JACK'S SCHOOL-LUNCHEONS
"Mother," said Jack, one evening, "I'd like to take my lunch to school
for the next few weeks; all the fellows are going to, so we can have
more time for class elections and so on. Do you suppose Norah could put
up one for me every morning?"
"Why not let Mildred put it up? Her school is so near that she does not
have to start till long after you do; and then, Jack, you could easily
pay her for her trouble by helping her with her Latin; you know she is
bothered with that just now."
Mildred was overjoyed at the suggestion of the bargain. "Oh, Jack! I'll
do you up the most beautiful luncheons in the world if you will only
help me with that horrid Caesar. I'm just as stupid as I can be about it.
What do you like best to eat in all the world?"
Jack said he wasn't very particular as long as he had plenty of pie and
cake and pickles and pudding and ice-cream; Mildred laughed, and said
she guessed she could manage to think up a few other things beside.
So the very next morning she put up the first luncheon. But, alas, Norah
had no cold meat to slice--only bits of beefsteak left from dinner; and
not a single piece of cake. All she could find for lunch was some plain
bread and butter, which she cut rather thick, a hard-boiled egg, and an
apple. "Pretty poor," she sighed, as she saw him trudge off with the box
under his arm.
That afternoon, when she came home from school, she went to Mother Blair
for help. "I must give him nice luncheons," she explained. "Now what can
I have for to-morrow? I can't think of anything at all, except bread and
cake, and stupid things like those."
"Oh, there are lots and lots of things," said her mother. "Putting up
lunches is just fun! I only wish you would do up some for me, too! And
first, dear, you had better see that there is plenty of bread, because
it takes a good deal for sandwiches, and it must not be too fresh to
slice nicely, nor too stale; day-old bread is best. And if you can find
some brown bread as well as white, that will be ever so nice. You will
want cake, too, and fruit; you might ask Norah what she has on hand."
In a moment, Mildred came back with the news that, as there was to be
fish for dinner, there would be no left-over meat at all in the morning;
the bits of steak were still there. "But imagine beefsteak sandwiches!"
said she, scornfully. And though there was no cake now, Norah was going
to make some.
"I think we had better learn first how to make all kinds of sandwiches,
because that will help you more than anything else in putting up
lunches," her mother said, getting out her cook-book. "You will need
some paraffin paper for them, too, and paper napkins; suppose you look
on the top shelf of the kitchen closet and see if we had any left over
from summer picnics."
By the time Mildred had found these, as well as a box to pack the lunch
in, these receipts were all ready for her to copy in her own book:
SANDWICHES
Use bread that is at least a day old. Spread the butter smoothly
on the loaf; if it is too cold to spread well, warm it a little;
slice thin, with a sharp knife; spread one slice with the filling,
lay on another, press together, and trim off the heavy part of the
crust; cut in two pieces, or, if the slices are very large, in
three. Put two or three sandwiches of the same kind together, and
wrap in paraffin paper.
MEAT SANDWICHES
Take any cold meat, cut off the gristle and fat, and put it
through the meat chopper. Add a pinch of salt, a pinch of dry
mustard, a shake of pepper, and, last, a teaspoonful of melted
butter; press into a cup, and put away to grow firm.
"Now you see the nice thing about this rule is, that any sort of cold
meat will do to use, and if you have bits of two or more kinds, you can
use them together. There are those beefsteak ends; all you have to do is
to follow your rule, and they will make as good sandwiches as anything
else."
"But, Mother, if you had nice roast-beef slices, you would not chop
those up, would you?"
"No, indeed! I would make sandwiches of plain bread and butter and put
the slices of meat in by themselves. But chopped meat makes better
sandwiches than slices of meat between bread."
"But what do you make sandwiches out of if you don't use meat? I think
plain bread and butter is horrid for lunches."
"Oh, there are plenty of other things to use; see, here are your next
rules:"
EGG SANDWICHES
1 hard-boiled egg, chopped fine.
1 teaspoonful of oil.
3 drops of vinegar.
1 pinch of salt.
1 shake of pepper.
Mix well and spread on buttered bread.
"And then sometimes you can have:"
CHEESE SANDWICHES
Spread thin buttered brown bread with cream cheese; sprinkle with
a very little salt and pepper. Sometimes add chopped nuts for a
change.
"Or, here are these:"
LETTUCE SANDWICHES
Spread some very thin white bread; lay on a leaf of lettuce;
sprinkle with a very little oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper, as in
the egg sandwiches.
