JAMS AND JELLY
Norah was preserving peaches. The fragrant odor filled the house one
day, and Mildred sniffed it delightedly. "Dear me! I wish I could make
preserves," she sighed. "Norah's always look so lovely in their jars,
and they taste so good, too. I wonder if she would let me help her?"
But no, Norah would not. Peaches, she explained, must be done up very
carefully, and nobody could do them up unless they knew just how.
[Illustration: "'But Norah, if You can't begin till You know how, how
does Anybody ever Learn?'"]
"But, Norah, if you can't begin till you know how, how does anybody ever
learn? And I want to do them so much! Just see how beautiful yours are,"
and Mildred looked longingly at the row of jars on the kitchen table
full of yellow peaches in a syrup like golden sunshine. "Oh, Norah!" she
murmured pathetically.
But Norah was firm. Miss Mildred couldn't do up peaches; she was too
young; and, anyway, she couldn't be bothered teaching her. So Mildred
sighed and gave it up. But when she told her mother about it, Mother
Blair laughed.
"You want to begin at the top," she said, "Norah is quite right in
saying that peaches are not easy to put up--that is, not the very best,
most beautiful peaches, and nobody wants any other kind. But why not
make something else to begin with, jams and jellies and other good
things? And by the time you know all about those, you will find that
peaches will be perfectly easy for you."
Mildred brightened up. "Now that's what I call a good idea, one of your
very best, Mother Blair. Can't I make something right away to-day?"
"Just as soon as Norah is all through with her preserving, if she
doesn't mind, you may. And perhaps she has something all ready for you
to begin on. Run and ask her if you may have the parts of the peaches
she did not want to use."
That puzzled Mildred, and as she hurried to the kitchen she thought
about it.
"Norah, Mother says you are not going to use all the parts of the
peaches, and perhaps I may have what you don't want. But what are they?
Because if they are just the skins and stones, I don't want them
either."
Norah was just fastening on the last top on her jars of preserves, and
she looked very good-natured.
"Sure, I've got lots left!" she said, and showed Mildred a large covered
bowl filled with bits of peach pulp.
"I won't put any bruised peaches in preserves," she explained, "so I
just cut up peaches with soft spots and put 'em in here; and when I'm
done, I make a shortcake out of 'em. If I've got enough, sometimes I
make 'em into--"
"Jam!" interrupted Mildred. "Of course! delicious peach jam that I love.
Oh, Norah, do let me make some; don't use any of those peach bits for
shortcake--let's have something else for lunch."
"Well," said Norah, "I guess you can have 'em." So Mildred ran for her
apron and a receipt, which, when she read it over, proved, strangely
enough, to be a rule for making not only peach but all sorts of jams.
JAM
Prepare your fruit nicely; strawberries must be washed and hulled,
peaches pared and cut up, raspberries looked over for poor ones.
When they are ready, measure
1 large cup of fruit to
1 small cup of sugar.
Mash the fruit and put it in a kettle in layers with the sugar,
and press and stir it till it is all wet and juicy. Then gently
boil it, stirring constantly from the bottom up, so the fruit will
not burn. Mash with a wooden potato masher till all is smooth.
When it has cooked nearly an hour, try a little on a cold saucer
and see if it gets firm. When it does, it is done. Some jams take
longer to cook than others, because some fruits are more juicy.
This sounded very easy indeed, and Mildred began to mash and measure at
once, and soon the jam was over the fire. But it took a long time to
cook. Norah brought a dishpan full of jelly-glasses and put them in the
sink, and Mildred washed these and dried them and arranged them on two
trays, all ready for the jam; but every moment or two she stirred the
jam well. By and by, after more than an hour, the peaches looked
transparent, and then Norah said they were done; and, sure enough, when
she hurriedly put some on a saucer and stood this on the ice in the
refrigerator to get it cold quickly, it grew a little stiff and the
edges were like jelly.
[Illustration: "I am so Proud, I want Everybody to see my Jam"]
Mildred carefully lifted the hot saucepan from the fire and began to dip
out the jam with a cup and put it in the glasses; when she finished,
there were eight of them, all filled with clear golden-pinky-brownish
jam, beautiful to look at, and, oh, so good to taste! Mildred ran for
her mother and Brownie to look at it. "I wish Father and Jack were
here," she sighed, "and Miss Betty, too. I am so proud, I want everybody
to see it."
