Another great mistake is the exclusion of sunlight from our houses.

We have spoken of this some time since, and wish the importance of

admitting the light of the sun freely, as well as building these early

and late fires, could be properly impressed upon our housekeepers.

No article of furniture should ever be brought to our homes too good

or too delicate for the sun to see all day long. His presence should

never be excluded, except when so bright as to be uncomfortable to

the eyes. And a walk in good, bright sunlight, before the heat is too

intense, is very beneficial, so that the eyes are protected by veil or

parasol when the light is inconveniently strong. A _sun-bath_ is of

far more importance in preserving a healthful condition of the body

than is generally understood. A sun-bath costs nothing, and that is a

misfortune, for people are deluded with the idea that those things only

can be good or useful which cost money. But remember that pure water,

fresh air, sunlight, and homes kept free from dampness, will secure you

from many heavy bills of the doctors, and give you health and vigor,

which no money can procure. It is a well-established fact that people

who live much in the sun are usually stronger and more healthy than

those whose occupations deprive them of sunlight.

XLVII.

STUDY TO MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE.

IN planning and furnishing a house, young people too often sacrifice

true taste and their own conscience for _style_; forgetting that they

should arrange a home for _comfort_, not for a temple of fashion.

So large a portion of the money set apart for the whole outlay is

expended in adorning their parlors,--the only part of a house which

is, in a measure, public property,--that they are compelled to cheat

themselves out of much comfort and convenience, when they come to the

furnishing of the real home, or family rooms, unless possessed of

wealth so abundant that expense becomes a secondary consideration. We

think the family sitting and dining rooms should receive more thought

and care than any other part of the house. Neatness, of course, should

be preserved everywhere, and the parlors be furnished with as much of

style and fashion as your means will warrant your expending to meet

your own desires, or in deference to public opinion, if you are at

all inclined to cater to its gratification. In your chambers study

neatness and convenience, and also in the kitchen; but when you turn

to the sitting and dining rooms, give yourself abundance of time to

deliberate over everything connected with these apartments, and, after

due consideration, begin the work, which, if rightly understood, will

be a toil of pleasure,--a labor of love, never ending; because every

week some pretty device or fanciful change or addition will occur to

you, by which you can add to its simple attractions, thereby giving

yourself great pleasure, and filling your heart with happy thoughts.

From the tone of the letter and question prompting this chapter, we

should not class its writer with those who desire a position among

the “fashionables,” whose greatest pleasure lies in parties, balls,

and theaters, or a ceaseless round of “calls,” and who would be made

perfectly miserable if compelled by any circumstance to pass a quiet

evening at home, with _nobody but their husband_. For such there is no

_home_. That word belongs to an unknown tongue, which their hearts can

never interpret.

We are not at all in sympathy with those who take it for granted that

the husband is always the most to be blamed, if the club house or any

outside companionship has more attractions than his own home. When the

“twain are made one flesh,” if the union is consummated through love,

and not from mercenary reasons, the heart of the husband will be drawn

most naturally, in his leisure hours, toward the companion he has

chosen from all others; and in these early days it rests chiefly with

her to make all the surroundings of the home committed to her care so

attractive that his steps turn thitherward, because nowhere else can

he secure such true comfort and solid happiness. Having so begun, if

you continue thus to cast your spells about him, here in this pleasant

sitting-room, young wife, he will always prefer to spend his leisure

hours where your skill and taste make it more bright and restful than

any other resort can be. Now, in the earliest days of your wedded

life, before other cares engross your time and thoughts, you have the

opportunity to make _home_ a word of sacred meaning, to learn its true

nature yourself, and to gather around it associations that shall be

lasting, and a safeguard through life.

It is not by the “great sacrifices,” or “heroic devotion,” which

you speak of, that this blessing can be secured; but by _little

things_--daily acts--the work must be begun and the building

established on a firm foundation. Bear this in mind constantly while

planning the room, selecting the furniture, and arranging the many

trifles that, combined, make a sitting-room peculiarly attractive.

Secure, if possible, a southern or eastern lookout, or both united.

Select pictures that are homelike, even if not the elaborate work of

some great artist; those do not always give the greatest pleasure.

Flowers and vines about the room or in the windows add wonderfully

to the cheerfulness of any room, and to this particularly. Have

neat, white shades to exclude the sun partially during the mid-day

hours, and outside blinds to keep curiosity from sharing your evening

enjoyments. A book and piano are always desirable in a family room,

even if you have a _grand piano_ for your parlors. Select the easiest

and most comfortable lounges and chairs, taking time to look in several

manufactories before you decide; for hard, unyielding sofas and chairs

are only fit for show or torture rooms. A commodious table for books,

and gas or lamps, suitable for writing, with convenient drawers to hold

all necessary writing-material, and your own work-stand in the corner,

are essential. These are always useful and convenient; but it is not

needful that we go into elaborate specifications. Your own taste and

love, if you set about the work in the right spirit, will teach you

better than any one else can do. Arrange the necessary articles and

all the embellishments with care and thought, so that when you stand

at the door and survey the work, the room shall lie before you like a

picture, speaking of cheerfulness, rest, and comfort. Here, if you show

your husband, from the first, that you are always interested in his

outside labors and duties, he will gladly come to talk over the day’s

doings; and it will not take long to teach him that a good, true wife

is the best adviser he can have,--that his business knowledge and your

womanly insight and tact, united, will solve dubious questions, and

unravel troublesome tangles, quite as safely and far more pleasantly

than any assistance and advice sought outside of _home_. And in after

life, think you, will it not be pleasant to look back and trace much of

your happiness to the fascinations and attractions you so skillfully

gathered about the pleasant sitting-room, when you, as “young people,”

took sweet counsel together, and laid the foundation for mutual

confidence and true domestic peace? Had you secured the most elegant

parlors, but left this room cold and barren, negligently kept, and

destitute of any special attraction, do you think your prospects of

happiness would have been as bright? Or can you feel that you would

deserve that they should be? It is your work, young wife, to make the

_home_. Your husband may provide and furnish the means, but it is for

you to see that they are used for mutual happiness.

Next to the sitting-room, the dining-room must be the most carefully

arranged. Strange how few give heed to this! It is sometimes a low,

dark, ill-constructed room, reached by stairs often unsafe by reason

of darkness, and usually opening so abruptly to the kitchen that the

appetite is destroyed the moment you enter by the fumes from cooking

which have been gathering in the dining-room all the morning; and the

pleasant intercourse which should enliven each meal is often sadly

interrupted by overmuch talking from the adjacent kitchen. If there

ever is dispute or misfortune there, it seems always destined to occur

while you are at your table. Our city dining rooms are too frequently

after this pattern. Here is some excuse; for we must expect, in one way

or another, to be “cabined, cribbed, and confined” in the city; but in

the free, bright country, there can seldom be any such excuse given,

and yet the same heedlessness with regard to anything pleasant in the

position of the dining-room is noticeable. Opening into a back yard or

clothes-yard, or overlooking the barn-yard, with nothing attractive

or cheerful,--this is thought good enough for a place to _feed in_. A

very great mistake; for here we should meet, not to eat hastily, and

rise up and go our ways, but there should be quite as much enjoyment in

free and cheerful conversation at the table as can possibly be secured

during the mere act of eating. A friend occasionally drops in; and when

children are gathered about the board, their little winning ways and

delightful prattle add wonderfully to the pleasure of the repast. Our

American men, when actively engaged in business, as a large proportion

of them are, often find the breakfast and dinner hours the only parts

of the day when they can see their children. It is time little folks

were asleep, generally, before the father closes his labors and returns

home for tea. For that reason, if for no other, the dining-room, in

every family, as being the place where, except on Sunday, the children

will have the best opportunity of seeing their father, should be made

bright, cheerful, and peculiarly attractive; because it will be more

closely associated in their minds with his presence. As they grow

older, they should be taught to give their aid in arranging fruit and

flowers for the decoration of the table and side-board before each

meal, “because papa will soon be here.”

You may think these are all such _little things_, that you cannot

conceive it possible they should be of much importance in arranging a

house, or making home happy, and will probably feel that your question

has been unsatisfactorily answered. But, dear “young wife,” believe

me, it is by little things that you must make the house, now committed

to your charge, a happy one, and so attractive to your husband that

he can have no wish to seek pleasure elsewhere. It is not by any

great effort once in a while, but by the constant, daily evidence of

your thoughtfulness and care, that you will secure the confidence and

companionship you are so earnestly desiring and seeking after.

XLVIII.

THE CARE OF COOKING-STOVES AND RANGES.

NEXT to perplexities and trouble with servants, there is nothing that

so severely afflicts the careful housekeeper as the attempt to secure

attention to the cooking-stove or range. The reasons given for failure

in any particular point are innumerable, and all cast the burden of

blame on the poor, inoffensive stove. There never was such a miserable

cooking-stove. The fire won’t burn, or it burns too fiercely; the oven

won’t bake at all, or bakes so furiously that everything you trust to

it is ruined. It smokes, or the gas escapes, and fills the house with

the offensive odors; it burns out more coal in one day than should be

used in two; the dampers are useless, or the grate cannot be turned

over. There is scarcely a defect to be imagined but is charged to this

necessary evil,--the cooking-stove or range.

In part, no doubt, these ceaseless annoyances spring from the

heedlessness or ignorance of the servants, but more frequently, we

think, it is because the mistress herself does not understand the

cause of the difficulty, or how to point out and remedy the mistakes.

It is impossible to expect a girl will be successful in managing

the fire and stove unless you are competent and willing to give her

full instruction, and are also ready to follow this up with constant

daily supervision, until time and a faithful trial convince you that

the subject is fully understood, and your injunctions regularly

followed. Even then _watch_, with all kindness and patience, not with

a fault-finding spirit, but because carelessness and forgetfulness

are bound up in the heart of almost every servant, and ceaseless

vigilance is your only protection from mistakes of the most mortifying

and vexatious character; and do you not know that such trials always

come at the most unexpected and inconvenient time? No doubt there are

occasionally servants found, or heard of, who are faithful, careful,

competent, and safe to be trusted in every particular; but they are,

“like angels’ visits, few and far between”; and it is wise for every

housekeeper to be as exact in her explanations, and as watchful in

seeing them executed, as if she knew her girl was totally ignorant of

everything about the stove or range, until well convinced that she

fully understands and regularly carries out her mistress’s lessons.

Then, if she fails, it is safe to look upon the failure as culpable

negligence, for which it would be very difficult to find a reasonable

excuse.

Simply _telling_ a servant how you wish the stove managed, or anything

else done, is by no means sufficient. To say to the new cook, “Bridget,

I wish you to be very particular in cleaning out your range or stove

every night before retiring, and have your kindlings and coal all laid

ready to start a fire in the morning,” will not secure obedience. The

answer will doubtless be, “O yes, mem, I always do that.” Perhaps once

in a great while you may find a cook that will do this regularly; for

it certainly, if they will only try it, is the easiest way. But take

nothing on trust. See with your own eyes before you retire how much

this _always_ means. Too often it should be translated, “when it suits

my convenience.” Perhaps for a short time it may be done in accordance

with your wishes; but keep open eyes, or nine times out of ten, in less

than a month, you will be told, “I can’t do anything with the range or

stove.” “Have you thoroughly cleaned it out each night as I directed?”

