The nursing and care in the main is doubtless the mother’s office; but

in extreme cases it should be borne together. Being naturally more

with the child in early infancy, of course the mother has a closer

intimacy. But in a well-organized, loving family, you will note that

while the love is given to both parents alike, when questions of weight

arise, even in early years, the child turns to the father for the final

word which shall be infallible. The mother’s gentler, tenderer tone

settles every-day questions, but there is strength and authority in

the father’s voice from which they are not often tempted to appeal,

and a good wife and mother recognizes this state. It is a sad house

when the hearts of mother and children cannot, with love and pride,

accept this as the natural and legitimate rule of home government and

education. Even if the mother does not, in her own judgment, accept the

father’s decision with the simple faith with which the child receives

it, it is no evidence of tame submission if she pleasantly reserves her

reasons till they are alone. All argument should be avoided between the

parents before the children on matters connected with the children’s

interest. If appealed to, let the reply be simply, “Father knows

best,” or, “Do as father says.” By this you strengthen your husband’s

hands, and nowise compromise your own conscience or influence. Then

when opportunity offers compare your views and give your reasons for

dissent, in all truth and gentleness.

XXXII.

PAULINE PRY.

WE come this week to spy out the land,--to roam “up stairs, down

stairs, and in the lady’s chamber”; to creep into all by and forbidden

places; to look into the bedrooms, ransack the wardrobes, peep into the

drawers, it may be; overhaul trunks and boxes, perhaps; in short, to

take all manner of liberty and find fault to our heart’s content.

Now we slip, unseen, into the guest-chamber. It is very pleasant and

inviting; but we don’t think the bed is made up very neatly. There

are “humps” in the mattress. It has not been turned over after using,

and well beaten and brought to a good square surface. The sheets and

blankets are not put on smoothly; the fine, Marseilles spread is put

on unevenly, giving a very untidy appearance to the bed, and bringing

so large a proportion of the bedclothes on one side, so as to render

it difficult to turn and press them down properly between the mattress

and side-rail, and of course you cannot, under such circumstances,

give a square, regular shape to the bed. A poorly made bed spoils the

appearance of the room, however elegant the rest of the furnishing may

be.

Pretty sheet and pillow _tidies_ are of great assistance in giving a

fresh, cheerful air to a bedroom. If sheets and pillow slips are neatly

tucked and nicely ironed, the bed will look very inviting at first,

if well made; but after it has been once used, the wrinkled, tumbled

sheets and pillows are not a pleasant sight, and one feels well repaid

for the little trouble of providing tidies, however simple; ruffled

and embroidered, for the spare chamber if you please, but a part of a

fine old linen sheet, with broad hems and narrow tucks, starched and

well ironed, gives a very neat finish to the family bedrooms, and with

careful folding when taken off at night will not need to be done up for

some weeks.

This elegant bureau is all right, as far as it is furnished; but the

guest-chamber should be provided with all the little comforts and

conveniences which a lady thinks necessary in her own room. A handsome

mat or tidy over the marble top, and little mats on each side for

cologne-bottle and watch-stand, or match-box and jewel-case, and a

pretty cushion, will add much to the appearance of this bureau; or

if nothing more, a clean damask towel spread over it is, if not a

necessity, at least a great safeguard against stains on the marble,

and a protection from the disagreeable chill that creeps over one when

resting the hand or arm on the cold marble.

A good comb and brush, free from the slightest suspicion of dirt, a

boot-buttoner, and a paper of pins, ought to be on the bureau or in

the drawer. A friend often remains over night unexpectedly, and, of

course not coming provided for the detention, will find these little

attentions and conveniences a great comfort, and duly appreciate your

kind and thoughtful care.

A little basket of willow or perforated card, embroidered with

some neat and fanciful design, or a bead or muslin bag, is a great

convenience much needed to be hung by the side of the bureau or under

the gas, to hold the hair from comb or brush, burnt matches, bits of

thread or paper. Some such receptacle for loose bits or litter, no

matter how simple, should be near every bureau, which the chambermaid

must empty every morning. A _cuspidor_, or wide-mouthed vase, upon the

floor, is more elegant than a scrap-basket, but much more expensive.

A curtain of white barred muslin or linen is needed back of the

washstand, that the water, in washing, may not soil the paper or paint.

A nail-brush is very convenient, we think a real necessity, for every

bedroom. Get open, upright brush holders, rather than the long flat

ones with a cover, for, by standing the tooth and nail brushes in the

upright dish they drain and soon dry; but if laid down and covered they

are never dry, and in warm weather soon become quite offensively musty.

A good sponge on the washstand and a clean doily hung up with the

towels should be considered as indispensable in any well-furnished

spare room as for those in daily use.

Of course the bureau drawers and wardrobe in this room will be left as

nearly unoccupied as possible; so we will not stop to open them, but

pass into other rooms.

What can be the matter in this young lady’s chamber? As we draw near

the bureau, we perceive a most unpleasant smell. We must take the

liberty of opening this drawer. Whew! the first breath reveals the

mystery.

The brush has been wet to brush the hair, and then without drying shut

from the air in the drawer. There is no smell so sickening! It pervades

the whole bureau. No perfume can overcome it; and by using the brush,

damp and uncleansed day after day, the odor is carried wherever this

careless person goes. We have sat by people in church who have used

such a brush, and could hardly remain during the service. The cause is

unmistakable and cannot be concealed. If no other means can destroy

this bad habit, we would recommend that any one so thoughtless should

read an article we saw not long since in “Harper’s Bazar” on the

vegetable growth, in brush, comb, hair, and scalp, produced by wetting

the brush or hair, and leaving them undried or uncleansed. We think

once reading that description would be sufficient cure.

The hair-brush should be combed free from hair or dandruff every time

it is used, and laid by an open window till well aired and dried, if

ladies will persist in wetting the hair or brush. A brisk movement of a

dry brush through the hair will soon create a fine lustre on the hair,

whereas wetting diminishes the gloss so beautiful in well-kept hair;

but we forget that that is an old-fashioned idea. The progress of art

and elegance teaches that a wilderness of fuzzy, frizzled hair is now

the crowning beauty. Tastes differ, but no change in style or fashion

will object, we hope, to a clean, sweet brush; and to secure that it

must once a week, at least, be well washed in warm soapsuds, in which

a little soda has been dissolved. Soda is better than ammonia, as it

cleanses without stimulating the _vegetable growth_ spoken of in the

“Bazar,” to which we just referred. Comb the brush while washing, that

the suds may penetrate to the roots of the bristles, and cleanse every

part; then rinse in warm water, rub dry as you can, and put in the

window, or by the fire if the weather is damp, to dry. This care should

not be neglected by any one who makes any pretension to neatness.

The bureau drawers in this room are not in good order. You will lose

much time, and we think a good deal of self-respect, when next you need

a handkerchief or stockings, for everything here seems to have been

stirred up by a whirl-wind or a sleep-walker. It will require some

skill and more patience than you can spare to separate this wretched

tangle.

The pipes in the wash-basin and bath-room are slimy and foul,

indicative of neglect. They should be well washed every morning, and

once a week a pail of boiling suds, with a spoonful or two of soda or

potash, must be poured in, to eat away all impurities, and sweeten the

pipes. In passing, let us say this care is more especially necessary in

the kitchen sinks. They require a stronger suds, and more soda or lye,

and more attention, to eat out all the grease that will accumulate in

washing dishes.

