MARKETING AND KEEPING ACCOUNTS
"I think it must be my turn to give you your lesson to-day," said
Margaret's Pretty Aunt at breakfast-time, "because I have thought of
something none of your other teachers have as much as mentioned. You can
get ready as soon as possible."
"Which apron?" asked the little girl, curiously.
"No apron at all," said her aunt; "your hat and coat. We are going
a-marketing. How can anybody be a good housekeeper without knowing how
to buy a dinner?"
Before they set out they went to the kitchen with a small pad and
pencil, and looked into the refrigerator to see what they had already,
to know what they would need to buy. There proved to be several things
which would be used for luncheon, and then they asked Bridget what she
wanted them to get. She said she was out of flour and granulated sugar,
and would want raisins and coffee and tea, beside a vegetable for dinner
and some lettuce and meat. They planned the meals together, and decided
on having a dessert of apple-tart, made with apples and cream, and these
were added to the list Margaret wrote down so nothing would be
forgotten; then they set out.
They stopped at the grocery first, and Margaret was told to order a
seven-pound bag of sugar. While the clerk was getting it the aunt
explained that this was a better way to buy it than to get it loose, as
then it would be sent home in a paper bag, which might break and spill
it; then, too, the nice cotton bag in which it would come home would be
just the thing to strain jelly through. The flour was also ordered in a
bag, this time a large one.
"Some things we buy in small quantities because there is danger of
waste in the kitchen if there is an unlimited supply at hand. But flour
is needed every day, and never wasted, so we buy a good deal of that at
a time. If we had a very large family we would buy a whole barrel at
once, and so save a little money; as it is, the big bag does very well
for us. Now for coffee; tell the clerk to give you his very best Java
and Mocha mixed, in a tin can. We will take it browned, but not ground."
"I thought Bridget always browned the coffee," said Margaret, who
remembered the delicious smell which often had filled the house when the
coffee came from the oven.
"So she did," her aunt explained, "until we found she would sometimes
burn just a few grains each time, which made the whole taste burned. Now
we buy it in a can, only a pound or two at a time, and of a man who has
just had it browned for him. We keep the tin closely shut always so the
odor cannot escape, and grind each morning only as much as we need, and
have this heated very hot just before the water is added, and that
gives it the same fresh odor you remember. It is the easiest way to
manage, though, of course, freshly roasted coffee is the best of all.
But remember always to get a good quality in buying, for poor coffee is
not fit to drink. Order the tea, when the clerk is ready, and get that
also in a package, because it is cleaner and fresher that way. You can
pay anything you like for tea, from thirty cents a pound to about two
dollars, but your mother gets a black tea without a bit of green mixed
in it for from sixty to eighty cents, and buys it in half-pound
packages. What is next on the list?"
"Raisins," said Margaret.
"Well, order those in a paper box, the kind which come already seeded,
and when you get them home, take them out of the box and shut them up in
a glass jar with a tight top, to keep them fresh. The vegetables come
now, but before we buy those you must put down in this little book what
we have bought already, with the price of each article opposite. I
could wait till we got home, but I am afraid you may forget the cost of
things, because you are not used to them."
She handed Margaret a cunning little book and a tiny pencil, and showed
her how to find the right month and day printed at the top of the page,
and to put down under a column headed "Groceries," just what they had
bought so far and what each thing cost. After this they crossed the shop
to the place where the vegetables and fruit were piled, and looked these
over.
The apples were of all kinds, sweet and sour, big and little, red and
green. Margaret said she would take the biggest red ones for the
apple-tart.
"No, those are not cooking apples, they are meant for the table," her
aunt told her. "And do not take the yellow ones, because they are sweet
and only good for baking. Take a nice green apple, not too large,
because the smaller ones do just as well and cost less. Let us get half
a peck of those greenings. We want oranges for breakfast, too, though
Bridget forgot to say so. Can you pick those out, do you think?"
There were a good many boxes of these, some with rough skins, some with
smooth, some with little bunches at the end. These last, her aunt
explained to the little girl, were seedless and rather too dry for
breakfast, though very nice for dinner. "The rough-skinned ones are
light, as you will see if you lift one, so they would have little juice.
Choose a heavy one of medium size and a rather smooth skin; but do not
get those which are a very light yellow, for they may be sour."
The vegetables had to be looked over carefully. Spinach proved withered,
so they passed it by; the cauliflower had tiny black spots on it; the
green string beans would not snap as they should when they were bent;
but they found a large egg plant, with a fresh, smooth skin, which they
took. The lettuce was all dark green, with thick strong leaves, and the
aunt said it would never do; lettuce must be in heads, like cabbage,
and pale green. Instead they chose some chicory with a white centre,
which seemed crisp and newly gathered. All these things were written
down in Margaret's account-book under "Fruits" and "Vegetables."