“O yes, mem; of course I have.” Now, either go to work yourself and

see what is the matter, which is the best way, or send for a man from

a stove manufactory to examine. Stand by _with the cook_ to see the

results of his examination. Of course the fire must be all out before

he can do anything. He will then remove every cover from the top, and

most likely find the whole surface perfectly clogged up with small bits

of coal and piles of ashes, so that the draught is obstructed; or, if

the difficulty does not lie there mainly, he will take out the slide to

the pit under the oven, and, notwithstanding cook’s assurances that it

is regularly cleaned out, you will find it filled with ashes up to the

oven bottom; or the grate has been so imperfectly emptied and cleaned

that it is broken, and clogged with _clinkers_, leaving hardly room

to make a fire in it. Now you have the whole mystery solved. All the

girl’s protestations and assurances of great care in keeping the stove

in perfect order cannot longer blind your eyes. A few such examples

may not insure cook’s future attention and truthfulness, but they will

teach you, that as the _foot of the master_ is the only warrant for

large crops on a farm, or successful operations in any pursuit, so the

_eye and hand_ of the mistress must ever be most vigilant and effective

to secure comfort in the house.

There is no one convenience on which so large a part of house comfort

depends as on a good cooking-apparatus, whether in the form of stove

or range; and however perfect the patent, nothing can so easily be

put out of working order by careless management. Before starting a

new fire, examine if the stove has been thoroughly cleaned from the

last one; then open the dampers; roll up and put into the grate a few

pieces of paper,--or some shavings, if you can have them, are still

better; lay lightly on this some splinters or small bits of kindling

wood. Do not throw them on in a heavy mass, but so arrange them as

to give free breathing-holes; on this foundation put a few larger

pieces of pine kindling, and if you are hurried, and need a quick,

bright fire, sprinkle over a small shovelful of _coke_, if you have

it. Nothing kindles quicker than coke. Now replace all the covers,

and set fire to the paper with a match, held underneath the grate.

If lighted from above, it must be, of course, before the covers are

put on, and that fills the kitchen with smoke. When the wood is well

blazing, before at all wasted, take off the covers and cross-piece (the

paper will have burned out by that time, and little smoke will trouble

you), and pour on the hard coal, scattering it evenly at the sides,

but a little heaped or rounded in the center. Be careful that the

grate is not _filled_ ABOVE _the fire-brick_. This is a very important

consideration, for if heaped above, it injures the stove, burning out

the iron-work, and obstructing the draught, so that the coal cannot

kindle readily, but wastes and smolders without doing much good. As

soon as the coal is well kindled, close the draughts, or dampers, and

you will have a clear, serviceable fire. It is a great mistake to use

a large amount of paper or kindling. The paper, when burnt out, makes

a smothering, black kind of ashes, that deadens the fire, and the

pine kindling, if used too profusely, fills the stove with so much

bituminous smoke as to clog the pipes needlessly.

When your breakfast is dished and sent to the table, tell the cook to

raise a cover from the stove, and see if it would not be well to add

a small shovelful of coal to keep the fire in good working order; but

it will not be necessary to open the draughts until the breakfast is

over and the dishes washed and put away. When that is done, it will be

time to begin arrangements for dinner, and then the draughts should

be opened a few minutes, and the fire raked down or shaken, so as to

remove all the ashes; but _on no account stir it from the top_; that

kills the fire, turning the coals black. The ashes being removed, lift

off the two front covers and the cross-piece once more; pour on more

coal, always remembering not to fill above the fire-brick. The object

in lifting off both covers and cross-bar, instead of pouring in the

coal at one hole, and pushing it across with the poker, as most girls

do, is to prevent the coal from scattering and lodging on the plate of

the stove, under the side covers. If this is done, the coal remaining

there prevents the heat from having a free circulation; therefore every

time the coal is added, even if both covers are removed, giving a free

opening to pour on what fuel is needed, it is best to pass the poker

under the side-holes, and see that the upper plate is free from coal

and ashes.

We have written these simple directions at the request of a “very young

housekeeper,” who assures us that there are hundreds “longing for just

such instruction, who, fearing to expose their ignorance, are keeping

silent, subjecting themselves to all sorts of mistakes, which make

their husbands cross, and set themselves almost crazy.”

We regret that any should feel ashamed to ask questions on household

matters, however simple. To answer them, if in our power, is pleasure,

and the questions are a great encouragement; for we often think we

have exhausted all that need be said, when some word from the “young

housekeepers” remind us of points which we have overlooked.

XLIX.

THE OLD WAYS AND THE NEW.

IT is interesting to note the changes and improvements which have been

made within the last half-century in almost all the conveniences and

implements which are needed in the preparation of food. It may be that

the ease and comfort by which this labor can be performed, through

these new contrivances, when compared with the old ways, and the

facility with which all classes, rich or poor, can and do secure all

or some of these conveniences, has tempted to an indulgence in luxuries

regardless of economy or health. Perhaps the firm health and longevity

so common among our forefathers were in some degree owing to their

more simple diet; but also very largely, we think, to their healthful

activity and industry, and to the _early to bed, early to rise_ habits

which their active life demanded.

But, as the present generation have acquired extravagant tastes with

regard to food, as well as in dress, there certainly is cause for

gratitude that great improvements in the machinery by which such

work can be performed have kept pace with the cultivated taste that

demands so much more skill to gratify it. We doubt, however, if any

modern improvement can ever set before us food that will have the rare

excellence, the exquisite flavor, of that which used to come from our

mother’s great brick oven. Ah, the bread,--the rich-colored brown

bread; the creamy-white bread; the pies, puddings, and cakes!

“’Twere worth ten years of modern life,

One glance at that array!”

We have yet to see the device which can compensate for the loss of the

old brick oven!

But wishing will not restore it to us who live in cities or large

towns, unless we can bring back the old primeval forests, and, instead

of the “coal-bins,” possess again the old-fashioned wood-houses with

their rich stores of seasoned wood, piled high to the rafters; and the

huge piles of green wood in the yard, waiting for the leisure days to

be cut, split, and housed; or we must emigrate to the unsettled parts

of the West and South, which are still rich in splendid woodland, where

the settlers are cutting down the grand old forests, or wastefully

burning them. In their present haste to clear the land, they forget

their own future interest and the comfort of their children, who, by

this waste and destruction, will be denied the luxury of wood fires,

and compelled to content themselves with coal, and all the annoyances

and discomfort connected with its habitual use. Coal is excellent for

the cook-stove; but it is a great sacrifice when none but the rich can

afford wood fires, in their family room at least.

It may be difficult for the first occupants of wild lands to save

the great wealth of fuel, while hastening to open up their farms.

But it seems to us that it would be wise to preserve larger tracts

of woodland on any new farm or home-steads, as a provision for the

future; remembering that any ten acres thoroughly cultivated will bring

more abundant and better paying crops than thirty cleared but poorly

cultivated; _poorly_, because the owner uses the time in cutting down

the wood on the extra twenty acres which should have been given to

the careful cultivation of the ten. When we have been at the West and

South, at various times, it has been a source of continual regret to

see that which our large towns and cities so greatly need recklessly

given to the flames, knowing that the time cannot be far distant when

these young towns will feel the need of this fuel as much as their

elders. We cannot help thinking while we ride through the burning

forests, that even a woman could manage so that the forests could be

more largely preserved, and the trees which must fall be saved and

made useful and profitable; while the comfort and prosperity of the

possessor could be much increased by the economy, because the farm

would be brought under more careful culture, and thus sooner return

paying crops.

But the thought of the well-beloved brick oven has led us into the

wilderness, and away from our subject.

We were noticing the great difference between the ancient and modern

manner of cooking. Many of our readers remember and have often used the

brick ovens, the large old-fashioned fireplace, the long crane, the

pot-hooks and trammel on it, and the great pots and kettles suspended

by them over the fierce fire,--the immense “roaster,” the “Dutch oven,”

the Johnny-cake baked on the “Bannock-board” before the glowing bed of

coals, while bright rows of apples were sputtering on the hearth. But

all these names are to your children like words in an unknown tongue.

They will never know the rich flavors gained only by this mode of

cooking; neither will they endure the pains and penalties by which this

knowledge was obtained. What would those tyrants of our households,

the modern cooks, say if compelled to swelter over the blazing fire,

or roast with the meats they are cooking upon the fiery coals on the

hearth?

Some years since we were presented with one of Stewart’s stoves, which

proved so satisfactory that we never expected, and hardly desired,

anything better; and when, a few years later, we were persuaded to put

the “Peerless” in its place, although always very ready to try anything

new that promises to lighten or simplify the kitchen work, we confess

that it was with much reluctance that we consented to make the change,

being in no wise inclined to believe that it could at all compete with

our old and well-tried friend, the Stewart’s. But the stove proved

itself worthy of its name. “Peerless” it certainly has been, and in all

respects given us more comfort than any stove or range we have ever

used, baking equally in every part of the oven, and using much less

coal even than the Stewart’s. It is made by Pratt and Wentworth, of

Boston.

We well remember when cook-stoves and ranges were first brought into

common use, and how positive the good housekeepers were that nothing

decent could be prepared with these strange contrivances. But only a

few days were needed to work a complete conversion. Since then, almost

every year brings before the public some new range or cook-stove, or

marked improvements on the old. By and by we expect to see stoves and

ranges arranged for the use of gas, instead of coal, for cooking; and

if a better quality of gas than that which has tormented us for the

last few years can be furnished, we imagine any such invention will

bring us nearer to the perfection of cooking arrangements than has ever

been reached. To be free from smoke, and the dust and vexation of coal

and ashes, will indeed be a consummation most devoutly to be wished.

But until gas can be thus used in the kitchen, housekeepers have reason

to be well satisfied with the many excellent ranges and stoves now in

general use.

L.

A FEW HINTS ON CARVING.

IT is a great accomplishment to be able to _carve_ well and easily,

without awkwardness; but it is one that receives altogether too little

attention. Too often it would seem that the host or hostess, or whoever

is called upon to perform this table duty, has no idea of there being

anything needed but to hack off in the most expeditious manner as much

meat as is required to satisfy the wants of those present, without the

slightest reference to the mode in which it should be done, or the

choice bits to be secured by careful carving. We have seen those who

in every other respect were true gentlemen and ladies, carve poultry

or a piece of meat in such a barbarous manner as to banish all desire

to eat, and almost the ability to taste the big, uncouth, mangled lump

that was put, or rather thrown, on the plate. To cut off a thick,

rough piece from any part that the knife happens to light upon first,

aside from being untidy and unpalatable, is also very wasteful. After

two or three such careless cuttings, the whole piece is so defaced and

uneven, that it is no longer possible to secure a decent looking bit:

and the bone is left with much adhering to it, in ragged morsels, which

dry and become worthless if left over to the next day, but which, had

the joint been properly carved, could have been sent to the table for a

cold relish for tea, in a neat and attractive form.

Our ladies are seldom good carvers, and do not often attempt it. Few

have been taught, or thought it worth while to try and learn; but

in early times it was considered an indispensable part of a girl’s

education. The want of such knowledge often leaves one in an unpleasant

and embarrassing position; for to every one there occasionally comes

a time when the gentleman of the family must be absent, and the lady

must do the carving, or ask a guest or stranger, who may be even more

awkward than herself.

To stand up while carving is not as proper or skillful a way of

doing the work as to be seated; but it is sometimes easier and more

convenient, and, if the table be at all crowded, less troublesome to

guests. In such cases it is quite allowable.

The carving-knife must be sharp and thin. A large, broad-bladed knife

is needed for meats; a long, narrow, and sharp-pointed blade for

poultry and game; both should be kept in perfect order, and always

ready for use.

When dished, poultry or game must be laid on its back, the breast

uppermost, for the greater convenience of the carver, who should put

the fork into the breast, holding the bird firmly, until he has taken

off the wings and legs, cut out the merry thought, or wish-bone; cut

nice, even slices from the breast, and removed the collar-bone. A

skillful carver will do all this without once turning the fowl over.