The discoloration around the bell-pull, door-knobs, etc., shows that

a careless girl has not protected the wall or paint while cleaning

them, and the mistress has not kept her eyes open. A bit of oil-cloth,

with a hole in the center, to slip over the knobs or bell-pulls while

rubbing, would have saved this defacement of paint and paper. And the

finger-marks on the doors also tell a sad story of neglect. They need

to be washed off once a week--twice, if little fingers are about--with

a soft flannel, wrung out of hot suds.

In the sitting-room, the mantel over the grate has not been washed

every morning when the fire is lighted in the grate. It should be. See!

the gas and smoke from coal or kindlings have turned the white marble

quite yellow. Wash it in hot suds, strong with ammonia, to remove the

spots, and then use a clean brush and hot suds every morning, and you

will save much time, and be well rewarded with an unspotted mantel.

We can’t pry about any longer, but there is no knowing when we may be

tempted again to meddle with our friends’ housekeeping.

XXXIII.

BUY YOUR CAGE BEFORE YOU CATCH YOUR BIRD.

A YOUNG lady writes that this old adage is often repeated to her “in

connection with grave warnings against early engagements and early

marriages,” and asks for our opinion and advice.

This old proverb sounds very wise, and if taken literally may, for

aught we know, be correct doctrine; but when used as a warning, in the

connection which our friend suggests, we don’t more than half believe

in it. We are no advocate for very long engagements or unreasonably

early marriages; but we do believe that the happiest marriages are

of those between whom the love was early plighted, and that close

observation will prove that such are the most likely to stand the

test of time, and pass through the many rough and hazardous paths of

married life with the most cheerful fortitude. Those who have delayed

marriage till their habits have become too firmly established to yield

kindly to another’s wishes or peculiarities have not, we think, so sure

a prospect of a pleasant and harmonious life. We would sooner trust

an early union to carry the wedded pair down to a peaceful old age,

not only without losing the love that first united them, but with the

firm hope that it would grow brighter and brighter until that perfect

day when both, having passed over the river, shall stand with clearer

vision and purified affection before the throne of God.

When school-days are over and the young man enters upon his chosen

occupation, and the maiden leaves her school-room to return to her

mother’s care, then we believe that a betrothal formed with pure love

for the basis is a great safeguard. It protects the lover from many

temptations by which young men away from home are beset, especially in

the city. They have little society save such transient companions as

may cross their path, and who will, perhaps, seek to entice them to

find pleasure in low and unrefined, if not in really impure and sinful

courses. In the evening, after the day’s work is ended, time hangs

heavy on their hands, they crave something, they know not what, and are

easily entrapped.

Now, while a true love will teach a man to turn from such pleasures

in disgust, it will also save the maiden any desire to indulge in the

flirtations and coquetries with which gay and fashionable society

tempts young and unguarded girls to degrade themselves. An _engagement_

does not always prevent this, we are sorry to say, but _pure love_ will

prove an unfailing protection.

Neither do we believe an engagement should be protracted after the

lover has entered upon his business or profession, until he has

accumulated sufficient wealth to keep his bird in a golden cage.

Begin real life together. That is the true way, all the sweeter and

happier if you begin small. The less style and display there is, the

more time each will have to study the home character of the one they

have accepted as a companion for life, and the better opportunity to

learn easily how to bear and forbear, to tone down such peculiarities

as are not conducive to mutual confidence and harmony. In all

characters there will be such peculiarities,--it is quite right there

should be,--but by carrying the same gentleness and courtesy into

domestic life which was so easily and naturally given in the days of

courtship, yielding a little, giving up one to the other, the early

wedded become assimilated, and find in their union an ever-increasing

joy, which a later marriage, when the habits become fixed and

unyielding, seldom realizes.

“But to begin life in a small way, with limited means, subjects one

to much drudgery and many deprivations; besides, we lose caste. Those

who knew us in our father’s house, surrounded with comfort and luxury,

would scarcely deign to notice us if found in circumstances so at

variance with our parents’ mode of life.”

Such friends are scarcely worth the securing. You have outgrown

babyhood and childhood, and, having entered upon man’s and woman’s

estate, surely do not expect to be always cradled in your parents’

arms; but if you are of any worth you should cheerfully accept life

as you find it. “Its rough ascents or flowing slopes,” if trod

together and in love, will insure genuine happiness, and we often

think one stores up quite as much real pleasure while passing through

the rough places as when walking among the flowers. We know that the

retrospection is often a source of unfailing enjoyment.

Many, we are aware, find great delight in selecting the house that

is to be their home, and furnishing it as elaborately and tastefully

as their means will permit, perhaps even beyond a safe limit, and

then _surprising_ the bride by ushering her into this unexpected

establishment. The surprise is doubtless effected, but although the

annoyance may be concealed, in nine cases out of ten we venture to say

it is keenly felt. When possible, both should act together in selecting

the house, or it may be “rooms,” where is to be their home, and the

taste and judgment of both be consulted in selecting the furniture

which they expect to have before their eyes daily. In examining and

counseling together frequently, they modify each other’s tastes, and in

the end are far better satisfied than if either had done the work alone.

The money for furnishing a house is often provided as a part of the

bride’s outfit, and of course, if she chooses so to consider the

matter, it is her right to select the furniture, without consulting

another’s taste or wishes. But the older we grow the more we are

satisfied that _my rights_ should be erased from the matrimonial

dictionary, and _our rights_ substituted.

XXXIV.

CARE IN SELECTING A HOUSE.

CHOOSING a house or tenement is one of the cares that often devolves

upon the wife, and demands great skill, good judgment, and sound

common-sense, because there are so many things to be taken into

consideration. We have been favored with a book published in London

entitled “The Best of Everything.” We have not yet so thoroughly

examined its contents as to be able to judge if it warrants that title,

but have been much pleased with some “Hints on choosing, buying, or

building a House,” and think our readers will be better pleased with

some extracts from that chapter than with anything we could furnish:--

“Select a cheerful, healthy locality, and be sure the rent, including

taxes, etc., does not exceed one sixth of your income. Do not choose

a neighborhood merely because it is fashionable, and carefully avoid

occupying a dwelling in a neighborhood of doubtful reputation.

“Be sure that the house is dry, with convenient sewerage and plenty

of water. A southern or western aspect is to be preferred. Should the

house be infested with vermin, avoid it. See that windows and doors are

well secured, that there are proper means of ventilation, and that the

chimneys do not smoke.

“Let all needful repairs be made by the landlord before the completion

of your agreement, otherwise you will probably be required to execute

them at your own expense. Do not deal with a landlord commonly reputed

to be disobliging, greedy, or litigious. In every case have a lease

properly drawn out and stamped.

“Avoid the neighborhood of a sluggish stream, a mill-dam, or

fresh-water lake. The penalties are rheumatism, ague, impaired

eyesight, loss of appetite, asthma, and many other ailments. Choose

a house away from the vicinity of tan-yards and tallow, soap, and

chemical works, old and crowded burying-grounds, or slaughter-houses.

A low situation is perilous, especially during the prevalence of

epidemics.

“Never lease a house in a narrow street if you can help it, unless the

back premises are open and extensive. Houses built with sea-sand will

in the winter months discharge moisture and be unhealthy. A house with

two entrances is more healthy than with only one. Before closing your

bargain, try to learn something of the house from a former occupant.