"It really is lovely," said her mother. "I never saw any that was nicer.
Next winter we will eat it on hot buttered toast, and put it in layer
cake, and have it ready for school sandwiches."
"But only eight little, little glasses," mourned Mildred. "Why didn't I
make eight dozen of them?"
"Well, eight dozen is a good many," laughed her mother. "Perhaps--just
_perhaps_, you know, you might find you got tired even of peach jam
before you had eaten all those up. But the beauty of making jams in
fruit time is that you can make a few glasses of it any time you want
to. Peaches are just in season now, and we have them nearly every day,
so you can put up more at any time."
"Of course!" said Mildred, delightedly. "I never thought of that. I'll
make the rest of my eight dozen yet, Mother Blair; I'm sure it won't be
a bit too much."
"Why not make some other things that are just as good? Grapes are in
season too, and plums, and pears--"
"I'll make them all! I'll make every single kind of jam that there is!"
"You can make jelly too, and compotes, and spiced things; I'll be so
glad to have you learn, and they are all as easy as can be."
"But, Mother, what can _I_ make?" Brownie looked very sober. "Is Mildred
going to make everything all alone? I like to make things, too."
"Of course you do, and you shall certainly help; jams are so easy
anybody in the world can make them."
"Even Jack?" laughed Mildred.
"Yes, even Jack, if he wanted to. Why don't you and Brownie together
make some nice grape jam to-morrow?"
The girls said they would love to; then their mother had them write down
a special receipt, because grape jam is the one kind that is different
from every other.
GRAPE JAM
Wash the grapes; take them off the stems one by one as though you
meant to eat them, but press them between your fingers and put the
skins in one dish and the pulp in another. When you have finished,
heat the pulp and stir it till you can see that the seeds have
come out; then put the pulp through the colander. Add this to the
skins, measure, and follow your regular rule.
This seemed like a queer receipt; grape skins in jam! It sounded rather
horrid. But they made it, anyway, and when they had finished, though it
was a clear, reddish black, it was really delicious.
It happened that the grapes grew in their own garden, and so many of
them were ripe that, when they had used up quite a large basketful,
there were plenty left. Norah had been planning to use them in jelly,
but she said she could wait a day longer for that, and the girls might
have them if they wanted to, and she would show them how to make
something very good indeed and very easy. This was:
SPICED FRUIT
3 pints of fruit, all prepared.
1-1/2 small cups of vinegar.
1-3/4 pints of sugar.
2 teaspoonfuls of powdered cinnamon.
1 teaspoonful of powdered cloves.
Boil till thick; about an hour and a half.
In making spiced grapes, prepare them exactly as for jam, and use
pulp and skins.
Their mother did not know they were making this new kind of preserve,
and she was delighted when she was shown all the little glasses of it.
"All spiced fruits are especially nice with meat," she said, "and with
this rule you can spice almost any kind of fruit; pears, or peaches, or
apples, or plums--"
"Or strawberries, or pineapple, or raspberries," said Brownie.
"Oh, no! I ought to have said any kind of _autumn_ fruit--that is a good
way to remember which ones to use. And, Mildred, Norah divided this rule
for you, to make it easier, but when I put up spiced fruit, I take twice
as much of everything."
"What a pity I'm so stupid about arithmetic!" sighed Mildred. "Think of
having to take twice one and three quarter pints of sugar, and twice one
and a half cups of vinegar! I'll never get them right."
"Mildred, you remind me of a story some one told me the other day, about
a girl who had just come home from college; it's a true story too, and
the girl lives right in this town. She thought she would like to learn
to cook, so she found a rule for cake in the cook-book and read it to
herself; it began something like this: Three cups of flour, two cups of
sugar, three teaspoonfuls of baking-powder, and so on. Presently her
mother went into the kitchen and found on the table three cups, all
filled with flour, two more cups filled with sugar, one cup of milk,
another cup of raisins, three teaspoons in a row, all filled with
baking-powder, and so on. Think of that!"
"I s'pose they didn't teach multiplying in that college," said Brownie,
sympathetically.
Mildred and her mother laughed. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to learn
to do fractions in my head!" said Mildred.
