Coal, Gas, & | Rent, Rates |
| | | | Lighting | and Taxes |
| | +-------------+--------------+------------->
| 1887 | | £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._ | £ _s._ _d._|
| Jan. 1 | Messrs. Slater & Co.| -- | -- | -- |
| “ 5 | Smith | -- | -- | -- |
| “ 6 | Whiteley’s account | -- | 5 0 0 | -- |
| “ 7 | Income Tax | -- | -- | 10 0 0 |
| “ 8 | Water Rate | -- | -- | 2 4 0 |
| “ 9 | Poor Rate | -- | -- | 5 0 0 |
| “ 10 | Christmas Rent | -- | -- | 25 0 0 |
| “ 11 | One quarter Gas, } | | | |
| | due Christmas } | -- | 5 0 0 | -- |
| “ 15 | Housemaid | -- | -- | -- |
| “ 16 | Parlourmaid | -- | -- | -- |
| “ 17 | Cook | -- | -- | -- |
| “ 18 | Worth | -- | -- | -- |
| “ 19 | Mrs. Jones | -- | -- | -- |
| “ 20 | Potatoes | 0 10 0 | -- | -- |
| “ 25 | Fish account | -- | -- | -- |
| “ 27 | Sundry Groceries | -- | -- | -- |
| “ 28 | Coal | -- | 5 0 0 | -- |
| | +-------------+--------------+------------->
| | Total | 0 10 0 | 15 0 0 | 42 4 0 |
+--------+---------------------+-------------+--------------+------------->
+--------+---------------------+-------------+------------->
| | | Wages | Dress |
| | | | |
| | +-------------+------------->
| 1887 | | £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ d_._|
| Jan. 1 | Messrs. Slater & Co.| -- | -- |
| “ 5 | Smith | -- | -- |
| “ 6 | Whiteley’s account | -- | -- |
| “ 7 | Income Tax | -- | -- |
| “ 8 | Water Rate | -- | -- |
| “ 9 | Poor Rate | -- | -- |
| “ 10 | Christmas Rent | -- | -- |
| “ 11 | One quarter Gas, } | | |
| | due Christmas } | -- | -- |
| “ 15 | Housemaid | 5 0 0 | -- |
| “ 16 | Parlourmaid | 6 0 0 | -- |
| “ 17 | Cook | 7 10 0 | -- |
| “ 18 | Worth | -- | 20 0 0 |
| “ 19 | Mrs. Jones | -- | -- |
| “ 20 | Potatoes | -- | -- |
| “ 25 | Fish account | -- | -- |
| “ 27 | Sundry Groceries | -- | -- |
| “ 28 | Coal | -- | -- |
| | +-------------+------------->
| | Total | 18 10 0 | 20 0 0 |
+--------+---------------------+-------------+------------->
+--------+---------------------+-------------+-------------+
| | | Washing | Total |
| | | | |
| | +-------------+-------------+
| 1887 | | £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._|
| Jan. 1 | Messrs. Slater & Co.| -- | 5 0 0 |
| “ 5 | Smith | -- | 1 0 0 |
| “ 6 | Whiteley’s account | -- | 6 10 0 |
| “ 7 | Income Tax | -- | 10 0 0 |
| “ 8 | Water Rate | -- | 2 4 0 |
| “ 9 | Poor Rate | -- | 5 0 0 |
| “ 10 | Christmas Rent | -- | 25 0 0 |
| “ 11 | One quarter Gas, } | | |
| | due Christmas } | -- | 5 0 0 |
| “ 15 | Housemaid | -- | 5 0 0 |
| “ 16 | Parlourmaid | -- | 6 0 0 |
| “ 17 | Cook | -- | 7 10 0 |
| “ 18 | Worth | -- | 20 0 0 |
| “ 19 | Mrs. Jones | 2 0 0 | 2 0 0 |
| “ 20 | Potatoes | -- | 0 10 0 |
| “ 25 | Fish account | -- | 3 0 0 |
| “ 27 | Sundry Groceries | -- | 2 0 0 |
| “ 28 | Coal | -- | 5 0 0 |
| | +-------------+-------------+
| | Total | 2 0 0 |110 14 0 |
+--------+---------------------+-------------+-------------+
etiquette for doctors to send in their bills made out in items, instead
of that business way of ‘To medical attendance, &c.,’ for I cannot see
why they should not. Even a lawyer gives items of his detestable
accounts; and what should we say to a modiste who sent in her bill, ‘To
dress and draperies to date,’ without items? I like to know what I am
paying for; and why should not my case, mentioned above, be the case of
many? One word before I leave the doctor--pay his bill at once; no one
is kept waiting longer than a doctor; no one _usually_ deserves his
money more; it is a disagreeable bill to keep about, and should be
always settled as soon as possible.