“If you wish to purchase instead of leasing, do not trust to

appearances or rely on your own judgment; but when you have found a

house likely to suit your family and your purse, employ a surveyor to

inspect every portion of it. He will examine the foundations, the state

of the sewerage, and the character of the materials which form the

walls, the joints, flooring, and other wood-work. He will be able to

detect if soft bricks have been used, by finding traces of dampness at

the bottom of the walls. Let a lawyer examine all papers necessary to

secure a full possession.

“Beware of rashly purchasing fixtures, such as window-blinds or

curtains, hall carpets, or kitchen furniture; new articles may be found

in the end more economical.

“Make an effort to pay the whole of the purchase-money. A bond on your

house may endanger your credit and affect your comfort.

“If instead of buying a house, you wish to build, select your locality;

but before completing the arrangements, ascertain the precise nature of

the soil. In a gravelly soil you will readily secure good foundations;

but if you find clay, or moist earth, be cautious. You may, indeed,

procure an artificial foundation by laying a bed of concrete; but this

will be attended with considerable expense. Consult an architect; he

will make a plan for your approval, and prepare working plans, and a

specification. If the house is to be built of brick, be careful to

examine the quality of the bricks, and also of the mortar. Personally

inspect the plumber’s work, which, if inferior, will expose you to

endless expense afterwards.

“Do not allow zinc to be used either as gutters or water-pipes; it

wastes under exposure.

“When a new house passes out of the hands of the carpenters, the

painters and paper-hangers take their place. In selecting your

paper-hangings, keep in view these considerations. If the ceiling is

low, oak paper, or any dark paper, will make it apparently lower still;

or if a room be defectively lighted, a dark shade aggravates the evil.

Papers of large designs are unsuited for a small room, making it look

smaller; and, generally, papers with a variety of colors and showy

patterns are inconsistent with elegance. Striped papers are better

adapted for rooms with low ceilings. When you have pictures to hang on

the walls, floral devices in the paper are particularly unsuitable.

Paper of a uniform color, such as light or dark green, is admirably

adapted for pictures. The paint of doors and windows should harmonize

with the _paper-hangings_.”

XXXV.

VISITING FOR ONE’S OWN CONVENIENCE.

THERE are very few housekeepers in cities or large towns who will not,

at the first glance, understand precisely what this means; and, however

many may have been tempted to indulge in this style of visiting, and

perhaps often yielded to the temptation, there will be none found,

we venture to say, who will not heartily protest against it, when

practised upon themselves.

We have before us a letter from a lady on this subject, and think we

cannot do better than to transcribe part of it for the benefit of our

young friends, as it presents the subject in a clear and very forcible

manner:--

“Do not, by any means, imagine that I would say a word against friendly

visits, for mutual enjoyment and the cultivation of true friendship. I

gladly welcome to my house all who come to _see me_, and delight to do

them honor in every way hospitality can suggest. My friends are sure of

a cordial welcome at all times, and I never make a visit I do not wish

returned. So much by way of parenthesis.

“Now for a statement of grievances. It is my misfortune (or fortune) to

have been brought up in a rural town, about thirty miles from the city

where I have resided since my marriage, five years ago. I am a young

housekeeper, not yet of sufficient experience to take matters as easily

as older and more experienced matrons can, and therefore am more easily

disturbed by untoward events.

“The people living in my native town and thereabouts, who are in the

least acquainted with me or my husband, find it vastly convenient,

when they come to the city, once or twice a year, or oftener, to

shop, do errands of various kinds, or attend conventions,--of which

we have legions,--to come directly to my house, with all the freedom

of brothers and sisters, and stay till their mission to the city,

whatever it may be, is accomplished, with no thought or inquiry of how

it may conflict with my plans and convenience, or whether my health

is sufficient to enable me to bear the addition to my work. And still

worse, they never give any notice of their coming; but arrive, perhaps,

in the noon train, just as I am dishing up dinner for my small family,

with their strong country appetites, whetted by their morning ride, and

expect a good dinner and a hearty welcome. If it were only one or two

who take such liberties, I would not mind it; but as one after another

makes my house their hotel, it becomes a weariness to the flesh. Nor is

this all. The hardest and most annoying of all is to have a woman come

bringing a young child, and remain till she has made her purchases for

a large family. This of course takes two or more days. The child is

left in my care, while the mother is only in the house at meal-times.

The child is home-sick, lonely, and fretful, and completely wears me

out, mentally and bodily; and I have no means of redress. When the

mother leaves, she says, ‘Now come and make me a visit,’ well knowing

that I never will.

“I might speak of the annoyance of rising two hours earlier than usual

to get breakfast in season for an early morning train; but I forbear,

hoping you will help those who suffer from this cruel and heartless

practice.”

This victim of a selfish and heartless custom has so well portrayed

the annoyances that spring naturally from it, that few words of ours

are needed. But, in justice to the writer, we must assure our readers

that this is no fancy sketch; the half of what the landladies of these

gratuitous hotels are called upon--no, compelled--to endure has not

been told. Happy, if when sick, without help, or unable to afford to

keep any, they do not find it necessary to furnish two or three extra

meals, at different parts of the day, after the family have been fed,

the table and dishes all cleansed, and the weary provider has just sat

down to that large basket of long-delayed mending. Long delayed! And

why? Because the time and strength which might have been given to that

work have been frittered away for those who have no legitimate claim

upon either, and who, perhaps, taking notes of everything which their

presence compels the lady of the house to neglect, go away and requite

her hospitality by criticising her housekeeping and remarking upon her

inefficiency! Or it may be, these long-suffering ladies are rung up at

midnight to receive unscrupulous and untimely guests; or, instead of

one child to look after, they are expected to act as nurse to three or

four. We have tried and known it all, and confess _we don’t like it_.

Aside from the fatigue and inconvenience, the pecuniary tax is often

much heavier than the poor victim can afford to pay. We think the

meanest kind of pilfering is that practised by self-constituted guests.

We would ride, in the darkest night, over the roughest corduroy

roads ever seen at the West in her earliest days, until we found a

_log-tavern_, on the edge of a “clearing,” with no private room, no

eatable food, and a bed already fully inhabited, before we would thus

trespass on any one upon whom we had not strong claims of hearty love

or relationship, and especially without warning. And one who has ever

tried this alternative, will acknowledge that we could not well express

our abhorrence of the practice of “visiting for one’s own convenience”

more forcibly.

Look at it on the score of the host’s convenience. Even with an

abundant income, an ample supply of well-trained servants, every

housekeeper knows that one is liable to have on the table what may be

sufficient for “the family,”--the last of the bread, and only enough

meat. The new bread may be almost ready for the oven, but not for the

table. The butcher may have been delayed, or forgotten your order, and

you have no more supplies on hand. Who does not know the anxiety and

annoyance of “improvising” a dinner for unexpected guests, when the

larder is not well filled? (By the way, dear young housekeeper, keep

watch that you are not often caught with short “rations.”) Then, you

often have engagements that demand your attention immediately after you

have finished your dinner, and failing to meet such engagements may

cause you much trouble, and subject you to very great annoyance. And

for whom must you allow all these arrangements, connected with your own

or your family’s interests, to be deranged? For almost a stranger,--a

mere passing acquaintance, in nowise congenial, who finds your house

more pleasant and convenient, and certainly more _economical_, than a

public hotel. There are mischievous, roguish boys in most families,

who have a very emphatic nomenclature of their own by which they would

designate such liberties; but as we very gravely rebuke all “slang”

phrases in our own family, we dare not venture to use their terms,

however appropriate, and can simply say, that it is the coolest and

most unpardonable kind of unwarrantable familiarity.