Next cut off the side-bone, and cut down the back, dividing the carcass

in two. Separate the drumstick from the second joint, and in helping a

lady, if she prefer the wing, cut it in two parts that she may handle

it more conveniently.

A ham, or a leg of lamb or mutton, should be first cut in the middle,

clean down to the bone, passing the knife all round. Then cut thin,

even slices from the upper or thicker part, separating each slice from

the bone at the bottom, carefully, without tearing it. Some slices can

also be cut from the lower part of the leg or ham, which are just as

good as the upper part; but after a little you come to the cords or

fibers, and then the remainder of the lower part should be set aside to

cut out all the little bits for a relish at tea, or, in ham, to chop up

as seasoning or with other kinds of meat for hash. By cutting meat in

this way, much may be saved. Good carving is good economy.

The middle portion of boiled tongue is the best, and should be first

served to guests. The tip is fit only for hashes. It should always be

cut crosswise, never lengthwise.

When dishing a sirloin, place it on the platter with the tenderloin

underneath, and carve thin slices lengthwise from the side next to you;

then turn the piece over, and carve the tenderloin carefully, cutting

across the piece, serving equally from both parts.

In carving a fore-quarter of lamb, divide the shoulders from the ribs;

then separate the ribs. The fore-quarter of pork and mutton should

be carved in the same way. When carving the hind-quarter, cut neatly

between the ribs to the joint, which must then be carefully separated,

so as not to bring a jagged, mangled piece to the plate. To do this

you will be obliged to charge your butcher particularly to _crack_ the

joints, not only of the hind, but also of the fore-quarter. He has the

implements to do it more expertly than you can, and unless this is

well done, it is quite impossible to carve the ribs neatly. Serve a

bit of the kidney and the fat to each guest if agreeable. Some do not

relish the kidney, and could eat with more relish if it were not on

their plate, and for this reason it is safest to ask each one before

helping.

In carving a fillet of veal, begin at the top to cut, serving a portion

of the dressing to each guest. When carving the breast of veal, cut the

upper portion of the brisket, or that part of the breast that lies next

to the ribs, separately, and in helping, inquire what part is preferred.

Some like to send a young pig whole to the table, with a lemon or bunch

of parsley put into the mouth. We think it much nicer to take off the

head, and cut the pig in halves or quarters, before sending it to the

table, and then carve it. It would be very unpleasant to many to see

such a revolting caricature of a live pig brought before them. But each

one must judge for himself.

LI.

PARENTAL EXAMPLE.

PARENTS may give “line upon line and precept upon precept,” in their

assiduous watchfulness over the manners and morals of their children,

yet, if they do not constantly bear in mind that example has more

influence over the young than precept, their efforts will be of little

avail. If you reprove a child for careless usage of books, show them

how they are injured and defaced, by turning down corners, scribbling

on the margin, or throwing them down on the face, how much good will

such lectures do, if, when he enters your library, or comes where

you have been reading, the child sees your books tossed about, the

bindings strained, and the corners in a most undesirable condition?

You endeavor to inculcate a habit of neatness in your daughter; you

insist that when she returns from a walk or ride she shall smooth out

her bonnet-strings, brush the dust from it, and put it at once in the

bonnet-box; you tell her to fold her shawl neatly, hang up her sack,

pull the fingers of her gloves straight, fold them up and lay them in

their appropriate place; and this you request her to do, not once or

twice, but habitually, not only because it is tidy, but also a great

saving of time and garments in the course of a year. But if you come

in, and toss your street garments about in the most careless manner,

how much good, think you, will all your words of instruction have

accomplished? You may enforce obedience, but compulsory habits are

not usually abiding; and, when old enough to cast off restraint, it

will be, not so much the _words you have spoken_, as the things your

child has _seen you do habitually_, which will influence and guide her

womanhood.

You resolutely object to your children using low phrases,--what is

termed _slang_; but if your own conversation is largely interspersed

with foolish or needless ejaculations, fight against it as you may,

you will find it impossible to prevent them from copying your mode of

speaking, and it will be very strange if they do not carry it to a much

greater extent than you have done.

Nowhere is this force of example so strikingly exemplified as at the

table. It is always disagreeable to see a child sitting with its arms

on the table, or resting its elbow there while carrying the food to its

mouth. There is some excuse for the little ones, as their short limbs

grow weary, and the position, though a very awkward one, seems to them

a rest from the restraint of the table; and no doubt it is so. It is

exceedingly annoying to see children filling their mouths too full,

and then washing the food down by drinking, before the food is half

masticated. If a child reaches over another’s plate for some article

of food, instead of politely asking for it, who can help feeling

disturbed by the rudeness? It is disagreeable to all present to see any

one stand upon the round of the chair, or on the floor, and _spring_

after a piece of bread or meat, or push a dish across the table instead

of handing it. You shrink from the child who helps itself to butter

with the knife from its own plate. All this is annoying in children,

but it is intolerable when practiced by the parents. They are as much

disgusted as any “lookers-on” can be, when they notice such rude,

ill-mannered actions in their children; but while they severely blame

these young things, they forget that these are always watching and

imitating their parents’ faults.

We have seen those who were in most respects truly refined, whose great

anxiety seemed to be to guard their children from any contact with

rude associates, and to teach them as much refinement of manner and

character as was possible; and in most things we have observed that

such parents most scrupulously and conscientiously conformed to their

own instructions; but when we have had a seat at their table, we have

sometimes been amazed to observe that they felt themselves exonerated

from the observance of the simplest forms of table etiquette, yet held

their children in strict bondage to such rules, and made the hours

spent at what should be the social, cheerful board very uncomfortable

by continued reproofs.

“John, take your arms off the table.” The child raises his eyes to

his father, and sees one arm laid on the table before him, the other

supporting his head, with the elbow on the table, while administering

this reproof.

“James, how often must I tell you to ask for what you want, and not

reach for it across the table?”

A few minutes after, James sees his reprover reaching to the full

stretch of his arm, supplemented by the _fork from his own plate_, and

pick up a potato, piece of bread, or meat, at the farther end of the

table.

“O child, will you never learn to eat without smacking your lips and

making such a disagreeable noise? It makes one sick to hear you!”

The child has been watching the parent while eating, and trying hard to

imitate the genuine _gourmand’s smack_ which he hears from the head of

the table.

“I am astonished! Why do you take the bread from the plate with your

fingers and toss it in that manner to your sister? Never let me see you

guilty of such rudeness again!”

Now, children are quick to see mistakes and discrepancies in the

conduct of their elders, or those who have the rule over them. It does

not require many years for them to mark how inconsistent such training

is. Naturally children are not very fond of rules and regulations; they

like freedom of action as well as their elders; and if they see that

what is called rude and ill-mannered in a child is the daily practice

of those whom they are expected to look up to, is it strange that

they take every possible opportunity to transgress these precepts,

so strangely nullified by parental example? They are always reaching

forward to something beyond their present condition. If father or

mother does such and such things, which are denied to the young son

or daughter, of course they long for the same privilege; because if

their parents do thus, it must be something smart, the imitation of

which brings them nearer to manhood and womanhood, and farther from

childhood, from which latter period all children are eager to hasten

away. Then, if this is so,--and we think every observing parent has

found it to be true,--is it not important that the rules which are laid

down to secure good morals and good manners in the children should be

considered of sufficient importance to regulate the practice of the

parents; and should not the deviations from them, on the part of the

elders, be few,--or, better yet, none?

LII.

TRUE TASTE MORE EFFECTIVE THAN MONEY.

MANY imagine they must relinquish all hopes of gratifying their

tastes, or the inherent love of the beautiful, if they do not rank

among the rich. This is an entirely false idea. There are houses upon

which thousands of dollars have been expended, that would be quite

intolerable to people of real refinement as a permanent residence. The

whole arrangement and furniture are so stiff and formal, so heavy and

oppressive with superfluous ornament, that simple curiosity to see what

strange vagaries can enter into the heads of the rich, and in what

absurd manner they study to spend their abundant wealth, would seem to

be the only motive which could tempt a sensible person to enter.

On the other hand we find small, modest cottages, which bear

unmistakable evidence of the necessity of close economy, which have far

more of real comfort and convenience about them than those splendid

mansions, and at the same time they are _gems_, bearing in every part

the stamp of true elegance and refinement. They are so beautified by

the genuine taste and ingenuity of the occupants, that it is real

pleasure to pass from one room to another, or sit quietly and enjoy

the sweet enchantment; yet money had little to do toward securing such

attractions. It is the fitness of things, the harmonious blending

of shape and color, the adaptation of the furniture to the wants

of each apartment, that make the whole combination so peculiarly

delightful. And yet, how and from what was all this tasteful furnishing

constructed? If some of those persons, whose dark and gloomy parlors

are hung with the costliest damask, and their furniture carved and

upholstered by the most skillful and fashionable workmen, should, by

chance, find themselves in one of these pleasant homes, they could

not help being captivated by the spirit of the place, in spite of the

absence of style or fashion. The elegant, airy, graceful parlors, the

rest, the peace and comfort which pervade the whole atmosphere, would

be to them a new experience; and what would be their astonishment to

learn with how little expense all this, which they acknowledge to be so

refreshing, has been secured!

No matter if the purse is not very heavy, young people, with good

health and a fair share of taste and ingenuity, have great pleasure

in store for themselves, when they undertake together to furnish and

beautify a house, which is to be their home. There are so many small

conveniences, so many little contrivances, that a carpenter never

thinks of, because he has never had woman’s work to do, and therefore

cannot see how important these little things are. A woman should know

just where an hour’s work, well considered and planned, can be employed

to manufacture some convenient thing, that will save much time and

strength, and which, however cheaply and roughly made, she can, in a

few spare moments, transform into an object of real beauty.

“Harper’s Bazaar,” always full of suggestions, often describes the way

of making useful articles beautiful ones. The pictures and explanations

are very easily understood, and each one who attempts to profit by

these suggestions can elaborate or modify as her skill, time, or

means may allow. There is no end to the variety and improvement that

will grow out of each successive trial; and certainly no end to the

pleasure that one can enjoy in seeing such trophies of taste spring

up within and around a new home. A few yards of bright blue, pink, or

green paper muslin, with an overskirt of cheap Nottingham lace, dotted

muslin, or an old lawn dress, can soon transform a rough half-circle

or square piece of board into a pretty washstand or dressing-table.

Old broom-handles make good legs for the stands; and a part of the

length of the handle, not needed, or some smaller stick, answers nicely

for the rounds or braces. The husband can easily bore the holes in

the top, into which the legs may be fastened, and also for the braces

necessary to keep the table firm; an old piece of cloth does nicely

for the under-cover; an old hoop-skirt nailed around the edge of the

top, before the wadding and upper cover are put on, is excellent to

make the outside skirt hang in a proper manner, or the grandmother’s

old-fashioned wire fire-fender, which for years has lain rusting in

your mother’s garret, is admirable for that purpose. Then, with the

bright, delicately colored paper muslin, and the white lace or lawn

overskirt, or cover, you have, with trifling expense, as pretty a

toilet-table or washstand as any one need desire. Underneath the hoops

or fender you may have a convenient repository for work-basket or

boxes, if your house is not well supplied with closets.

“Sleepy Hollows,” sewing-chairs or easy-chairs made from old hogsheads

or barrels, and pretty lounges from long packing-boxes, are, we think,

among the articles the “Bazar” has sometimes mentioned,--giving

pictures and explanations of the manner in which the roughest and

hardest work may be executed. From these directions, any one with

tolerable skill can gather the first ideas, and then proceed to make

the articles, modifying the shape to suit their own fancy.

