THE BATHROOM; BRASSES, GRATES, OILCLOTHS, AND VESTIBULE
When the Saturday morning came on which Margaret was to learn how to
take care of the bathroom, and clean grates, and do other such things,
she groaned out loud. So far her lessons had been delightful, but this
one sounded as though it would be work instead of fun. However, she put
on her long-sleeved apron and out of the little bathroom cupboard she
took the flannel cloth, the cotton cloth, the sapolio, the metal polish,
a queer little brush of twigs with a long handle and a bottle of
disinfectant, all of which stood ready there in a neat row. Then her
Other Aunt came into the room, with a big apron on just like Margaret's,
and began:
"The bathtub, luckily for us," she said, "is of white enamel, so it is
easy to keep clean. But see, all around it there is a streak where the
top of the water came after somebody's bath this morning. Now, of
course, every single person who uses a bathtub ought to wipe it out
afterward; but men don't take the trouble, and women sometimes forget;
little girls never do, of course! So the tub has to be washed and wiped
out every morning."
"Every single morning?" Margaret asked, grumblingly. "It seems as if
that would be too often; it must wear the nice enamel off to wash it so
much."
"Not at all," said her aunt; "it is good for it! Get the nice white
cloth and a cake of soap,--not the sapolio, because that would scratch
it,--and roll up your sleeves. Kneel down by the tub, put in the
stopper, and draw a little warm water; wring out your cloth in it, rub
it well on the soap, and scrub off the greasy mark first, and afterward
wash the tub all over; rinse out your cloth, let out the water, and
wash the tub again and wipe it dry. Sometimes, perhaps twice a week, put
a little ammonia in the first water so that the tub will have an extra
cleaning. If ever you have a really dirty tub to scrub, take gasoline on
a flannel cloth and wash with that, and it will be like new; but tubs
which are washed out every day never need gasoline.
"If you have a tub lined with zinc remember that needs even more care
than a white one, if it is to be kept shining bright. You can scrub it
out with gasoline if it seems greasy, then with vinegar, if it is dark,
then with metal polish, and so on; zinc tubs are really difficult to
care for. A better way is to paint it all over with two coats of white
paint and when it is dry enamel it. It costs only a dollar to do it, and
it does save so much work; besides, a white tub always looks best of
all. Now we will do the wash-stand."
They took off the soap-dish and tooth-brush mug and bottles of tooth
powder, because, as the aunt explained, one must always wipe under
things, not around them. The marble slab and bowl were scrubbed and
dried, and the mugs and soap-dish washed, wiped, and replaced. After
this they cleaned the closet by pulling the handle and letting the water
run while they put in the long-handled brush of twigs and brushed out
every inch of china, even down into the pipe as far as possible.
Margaret was told that when she used ammonia in the tub she must put
some in the closet, too, and once or twice a week a little disinfectant
must be poured down to keep the pipe perfectly clean. The woodwork was
wiped off with a cloth kept for that purpose, and then they turned to
the polishing of the faucets and pipes.
This was hard, but as Margaret and her aunt both worked it made it
easier. They put some polishing paste on a flannel and rubbed and rubbed
till they could see the metal shining through the paste; then they wiped
it off with a dry cloth. "If this was all rubbed a little every single
day," said the aunt, "it would never be such hard work. I should say
that this nickel had been just a little bit neglected lately, but see
how bright we have made it! Now for the oilcloth on the floor."
They set the hamper and a chair out into the hall, and Margaret went to
the kitchen for a basin of milk with a little warm water in it. Out of
the cupboard she brought the Japanese seat she had learned she must
always use when she got down on the floor, partly to save her dress, and
partly because there was a painful disease called sometimes "housemaid's
knee," which one could get by kneeling and working on a hard floor with
nothing underneath one. When she was all ready her aunt wrung out the
cloth for her in the milk, and told her to begin at one edge and work
straight across the floor, wiping every part well, but especially under
the tub and wash-stand, because those were likely to need it most. "The
milk will freshen the oilcloth and make it shine," she said. "Always try
and have some when you wipe up an oilcloth, for water alone is not good
for it."