"There isn't any other way, if you are going to be a good cook," her
mother replied. "You can't guess at things, or you will spoil them; you
have to measure exactly. Now that you have finished these grapes, I'll
give you some more receipts, if you want them."
The girls hastened to bring out their pretty red-covered books. "Just
see, Mother Blair," said Mildred, turning over the leaves, "how many
pages are filled up--with _such_ good things, too!" And she gave a sigh
of such complete satisfaction, that her mother laughed. Then they
settled themselves at the table to write the new receipts.
APPLE CONSERVE
4 pints of apples, measured after they are peeled and cut up in bits.
4 pints of sugar.
2 lemons, juice and grated peel.
2 large pieces of preserved ginger (the kind that comes in little
pots).
Mix all together and cook till thick; about an hour and a half.
CRANBERRY CONSERVE
2-1/2 pints of washed and chopped cranberries.
2-1/2 pints of sugar.
2 large oranges.
1 pint (or package) seeded raisins, chopped a little, after
washing.
Cut the oranges in halves and take out the pulp with a spoon; then
scrape the skins well till they are clean and not very much of the
white lining is left; chop the rest. Mix all together and cook
till thick.
"These two conserves are so very nice that we do not put them on the
table and eat them up any day in the week, but save them for Sunday
night supper and other times like that," said Mother Blair; "and
sometimes they can go into sandwiches for afternoon tea. Now would you
like just a very easy jelly? Here is a nice one."
APPLE JELLY
Wash twenty red apples that are not very sweet; cut them up in
small pieces without peeling them or taking out the cores. Put
them in a kettle and just cover them with water; cook slowly till
it is all like soft apple-sauce. Then put it in a bag--a flour
sack is the best--tie up the top, and hang the bag up over night
with a large bowl underneath to catch the juice. In the morning
measure this. Mix
1 pint of juice.
1 small pint of sugar.
Put on the fire and boil gently twenty minutes, skimming it
occasionally; lift off the saucepan and drop into the jelly one
large lemon, cut up in quarters, squeezing them a little; then put
a small wire strainer over each jelly-glass in turn and pour the
jelly into each from a cup.
"There! When you can make that kind of jelly, you will almost have
learned how to make any other kind. And this is lovely, so pink and
delicate, and it always gets just firm enough and not too stiff to be
nice. Now, Mildred, you may try this to-morrow if you like, and, if it's
perfect, you shall have a prize."
The next day the jam was firm on top, and Norah said it ought to be
covered and put away at once or it would get too hard.
"How shall I cover it, Mother?" Mildred asked anxiously. "Paste on
papers or something?"
"Oh, no, indeed! nobody does that way any more. Ask Norah if she has any
paraffin left over."
But no, she had used every bit she had to cover her grape jelly; so
Brownie had to go to the drug-store and get ten cents' worth. It came in
a large cake, so clear and white it looked good enough to eat, but it
wasn't, as the little girl found out by tasting. It was just like
candles, and only mice like to eat candles. Norah said she would show
the girls how to cover jams and jellies and spiced things, and
everything you put in jelly-glasses.
"You take this little saucepan that I keep on purpose for paraffin," she
said, "and put the whole cake in it after you cut it in two, and melt
it; only be careful and don't let it splash on my clean stove and make
it greasy. And while it is melting you can wipe off the jam glasses with
a warm, wet dish-cloth and make them all clean and dry."
While Brownie was washing off the glasses Mildred cut some little slips
of paper and printed on these the names for the different things they
had made; PEACH on some, and SPICED GRAPES on others, and GRAPE JAM or
APPLE JELLY on the rest. Then she got the pot of paste from the library;
by this time the paraffin was melted and all ready to use. Norah showed
them how to pour a little on top of each glass, right on the jam, and
then tip the glasses a little so it would run up the sides toward the
top. In a moment it hardened, and was ready for the tin covers to go on
so the mice could not get at it, and then they pasted the labels on, and
it was done.
Norah helped carry the trays to the preserve closet and put them away in
rows, being very careful not to tip them and slide the paraffin up the
sides of the glasses. Then they stood and looked at them, and, oh, how
proud the girls felt!
"I'll make some more to-morrow," said Mildred, "and some more after
that, and some more after that, and some more after _that_!"