There is another trouble connected with _convenient and economical

visiting_, which our friend has not noticed. We trust she has never

experienced it. We have, many times; and in former years, with young

children to care for, it was the hardest to bear of all the vexations

caused by these unwelcome guests. We refer to the disturbance and

dissatisfaction which such unexpected increase of labor causes among

our servants. If these visits are not like those of the angels, “few

and far between,” (and such _hotels_, once found, are not often

left quiet,) your “help” will be very likely to appear before you,

carpet-bag in hand, saying, “Please, mem, I must leave you; I did

not hire out to a _boarding-house_.” Ah, what blessed independence!

They can give notice to leave, but you cannot. You cannot quit your

post, but must stay by, and silently endure. So custom ordains. But

if custom enacts unjust laws, lays upon weary shoulders heavy burdens

most grievous to be borne, is not a revolt justifiable? We think it is,

and, in mercy to patient workers, the sooner it begins and the more

unflinchingly it is sustained the better.

When those who have no claim upon your time or your affections take

such liberties, besieging you in your home, we think it not at all

reprehensible or discourteous to say, frankly, with unmistakable

plainness, that it is inconvenient or quite impossible for you to

accommodate or entertain them. Be as kind and gentle as you can, but

be firm. They have no claim upon you; let it be well understood that

you recognize none, and mean to act accordingly. If you accept the

intrusion, without protest, you will but rivet your bonds; and while

you find them growing stronger and more galling every year, you will

also find that your power to resist and break the chains becomes

weaker. Your submission to such imposition and oppression will be well

noised abroad, and you will find yourself at the mercy of many a chance

customer.

To such as come to you in love and for love’s sake, let your doors

swing wide open. Intercourse between friends and relatives is another

and very different thing. It is giving and receiving, and the pleasure

makes the labor light. But to all who use your house for their own

selfish convenience, lock the door and drop the key in your pocket.

XXXVI.

WILL THEY BOARD, OR KEEP HOUSE?

WE think it is considered allowable to criticise and gossip about

household matters _generally_, so that we don’t intrench on anybody

in _particular_. But to avoid meddling was a doctrine so thoroughly

inculcated in our youth, that in our talk with young housekeepers we

have found ourselves shrinking from touching upon many little mistakes

that need rectifying, or topics that will bear discussion, forgetting

that we are really not prying into private family matters. Yet, thanks

to many letters of inquiry from unknown friends, which give us license

and courage to take up prevailing modes or ideas and suggest what we

think a better way, we shall go on, and perhaps be considered a meddler

after all!

When young people marry, the first question asked is, “Will they

board, or keep house?” And the reasons for or against keeping house

show a very great variety of opinions. We hear this question so often,

and see, with pain, how poorly prepared, through the reprehensible

indulgence of their mothers, many of the young ladies of the present

day are for the performance or superintendence of home cares and

duties, that, having waited for some explicit inquiries on the subject,

we now propose to embody, in an imaginary letter, some of the anxieties

and distress which this same indulgence stores up for the tenderly

reared daughters. We will suppose that one of these young ladies writes

us as follows:--

“I know that you generally advise young people to go to housekeeping,

instead of boarding. That may be the best way for most, and of late I

am inclined to think it is; but I am peculiarly situated. I wonder if

you can understand how very hard it must be, how almost impossible,

for a young lady who has lived twenty years without any cares, who has

always seen an abundance of everything,--never knowing or thinking

that economy was or could be necessary,--to undertake the care of a

house, under circumstances which will make it desirable that the work,

if not done by her own hands, should be wholly under her constant

supervision. What sort of a housekeeper would you expect her to make?

I have just learned that my parents are not able, now, to start me in

life as elegantly as I have always been brought up to expect. In a few

weeks I shall be united to one, not rich, but I think well worthy of

any sacrifice or hardship. He earnestly desires me to consent to begin

housekeeping as soon as we are married. I don’t want to, because I am

sure boarding will be wiser and safer than my unskillful housekeeping.

But my friend says, if I will consent, he will be patient with my

short-comings and mistakes, and will work enough harder to make up

for all I waste while learning. Poor fellow! he little dreams what an

ignoramus he is about to risk his comfort and perhaps happiness with.

Why, I know absolutely nothing of what I am just beginning to feel

is of the greatest importance, if we would secure a happy union. To

be sure, I can sing and dance well, so partial friends say. I paint

with skill and accuracy sufficient at least to amuse myself and while

away such time as would otherwise drag heavily during a rainy day, and

am quite skillful with my needle when I use it for fancy work; but

when it comes to useful, necessary work, I am as helpless and useless

as a child. Ah, if my dear parents had lavished half the money to

teach me household mysteries that was expended to make me _thoroughly

accomplished_, in the fashionable sense of that term, how happy I

should now be and how bright the future would appear! I have good

health, and, if I only knew how to do anything, would shrink from no

hardship; but I honestly know nothing useful. And this foolish lover

of mine talks about being patient with my mistakes until I learn to

keep house! Alas, it will take years to teach me so that I can see my

way through this fog and tangle of ignorance. I shall be an old woman,

bent and gray, before I understand the first principles of household

economy. Will he bear with me through all the vexatious blunders I

shall make while learning, and be patient if, after years of trial, he

finds I am but an awkward and unskillful worker still?”

Yes, if this young man is worthy of your love, he will value the

efforts you make, and sympathize with you when you find the results

unsatisfactory. If he would have your praiseworthy struggles to make

the home attractive successful, he must not look back to the “leeks and

onions of Egypt,” but accept the journey through the wilderness with

cheerfulness, and be lovingly grateful if the “manna” falls at first

but seldom. Many a young, inexperienced wife has had all her efforts

paralyzed, because her husband was so often murmuring about _his

mother’s bread and pies and gingerbread_. That is cruel and unmanly.

Now, in the first place, let us say to every young couple, _Go to

housekeeping by all means_. However awkward or unskillful you may be,

or however small and simple must be your habitation, do not let the

first years of married life be passed in a boarding-house. It is no

place to learn each other’s character, to become accustomed to the

peculiarities that belong to every one; it is no place to accept as

_home_.

If you are not able to employ servants while you two, who have just

been made one, are the only occupants of your new home, happy are ye.

In this early stage of married life, to venture on boarding, or risk

the tyranny of servants, is to deprive yourselves of the sweetest

experiences of a true home. No matter how heavy or how light your purse

may be, if you are wise, commence small. If young people assume the

cares of a large mansion, and with it, of necessity, the supervision

of a number of servants, they will soon become disheartened, and vote

housekeeping wretched work. But in a small house, before “olive plants”

cluster around to tell you that

“The cottage is too small,

And the table wanteth space,”

you become accustomed to the care, and so well versed in all the

minutest details of home labor, that you will scarcely feel the

additional tax on your energies, either of the olive branches or a

larger house, and the additional care of servants, which will, of

necessity, come with a more imposing residence.