A nice dairy was not far from the grocery, and there they ordered a
little bottle of cream and put this down in the book before they went on
to the meat market. As they entered this shop her aunt said the lesson
here was so long it would take years to learn it, and they would only
take the a, b, c, of it in one day.
"Buying good meat means learning day after day," she explained.
"However, there are some things you can learn this morning, and one is
to be sure you buy in a clean place. Look around the floor and see
whether the sawdust is fresh; notice the odor of the place and whether
it is disagreeable or not; look at the counter, too, and be sure it is
white and freshly wiped off; and above all, see whether the meat is kept
in the ice-box at the back of the shop, not hung up on nails, or left
lying carelessly about. Don't buy any meat which has been hanging or
lying around; insist that it comes from the box."
"But I can't think of the kinds of meat there are if I don't see them,"
Margaret said, anxiously.
"You will learn," the aunt smiled. "I am sure you will never be willing
to eat meat which you are not certain is clean. Then look well at what
the butcher brings out to show you. Beef ought to be firm, clear red and
white, and not streaked with little lines; mutton must not be too fat;
veal not too young--you can tell when it is because then it will be very
small. Bacon must not be too lean nor too salt, and cut as thin as a
wafer. Fish must be fresh, with nice, clear eyes. Chickens too often are
buried in a barrel of chopped ice for weeks, and come out blue and
clammy; such are not fit to eat. Suppose we buy a pair of roasting
chickens this morning, and then you will see how they ought to look."
The butcher brought out a pair which were yellow and dry, showing they
had not been covered with ice. The aunt bent down the breastbone to see
if they were tender, and showed the little girl that if it had been too
stiff to bend she would have known by that that they would not do. She
also looked inside to see if there was a good deal of fat, for this,
too, was a sign of age. She said they had few pin-feathers, were firm
and plump, and the feet were clean, so she was quite sure they would be
good, and told the butcher to send them home, and not to forget the
giblets.
"Chicken liver gravy!" Margaret exclaimed at this. "I like your lessons,
auntie!"
After they reached home and their things were put away the account-book
was brought out again, and a lesson given in that. Margaret had to
listen carefully, for it seemed rather difficult at first.
"It is best to know always how much you are going to spend on your table
every week," her aunt began. "At first you may spend too much or too
little, but by looking over your book you can tell in a moment where the
trouble lies, and the next week you can make it right. Some things cost
a great deal, such as turkeys, or strawberries too early in the season,
or certain fancy groceries, and by seeing just where your money has gone
you can remember the next time not to get these. Look at the different
columns in your book. One says Groceries, the next, Vegetables; then
Fruits; Milk and Cream; Butter and Eggs; Meat; Fish; Wages; Incidentals.
You can put down under these exactly what you spend each day, and when
the month is over you can put down in another book what each has
amounted to. Let me show you:
"Suppose when you add up your columns in your day-book you find at the
end of the month you have spent twelve dollars for groceries, fifteen
for meat, four for vegetables, three for fruit, and so on. You simply
open your second book at the right month and put down what the whole
has been; the next month you do the same thing under the new date, and
so on. At the end of the year you do not have to go over all the little
sums spent each day, but by looking in the right book under each month
you can see exactly what all the meat cost and all the vegetables, and
so on. If your October bill for meat was larger than it ought to have
been and more than it was in September or November, you can look back
and see just why, if you care to. Under Incidentals you put all your
car-fares spent in shopping for the house, and such things as
dust-cloths, or new kitchen tins. When the last of December comes you
can see all you spent during the whole year by adding what each month
came to, and know exactly how much it costs you to live, and you can
plan to spend more or less next year, as you think best. That is not
hard to understand, is it?"
"No," said Margaret, "not to understand, but you see I am afraid I will
forget to put things down, and then I will not know after all what I
spent."
"But you must put them down at once," her aunt said. "Either taking a
pencil with you to market, or writing them down as soon as you come
home. You will soon learn, and you will like the plan more and more. It
is so nice to know exactly where the money went, day by day."
"Sometimes the grocer has a little book to put things down, too," said
the little girl. "If he has a book why do I have to have one?"
"Because he may make a mistake, for one thing," her aunt replied, "and
because if you have him put things down and do not do it too, you spend
more than you think, and grow extravagant. You can pay each day, if you
prefer, or once a week, or once a month; some people like one way, and
some another about this, but you should always keep your own accounts,
anyway, and know what you have had and how much, and what it cost; and
at the end of each month you must copy off the result of adding your
columns, and see what the expenses of the month have come to, and so at
the end of the year. That's the way a good housekeeper does!"
"Well," said Margaret, "then I will do that way, too, even if it is some
trouble."
"That's right," said her aunt. "If you do, I'll give you the loveliest
set of account-books and the prettiest silver pencil I can buy when
Christmas comes."
"Oh, I truly, truly will!" Margaret exclaimed. "I'll put down every
single penny."