SARDINE SANDWICHES
Drain off all the oil from a little tin of sardines; skin each
fish, take out the bones, and mash smoothly, adding a teaspoonful
of lemon juice; spread on white buttered bread.
"And then, when you have no cake or cookies for lunch, you can have two
or three sandwiches with meat and two more like these:"
SWEET SANDWICHES
Spread buttered bread with a very little jam or jelly; or with
chopped dates or figs; or with scraped maple sugar; or with
chopped raisins and nuts; or with a thick layer of brown sugar.
"Those are just as good as cake, and better, I think," said Mother
Blair, as Mildred finished copying them all down. "And now, what comes
next in a lunch, after sandwiches?"
"Cake," said Mildred, promptly.
"Yes, sometimes, but not always. What else can you think of that would
be nice?"
Mildred said she thought gingerbread might be good, or perhaps
doughnuts; but she could not think of anything else.
"Oh, I can think of ever so many things," said her mother. "But we will
put down the gingerbread first; and, by the way, what do you think Betty
calls it? This:"
"PERFECTLY LOVELY" GINGERBREAD
1 cup of molasses.
1 cup of shortening (butter and lard mixed).
3 cups of flour.
1 teaspoonful each of cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and soda.
1 cup of sugar.
2 eggs.
1 cup of milk.
Cream the butter and sugar, add the eggs, well beaten without
separating, then the molasses mixed with the spices and soda, then
the flour, then the milk. Stir and beat well. Put in a shallow tin
and bake slowly.
"Things don't sound as good as they taste, do they?" said Mildred, as
she read the receipt over. "I just love gingerbread, but butter and lard
and soda don't sound appetizing."
"Well, then, try this," laughed Mother Blair; "every bit of this sounds
good:"
PEANUT WAFERS
1 cup of sugar.
1/2 cup of milk.
1/2 teaspoonful of soda.
1/2 cup of butter.
2 cups of flour.
1 cup of chopped peanuts.
Cream the butter and sugar; put the soda in the milk, stir
thoroughly, and put in next; then the flour. Beat well. Grease a
shallow pan and spread the mixture evenly over the bottom, and
scatter the nuts on top. Bake till light brown, and cut in squares
while warm.
"Oh, those _do_ sound good!" Mildred exclaimed, as she wrote the last
words down.
[Illustration: Brownie and Mildred Making "Chocolate Crackers"]
"What sounds good?" asked Miss Betty's voice, as her pretty head popped
in the door. So they told her all about the luncheons, and she said she
knew some good things, too, and the first one was:
CHOCOLATE CRACKERS
2 squares of chocolate.
1 teaspoonful of sugar.
Butter, the size of the tip of your thumb.
3 drops of vanilla.
Cut the chocolate up into bits and put it in a saucer over the
tea-kettle; when it melts, add the sugar and butter and vanilla;
stir, and drop in some small crackers, only one at a time, and lay
them on a greased paper to dry.
[Illustration: "I've got to make some this very minute."]
"Oh, Mother, I've just got to stop writing and make some of those this
very minute!" Mildred exclaimed. Miss Betty said she had lots of things
she wanted to talk over with Mother Blair while Mildred was busy.
Brownie came running in just then, and the two girls worked so fast they
had a whole plateful of crackers done in no time; and after everybody
had had one apiece to eat, Mildred said: "Now, I will learn to make some
more things."
"Let me see," said her mother, slowly. "Sandwiches and cake--what else
can you think of for luncheons, Betty?"
"Deviled eggs," said Miss Betty, as quick as a flash. "Please let me
tell how!"
DEVILED EGGS
Boil three eggs for ten minutes; peel them, cut them in halves,
and put the yolks in a bowl; add
1/4 teaspoonful of salt.
1/4 teaspoonful of dry mustard.
1 pinch of pepper.
1 teaspoonful of oil.
1/2 teaspoonful of vinegar.
Mix well, fill the whites, press smooth with a knife, and put two
halves together.
"But three eggs are too many for Jack," complained Brownie. "He won't
need three; can't I have one for my lunch here?"
Miss Betty laughed, and said it would be easy for Mildred to make enough
for everybody instead of making three, as the rule said.
"If I just made one, I suppose I'd take pinches instead of
teaspoonfuls," said Mildred, thoughtfully. "I mean, I'd take just a
little of everything, enough to make the egg taste good?"