Then, as to the shrinking from venturing into the new and untried

household domains, which young ladies so naturally feel who know

absolutely nothing but the “accomplishments” taught in schools, we

would say, for your encouragement, that the road to such knowledge

as will enable you to form some correct idea of the work which lies

before you is not so long or so difficult as your fears have led you to

imagine. With a willing heart, with hands made quick and skillful by

love, the way will soon become easy and pleasant. If possible, employ

much of the few last weeks before your marriage in making yourself

familiar with the rudiments of household affairs. Read all you can

about it,--how your house should be arranged, what will be necessary

in each department. Learn all you can about marketing,--what articles

are most desirable, and during what seasons; seek how to judge of the

quality of the food you buy, and the honest price for it. These are

homely details, but the knowledge will be all needed, indeed it is

indispensable to perfect you in good management; but you will secure

the most effective knowledge, and the greatest confidence in your own

capacity, by going about the house, and, little by little, doing

with your own hands the work belonging to each department, under your

mother’s supervision, or that of a well-trained housekeeper. At first,

as it is all new work to you, it will not be easy or pleasant; but

repeat the trial, and with each attempt you will find that you are

acquiring skill and courage. Let there be no part of household labor

that you do not perform a few times yourself, until you are well

assured that you have sufficiently mastered it to do it again, or to

detect any mistake or blunder in a servant. If you must keep servants,

they will give you little comfort unless they see from the first--and

they are usually very quick to discern between an intelligent or

ignorant mistress--that you mean to overlook your work daily, and are

abundantly able to discover any deviation from the right track. But

above all things, unless for a year or two after marriage you can

have the privilege of discarding servants entirely, endeavor, before

marriage, to feel so much at ease in the kitchen, and so far mistress

of cooking, that you will be able easily to detect any failure, and

know the reason for it. If bread is brought to the table that is

not satisfactory, it is wise to be able to say to your cook, with

confidence, “Your bread should have risen longer before being put

into the oven. It is not exactly heavy; but it feels solid, and bites

tough.” Or, “Your bread is full of holes. You have not kneaded it

sufficiently.” Or, “Cook, we must return that barrel of flour. It is

not good. See how it ‘runs’ as you are kneading it. We shall have no

real good bread from such flour.” “The pastry was not nice to-day. You

have handled it too much, and it cuts as tough as leather. Please be

more careful about it.”

Thus, by spending an hour a day in your mother’s kitchen, taking an

active part in the work to be done there, and going through every

department in the same thorough manner, even one month will advance you

so that you can see the “silver lining” to all these clouds, and will

give you sufficient confidence in your own knowledge and power, to

banish all the mystery and dread. Then, when you walk with well-assured

steps, knowing that you have conquered so far, and can, of course,

conquer all, by patient endurance in well-doing, you will begin to

enjoy every step of progress you make. No matter if you are and will

be possessed of fabulous wealth, this knowledge should be secured by

every young lady. But should you begin with large or small means, in

either case your prospects of comfort and happiness are very insecure,

if you enter the married state unwilling to acquire that which every

woman should know,--the art of housekeeping. In after life, when home

cares may be less pressing, become lawyer, judge, or President, if you

can; but surely young women can find noble work, sufficient for all

their talents and energies, in laying the foundation of and securely

establishing a well-ordered and happy _home_.

XXXVII.

CHOICE OF COLORS IN DRESS.

BLONDES.

IN the selection of articles for dress, one should be guided, not only

by the quality of the fabric and durability of color, but also by

observing if the color will harmonize with the complexion of the wearer.

Nothing marks refinement and culture, or the want of it, more than the

combination of colors in one’s attire. It is folly to spend time and

thought upon the adorning of the body, to the exclusion of other and

more important matters; but it is always wise to do well whatever is to

be done, and to develop and perfect such gifts as God has bestowed,

either of body or mind, so as to make them as attractive and valuable

as possible. We hold it to be a duty to give such time and thought to

dress as will secure the largest amount of pleasure and gratification

to one’s family and friends. To labor to secure a prominent position,

to become a leader of fashion, is another and very different thing.

When seeking to impart pleasure to friends, we are influenced by love;

but when striving to be among the most fashionable, we cater to a

selfish vanity or a poor and low ambition.

Works on the combinations of color in dress divide complexions into

the “fair and ruddy blondes,” and the “pale and florid brunettes.” In

the fair blonde we find a delicate white skin; light hair, in all the

shades from a golden hue to yellow or orange-brown; light blue or gray

eyes; a slight tinge of rose on the cheek, and a richer tint on the

lips. In all such complexions the rose-color is not decided enough, and

the hair would be improved by a deeper hue; and these changes can be

made, in a good degree, by a suitable mingling of color in the dress.

One of the most favorable colors for the fair blonde is a _delicate

green_, as it imparts to the flesh-white of the skin a tint of red,

which, mingling with the natural hue, forms an agreeable rose-tint,--a

good contrast both to the face and hair, especially if the hair is

golden, inclining to orange.

The best colors to mingle with the green, as trimmings, are red,

orange, and gold. Green and gold form a rich harmony, peculiarly

becoming to the fair blonde. Scarlet, blended with green, harmonizes

better than red; but if red, inclining to crimson, is used, then orange

and gold must also be combined with it. There are some shades of green

that are not becoming, unless blended with and enlivened by other

harmonious colors. A green bonnet, with rose-color and white, with a

white feather, will always be becoming for this complexion. Be careful

that too much white is not used, else it will have a cold effect, and

therefore will not aid the fair complexion so much. Orange or gold may

be substituted for the pink or rose; also red, in a small bonnet, but

neither should be placed close to the face. Orange, in a green bonnet,

in small quantities, is becoming, if the wearer’s eyes are blue. A few

autumnal shades of red, orange, or yellow-green are also in harmony

with the fair complexion; but dark green is not at all desirable.

Blue is very suitable, giving an orange tint, which harmonizes finely

with the delicate white and flesh hues of the complexion. There is

always a natural trace of orange color on the skin, and this color, by

intensifying this natural tint, is very pleasing; but the blue must be

light, and not too positive. Blue being the perfect contrast of orange,

it agrees finely with golden or orange-brown hair. This is the reason

that light blue head-dresses are so very becoming on light hair. To

give a good effect to blue by gas-light, a little white or very pale

blue is necessary to be in contrast or very near the face. If there

are green leaves with the blue flowers of a head-dress, they should be

placed as near the face as possible.

White, black, a very little yellow, orange, straw, or stone color, may

either of them be used in the trimmings of a light blue bonnet with

good effects; but not if there are pink or purple flowers on it, as

these colors mingled with blue are unsuitable. The colors to be used

carefully or avoided altogether, with fair complexions, are yellow,

orange, red, and purple. The light shades of lilac may be sometimes

used; but it is very trying, and must always, if used, be separated

from the flesh by an edging of tulle or some similar trimming, or be

associated with its harmonizing colors, cherry, scarlet, light crimson,

or gold color, and then they will in part overcome the bad effects; but

green and lilac should never be coupled, as it will form a positive

discord. A very little light purple is agreeable for a head-dress on

light hair, but must be placed near the skin.

Neutral colors, if not too dark, accord well with fair blondes; gray,

fawn, drab, and some few shades of brown are the best. Black is good

for the fair blonde who has some healthy color, because it increases

the _rose_ in the complexion; but it is bad for pale skins, as it

bleaches them by the painful contrast. No delicate color can be blended

with black without seeming of a _lighter tone_. Unless used for

mourning, black must be mingled with either blue, cherry, mulberry,

drab, or lilac, to remove the somber effects; but cherry and lilac must

be used sparingly. Red must not be used at all with black for fair

blondes, as it gives a rusty tinge. White is suitable with black, if

some other color is added; otherwise it is too cold. A black bonnet

looks well with a fair complexion, but a little white and rose-color

should be added, keeping the rose away from the skin. White is pleasant

for all complexions, but more so with the fair blonde who has some

color than for any other. Bright colors with white bonnet may be added,

but must be kept low, and well grouped. White increases the paleness

of a pale skin, but this effect may be neutralized by a blue or green

wreath brought well on the face.