Now for one hint more, as applying both to meals and money. If you want
to save begin with the butcher and the brewer--not that I for one moment
want to run down beer--my husband being a brewer, I should not be likely
to do so; and I mention this fact to show I cannot be a rabid
teetotaler--but I do say and maintain that beer is not necessary for
women and for women servants, that young people especially do not
require stimulants--I, for one, never took either wine or beer until I
had passed the pleasant age of thirty-one or thirty-two--and that milk
is far better for both servants and children, youths and maidens, than
malt liquor of any sort or description, and that therefore milk should
be a somewhat large item in the housekeeping accounts. Angelina should
have milk for luncheon and milk instead of that odious tea after dinner;
Mary Jane should be encouraged to drink milk with her supper, and a
proportionate save is at once made in the accounts, though, after all,
one can only give general ideas on this subject, as, of course,
individual tastes have to be studied, and no one person’s expenditure is
quite a guide for another’s. Many people dislike milk, and this subject
of a pleasant beverage is one that often harasses me mentally a good
bit, for I don’t honestly think filtered boiled water pleasant
(unfiltered unboiled water is unsafe drinking), and unless we fall back
on milk and home-made lemonade, we are rather hopeless, for beer is out
of the question, as far as I am concerned, in kitchen and schoolroom,
and if some genius would invent something cheap, healthy, palatable, and
without alcohol in it, I for one will patronise him largely, and give
him honourable mention, if not a medal, all to himself.
Still, until that is done I strongly advise Angelina to pay the milkman
rather than the brewer, and by drinking milk herself to set an example
which will speak louder than any amount of argument. And general ideas,
too, can only be given on the subject of meals. Yet general ideas are
most useful as a species of foundation on which to raise the rest of the
fabric, so I will shortly sketch out now a foundation scheme that should
be of great assistance to those girls who are beginning housekeeping on
small means, and less knowledge of the subject on which depends so much
of their welfare and happiness.
It maybe of some little assistance to Angelina if I begin my short
dissertation on meals by giving her one or two hints as to what to have
for breakfast, before passing on to other subjects, as in some small
households this always appears to me to be somewhat of a stumbling-block
to a young mistress, accustomed to see a large amount of variety,
prepared for a grown-up family.
What is eaten for breakfast depends, naturally, a great deal on
individual tastes, and there are endless little dishes that require the
attention of a first-rate cook; but Angelina and Edwin must rise
superior to this, for they will not be able to afford such things even
if they desire them, and I do hope they do not, for I do not know a more
despicable way of spending one’s time or one’s money than in squandering
it over food and expensive cooks. If things are nice and are nicely sent
to table, that should suffice, and I think perhaps a few simple hints on
the subject would not be out of place, for while Angelina should, of
course, order carefully all that is required, I see no reason why she
should rack her brain and harass her cook, particularly when that damsel
will have to do a great deal besides merely cooking the breakfast.
Whatever else there is not, there should be a little fruit. Oranges,
pears, apples, and grapes are cheap enough if purchased with sense, and
as ‘dessert,’ as a rule, is unnecessary save for appearances--and we are
too sensible to think only of these--I should advise the fruit that
nobody appears to grudge the money for then; appearing at breakfast,
where it makes the table look pretty, and where it is really good for
both young and old folks, too. Then, if possible, have either honey or
marmalade, it is much healthier and cheaper than butter, and generally
try to have either a tongue (3_s._ 6_d._) or a nice ham (8_s._ 6_d._) in
cut, it is such a useful thing to have in the house; as also are
sardines (1_s._ a box, large size, 6½_d._ small), as if unexpected
folk drop in to luncheon, or supper be required instead of dinner, they
are there to ‘fall back upon’; and if they appear at breakfast some
really fresh eggs, nicely fried bacon, curried kidneys or plain kidneys,
mushrooms, a most healthy dish, and not too expensive at some times of
the year; curried eggs and rice, bloaters, and bloater-toast,
occasionally a fresh sole, a mackerel split open, peppered, and salted
and grilled, a cutlet of cod, an occasional sausage (and ever since I
can remember we always have had sausages for breakfast on Sundays), form
a list from which a single dish can be chosen, and which should suffice,
more especially when we consider the honey and fruit, both of which look
nice on the table, are more wholesome, and save the butter and meat
bill. And once the cook is trained into our ways, and she knows what to
do, there is no need to order breakfast, a great comfort for those who
have much domestic routine of food to think of before beginning the day.
Do not have hot buttered toast or hot bread. Those two items make the
butter bill into a nightmare, and are also most unhealthy, but have nice
fresh brown bread, Nevill’s hot-water bread, the nicest bread made,
oat-cake (2_s._ a large tin at any good grocer’s), and fresh, crisp, dry
toast, and then I think neither Edwin nor Angelina can complain, more
especially if a nice white cloth (freshly taken from the press, in which
all cloths should be put folded the moment they are taken from the
table), with a pretty red border, and nicely folded napkins, each in its
own ring and each embroidered with initials in red, be used, and I think
that I shall not be suspected of being a fussy old maid, if I suggest
that the crumbs should be brushed off by the maid and the cloth folded
with Angelina’s assistance, in which case it will last twice as long as
it would if, as usual, it is crumpled up and shaken out at the back door
in a manner much affected by careless servants. But these trifles save
the washing bill, which in these days is no light consideration.