Pretty ottomans or stools covered to match the furniture of the room

are a great convenience, and help to give a genteel, stylish air. If

skillfully made and dressed, who could imagine that they are formed

from well-cleaned and scoured soap-boxes or butter-tubs, with castors

screwed to the bottom, and a cover with hinges on the top, thus serving

a double purpose,--making a pleasant seat, easily rolled to any part

of the room, and a convenient box or trunk for holding work-bundles,

papers, or your boots and slippers.

We never regret the loss of youth and strength so much, or are so near

being envious, as when we see young people studying how ingeniously

they can arrange a small cottage, and give it the air of beauty and

elegance their natures so much crave. They will not find half the

pleasure in enjoying it, all perfected, as they would have had in

planning and executing; and yet how many throw aside such enjoyment,

and turn this pleasant labor into drudgery, not willingly cultivating

all the talents God has bestowed upon them, but repining because they

cannot afford to employ an upholsterer to furnish what their own skill

might have executed perhaps far more satisfactorily.

We will follow these suggestions no further, but hope some of our young

housekeepers may be led to improve the hints, in a manner that shall

make them converts to the ideas advanced.

LIII.

COOKING BY STEAM.

MUCH has been said of the superiority of steamed food over that which

is boiled or baked; and year after year the papers or magazines

devoted to domestic economy and the improvement and simplification of

household labor have advocated this mode of cooking meats, vegetables,

and many other articles of food, every few months recommending some

new invention. We have tried one experiment after another, finding, to

be sure, some imperfection in all; but enough that was practicable to

convince us there was much which was desirable in the idea; and, if

able to do the work with our own hands, confident we could reap great

advantage from it.

When the mistress of a family has not strength to do her cooking

herself, or that part of it which requires more than ordinary judgment

and skill, she is not situated so that new modes of work can be tried

with much prospect of success. Most servants, particularly the cooks,

when accustomed to one mode of work, are very reluctant to change; and,

therefore, if the mistress is not able to make all experiments herself,

she will soon find, unless fully prepared to have the autocrat of the

kitchen abdicate without “giving notice,” that it is safest, and wisest

often, to allow a tolerably good girl to move on in the “even tenor of

her ways,” without attempting any changes, except those which she can

bring about quietly and imperceptibly. This is no very easy lesson for

an old housekeeper to learn; but repeated defeats must teach her that

patience, as well as discretion, is a “better part of valor.”

In the last century, an American, Benjamin Thompson, made Count Rumford

by the Elector of Bavaria for distinguished military and scientific

services, gave much time and thought to the study of heat and

experiments in cooking, being the inventor of the present style of coal

fireplaces and grates, cooking ranges, etc. He was the first person

on record, with any pretensions to learning and philosophy, who ever

studied the dressing of meat for food as a science. The result was the

invention of a boiler for cooking by steam. Within a short time another

boiler has been perfected involving the same principles, but containing

various improvements over the steamer of the last century, which has

been named “Rumford’s Boiler” in compliment to the original inventor.

We have been trying it.

Our cook was positive she could never use _that thing_. It was

troublesome, took up too much room on the stove, etc. Bless the girl!

That is one of the excellences of _that thing_. Little else in the way

of utensils is needed on the top of the stove, beside one of these

boilers. We stipulated that she should use it two weeks, and if found

troublesome, it should share the fate of many other inventions, and no

more be said about it. But long before the two weeks expired it had won

Mary’s heart entirely, and now she would sooner part with anything else

from her kitchen than the “Rumford Boiler.”

One peculiarity of this most excellent boiler is, that unlike all

others we have ever seen, neither _steam_ nor _water_ comes in actual

contact with the article to be cooked. Two inches of water is put into

the bottom of the boiler. Then a large receiver, into which meat, fowl,

or fish is put to be cooked, is fitted on tight over the boiling water,

and shut off from all possibility of being touched by steam or water

by a close-fitting cover. Above this two other pans, or boilers, for

vegetables, custards, etc., can be fitted with tight cover also; and

the whole boiler, which is about as large but higher than an ordinary

wash-boiler, is also closely covered. Very little fuel will keep the

water boiling hot when once it has reached that point, as no heat can

escape by evaporation. It is not generally understood, or at least it

is not borne in mind with sufficient care, that “after water is _just

boiling_, all the fuel which is needed to make it boil _violently_

is just so much wasted, without in the smallest degree expediting or

shortening the process of cooking. It is by the _heat_, its _intensity_

and the time of its duration, not by the _boiling_ or _bubbling_ up of

the water, that the food is cooked.”

In this “Rumford Boiler” the water can be kept at the boiling point

with no more fuel than need be used to keep two quarts of water at that

temperature. It is the most economical and comfortable arrangement for

summer use, and at the same time equally desirable for the winter.

Meat cooked in it not only retains all its juice, but also nearly all

its original weight, losing about one ounce to a pound; by the regular

process of baking, meats lose over four ounces to a pound.

The uniform heat of the boiling water cooks whatever is put into the

boiler equally all the way through; no meat, vegetable, or any other

article can be scorched. It would seem impossible for the poorest

cook to spoil a dinner, so long as she does not let the fire go out

or remove the boiler from the stove. Meats require no basting, and in

that respect much time and labor can be saved; and the fire once fairly

burning can be kept low as soon as the water has reached the boiling

point, and no more care of a coal fire is needed till the dinner is

ready.

Meat, fish, and vegetables may all be cooked at the same time in this

boiler; for being placed in separate receivers with closely fitting

covers, no taste can possibly pass from one kind of food to another.

Meat thus steamed or cooked is much more juicy, tender, and easy of

digestion than when prepared in any other way we know of. No danger

of burning, scorching, or overcooking. If left in much longer than

is needed, it is not injured by it; for, as no water or steam can

reach it, it is only kept hot in its own juices, without the sodden,

disagreeable look and taste of meat that has remained too long in

boiling water or a perforated steamer; and, what is even as great a

recommendation as the excellent flavor of the food, the house is not

filled with smoke and smell of cooking.

Besides, if properly cooked, there is no waste,--all is eatable and

palatable; even the tip of the wings from birds and poultry, which in

baking are dried up and perfectly worthless, are delicious, for there

is no sweeter meat than wings, when not dried past use. In steaming all

is tender and juicy. When we steam beef, mutton, game, or poultry, we

take them from the steamer, dredge over a little flour, and put into

the oven about fifteen minutes,--not long enough to dry, but simply

brown delicately,--and think it an improvement.

We have also found, by experiments, that we can do many more things

with this boiler than we were promised, and with the most gratifying

results. We put bread, cake, and pies into it, cover close, and leave

them till done; then set them in the oven long enough to secure the

rich, golden brown; and now there are no more burnt upper or under

crusts, and no more uncooked bottom crust to our pastry.

LIV.

VEGETABLES.

JUNE is the season when vegetables are most abundant and can be had in

the greatest variety. Among the numberless articles of food there is

nothing so conducive to health as good, fresh, and properly prepared

vegetables, and nothing which so easily deranges the whole system if

used stale, unripe, or badly cooked. Vegetables having so large a share

in our comfort, it is essential that housekeepers should understand how

to prepare every variety not only in the most attractive manner, but

also in the most healthful way that can be devised.

In the city it is not easy, hardly possible, to procure fresh

vegetables. Those only who have a private team, and can send to

the adjacent market-gardens, can hope to have them; hence our city

housekeepers, who have never had the good fortune to live in the

country during the harvest season of vegetables, can hardly realize

the difference between peas, beans, corn, etc., which can be gathered

early, and eaten almost with the dew upon them, and such as are heaped

into market-wagons and brought from a distance, and exposed for hours

or days, if the sales are not rapid in our markets, to the air and

sun; made to retain the semblance of fresh vegetables by frequent

showers from the hose or watering-pot. Nothing so readily destroys

all the sweetness and the richest flavors of such articles as these

shower-baths; and although the purchaser may fully understand the whole

art of cooking, no skill can bring to our city tables such flavors and

richness as the farmers or the country gentleman should enjoy daily. It

is through carelessness or ignorance if they do not feast luxuriously

all summer. Of course, almost all kinds of vegetables can be cooked in

a great variety of ways; and as tastes differ widely, and what would

please one may be distasteful to another, by this variety every one may

be suited; yet there are some general rules that must always remain

fixed and immovable; and if not followed, no mode of cooking these

viands will be fully satisfactory. Some few items from the history of

some of our most common roots and vegetables may not be uninteresting,

before giving a review of the mode of preparing and cooking them.

The _Potato_, now one of the most useful and nutritious of the esculent

roots, is a native of South America, and first found wild in Chili

and Peru, although it is often called _Irish_ potato, and supposed by

many to have been first found in Ireland. It was brought to England in

1586, and for a long time was eaten as a _fruit_, or made into pies

or puddings, and eaten with sauces and wines. It was so used through

the time of Queen Elizabeth. It was planted in Ireland by Sir Walter

Raleigh, on one of his estates in that country. After being planted and

partly grown, the little green balls, which follow the blossoms, were

supposed to be the fruit. Sir Walter had them cooked, but finding them

not at all palatable he concluded the crop was a failure, and, as might

be supposed, was not very strongly tempted by his first experiment

to try it again. But upon turning up the ground, to use for other

purposes, to his great satisfaction he found the food he had looked for

on the stalk hid in the earth, and of a most desirable character.

After many experiments it was proved that thrice as large a crop of

potatoes as of any other root could be produced from an acre, and they

soon became the chief food of the Irish peasantry, and remain so to

this day.

There is no end to the varieties of the potato that are being brought

before the public. New seedlings are announced every year; almost

every section has its own special seedling or favorite, which seems

excellent there, but deteriorates when planted in other parts; and

many kinds which were the best known years ago are now lost sight of

entirely. We have not since childhood been able to find the “rusty

coats” or “lady’s fingers,” but have never seen a potato that equalled

them; partly, no doubt, because one never carries the tastes of

childhood into mature age to perfection, but this is not altogether the

reason; they were, undoubtedly, very excellent potatoes. The “early

rose” is nearer to our idea of the “rusty coats” in flavor, but is not

like it in appearance, nor of so perfect a quality.

The potato can be satisfactorily used in more ways than any other

edible root,--in bread, pastry, starch, puddings, pies, and salad;

boiled, baked, roasted, stewed, fried. It is said “they furnish flour

without a mill, and bread without an oven.”

After potatoes are taken from the ground, and have been exposed

to the sun and air long enough to dry, the sooner they are placed

in a cool, dry cellar the better they will keep. Mrs. Haskill, in

her “Housekeeper’s Encyclopædia,” advises that all that are needed

for winter use should be packed in barrels, and a little _plaster_

scattered over each layer, to absorb the moisture; such as are to be

kept for spring use she thinks should be buried in the ground, and a

little plaster be sprinkled over them; also, Mrs. Haskill claims that

this is a preventive against _rot_, but does not consider it sure.

Whether this is good doctrine, we leave for our scientific farmers.

The _Sweet Potato_ is a tuberous root, very different from our common

potato. It is common in tropical climates, where it is much more

perfect than in our colder States. There are seldom but two kinds

brought to our markets, the red or purple rooted, and the white or

yellow rooted. Far South, the red grows to a large size, and is

sweeter and more nutritious than those raised at the North. The white

or yellow rooted grows more perfectly with us than the red. In New

Jersey they are largely raised, and of a good quality. Thirty years

ago, sweet potatoes were a luxury on any Northern table: now they

are in daily use when in season; but to find them in the greatest

perfection we must still go South for them. The young leaves and tender

shoots are sometimes boiled as _greens_, and are pronounced quite

wholesome.