"Exactly!" said Miss Betty; "that is just the way a real grown-up cook
does. And, Mildred, when I had to take my lunch to school, I used to
have the best thing--salad. I had it when there were no real sandwiches,
only bread and butter; it was put in a little round china jar with a tin
top that screwed on, so it never spilled. But perhaps Jack doesn't like
salad."
"He just loves it," said Brownie; "he loves every single thing to eat
that there is!"
"Then he will surely 'just love' these things! Write them down,
Mildred."
CHICKEN SALAD
1/2 cup of cold chicken, cut in small bits.
1/2 a hard boiled egg, cut up.
Or use celery in place of the egg, or use both.
FRENCH DRESSING
2 teaspoonfuls of oil.
1/4 teaspoonful vinegar.
1 pinch of salt
2 shakes of pepper (paprika is best).
Beat the dressing well and mix with the chicken and egg.
Make more dressing if the salad is too dry.
LUNCHEON FRUIT SALAD
Cut a seedless orange in halves; take out the pulp with a spoon;
use alone, or mix with bits of banana or other fruit; or use
chopped celery and apple together. Add the dressing.
"There!" said Miss Betty, triumphantly, as Mildred read the receipts
aloud when she had copied them. "If Jack doesn't like those, he isn't
the boy I take him for. And you see, Mildred, when you have no salad for
him, you can sometimes put in a nice stalk of celery; and when you have
had the same fruit over and over, you can just give him a fruit salad. I
do believe I'll start on a long journey and take a whole week's supply
of lunches along. All these receipts make me feel just like it!"
"Oh, do let me go too," begged Mildred.
"So you shall," laughed Miss Betty. "But before we start, I must tell
you one thing more: if you want an ab-so-lute-ly perfect lunch, you must
always have a surprise for the very last thing of all."
"How do you make one?" asked Brownie, curiously.
"Oh, you don't make them at all, or at least not usually; a surprise is
something which has to be eaten last of all, after all the sandwiches
and other things are gone, for a sort of dessert; sometimes I had a
piece of maple-sugar, or a bit of sweet chocolate, or a couple of
marshmallows; sometimes it was a fig or two, or a few dates. But it was
always hidden down in the very bottom of the box, and everything had to
be finished up before I opened the little paper it was in. Honestly, I
don't think boys need surprises at all, because they will eat everything
up any way, but often girls will skip a sandwich or two, unless they
know about the surprise."
"When I take my lunch, I shall have one every time," said Brownie.
"So shall I," laughed Mother Blair.
"I shall certainly give Jack one every day, because of Caesar," said
Mildred.
The next morning bright and early, Mildred hurried to get Jack's
luncheon all ready before breakfast, and her mother said she would help
her, just for once. First they made three beautiful thin sandwiches out
of bread and butter spread with the nice beefsteak filling, and wrapped
these up by themselves and put them in one corner of the box; then in
the opposite corner went the surprise, this time four little chocolate
crackers, all wrapped up carefully; on top of them, to hide them, went
three more sandwiches, made of brown bread and butter and cheese; then
the deviled egg filled the corner on top of the other pile, and one of
Norah's cakes was put opposite.
"Now for the fruit," said Mother Blair. "What is there?"
Mildred said there was an orange, but it would not go in the box.
"Oh, you don't give anybody an orange whole for luncheon! Peel it first,
then break it carefully in halves, wrap each half up in paper by itself,
and you will see how well it fits in and how easy it will be to eat when
you have no fruit-knife or orange-spoon to use with it. Now that is all,
and it's what I call a perfectly delicious luncheon, don't you?"
"_Perfectly!_" said Mildred, rapturously, as she tied up the box. "I
guess the other boys will wish they had lunches just exactly like it;
and I think it's very interesting to do them up, too."
That afternoon, when Jack came home from school, he shouted up the
stairs:
"Say, Mildred, what will you take to do up lunches for the crowd? They
told me to ask you. They said they had never seen anything so good.
Where is that Caesar? I'll do about ten pages for you if you want me to."
When the lesson was over, Mildred hugged Jack gratefully. "I can do it
alone in no time now, because you're such a good teacher," she said, as
Jack squirmed away. "And, when summer comes, just think of all the
picnic lunches I can do up for everybody!"
"We won't wait till summer for a picnic," said Mother Blair. "I've got
_such_ a bright idea!"