ee rented ra Se ee caReeee sats corre iimhegeteerraccenl SPmertrc ects ts Ee AV eachother cer ERE ANT STpy New Dork State College of Agriculture At Cornell Gniversitp Ithaca, N. D. Librarp ee. F THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK SAAS 3 As MARION HARLAND THE Housekeeper’s Week BY MARION HARLAND AUTHOR OF COMPLETE COOK BOOK AND EVERYDAY ETIQUETTE ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY MARY TAYLOR ee de WITH FRONTISPIECE-PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR’: | ne ae ( INDIANAPOLIS THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY PUBLISHERS Copyright 1908 The Bobbs-Merrill Company August Ce 7 ee 7S PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS BROOKLYN, -N. Y. CONTENTS CHAPTER I HER HOUSE IN ORDER PAGE General lack of preparation for the business of housekeeping. The value of planned housekeeping. Subjects upon which the housekeeper should be informed: (1) Household expenditure or the proper division of income. (2) The culinary department. (3) How to keep a house and its furnishings clean and in order. Effect upon family life of attractive environment. The week as typifying the unit of work in relation to the house CHAPTER II MONDAY: WASH-DAY Set tubs. Wringer. Putting clothes in soak. Taking owt stains before washing and the use of detersives. How to wash flannels. Treatment of ginghams, calicoes, colored cottons and linens "CHAPTER III MoNDAY (Continued): STARCHING AND BLUING The use of bluing. Getting clothes ready to hang out. Proper way to make starch.- Dipping the pieces. Care of the line, and of clothes-pins. Drying colored clothes. Sprinkling and folding for ironing-day ee we fo) tt fo te Tet CHAPTER IV monpay (Continued): DEVICES FOR MAKING WASHING RASY Value of borax and kerosene. Javelle water and a recipe for making. Recipe for soap powder. Home-made bluing. Starch that will not stick to the irons. Scraps of soap and their use. Paraffin as a cleansing agent. A gasoline emulsion for washing 1 10 21 30 CONTENTS CHAPTER V MONDAY (Continued): WOOLENS, COLORED COTTONS AND LINENS PAGE Cold water process for flannels. Recipe for washing and dry- ing blankets. Prevention of shrinkage in flannels. Care of woolen stockings. Preparations for cleaning colored cottons and limens. Setting the color . . . . . . + «© © © «© « CHAPTER VI Mmonpay (Concluded): SILKS, BLACK, COLORED AND WHITE The old black silk and its renovation. Washing fast-colored silks, Treatment of wash silk. To wash white and colored rib- bons. To clean a dark-colored woolen skirt. Soap-bark as a cleanser. Domestic cleaning versus professional cleaning CHAPTER VII TUESDAY : IRONING-DAY Assisting the maid on ironing-day. Table for ironing sheets and table-cloths. Covering for ironing table and board. Trivet on which to set iron. Devices for keeping irons clean and free from rust. Sorting the clothes. Jroned and unironed sheets. Disposal of clothes from the laundry . ....... CHAPTER VIII WEDNESDAY: BAKING-DAY The home-made loaf vs. “ bakers’ bread.” Old-fashioned yeast- making. Compressed yeast. A recipe for hop yeast. For potato yeast. Home-made yeast cakes . 2. . . 2 «© «© 2 ow CHAPTER IX WEDNESDAY (Concluded) : BREAD-MAKING The way to test flour. To overcome faulty seasoning in flour. Ingredients and method of making potato sponge bread. The kneading board. Preparing oven. Treatment of loaves when taken from the oven. Directions for making milk bread. Some rules for quick breads. When to use baking soda... . ii 52 63 74 84 CONTENTS CHAPTER X THURSDAY : DETERSIVES PAGE Stains and detersives generally considered. To remove ink spots. Taking out rust stains. Removing spots from linen. Method with coffee, tea and fruit stams. Heroic treatment for fruit stains. Mildew and iron mold. How to treat axle-grease stains and spots made by paint, tar, pitch, sticky fly-paper. How to treat “a scorch.” Perspiration staims . . . .... CHAPTER XI THURSDAY (Continued): ON CLEANSING NON-WASHABLE ARTICLES OF DRESS The use of gasoline. Benzine and its uses, Dry cleaning. On cleaning lamb’s wool and white fur, linen and lace, embroidered handkerchiefs, cravats, scarfs, centerpieces