In California, sweet potatoes grow to an immense size, often weighing

four or five pounds, and sometimes eight or ten.

The _Jerusalem Artichoke_ grows in clusters of tubers, something like

the potato. It is a native of Brazil. It was brought to England and was

much in use there before it was superseded by the common potato. It was

called the Canada potato, to distinguish it from the common kind, then

known as the Virginia potato. It is wholesome and nutritious, but not

dry and mealy. The plants are extremely productive and once started it

is difficult to eradicate them from the soil; they are said to be an

excellent food for horses and hogs. _Girasole_, not _Jerusalem_, should

be the term. That is the Italian name for _sunflower_, which this

artichoke resembles in many particulars, and to which it is in some

degree akin, but not at all to the _artichoke_ proper, which is a plant

brought from the Mediterranean. The flower-head before blossoming is

the part eaten, boiled plain and eaten with melted butter and pepper,

like spinach and other greens. The bottoms are also sometimes boiled in

milk and eaten, and sometimes pickled. The French fry them and use them

in various ways, sometimes raw as salads.

The _Yam_ also resembles the common potato. It is extensively grown in

the East and West Indies, and in Africa and America. It is sweeter and

firmer than the potato, grows flat, about a foot long, and sometimes

divided like fingers. One variety, called the hinged yam, often grows

three feet long and weighs twenty or thirty pounds. When raw, like the

potato, the juice is acrid and not healthful, but boiling destroys all

harmful properties. A favorite dish is prepared from it in the tropics,

combined with grated cocoa-nut and the pulp of the banana.

LV.

CABBAGE.

IN this chapter we have something to say of an old familiar friend, the

_Cabbage_, which for ages has been one of the most useful of all our

vegetables, being very productive, and, for many persons, nutritious

and healthful. It is found growing wild on the cliffs in many parts

of the southern coasts of England; but these do not very closely

resemble the large, vigorous vegetable we see on our farms and in our

gardens. There it is dwarfed, not weighing more than an ounce, with

a few feeble leaves. Even in this state it is sometimes gathered and

eaten for greens, but is not very tempting. Although thus found wild

on the southern British coast, the numerous kinds now under careful

cultivation, in almost all our large farms or market-gardens, are

the results of many experiments made by scientific and enterprising

agriculturists. It was also largely cultivated and improved in other

countries long before its use was understood in England. It was a

common product among the Romans, and although they were lawless

and ambitious in their inroads upon the surrounding nations, their

conquests, with all the attending evils, were conducive of many good

results; for wherever their armies went, they left behind new arts

and habits, tending toward a larger civilization than is commonly the

result of wars. Many fruits, roots, and vegetables, unknown in Spain,

Germany, and England, were brought by the conquering Romans into

general use among these nations.

The Saxons used cabbage under the name of kale, and it is still so

called in Scotland. For a long time it was the only vegetable known

in that country, but there is no end to the kinds now in use, and the

varieties are multiplied yearly by the experiments and skill of the

producers. With some persons it is not easy of digestion when cooked,

but when cut up raw and used as a salad there is hardly anything more

wholesome or palatable than the cabbage. Some chemists assert that it

contains an oil which is injurious, unless, when cooking, the cabbage

is boiled in two waters. However that may be, we know that this

vegetable is far more delicate and tempting, if, after boiling about

half an hour, the water is poured off, and clear boiling water added,

in which the cabbage is cooked till done. With that precaution, aside

from being nicer, it is not half as liable to produce disagreeable

effects.

The _Borecole_, or _kale_ proper, as now understood, differs from the

common cabbage in having long, curly, wrinkled leaves, more like the

original wild plant, only larger and of thicker growth, never forming

into a close, solid head. They are very hardy, and furnish most

excellent winter greens; and if the leaves and stalks are blanched,

are greatly improved and very delicate. These _kales_ are improved by

frost. The Scotch or German _kale_, or _cualis_ (curly greens), is

used in immense quantities in Britain. The buda and the Russian kale

are much less common. The buda is considered a great delicacy when

blanched; the sprouts, and not the heart, being the most desirable. We

have never seen it in our markets, but should think it might be brought

to great perfection in our country, and be a very desirable addition to

our numerous sorts of cabbage. The Coleya oil, so much in use in France

for lamps, is made from the seeds of one kind of _kale_, and we think

we have been told it is from the buda.

The Portuguese cabbage, from Tranzuda, is extensively cultivated

abroad, and we see not why that also cannot be introduced here. It is

said to be peculiarly tender and delicate, and destitute of the coarse

rank taste of our common kinds. The heart is the preferable part; the

mid-rib or stalk being used after the green parts are cut off only as

greens. We wonder that some enterprising Yankee has not brought it into

our markets.

The _Palm kale_ and the _Cow-cabbage_ are cultivated in Jersey, and

other of the Anglo-Norman isles, as food for cattle. The leaves of both

grow to a great height, from twelve to fifteen feet. It is the outer

leaf that is fed to the cattle; the heart of the bud is quite tender,

and when cooked is good and nutritious.

The close-headed cabbage has many varieties,--the _white_ and the _red

drum-head_, _sugar-loaf_, _Savoy_, etc. These are raised from the seed,

and should be sowed the year before they are wanted, for large heads.

While young, or the first year, if cooked at all it is as greens, or

cabbage _coleworts_. Such as are not kept for growth the second year

are pulled up, root and all, and thus sent to market to keep them

from withering. The roots are cut off by the cook just before using.

Some, when the head is half formed, are gathered for summer cabbage;

but if left till fall the head becomes hard and firm, and late in the

season they are pulled up and stored, or buried in the ground. Such as

are needed for summer sprouts or coleworts are left in the ground all

winter, and are ready early, with the nice new shoots for the spring

market.

The red cabbage makes a fine pickle, and is the kind most used by the

Germans for _sauerkraut_, though almost any variety will answer. The

dwarf red is much used abroad for stewing.

The _Savoys_ have leaves much more curly than the other varieties,

and the middle part of their firm heads is excellent for boiling, and

particularly fine for _cole_, or cold slaw, or _kohl slaw_, as the

Germans term it. The dwarf and the yellow Savoy will stand the frost.

The Brussels sprouts are something like the Savoy, but grow often three

or four feet high. The sprouts form in little, delicate heads all the

way up. The top of the stalk is more solid, and it is that which is

like the Savoy.

The _Cauliflower_ and _Broccoli_ are among the most desirable of

the cabbage tribe, and bring a higher price than any. The former is

probably a native of the island of Cyprus, and the broccoli is said

to have been introduced into Holland and England from Italy, in the

seventeenth century. They are quite similar in habit and taste, but the

broccoli will bear the frost and cold better than the cauliflower. Both

are very great favorites and very delicate.

The leaves of all kinds of cabbage decay very early, and are then

exceedingly offensive. They should never be allowed to remain in the

cellar or lie about the house, as they are very injurious to the

health. The water in which cabbage is boiled is also offensive and

unhealthy, and should be poured into drains where it will the soonest

pass off.

Our farmers often feed the outside leaves of cabbage to their cattle.

All very well if they do not give them to their _milch cows_. Many of

our dairymen will not believe that cabbage or turnips injure the flavor

of milk or butter, but we think their taste must be greatly perverted

if they fail to detect the flavor at once.

LVI.

PULSE.

MANY of the most useful and important of farinaceous or mealy kinds of

vegetables are known under the name of _pulse_. All the large varieties

of the _bean_, _pea_, _lentil_, _tare_, and _vetch_ belong to this

family.

The _Vetch_ and _Tare_ are chiefly used for cattle; very seldom in this

country or England are they seen on our tables, even among the poorest

class of people; but the _lentil_, a kind of bean, is greatly esteemed

among the French and Germans, and, when properly and carefully prepared

and seasoned, is more highly esteemed by them than the common pea and

bean. They consider the flavor better, and the vegetable itself more

nourishing. In France it is extensively used for seasoning soups, but

in England and America is not much known except as food for cattle.

Next to nuts and fruits, all kinds of pulse were important articles of

food in the earlier ages, for it required little labor and skill to

produce or raise them. When fresh and tender, many kinds of pulse can

be employed in cooking, particularly for soups, and many that we know

nothing of except through books, would flourish in our climate, both

North and South, and might be profitably cultivated. Year by year we

find something new in our agricultural catalogues, as well as in the

horticultural and floral.

_Peas_ and _Beans_ when dried are less digestible and healthful than

when eaten green, as the skin becomes hard, and unless removed, as it

can be by rubbing through a sieve for soups, will, with many people,

produce flatulency, constipation, and often severe colic. But green

or dried, almost every sort of pulse will furnish excellent food for

most of our domestic animals, and is also considered very desirable to

alternate with other crops, for, if corn or grain is raised year after

year, on the same piece of land, it will in a short time wear out the

soil; but pulse does not impoverish the land, and therefore may be

grown on fields that require rest from more exhausting crops.

We learn that the time of the discovery of peas and beans has not been

satisfactorily ascertained, but they were in early times extensively

cultivated, especially the _pea_, in India, China and Japan, although

evidently not a native of any of the extreme warm climates. When the

English were besieging a castle in Lathian, in 1299, they were well

pleased to supply their exhausted stores with this kind of pulse,

which grew in that vicinity abundantly, and doubtless, on learning its

nutritious properties, gladly introduced it into their own country.

During Queen Elizabeth’s reign, her table was supplied with peas from

Holland; fit food, says one of the writers of that time, for royal

ladies, because “it was brought so far and cost so dear.”

Now, under careful and more enlightened culture, the varieties of peas

raised in this country and throughout Europe are numerous. To speak

of them all and of the whole family of pulse would require a volume.

But much depends on the section in which the different varieties are

raised, for, as with most kinds of produce, that which in one locality

would prove most excellent, when transferred to another will become

quite inferior.

The _Chick-pea_ is small and not very digestible. It will not boil

soft, but, like some of the lentils, is parched, and in Egypt and

Syria sold in the shops to travellers, by whom it is greatly esteemed,

because while passing through the deserts it occupies little room and

needs no preparation. Youmans says that it will sustain more life,

weight for weight, than any other kind of food, and that peas and

beans are ranked first among the concentrated, strength-imparting food;

but although strength-giving, we do not think it easily digested,

unless eaten while fresh and tender, and cooked with care. Some kinds

of peas are prepared by the Chinese as a _vegetable cheese_.

It would be useless to attempt to mention the best varieties of either

peas or beans. Some seek for the earliest, some the largest or most

prolific. In selecting, it is always wise to go to some intelligent

seedsman, keeping a large assortment of all kinds of seeds, and learn

his opinion; then, from the information thus obtained, decide which

variety will best meet your wishes and locality. Some kinds of peas,

like the string bean, have the pod and seed cut up and cooked together.

The _Turnip_ was introduced into England from Hanover. It now

grows wild in many parts of England, but the wild kind cannot, by

cultivating, be brought up to the excellency of our garden and farm

turnip. The turnip tops are brought into market for _greens_. The

medium-sized roots are better than the largest, which are liable to

become corky or spongy.

The _Carrot_ was brought to England by Flemish refugees, during the

reign of Elizabeth, and the leaves were in great demand by her court

ladies as ornaments for the hair. The ladies of the present day are

not satisfied to use it for that purpose, but by putting a root into

a glass of water, and hanging in a window, in a few weeks they have

a pretty, graceful window ornament, as young leaves will start out

and form a green ball, very delightful to the eye in mid-winter.