The _ruddy blonde_ has a full-toned complexion, inclining to positive

rose-red or carnation; dark blue or brown eyes, blonde and brown

hair. All the colors suitable for the fair are generally suitable for

the ruddy blonde, but the tones and in some cases the hues must be

changed. As a rule this type may use more freedom in the selection of

colors than the fair; her complexion, not being so delicate, is less

sensitive. The hair being the medium between gold and black, and the

complexion higher toned and more positive, rich and moderately dark

colors may be used.

Green is very becoming, but it must be of the darker shades, and not

the delicate green that is so becoming for the fair blonde. If the

complexion is light and can use more red, without being overcharged,

rich, full-toned green, such as grass or moss green, may be used, as,

although sufficiently bright to yield color to the skin, it is not so

powerful a contrast as to bleach it. In proportion as the complexion

increases in color a deeper green may be selected, passing from the

positive to the neutral hues, as sage, tea, or olive green. These

deep, neutral greens do not cast much red, while they both harmonize

with and reduce the natural hue. A simple rule for the ruddy blonde

is, the paler her complexion the brighter must be the green she

wears, the _rosier_ the cheek the deeper and more neutral must be

the green. For the high-toned blonde the green may be neutralized by

mingling rose, scarlet, orange, or white flowers. If on the inside of

a bonnet, the colored flowers must be surrounded with some gray or

semi-transparent material to keep from contrast with the skin. On the

outside dead-green or autumnal leaves, with a few flowers of orange

or scarlet, are selected. Rose-colored flowers harmonize better with

bright yellow-green than with dead-green leaves.

_Blue_ also is suitable, but it follows the same rules as _green_:

it must be deeper and richer for the ruddy blonde than for the fair.

The best colors to associate with the rich blues are orange, salmon,

and chocolate; white and black also harmonize with blue. Bonnets and

head-dresses, and wreaths of blue, need the same colors blended as

for the fair blonde, only of a deeper tint, and all colors pointed

out as injurious by the one type must be avoided by the other. The

most difficult color to introduce in any dress is _violet_; its effect

on all complexions being so unsatisfactory. All skins appear yellow

when in contrast with it, and look sickly and disagreeable. A large

proportion of yellow is needed to reduce and neutralize the effects

of violet. It becomes positively lost in artificial light, and should

never be used or introduced into an evening dress.

Neutral colors are mostly suitable for the ruddy blonde; when light

they increase the color, when dark they reduce it by contrast. Russet,

gray, slate, maroon, and all shades of brown are the most pleasing of

the _dark_ neutrals, and gray, drab, fawn, and stone color, the most

desirable of the _light_ neutrals.

XXXVIII.

HARMONIZING COLORS IN DRESS.

BRUNETTES.

IN the last chapter we noticed the colors most appropriate and

harmonious for the _fair_ and the _ruddy blonde_. We shall now note a

few peculiarities of the _pale_ and the _florid brunette_.

In the _pale brunette_, the eyes and hair are usually a deep brown or

brown-black, and the skin pale, often with some sallow shade. With this

peculiar complexion, light or very dark colors are the most becoming,

because the light colors harmonize with the tint of the skin, and the

dark colors with the hue of the hair and eyes. Thus we follow Nature’s

coloring, and sustain her effective contrasts. When the colors of the

dress are a medium between the skin and hair and eyes, they “reduce the

expression, and injure or destroy the greatest charm.”

_Black_ being similar to the color of eyes and hair, and a perfect

contrast to the complexion, increases the purity of the natural tints,

and is very suitable for the pale brunette. All the shades of dark

brown being similar to the hair and eyes, are also appropriate. Claret,

dark russet, and crimson are not unsuitable, but less desirable and

becoming than black or brown.

Positive blue, green, or purple must not be used; but dark blue, green,

or violet may be accepted, provided the complexion has no shade of

yellow or sallowness. If there is, these colors must all be avoided.

_White_, being analogous to the hue of the skin, is very desirable,

enhancing the richness of the eyes and hair, and, as it receives a

yellow tint from artificial light, is particularly desirable for an

evening dress for the pale brunette. Yellow and white united are also

becoming in the evening for this class of complexion, but become dull

by daylight, and very undesirable. Gold or maize color contrasts

pleasantly with black or dark brown eyes and hair, and neutralizes any

disagreeable sallowness that there may be in the skin.

The _florid brunette_ often inclines to the olive complexion, and, in

many cases, to the copper-colored, or subdued yellow, or orange-brown,

with more positive red on lip and cheek than in the blonde types. The

eyes are black, the hair jet or blue-black. The tones yellow, orange,

and red predominate in the florid brunette, and harmonize together by

_analogy_ or _similarity_; but they also harmonize with the black hair

and eyes, by _contrast_; therefore great care and good judgment should

be exercised, lest this agreeable group of harmonizing tints should

be weakened or destroyed by the use of objectionable colors. On the

other hand, it is desirable to seek to neutralize any unpleasant tone

in the complexion, caused by too much yellow, which will otherwise

give a sallow and unhealthy tinge to the skin. Yellow, maize, or gold

color will effect this; because, while they contrast favorably with the

color of the hair and eyes, intensifying their richness by the purple

tint which this combination forms, they also harmonize, by analogy,

with the tints of the complexion, and at the same time sufficiently

neutralize any excess of yellow that these tints may exhibit. When the

skin shows more orange than yellow, maize or yellow in the dress will

enrich the complexion by the increase of red which these colors will

develop.

A _yellow bonnet_ is very becoming to the florid brunette; but as

it is worn near and surrounds the face, much of its effects must be

neutralized by introducing violet, purple, or deep blue as trimmings;

they must not come in contact with the face, however, and should be

used very sparingly.

Orange is too brilliant and gaudy to be used in dress, except in very

small quantities, and the same rule holds good of red, scarlet, bright

crimson, magenta, and all brilliant colors of the like class; they,

with orange, are suited to some complexions where it is advantageous

to neutralize, but they are too bright for general costume. A scarlet

head-dress is becoming with dark hair, intensifying it by contrast, and

by the purple shade which it adds when worn near black. Dark red, also,

is suitable for complexions that have too much red on the cheeks or

lips, neutralizing the color of the skin, and reducing it by contrast.

Violet is not agreeable, unless its bad effects are controlled or

counteracted by the addition of yellow; but the dark shades of violet

are less objectionable than the positive color. A violet bonnet

may be used with this type of complexion, if trimmed with pale

yellow,--primroses, for instance; the flowers being a good contrast to

the violet bonnet, and harmonizing well with the skin.

A black bonnet is not as becoming for the brunette as for the blonde;

but by using white, red, orange, or yellow trimmings, it is quite

pleasing. It enhances the red by reducing the lighter tints of the

skin, but it has no power to neutralize any objectionable tint that may

exist. White is more favorable than black, and accords well with this

complexion. A white bonnet is suitable, if trimmed with red, orange,

or yellow; but the yellow should be mingled with white only for evening

wear.

