CHINA AND GLASS.

There are few of the minor crooks in the lot of the careful housewife

that cause her more anxiety and more discouragement than the attempt to

teach domestics how to wash up dishes.

“I’ve heard that Mrs. —— is very _exact_ about some things, such as

washing up dishes and the likes of that!” said a woman to me, with an

affected laugh, having called to apply for the then vacant position of

cook in my kitchen. She had high recommendations, a whine engrafted

upon her native brogue, and spoke of me in the third person—a trick of

cheap (and bogus) gentility that tries my nerves and temper to the very

marrow of my spine. “I was a-saying to myself, as I came along, that

Mrs. —— must have been _very_ onlucky in her girls if she had to tache

them how to wash up dishes. I always thought that was one of the things

that came _kinder nat’ral_ to every cook.”

“Mrs. ——’s” experience goes to prove that the wrong way of doing

this must “come natural” to the class mentioned, and that Nature is

mighty in woman. The fact that the right way is _not_ to pile unrinsed

dishes and plates in a big pan with a loose bit of soap on top, and

pour lukewarm water over all; then with a bit of rag to splash said

water over each separately, and make another pile of them upon the

kitchen-table, until the last is drawn, reeking with liquid grease,

sticky and streaming, from the now filthy puddle of diluted swill; then

to rub them lightly and leisurely with one towel—be they many or few—is

as difficult of comprehension to the scullionly mind as would be a

familiar lecture upon the _pons asinorum_.

Yet the right and only neat method is so simple and easy! Rinse the

greasy plates, and whatever is sticky with sugar or other sweet, in hot

water and transfer to a larger pan of _very_ hot. Wash glass first;

next silver; then china—one article at a time, although you may put

several in the pan. Have a mop with a handle; rub upon the soap (over

which the water should have been poured) until you have strong suds.

There is a little implement made by the “Dover Stamping Co.,” a cup

of tinned wire, called a “soap-shaker,” that greatly facilitates this

process of suds-making, without waste of soap. Wash both sides of plate

and saucer, and wipe _before putting it out of your hand_. Draining

leaves streaks which can be felt by sensitive finger-tips, if not seen.

If china is rough to the touch, it is dirty. Hot, clean suds, a dry,

clean towel, and quick wiping leave it bright and shining. Roll your

glasses around in the water, filling them as soon as they touch it, and

you need never crack one. A lady did once explain the dinginess of her

goblets to me by saying that she was “afraid to put them in hot water.

It _rots_ glass and makes it so tender! I prefer to have them a little

cloudy.” This is literally true—that she said it, I mean. Certainly not

that a year’s soak in hot water could make glass tender.

Common Sense in the Household: A Manual of Practical Housewifery · 第 1035 / 1129 题