Both turnips and carrots are largely used on the table, and are very

desirable to season soups or stews, or garnish fancy dishes. The carrot

makes a very good pie, and with a judicious use of eggs and cream can

be made quite palatable. When boiled and prepared for the table, the

young and tender roots should be selected, as when large or old they

become woody and fibrous. The carrot is excellent food for horses and

cows. Unlike the turnip, it imparts no unpleasant taste to the milk,

and is, therefore, very desirable for winter feed. The carrot contains

a much larger proportion of sugar than most of the esculent roots; a

large quantity of spirits can be distilled from it, and it is sometimes

used instead of malt for beer.

The _Parsnip_ is also a native of Britain, and largely used, not only

for soups and garnishing dishes, but as a vegetable; or, dipped in a

batter of butter, flour, and white of eggs, it is fried a delicate

brown, and sent to the table as a side-dish. During Lent, it is much

eaten with fish. It is even sweeter than the carrot,--much too sweet

to please all tastes. Like the carrot, it is excellent in soups, and

is sometimes made into bread. A kind of wine, said to resemble the

Malmsley wine of Madeira, can be made from the parsnip. In Ireland,

they brew it with hops, and make what they consider an agreeable drink.

Parsnips and potatoes, in Scotland, are often beaten up with butter,

and a nice dish for children prepared from them.

The varieties of the _Onion_ tribe are more widely spread over the

whole world than any other article of food. The _onion_, _leek_,

_chive_, _garlic_, and _shallot_ are the kinds in most universal use.

In Egypt and many parts of Africa, it is noted for its very delicate

taste, being less pungent and the odor less offensive than those raised

with us. Two thousand years before Christ, it had, in the estimation

of the Egyptians, some mysterious signification, and was worshipped by

them as possessing wonderful efficacy. The onion is much pleasanter

for food or seasoning in warm climates than with us. Those raised in

Spain, Portugal, and Strasburg are famous for their great delicacy.

They are everywhere used, cooked, raw, or made into salads. When eaten

raw the odor imparted to the breath is exceedingly disagreeable, and,

even cooked or prepared in salads, is not at all pleasant. It is said

that chewing a little raw parsley will remove this annoyance, or a few

kernels of roasted coffee, but we have never known anything but time

and abstinence that did remedy the evil. It is to be regretted that it

should be so, for they would otherwise be great favorites with all, and

are, no doubt, very wholesome.

The _Leek_ is more used in Switzerland and Scotland,--indeed, in all

cold, mountainous regions, both on account of its being hardy, and

because its exceeding pungency is a recommendation in these cold

regions. It is a very important ingredient in two Scotch dishes that

were the noted favorites of King James I., the “Cock-a-leekie” and

“Haggis.” They claim in Wales and Scotland that the leek was brought to

them by St. David. The blanched stem is the best for soups and stews,

and is more esteemed in France than with us.

The _Chive_ is a native of Britain and France. It is sometimes found

wild in the pastures, and, if eaten by cows, imparts a very offensive

taste to the milk. It is milder than the onion or leek. The leaves

are the part used for broths and soups, and in some kinds of omelets,

especially in France, it is thought to be indispensable. With us, it is

more frequently found in the dishes at restaurants and hotels than at

our private tables.

The _Garlic_ is the most offensive of the onion tribe. It grows

naturally in Sicily and the South of France, and from there found its

way into Britain and America. It is very little used with us, but is

found at almost all tables in Italy, though the root is only boiled to

season soups and other dishes, and removed as soon as it has imparted a

sufficiently strong flavor.

The _Shallot_ grows wild in Palestine, and was introduced into England

by the Crusaders. It is still more pungent in taste than the garlic,

but not as offensive. Used in pickles, soups, and made dishes.

The _Rosambole_ is a native of Denmark. It partakes of the character of

both the garlic and the shallot, and is used in a similar manner.

LVII.

POT-HERBS AND SALADS.

THE number of plants and vegetables that are of excellent quality, and

can be profitably cultivated for purposes of pot-herbs and salads, are

so numerous that we can only mention the names, with here and there an

item, that we may rouse the young housekeeper’s curiosity sufficiently

to tempt her to search for their full history herself and we hope lead

others to do the same.

In Burr’s “Field and Garden Vegetables of America,” is a “full

description of nearly eleven hundred species and varieties, with

directions for propagation, culture, and use.” Among them are many

species and varieties which make excellent salads and greens.

The _Leaf-beet_ is much esteemed. The leaf is used for greens. The rib,

which is called Swiss _chard_, is cut out, boiled, and dressed like

asparagus, which it resembles in taste. There are five varieties, of

which the silver-leaf is the best.

Three varieties of the _Nightshade_--the white from East India, the

large-leafed China malabar, and the red malabar from China--furnish a

desirable addition to our pot-herbs. The juice from the fruit of the

red variety supplies a beautiful color, but is not permanent. The

black, or deadly nightshade, is poisonous.

The _Nettle_, of which only one kind is mentioned, will grow anywhere

spontaneously, but is, in many places, largely cultivated, and is

excellent for greens. The young, tender buds or shoots are nipped off

as they appear, and will shoot out again very rapidly. By being put

into a green or forcing-house, it furnishes a good substitute for

cabbage, colewort, or winter spinach. If placed near a flue in the

hot-house in winter, it will supply excellent nettle-kale all through

the winter. Lawson says: “The merits of this generally accounted

troublesome plant have been quite overlooked. Aside from the food it

can supply, the stalk is quite fibrous, and may be made into ropes and

cordage and good thread; besides a white, beautiful linen-like cloth

can be manufactured from it, but it has never been cultivated for that

purpose. It is an Asiatic plant.”

_Spinach_ is one of the most important of this class of edibles. It

grows wild in England. Flanders supplies us with some of the cultivated

kinds. The _orache_, or mountain spinach, is quite hardy and very good.

It is a native of Tartary, and was brought into England by Sir John

Banks.

The _Quinoa_, a native of Mexico, is easily cultivated here. The leaves

are used like spinach. The seeds in some places are made to take the

place of corn or wheat for bread, and are excellent food for poultry.

The English and Irish _Sea-beet_ are much liked in some places, and are

easily cultivated.

The _Shepherd’s-purse_ tastes somewhat like cabbage, but is much

more delicate. That which is raised and marketed in Philadelphia is

wonderfully juicy, and the leaf grows quite large.

Of the salad plants, _Celery_ stands among the first. It is a native of

England, and has many varieties, too numerous to mention here.

_Lettuce_ is an Asiatic plant, and, like celery, is an important and

almost indispensable article in preparing chicken, lobster, or other

mixed salads. It is also eaten plain with simply salt or dressed with

vinegar, sugar, and oil; or, what is better still, a few drops of

vinegar, with sugar and rich cream.

The _Endive_, a native of China and Japan, is largely cultivated in

America, and by many considered one of the best autumn, winter, and

early spring salads.

_Corn-salad_, brought from the South of France and Europe, is sometimes

boiled or cooked like spinach; but usually the young leaves are dressed

for salad, and in winter and early spring are excellent.

_Cress_, or pepper-grass, belongs to Persia, but is largely raised

here; eaten as a salad, either separately or mixed with lettuce or

celery. The varieties are quite numerous.

_Horse-radish_ and _Mustard_ are from Europe. The young tips are

sometimes mixed with other greens, and their natural pungency adds

quite a pleasant flavor to less highly spiced pot-herbs.

The _Nasturtium_ is from Peru. The seeds make a pickle almost equal to

the caper, and the young shoots furnish a fine, pungent salad; and in

all its many varieties it is a pretty garden ornament.

The _Purslain_, _Rape_, and _Rocket_ are natives of Europe.

The _Samphire_ is used as a seasoning for salads. _Tarragon_, from

Siberia, is also put in salads for seasoning, and much used steeped in

vinegar for dressings of various kinds.

_Valeriana_, as a salad, is by some thought more desirable than

corn-salad, and is likewise a very beautiful garden ornament.

All these and many more can be grown in our own country, and most of

them with very little trouble. Interesting statements respecting them

can be found in most of the agricultural books, which are well worth

reading.

LVIII.

MISTAKES IN COOKING VEGETABLES.

FRESH vegetables, properly prepared, are among the most important

articles of food. They mostly abound in saline substances that are

indispensable to the maintenance of a healthy condition of the whole

system; but to secure the blessings they were designed to yield,

everything depends on their being freshly gathered and carefully cooked.

It is very difficult to obtain freshly gathered vegetables when one

is obliged to depend on the city markets for them. In this, as in

many other things, our farmers, and those who can afford even a small

vegetable garden, have far more to be thankful for than those whose

home is in the city, and whose tastes and desires extend no farther;

for although to those who heartily relish the summer productions, stale

vegetables may be better than none, yet the use of them is always an

unsafe experiment, making easy victims for the many diseases incident

to the summer; whereas we imagine a reasonable prodigality in eating

most of the summer vegetables and fruits, when they can be had every

day fresh from the garden, is peculiarly conducive to the enjoyment of

sound health.

Then, as regards the cooking of the many kinds of vegetables that are

desirable only when fresh, it must be remembered that many sorts have

a large proportion of woody tissues, which require a suitable degree

of heat by which they can be softened or decomposed before they may be

eaten with impunity. That done, and the acid which is found in almost

all esculent vegetables becomes an essential assistance to sound

digestion, as it tends to strengthen and give tone to the stomach.

_Hard water_ is often recommended for cooking many kinds of vegetables,

but we know of none that are improved, and many that are injured by it.

Beans and peas, for instance, are injured by boiling in hard water,

whereas if soft water is used the skin softens, loses its huskiness,

and these delicate vegetables become highly nutritious.

A little soda is used by many cooks in preparing vegetables; but it is

only when one is so unfortunate as to be unable to procure soft water

to cook with that we think it can be tolerated. To be sure, it secures

a fine green with some articles, such as peas and beans, and makes them

very tender, but this is gained at the expense of all sweetness and

natural flavor.

A few rules for gathering and preparing vegetables in the country may

be given, which, if carefully observed, will secure their being brought

to the table in an excellent condition, and eaten without one murmur of

dissatisfaction.

First, be sure that they were raised from the best of seed. It is

useless to expect good vegetables unless they spring from the most

perfect and best variety of seed. “Do men gather grapes of thorns or

figs of thistles?” Those who cultivate but a few acres simply for

family use, having learned the importance of choosing their seed with

care, are every year becoming more and more particular in their search

for the finest varieties. More depends on this than farmers have been

accustomed to think; but seeing what can be done by amateur gardeners

through care, and reading the success of other experiments, they are

giving much more attention to this than was customary in former years.

The result is, that there is no longer any excuse for having a poor

article brought either from your own garden or the market. It is the

length of time it has been gathered, and the manner in which it has

been prepared, that determines its excellence.

All vegetables are injured by lying exposed to sun and rain; but corn,

peas, fresh beans, asparagus, and lettuce become perfectly worthless.

They should be gathered while the dew is yet on them, brought to the

house, and placed at once in a cool place where the sun will not strike

upon them. It is better to leave corn in the husk, peas and beans in

the pods, until it is time to prepare them for cooking. Then watch

that they are not left long in water, if, indeed, you cannot avoid

washing them entirely. Corn when taken from the husk needs no washing;

simply remove all the silk. If there is a black or rusty spot on an

ear of corn, reject it entirely; it shows the beginning of disease. It

improves a mess of peas, adding greatly to their sweetness, to boil

the _pods_, after shelling, about fifteen minutes in the water you are

about to boil the peas in. For this purpose, you must pour cold water

over the pods, to remove any dust or minute bugs that may be upon them;

wash quickly, and then leave them to drain before shelling. The peas,

of course, after this need no washing, neither do beans. Asparagus

should be washed quickly, to remove all dust; but must on no account be

left in the water a moment after it is clean. As soon as washed, put in

a cullender to drain, and then over the stove to cook as soon as you

can. All vegetables should be laid in the saucepan in which they are

to be cooked, with sufficient salt to season sprinkled over them; then

_boiling_ water poured on, and the whole brought to a boil immediately,

else they become of a brownish color and look very uninviting. The

salt, either put on them first or the water salted before they are put

in, prevents the color changing. Then boil, or, what is better, _steam_

them for the proper time,--twenty minutes for asparagus, peas, and corn

is long enough, never over thirty minutes; when so old as to need

longer cooking, they are too old to use at all. Beans require longer

time, unless very young; from three quarters of an hour to an hour will

be necessary.