In grouping color with color, nothing is more common than to see

discordant tints placed together,--purple and green, for instance; and

however rich the material or beautiful the wearer, such incongruity

is exceedingly distasteful. In arranging colors, it should be borne

in mind that there are two kinds of harmony,--the harmony of contrast

and the harmony of analogy. When two dissimilar colors are blended

agreeably, such as blue and orange, or lilac and cherry, they form

a harmony of contrast. Two distant tones of one color, such as very

light and very dark blue, associated, harmonize by contrast; but

in this latter instance, the harmony is neither so striking nor so

perfect. When similar colors, such as orange and scarlet, crimson and

crimson-brown, are grouped together, they form a harmony of analogy;

and if two or more shades of color, closely approximating in intensity,

are associated, they harmonize by analogy.

Harmonies of contrast are more effective, but not more important, than

those of analogy. The former are brilliant and decisive, the latter

quiet and undemonstrative. Both hold equal positions in matters of

dress, and in arranging the colors of the costume be careful to choose

the proper species of harmony.

There are two rules to be observed: first, associate with colors

favorable to the complexion tints that will harmonize by analogy or

similarity, because contrasting colors would diminish and injure its

favorable effect; second, if the color selected for the dress is

injurious to the complexion, then contrasting color must be associated

with it, to neutralize its objectionable influence.

There is much more to be said on the selection of colors for dress,

but we must not trespass longer. We hope that, by our having thus

called attention to this subject, our readers may find it sufficiently

interesting to become familiar with the rules given, and carry the

lessons it may have taught into practical use.

We are very largely indebted to “A Manual for Ladies,” by W. and G.

Audsley, for much of the information grouped in this and the preceding

article.

XXXIX.

A WORD ABOUT MOTHS.

“MOTHS in the winter! Pray don’t speak of them! Some weeks later

will be time enough to stir up our minds by way of remembrance. The

vexatious little torments! they surely don’t work in winter! And yet I

have noticed several little spots, or holes, that looked as if eaten

by moths. I am sure they were not there early in the fall: I couldn’t

understand it, but was so confident that moths did not do their

mischief in winter, that I have been trying to find some other cause

for these marks.”

Ah! there was where you were mistaken. There are two kinds of

moths,--one a large silver-colored fly; its worm is shaped somewhat

like those found in chestnuts. The other was first noticed some

eight or ten years since, by the upholsterers. It is smaller, of a

brown or dark drab color. It is governed by no times or seasons, but

works steadily on, summer and winter. The heat of our city homes or

furnace-heated country-houses may promote this uninterrupted activity.

The moth or fly, it is said, finds its way into a sofa or chair between

the back or seat under the lining, where, among the springs, it finds

a safe and convenient hiding-place. They will often secure a home in

these secret places within a week of the time that furniture, right

from the cabinet-maker’s, has been brought into the house. If they do,

they are so enormously prolific that in a month or two they can be

numbered by thousands. We cannot but think that when, in a carefully

kept house, these moths are found in new furniture, they must have been

first introduced through poorly prepared hair or material with which

the article was upholstered or the hair, having been wet, was used

before it was carefully dried. This theory may be only an imagination

of our own but every year’s experience confirms the idea,--upholsterers

to the contrary notwithstanding.

It is said that these moths will not eat pure curled hair, but only use

it to fasten their cocoons upon, as being secure from any disturbance,

through the elasticity of the hair. They use the inside of furniture

only for propagation, and here at the same time may be found the fly,

the worms, and the eggs. From this concealment the worm escapes, to

feed on the plush or woolen materials, or, falling to the floor, feeds

on the carpet. Plush being made with cotton back generally, they seldom

eat through that, though they do sometimes cut through the muslin

backs of sofas, etc. Little protection may be hoped for from the use

of cayenne pepper, Scotch snuff, camphor, turpentine, or all other

remedies against the large moth. Continual watchfulness is the only

safety.

At least once a week the furniture should be moved away from the

walls into the middle of the room and well brushed and beaten with a

“furniture whip” or braided ratans. After brushing carefully all around

the buttons with a furniture button-brush, pull up the material which

will lie in loose folds or pleats about the buttons, and hold them

up with one hand while you brush off all lint or dust that may have

settled in these folds. These are nice little hiding-places for the

worm, and must be looked after. As fast as each piece of furniture has

been faithfully brushed and whipped, set it into the next room and keep

the doors closed.

While cleaning, turn each chair or sofa bottom-side upward and beat the

backs and under part of the seats, to dislodge any that may have found

shelter inside. When the furniture has received all needed attention,

and is removed from the room, give the carpet a thorough cleansing by

going over it with a “carpet-sweeper.” Nothing so effectually gathers

up the worms or eggs, and the carpet is less worn than when swept with

a broom. Of course, in the corners and around the edges, where the

“carpet-sweeper” cannot work, you must use a small whisk-broom and

dust-pan, and this must be done before going over the main part of the

carpet.

In using a “sweeper” be careful to empty it once or twice while going

over a large room, pulling out all the strings and hair that may, when

gathered up, have twisted around the axle of the circular brush inside

the box. If not removed, it will soon obstruct the motion, and its

operation be ineffectual. In using a “carpet-sweeper” have everything

out of the way of the machine, that you may have a clear surface across

the whole length of the room, if possible; hold the handle up nearly

straight, so as to bring all the brush underneath in contact with the

carpet; press down, and with a firm hand run over the breadth from one

end of the room to the other, going by the seam or thread, lengthwise.

When at the farther end lift up the box so that it will not touch the

carpet, and, turning round, proceed till the whole length of the carpet

has been swept; then begin widthwise and proceed in the same manner,

only be careful to run straight. If the “sweeper” is turned round while

resting on the floor, the dirt is apt to drop out in rolls by the

process of turning. It requires a little experience and good judgment

to use a “carpet-sweeper” judiciously; but once understand it and you

will not willingly be without one. When this work is done, empty all

the dirt from the “sweeper” and comb the rolling-brush with a coarse or

“fringe-comb.”

But to return to the moths. If they get inside your furniture, they

may be destroyed by taking off the muslin under the seats, the outside

ends, and the backs, where they most naturally seek privacy. If this

must be done, take each piece out to the yard or on a back veranda,

after you have removed the lining; spread down an old sheet and set the

furniture on it, and beat with a stick to dislodge the moths. Watch for

the flies and worms that you have routed, and kill them as fast as they

are seen. If you do not succeed in killing all of them, by a repetition

of this operation a few times they will be disturbed and leave the

furniture, as they seek to be left in quiet. If they attack the carpet

they generally begin under the sofas and chairs or on the edges of the

carpet in the corners of the room. In this case, as soon as you find

the first intimation of their ill-omened presence, spread a wet sheet

on the carpet, and pass a hot flat-iron over quickly; keep a number of

irons heating and change often. The heat and steam will destroy both

worm and egg.

But do not let this success beguile you into any remissness. They can

“creep slyly through a tiny space,” and in a few weeks, if they find

you sleeping on your post, will effect an entrance, and will have

increased and multiplied until the last state of that furniture will be

worse than the first.

XL.

WINTER BUTTER.

MUCH has been said and written on making winter butter. Our papers

bring daily complaints of the article as sold in our markets, and

furnish us with many elaborate directions how to overcome an evil which

can no longer be meekly endured.