At first another meal that will trouble our bride is that most necessary
of all meals--luncheon. By-and-bye, when little folks have to be thought
of, this midday dinner becomes a very easy business, but I must own that
luncheon and the servant’s dinner combined is a terrible trouble during
the first year or two of married life.
I think it was Shirley Brooks who used to say he believed that were
women left to themselves they would never have dinner at all, and that
they would either keep something in a cupboard and eat from it when
positively driven to do so by the pangs of hunger, or else they would
have a tray brought up with tea, bread-and-butter, and an egg, and think
they had done well; and I confess freely that my first idea when I hear
that the lord and master of my establishment is going out to dine is,
‘Thank goodness, there will be no dinner to order;’ but this is all very
well occasionally, albeit I don’t see why we women should not have the
same amount of food alone as when in company, but it becomes serious if
it goes on for long; therefore I once more impress upon Angelina to be
sure and have her proper luncheon, just as she used to do at home with
her sisters and mother before she was married. Another reason for the
midday meal is that no servant will ever grumble at the food prepared
for them if it has first been into the dining-room, and a good deal of
trouble of this kind would be saved. It is, I own, very difficult to
find food for three women that is economical as well as satisfactory,
but a fair arrangement would be as follows:--Of course there will be a
small piece of beef on Sunday; for a small household about 6 lbs. of the
ribs of beef is best. This should be boned (the bones coming in for
Monday night’s soup) and rolled, and sent to table with horse-radish,
placed on the meat; Yorkshire pudding, which should be cooked _under the
meat_, and sent in on a separate very hot dish, and appropriate
vegetables according to the time of year. For a large hungry family a
piece of 12 lbs. of the top side of the round should be chosen. There is
only very little bone here, and not too much fat, and besides being
cheaper than any other joint it is most economical, and as nice as
anything else. But more of this anon.
The beef can be cold for Angelina and the maids on Monday, with, say, a
lemon pudding. On Tuesday ‘dormers’ can be made, with rice and cold
beef, and sent in very hot, with nice gravy, and simple pudding; a mould
of cornflour and jam is delicious. Wednesday, a small amount of fish
could be purchased, and cold beef used if desired. Rice pudding, made
with a méringue crust, is very good indeed. Thursday, if no more beef be
left, a nice boiled rabbit could be had, with some bacon round, and a
custard pudding. Friday, 1½ lb. of the lean part of the neck of
mutton would make a delicious stew, and pancakes could follow. Saturday,
about three pounds of pork could be roasted, and sent in with a savoury
pudding and apple-sauce, and a sago pudding to conclude the repast. This
could be finished cold at Sunday’s supper. Here is variety and economy
combined. One great thing I find in housekeeping on a larger scale is to
have one or two good-sized joints, and to fill in the corners with fish,
poultry, and rabbits. Fish can always be contracted for cheaply. I pay
2_s._ a day, and get an ample supply for dinner and breakfast, and
sometimes enough for the schoolroom tea too; and poultry and rabbits can
often be bought at the London markets very inexpensively, while I
procure my chickens from delightful people in Liverpool, Messrs. Hasson
and Co., 12 Dawson Street, who sell them to me at prices varying from
4_s._ 6_d._ to 5_s._ 6_d._ the couple, according to the time of year.
Edwin’s dinner requires, of course, more consideration, and he may have
very pronounced tastes that require special studying, but in any case I
say it is well and economical to have soup and fish before the meat.
Soup made from bones and vegetables is as cheap and as nice as anything
I know, and sixpence or a shilling a day will keep you in fish, if you
set about this properly; but the great thing about all meals is to have
what you may like sent to table looking nice, and to have none of the
accessories forgotten, an elaborate and expensive meal ungracefully
served on ugly china, or without flowers, and with half the condiments
forgotten, being often enough to spoil any one’s temper, when a cheap,
well-cooked dinner, prettily and tastefully put before Edwin, will
satisfy him, more especially when the household books are equally
satisfactory when pay-day comes.
Let me conclude this chapter by once more impressing on our young
housekeepers never to allow jars and squabbles about money. At first
starting know everything about your income, and settle exactly what is
to suffice for dress and food, and have a settled day, once a month is
best, on which to receive that allowance. Should Edwin have a fixed
income this is a comparatively easy matter to settle between husband and
wife; but should it fluctuate, as the income does of a man who lives by
his pen, pencil, or even by stockbroking (a manner of living that would
drive me mad) or by rents from land, it is safe to arrange expenditure
on the basis of the _least_ sum obtained by these means, drawing an
average for the last three years, any surplus going on joyfully towards
the second year, towards procuring books, taking a holiday, or bringing
something home for the house; there being no pleasure like that of
spending money we can feel is thoroughly our own, and that may actually
be wasted if we like on something delightful, because it is not required
to pay some odious bill or replace some ugly and necessary article.