Very few vegetables, comparatively, are as digestible raw as when

cooked; those used for salads, such as celery, lettuce, cabbage,

etc., are exceptions. Some which when raw are quite poisonous can, by

skillful boiling, be transformed into our most nutritious and easily

digested food; yet the attempt to cook them is too often made in

such a careless and reckless way that, although whatever poison they

contain when raw is dispelled, the mode of cooking makes them about as

injurious to the health as the poison could have been,--half raw or

overcooked till they are clammy or sodden, or cooked with salt and fat

meat until their whole nature seems changed,--requiring a stomach like

that of an ostrich to digest them.

The _potato_, when raw, is not only unpalatable and injurious, but is

supposed to be really poisonous, while proper cooking changes it to one

of the most palatable and healthful of all vegetables.

The _bitter cassava_ is so deadly when raw that the Indians use the

juice to poison their arrows; but when grated and pressed, to remove

the juice, it is subjected to a heat which destroys all that is unsafe,

and then we have the tapioca, so much prized for table use, and which

is regarded by many physicians as far more digestible for infants than

arrowroot; but the _sweet cassava_, from which bread is made, is, even

when raw, free from all harmful qualities. The _wake-robin_, from which

sago is made, is so poisonous that the juice will blister the hand; but

like the cassava, when roasted or boiled, is entirely free from all

injurious qualities, and is, after being thus cooked, made into sago.

In many of our “cook-books” _mint_ is recommended for seasoning various

kinds of vegetables, but we do not believe a good vegetable can be

improved by anything that destroys the true natural taste. Peas may be

much improved, we think, by boiling the pods, after washing them in

clear soft water, about fifteen minutes; then strain the water from

the pods, bring it to a boil, add some salt to keep the peas green,

and use as much as is needed to boil the peas themselves in. It gives

them all the sweetness that the pod contains, which is sufficiently

near the flavor of the pea not to impart any unnatural taste. A little

cream may be added with the butter, pepper, and salt required to dress

them, although we think the little water that is needed to cook them

(and it should be _very little_) is far better. When we see a little

_mint_ advised to “give a fine flavor,” we have no objection to others

enjoying it, but confess we think it a perverted taste.

Peas, beans, asparagus, corn, and potatoes should be either steamed

or cooked in as little water as can be used without burning them; and

to dress the first three, some of the water in which they are boiled

should be used; then, in helping them out, if any prefer them dry, it

is very easy to take them from the dish free from liquor.

Another great mistake consists in allowing most kinds of vegetables

to cook too long. Some require much longer time to cook than others,

but all need careful watching. Beets, turnips, carrots, parsnips,

etc., need considerable cooking; but if you go beyond a certain point

they become watery or sodden, and lose half their excellence or are

completely ruined. Peas, corn, and potatoes should require but little

time to be cooked sufficiently. When young, peas and corn do not

require over fifteen or twenty minutes; as they become larger or attain

their full growth, thirty minutes may be needed; if more than that,

they are no longer fit to use, except for soups or meal.

Peas, beans, asparagus, and lettuce are often injured by being washed

too much, or by being left soaking in water. Wash as little and as

quickly as possible; drain, then cover up the dish, and put them in a

cool place out of the sun till ready to cook. Lettuce, particularly,

will be far more crisp and tender if, after washing and picking it over

carefully, it is laid on ice till needed.

LIX.

DIVIDED FAMILY GOVERNMENT.

“I HAVE a family of young children, naturally amiable and obedient,

who, while very young, seldom needed even slight punishment; but as

they grow older wants and wills are thickening, and, occasionally,

natural perversity and willfulness are manifested which sometimes

require restraint. The mother’s heart would shield her children from

such denials or demands as the father sees is necessary to their proper

education and future happiness. Her tenderness warps her judgment, and

too frequently her speech and action stand opposed to mine. Hence the

question must often arise, if she cannot control her words and feelings

in the presence of the children and servants, how far am I bound, in

view of the future well-being of our offspring, to push my authority,

and, as the father and head of the house, insist upon her yielding to

my judgment without such opposition; and if I am compelled peremptorily

to insist upon her silence, when I am attempting to control our

children, what is her duty?”

These questions, which have been addressed to us, are full of interest;

and the answer, if given simply from the first impressions derived

from the perusal of the letter, without mature deliberation, would

seem comparatively easy. But a few moments’ careful reflection will

suffice to show that, looked at in all the various aspects necessary

to form a thoroughly correct judgment, it is a very intricate and

important subject, for which no one general rule can be made to meet

the necessities of all. The happiness of the family, as a whole, and

the future welfare of the children, require a united government;

but, unfortunately, we do not see it to any wide extent. Children,

who should be a bond of union, are too often the cause of dissension

and division. If the father is stern, arbitrary, and unreasonable in

dealing with the little ones, a judicious mother, who has suffered

for them and watched over them by day and by night from their birth,

naturally shrinks from the effects which severity or irritability must

have on their young and tender minds, knowing, in almost every case,

that gentleness and love will soften the heart and secure obedience,

while coldness and harshness will harden, and provoke rebellion.

Or, perhaps, on the other hand, the father is loving and tender, yet

firm; fully aware that foolish and injudicious indulgence, although for

the present gratifying, will in the end work out, not the peaceable

fruits of righteousness, but, for the children, years of sin and

sorrow; for the parents, wretchedness, tribulation, and anguish. With

a father whose constant thought is to seek the best interest of his

children, even though it can be obtained only at the expense of some

self-denial, if the mother co-operates, the training of their family

will be a labor full of love and gladness. When both parents see eye to

eye, and seek God’s blessing on every step, they may rest assured that

their children, thus led in the way they should go, will, in mature

age, rise up and call them blessed.

It is very strange that parents, with so many examples which should

on the one hand warn them against over-indulgence, and on the other

encourage them in the administration of all needed discipline, should

not learn to avoid disputes or discussion in the presence of their

families. When they so far forget their children’s best interests as

to wrangle and dispute whenever a case of discipline is necessary,

and allow children and servants to hear and see the whole, they not

only lose the respect of those who should naturally look to them for

guidance and help, but, more than all, they do lasting injury to those

whom they should protect and love. One or two specimens of divided

counsels and the mischief is done. Children are quick to observe; they

turn to the parent who they learn will be most ready to hide their

faults or overlook their short-comings for help to escape punishment,

or to secure the gratification of every childish whim; but they soon

learn to care little for either parent, for the selfish love of a child

who has lost respect and reverence for father or mother is of little

value. If the father commands and the mother, openly or privately,

cancels the injunction, or the mother permits an indulgence and the

father revokes the permission, the child will soon become angry and

stubborn; and even if not daring to utter reproach and insolence

openly, the spirit of bitterness and revolt is aroused. If parents were

seeking to destroy their children, they could scarcely find any means

so well calculated to accomplish the object. But the mischief does not

end here; the parents themselves become embittered by such dissensions.

Sometimes it leads to disputes and quarrels, and sometimes to

partisanship; and thus the child’s selfishness, jealousy, and mercenary

nature are cultivated. In such divided households better far are early

deaths than life and health for children that must otherwise grow up

under such malign influences.

If parents cannot see alike, in matters of family government, then

they should agree between themselves on some compromise; but in the

presence of their children, these differences ought never to be

mentioned. Even if one parent is mistaken, it is better far to pass the

mistake by, unnoticed, than that a dispute should arise, or that the

other parent should interfere in the presence of servants or children.

In almost all such cases there is blame on both sides; but, right or

wrong, it is better that one should yield instantly and let the other

decide, for the time being, than to attempt to right the wrong in the

presence of any one, particularly in that of children. It is not hard

to do this; and, O parents! if you truly love each other, it should be

very sweet and easy kindly and unselfishly to discuss the matter under

consideration; but let the husband dismiss during the discussion all

idea of _authority_. It is an ugly word between husband and wife at all

times; and in the endeavor to settle a disputed point, if you seek for

any good results, keep it as far out of sight as possible. Go to your

wife in the same spirit that influenced you while wooing her, and speak

with the same tenderness; we think words thus spoken will be like oil

on the troubled waters, and bring you into closer and more harmonious

union than any _commands_ can do.

But while settling any disputed point with regard to the management of

children, it should be constantly remembered by the father that, of

necessity, the mother must have more to do with their early years, and

can hardly fail to understand their peculiarities better than he can

do. It is only a few moments at a time that the father can spend with

them, while the mother must watch over them hourly, providing for all

their constantly recurring wants. To her belongs, naturally, the care

of their health and early habits; to her the watching and weariness in

times of sickness, and the harassing toil of nursing them through the

fretful period of convalescence, back to soundness and vigor.

In the few hours the father’s business allows him to spend with his

family, he may be able to see the weak points more clearly than the

mother can do, who must be always with them. He may see plainly how, at

times, she weakly yields to their caprices, allowing herself to become

a slave to them, often because too weary to be firm. This is the time

when his love, tenderness, and sympathy for his wife, the mother of

his children, should be most earnestly manifested; when he can prove

which is the stronger, which better fitted to be the true head of the

house. These weaknesses, from whatever cause they spring, should not be

noticed before the little despots; when alone, the husband, with the

greatest kindness and gentleness, can show his wife how such indulgence

will lay the foundation for much present trouble, and perhaps for

a corrupt and disgraceful future. If she has good sense, and he,

with unselfish desire for the good of all, does not seek by arrogant

dictation to set himself above her, we can hardly imagine a wife and

mother who would not earnestly endeavor to make the necessity of such

appeals very unfrequent.

But if the mother is frivolous and self-indulgent, too weak and

indolent to take up the cross of refusing childish, unreasonable

importunities, for the glory that shall crown her when, by her

firmness, her children have become noble men and women,--then, God help

her who can thus lay the ax to the root of all domestic happiness!

For the husband and father to push his authority or command silence

with the children at home, constantly exposed to such influences, can

do no good; it only increases the difficulty. We know of no better or

surer way to save the children than to remove them from home and a weak

mother’s cruel indulgence, and place them in some school where health

and morals may be carefully watched over, but one sufficiently strict

to save them from the evils of too great indulgence. This is a hard

task; but it has saved many children whose parents, either one or both,

were too foolishly tender or too cruelly indolent to control them, as

God has commanded, in their early years.

LX.

HOW CAN WE SECURE GOOD SERVANTS?

MANY inquiries reach us, both from city and country, as to the best

and most certain way to secure, if not the best, at least tolerably

good servants. It is a question impossible to answer with any degree of

certainty. The very best managers, the kindest and most conscientious,

are no more sure of being suited than those who work without method,

and are not governed by the law of kindness.

“Where shall we apply when searching for help?” is a question that is

asked very frequently, and is equally impossible to answer. Some say,

“Advertise.” The next will give you such a history of her trials from

advertising, as will most effectually frighten you from that mode of

help-seeking. But they will tell you to go to one intelligence office,

and, if that fails, refer you to the next best. Another will say,

as we should, that of all places an intelligence office is the most

disheartening and the least reliable of any.