When the floor was dry they set in the hamper again, folded the towels
neatly, and hung them straight on the rack, and dusted around the window
and the wood around the sides of the room. "We are done here," the aunt
said, as they put away all the things they had been using, "but the
lesson isn't over yet, for while we are in the scrubbing business you
may as well learn how to take care of steps and vestibule. You may get
the old broom from the kitchen Bridget keeps for this, and ask her to
bring a pail of water; you will need the scrubbing-brush, too, and the
sapolio, and two cloths; the Japanese seat, some more metal polish, a
flannel, and a duster."
Margaret got them all, and brought them out to the vestibule. The
door-mat was taken up, shaken well, and hung over the balustrade
outside, and, after sweeping out the vestibule, Margaret knelt on the
seat and scrubbed the marble floor, especially in the corners, and then
wiped them dry. The steps had already been swept once that morning, so
all they needed was a good bath. A little water at a time was poured
over them and swept off with the broom, and while they dried in the
sunshine, she rubbed the door handles and bell with polish, and gave
them a beautiful finish with chamois leather. The woodwork of the doors
was pretty dusty, and before it could be made to look just right it had
to be rubbed off with a damp duster and a little stick used in the
cracks of the wood. When the rug was laid down once more Margaret and
her Other Aunt stood and admired their work.
"A good housekeeper always has nice, clean steps and a well-cared-for
vestibule," said the aunt. "They are like a sign-board on the front of a
house, telling the sort of people who live inside. That thought ought to
make you keep your vestibule in nice order."
"Yes, indeed," said Margaret. "I'd be ashamed to have a sign-board in
front of my steps, saying, 'An untidy girl lives here!' Now what do we
do?"
"Well, let us see if we can find any brass to polish. There are the
andirons in the hall, for instance, and the shovel and tongs." So out
came the metal polish once more, and, after putting down a newspaper,
they rubbed them all well. They found out, however, that some of the
brass about the house had an enamel finish over it to keep out the air,
and all this needed was wiping off with a cloth instead of rubbing,
which was a great saving of time; though this brass was not quite as
nice looking as that which they rubbed till it shone like a mirror, in
the old-fashioned way. It happened that the chandelier in the hall was
covered with the enamel, and here her aunt told Margaret she did not
dislike it, because it would have been nearly impossible to rub a
chandelier clear up to the ceiling every week. They brought out the
step-ladder and wiped it off with a dry duster, however, and then they
washed the globes nicely in warm water, and dried them. Globes often
got very dusty, the aunt said, and nobody remembered to wash them off
instead of merely dusting them once in awhile, and then the family
thought the gas must be very poor because the light was dim.
"Now, auntie, what next?" Margaret asked, when this work was done.
"The sitting-room fireplace," her aunt replied. "It is full of wood
ashes."
Margaret went once more to the broom closet and got a shovel, a
dust-pan, a whisk-broom, a damp cloth, and a newspaper.
There were andirons in the fireplace and the ashes lay all over and
around them, so her aunt first helped her lift these heavy things out on
the newspaper at one side. Then she told her to sweep most of the ashes
into a small pile right in the centre of the hearth, at the back.
"But, auntie, they won't burn any more; why don't I take them right
out!" asked Margaret.
"Because they make the fire burn better and last longer. You can take up
part of them and put them in the scuttle, but leave some, and
especially all the bits of charred wood; it would be wasteful to take
those away."
Margaret carefully swept up the greater part of the ashes, working from
the edges of the hearth toward the middle, and put them into the
scuttle. Once she spilled a shovelful, but as a newspaper was spread on
the carpet it did not matter. Her aunt told her to be sure and always
have plenty of papers ready to use in housework, because in the end they
saved so much work. "Suppose you had to sweep up those ashes," she said,
"and clean the carpet, too, would not that be a bother! Now if the
hearth is clean, wipe it with the damp cloth, and dust off the andirons
well. If there had been a grate here you would have had to polish it
with the blacking from the kitchen stove. When you have finished you can
get more paper and kindling and lay a fire."
They put crumpled paper between the andirons, covering all the ashes
which lay there so they did not show. On this they laid kindling,
crossed, and then some pieces of wood. When they gathered up the
newspaper there was nothing to brush from the carpet, and everything was
neat.
"There," said her aunt, "that's all for to-day. Run and wash your face
and hands,--they need it!"