In large butter factories, with every facility for preserving uniform

temperature, it is not easy to accept any excuse for poor butter,

summer or winter; but when butter is only made in small quantities,

simply for family consumption, and at a time when the cows are giving

much less milk than in the summer and fall, there is a necessity for

more care and labor in securing good butter than when we can furnish

green pastures and fresh food for the cows. Still we all expect, and

should be willing to accept, more discomforts in our winter’s labors

than we find in warm weather. Aside from these considerations we fail

to see any insurmountable difficulty in securing good sweet butter in

the winter. Of course we do not look for yellow butter at this season

of the year, and when we see it we distrust its purity; but the golden

color, though desirable, as a pleasure to the eye, is not an essential.

For years we made a large portion of our own butter from only one cow,

with but a few conveniences, and with very limited accommodations to

aid us in the work; but we never had _bitter_ butter, and have never

found a good reason why any one should be compelled to suffer from that

infliction.

In the first place, a great deal depends on having pure, clear milk

to start with, and to secure that we think a warm, clean shelter and

good food should be provided for the animals. Aside from good hay, free

from mustiness, they should have as large a supply of roots--beets,

pumpkins, carrots, or potatoes, whichever is the most convenient,

or some of all--as you can furnish; but whatever is given should be

entirely free from decay, if you would have a healthy cow and pure milk.

The milk will receive no unnatural flavor from any or all of these

roots; but no skill can conceal the use of cabbages or turnips, however

small the quantity. We know many affirm that they invariably give them

to their milch cows and perceive no disagreeable taste in the milk from

their use. Judging from much of the butter found in our markets, we

can easily believe that cabbages and turnips were lavishly fed to the

cows from whose milk the butter was made; and how any one can fail to

notice the unpleasant flavor given by such food we cannot understand.

Still, we will not quarrel with those who choose to use these esculents

so long as our cows are not fed with them and we are not obliged to eat

the butter.

Warm food, at least once a day, is not only good for the animal, but

insures a better quality and larger quantity of milk and butter. It

is very little trouble to put a large kettle over the stove or range

early in the morning, and boil such small potatoes as are not nice for

table use, or a few carrots, together with all the parings of potatoes

or the rind of pumpkins left from cooking. When they have become soft,

mash with a long-handled masher, such as any boy of ten has sufficient

skill to make; then thicken the water in which they were boiled with a

few handfuls of “shorts” or coarse barley or oatmeal; corn meal will

decrease the quantity of milk and fatten the cow. Give your cows a

generous feed of this _mush_ once a day at least, and they will amply

repay your care by increasing and enriching the supply of milk.

With your cows thus fed, kept dry and warm, well cleaned and

curried,--for a cow needs that care as much as a horse,--you will have

good milk, and from it cream which, with proper care, can be as readily

made into _good_ butter in winter as in summer.

Now as to “proper care,” we speak only of private families who have

but one or two cows. If your milk-room is in the cellar, it should be

entirely separated from the vegetable cellar, and used for nothing

that can impart any flavor to the milk, either meats, roots, sauces,

or fluids. If it is well cemented and banked up, so as to prevent

freezing, you will have very little trouble in keeping the milk warm

enough for the cream to begin to rise quickly. Of course you will pour

boiling water into the pans, and have them well heated before straining

the milk into them. If you have on hand two sizes of pans, fill the

larger one third full of boiling water, then strain the milk into a

smaller pan, filling it not half full, and set it into the hot water;

turn another pan over the top, but not close enough to exclude all air.

By so doing you will find that the cream will rise more rapidly and can

be more easily churned. When one has but little milk, this is not much

trouble.

If you have no cellar that can be kept warm and free from the smell

of vegetables, set your milk on a shelf, in a warm closet, where, of

course, you will keep no vegetables or meats, as nothing is so easily

impregnated with odors of all kinds as milk. Cover the pans or bowls

with a fine net, to exclude dust or motes of any kind.

Thirty-six hours is as long as milk should remain unskimmed, summer or

winter. Every hour longer, even though the milk may taste sweet, is

insuring bitter butter. As you skim off the cream, stir it well each

time. The cream should not be in the cream-pot longer than two days

before churning. Three days _may_ give you moderately good butter, but

it is a very doubtful experiment.

“But how can we churn every two days when we do not gather more than a

quart of cream in that time? It would be lost in our churn; we could do

nothing with it.”

Take it into a large bowl, and beat or stir it steadily with a silver

or wooden spoon. It will take you no longer than to churn in the

regular manner, and you will secure a nice roll of sweet butter. But

a better, because an easier and more convenient way, is to buy a tall

one-gallon stone jar, and get a carpenter to turn you a handle; put

on two cross-pieces at the bottom, full of holes; or a circle small

enough to go into the jar; pierce this circle with holes as large as a

thimble; another circle for a cover, just to fit the top of the jar,

with a hole in the center that will slip over the handle, and you

have a nice churn, dasher and all. Now put on your large apron, lay a

book on the table before you, take your little churn in your lap or

on a bench by your side, and read, churn, and rock the cradle if need

be (reading and rocking the cradle are not essential, but are very

pleasant additions). In fifteen minutes’ steady churning you will find

the butter has come, and can be brought together in this tiny churn as

nicely as you can desire. If you can’t get at a carpenter, ask your

husband or son to do it; or, failing there, haven’t you mechanical

skill sufficient to make a dasher and fit it to a stone jar yourself?

A piece of a broom-stick, scoured and polished with sand-paper (or

if you have no sand-paper scrape it clean and smooth with a bit of

glass); two cross-pieces full of holes, screwed on to the bottom of the

stick; a round piece fitted into the top of the jar for cover,--you

can _whittle_ it smooth, can you not?--with a hole for the handle to

pass through, and you have just as serviceable a churn as any carpenter

could make you, only, perhaps, lacking a little in the finish a

carpenter might have given.

Now, as to the working of the butter: some say, wash it faithfully;

others insist that no water should come in contact with the butter.

If you have strength and skill enough to work out all the buttermilk

with a ladle, or a hand cool and firm enough to toss it from one hand

to the other, giving quick, skillful blows as it passes, so that every

drop of buttermilk may be beaten out, then we say, _never wash the

butter_. But although you do, and by washing must lose some of the rich

flavor our mother’s butter used to have, before there were any “modern

improvements,” still, better so than not secure entire freedom from

buttermilk. If any remains, you cannot have butter that will keep sweet

one week.

Take the butter from the churn into a wooden bowl that has been well

scalded, and then soaked and cooled in cold water, and with the ladle

press out all the buttermilk you can; this done, throw a handful of

salt into three or four quarts of cold water, and wash the butter

quickly and thoroughly with it; the salt causes the buttermilk to flow

off more readily; pour off the salt-water, and wash again with clear

cold water till it runs clear, drain off and sprinkle over the butter

what salt it requires to suit your own taste. There is such a variety

of tastes, that the exact quantity of salt cannot be easily given. We

use a table-spoonful of salt to a pound of butter. Press the butter

into a compact form, after working in the salt, cover over with a clean

cloth, and set it away to harden. The next morning break up and work

it over once more; make into neat rolls or prints, put it into a stone

pot, and cover with brine strong enough to bear up an egg. Try this and

see if you cannot have good butter in winter.

XLI.

REPAIRS.

“The mother, wi’ her needle an’ her shears,

Gars auld claes look amaist as weel’s the new.”

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.