A lady in the country, with a large family, who is so happy as to

have two grown-up daughters for her chief assistants, is desirous of

“obtaining a raw German or English girl, hoping to be able to train her

to do general housework properly,” and inquires where she must apply

to obtain such a one, “right from the ship,” before a week or two of

idleness has taught her the “ways and the manners” of those who have

been in this country longer.

We have very little experience with what are called “greenhorns,” or

girls right from the emigrant ships, though we doubt if they can be any

more ignorant or half so unmanageable as many of the girls who have

been in America for years.

The emigrant ships which come to New York land their passengers at

Castle Garden. “The Labor Bureau of the Commissioners of Emigration” is

under the supervision of Eugene Casserly, and we are told by reliable

authority, that unless friends have secured employment for them before

they reach our shores, their names, if they come seeking work, are

registered in an intelligence office there. For any one proposing to

seek servants from among those just landed, it may be well to go to

that office, when these ships first land their passengers, and endeavor

to form as correct a judgment as is possible, before actual trial. We

are also told that some little conversation with the officers of the

ship will sometimes make the selection easier or more satisfactory.

During the tedious passage the officers have many opportunities of

seeing their passengers under circumstances that can, if they choose

to notice, enable them to form a reasonably correct idea of their

character and capacities; though we fear that officers on board

emigrant ships seldom give much heed to those under their care.

_A reader_ inquires “if it would be safe for a young housekeeper to

attempt to train a ‘raw recruit,’ and, if so, from which of all the

countries whose people flock to our land we would advise her to seek

for a good, reliable servant.”

It requires much patience and no small degree of skill to take a girl

from another country, whose whole life and associations have been

entirely different from our own, and bring her into a new life by

teaching her to forget all her early habits and modes of working. It is

a great and uncommon gift to be able to do this with patient kindness,

and yet with such authority as insures obedience. Success in such an

undertaking is a blessing both to the teacher and the pupil. Now and

then we find one who, under such teaching and benevolent guidance, has

fully repaid all the thought and care which has been bestowed upon her,

and who, by her fidelity and unwearied energy, has won the love and

grateful appreciation of all, and is looked upon as the good angel of

the family. But we regret to say such characters are rare; and though,

in some instances, the impatience and irritability of the mistress may

repress much of good which, under better auspices, might have been

developed, yet we do not believe as a general rule that the chief blame

should rest with the mistress. Not one in a hundred--and that we fear

is a high proportion--of all the Irish that come to our country can, by

any amount of care, patience, or indefatigable teaching, be transformed

into a neat, energetic, faithful, truth-telling servant; and as for

gratitude, once in a while you may find one who remembers your faithful

teaching, your kindness and care in times of sickness or trouble, who

cannot be turned from her fidelity and attachment to you; but for the

most part all this vanishes like the morning dew, at the first chance

for easier work or higher wages.

The English and Scotch, as far as our observation goes, are more

inclined to make their employers’ interest their own. They labor as

faithfully, and watch with an eye to economy quite as earnestly, when

left in charge alone, as when the master and mistress are near them. Of

course there are exceptions to every rule; and we speak more from our

own experience than from what others say.

The Swiss and Swedes are usually smart and capable; but their inability

to understand our language when they first come to us, makes their

instruction difficult and tedious, unless the mistress is well versed

in foreign languages.

A good Welsh girl is one of the best,--usually neat, active, and quick

to learn; and as the pastors of the Welsh churches hold it a part of

their duty to exercise careful supervision over those under their

charge, that acts as a great safeguard.

There are no better servants to be found than such as come from Canada

and Nova Scotia, _if_ one can secure such as bring from their own

country a genuinely good character. Naturally hardy and industrious,

they are not the kind of girls who begin by asking, “How many in the

family? How large is the washing? Have you stationary wash-tubs? What

privileges do you allow your girls?” But whatever they are told to do,

if within the compass of their ability, they do it more willingly and

cheerfully than most. But there are not a large number of the Swiss,

Swedish, Welsh, or Nova Scotia girls to be had, nor are all who come

to our country of the better sort; so that whichever way we turn for

domestic help, one is almost compelled to feel as if buying tickets in

a lottery.

LXI.

THE GUEST-CHAMBER.

IT is the prevalent opinion among housekeepers that the guest-chamber,

or “spare room,” must, in every respect, be the best and most desirable

chamber in the house. We think this a mistaken idea. Of course the

room should be pleasant and inviting, furnished as tastefully and

with as many conveniences as can be afforded, without curtailing the

comfort and pleasures of the family, and with such regard to comfort

that a guest, on entering, may feel at once not only at home, but

as if surrounded with kindness and thoughtful care. All this can be

accomplished without appropriating the largest and most commodious room

for that purpose. The chambers most used, and, after the sitting-room,

most necessary to the comfort and happiness of the family, to whom the

house is _home_, and not a mere transient stopping-place, should be

the best ventilated, the largest, and most convenient. The mother’s

chamber and the nursery--if there must be two apartments, they should

be separated only by a door, that the mother’s care may be near at

hand--ought to be chosen with reference to the health and enjoyment

of those who are expected to occupy them for years. The “spare room”

should be a secondary consideration, for our guests are but temporary

residents of our rooms, to whom, indeed, must be given all the time

and attention that family cares will allow; while to the permanent

inmates the house is a resting-place from hard labor, a refuge from

outside care for some of the family, and to make it such to husband and

children, the housekeeper has a daily routine of duties which can be

wonderfully lightened by pleasant surroundings. And thus, for reasons

having a bearing on every member of the household, it seems to us very

desirable that more thought, care, and expense be given to secure a

pleasant outlook, a thorough ventilation, and attractive and convenient

furniture for the family rooms, than for the one set apart for those

who, however honored and beloved, can of necessity remain but a few

days.

We would by no means leave the impression that a family should

selfishly retain their regular apartments when so many guests are

present that several rooms are needed. In times of large gatherings it

is very delightful to see each member of the household contribute some

part of his or her rights to the free and cordial entertainment of

friends. On such occasions, if they are not too frequent, it is quite

amusing and conducive to much sport and cheerfulness to meet in family

council and discuss the ways and means that may be employed to stretch

the house, so that twenty people can be comfortably lodged in a space

where usually eight or ten have only sufficient room. This, for a short

time, is no hardship,--it is like a picnic,--and every child, from

its earliest years, should be taught there is a pleasure in giving up

rights, whims, and fancies, connected with its own special apartments,

for the accommodation of others. The lesson is very easily taught, when

they see that this is only a temporary thing; knowing this, when the

pressure abates, they will return to their rooms better prepared to

estimate and appreciate the care and affection which has so pleasantly

consulted their taste and comfort in arranging the apartment which is

set aside for them.

It is painful to glance into rooms in daily use, and see no indication

that a moment’s thought has ever been bestowed upon their adornment,

or to fill them with objects that, to the children’s eyes, will unite

grace and beauty with usefulness for the family’s every-day life.

“O, this will answer! It’s good enough _just for our own family_.”

But look into the guest-chamber, for which enough has been expended

to compel pinching in all that belongs to home and family comforts,

and all for the ostentatious display of hospitality! When you see

such incongruities and contrasts between the furnishing of the family

apartments and the “spare room,” you will find the same rule runs

through everything connected with the family. For every day use the

commonest kind of delf, with odd bits of broken or defaced china,

mismated cups and saucers, of every variety of color, and the food

carelessly prepared, and of the poorest and cheapest quality, showing

the same unwise disregard for family comfort. But let a visitor

appear, and the table is dazzling with silver and cut-glass, and loaded

with dainties over which the utmost skill in cooking has been expended.

This is all wrong. _Home_ should be first, company of secondary

importance. Let your family always have the best you can reasonably

afford; then cordially welcome your friends to share the good and

pleasant things with you. It is not easy to teach children to love

home, and prefer its society to all others, if they see that all the

good and pleasant and beautiful things you possess are only to be used

when you have visitors. You have no right to hope that your children

will have good manners or be refined, if they see only the coarsest of

everything when alone with you, but are called upon, with company, to

put on company manners. Love of home, refinement, and good manners are

blessings that will rust out and be destroyed, if not brightened by

constant daily use.

But we have wandered out of the guest-chamber, and will now return.

Because we urge that the family apartments should have the first claim,

we would not be understood that no thought should be given to the room

your friends will occupy; we only claim that it should not be paramount

to all others. Select the furniture with such care and taste as your

means will allow. It is not necessary that one should be rich to do

this in the most perfect manner. Be sure that the bed is comfortably

made, and at all times scrupulously clean. If used only for _one_ night

by _one_ person, all the linen should be changed for every new-comer.

A white spread, even if not of the best and heaviest, is always an

improvement for any bed. Have a spare blanket neatly folded and laid

across the foot of the bed, unless you have a closet in the room;

then it is a protection from dust to put it there. A low easy-chair

or rocker is always desirable, for a lady friend may bring a young

infant with her; then, if in accordance with, your ability, furnish

easy-chairs or a lounge, but no bedchamber should be crowded with

furniture.

A table with a drawer, or small neat writing-desk, with an inkstand, a

few pens, paper, and envelopes, are desirable, as friends often come

unexpectedly, and neglect to bring the needed articles. To find such

conveniences ready at hand will be taken as a kindly attention, which

is among the little things that make a guest-chamber homelike.

A brush and comb, a cushion and pins, should be kept on every bureau,

and the “spare room” is no exception to this rule. In this room one or

two bureau drawers should be left open for the use of guests. The comb

and brush, like those in other chambers, should be washed every week if

used, or after every new occupant. A few drops of ammonia, put into a

little soap and water, will cleanse a brush easily; rinse well in clear

water, and stand it up to dry. For the washstand, good soap, plenty of

towels, and a nail-brush should be provided. The water-pitcher must be

kept filled; a water-bottle, with a glass turned over it, or a decanter

with a stopper, is better for drinking water than a pitcher, as water

left exposed to the air in a sleeping-room soon becomes impure and

unwholesome. A slop pail or jar is needed by the side of the washstand,

unless the wash-basins are set to be filled from the pipes, and emptied

by the waste-pipe. A match-box, filled, is always an important article

in every room, and a little basket or cornucopia is needed to hang by

the glass, into which the hair from the comb and burnt matches may be

put. This should be emptied when the slops are taken away; but hair

must never be thrown in the sink, as it clogs the pipes; always burn it.

Of course, when there is no necessity for close economy, there are

a thousand elegances with which it is perfectly proper to beautify,

not only the family rooms, but the guest-chamber; but the things

here specified are convenient and some really necessary for all

sleeping-rooms, and can be procured or made by home ingenuity. Beautify

and enrich the guest-room as lavishly as good taste and your ability

will allow, only let the family chamber be not neglected for that

purpose.

LXII.

THE CARE OF INFANTS.

“ARE our little ones so related to household cares, that Mrs. Beecher

will give young mothers, now and then, a few words of instruction on

the management of infants? I am a young _mother_ as well as _young

housekeeper_, and although not very competent, I, and probably many

others, could easier work our way unaided to a respectable standing

in all that pertains to the manual labor of the household, than risk

mistakes in the care and training of our babies. I think the little

ones very necessary to the formation of a true household, and am ready

to accept any care and annoyance, if I may only be certain that I am

not giving my strength for naught, but so that in these early days

I may be enabled to ward off illness, and keep my baby healthy and

vigorous. It is usually happy and quiet; but there are times when

mind and body are taxed to the utmost limit of my endurance. It often

has _spells_ of crying, when no skill which I possess can soothe the

disturbance, whatever may be the cause, or lull the little one to

sleep. In no way, either by medical advice or the exercise of my own

judgment, can I discover the cause, or find any indication which would

show the child to be unhealthy.”