and fine doilies. To clean velvet and corduroy, also felt hats. How to clean furs at home. Various ways of cleaning gloves and slippers . . . CHAPTER XII THURSDAY (Concluded): ODDS AND ENDS OF RENOVATING To clean white and light-colored leather. To prevent low shces blistering the heel, To clean various kinds of hats. Soot marks and their remedy. Egg stains. To clean a feather boa and os- trich plumes. Renovating feather pillows. Cleaning chiffon, To remove the shine from cloth and silk. Restoring éeru laces. To set colors. Cleaning jet passementerie and jewelry with stones in it. Taking varnish out of cloth . . . .....s CHAPTER. XIII FRIDAY: HOUSEHOLD PESTS, VERMIN Nature of moths, and general directions for keeping them out of the house. How to get rid of silver-moths and buffalo beetles. What to do with a moth-infected rug. To remove moths from furniture. Moths in carpet. To get rid of fleas. For ants, red and black. Book-worms . .. . lil 96 114 128 . 146 CONTENTS CHAPTER XIV FRIDAY (Concluded): OTHER HOUSEHOLD PESTS PAGE Roaches and water-bugs. The common kitchen species. The water-bug or croton-bug. How to get rid of these. Mosquitoes and how to guard against them. Rules for keeping flies out of the house, and away from horses. How to rid the house of rats and mice. Invasions of caterpillars, aphidew, rose beetles. How to kill vermin in the hair. How to fight bedbugs . . . . 162 CHAPTER XV SATURDAY: FLOORS, WALLS AND THEIR COVERINGS Care of carpets. Advice as to buying floor coverings. To keep light-weight rugs from turning at the corners. To dry- clean rugs. To wash oriental rugs. How to sweep a carpet. Use of carpet-sweeper. To restore color to carpet. For serub- bing a earpet. When and where to use matting. Linoleum and oil-cloth. Wooden floors. How to keep them clean, polished, varnished or waxed. To remove paint stains from a floor. To remove spots on kalsomine. To clean wall paper. To remove paper from wall. A recipe for government whitewash. Burlap as a wall covering and how to clean it . . . .. =. . +. 182 CHAPTER XVI SATURDAY (Continued): WINDOWS AND FURNITURE Care of windows and mirrors. How to clean polished furni- ture. To get rid of white spots on furniture. Home-made fur- niture polish, How to make varnish stay smooth. How to wax tables. How to clean oil paintings and gilt frames. How to regild. How to care for mattresses. Care of feather pillows. To wash down duvets and comfortables. Care of brass bedstead and lacquered goods. Care of enameled bed . . . . . . 208 CHAPTER XVII SATURDAY (Continued): VARIOUS HOUSEHOLD FURNISHINGS Situation of bath-room. How to keep pipes clean and free. To clean the bath-tub, bowl, ete. To clean marble. To clean iv CONTENTS CHAPTER XVII, Continued : PAGE sponges. Polish for faucets and other bath-room trimmings. Something about soap. How to clean alabaster, mother-of-pearl, marble and plaster figures, glass globes, bottles and candlesticks. To clean a sewing-machine. Care of the piano. Book shelves and how to care for them. Care of the kitchen sink. Care of the range. Of stove-pipes. Home-made stove-polish. To clean zine, Care of kitchen utensils, Odds and ends of kitchen lore 228 CHAPTER XVIII SATURDAY (Concluded): SILVER, CHINA AND GLASS How to keep silver clean without the weekly polishing. Bright- ening dull silver. To prevent silver tarnish. Care of brasses. How to wash china and glass. Lamp chimneys. To loosen a glass stopper. bo Bo Bo Boe ee Ge a Sw we a 2D CHAPTER XIX EVERY DAY IN THE WEEK Kternal vigilance the price of good housekeeping. Success without worry. Varying conditions of labor in various families. ' Type-written chart of daily and weekly duties. A good daily program of work. How to dust. Laying the table. When to use table-cloth. When to use table mats. Elementary rules for serving at dimmer. . 2. 1. 1. 1 ee ee ew ee 262 CHAPTER XX ANY DAY IN THE WEEK: MARKETING AND BUYING THE WINTER SUPPLIES Buying ahead. Selection of meat. Cheap and expensive cuts. Filling the store-closet for the winter months. Groceries and department stores. Care of green vegetables. Buying milk, but- ter and eggs. Buying the every-day china . . . . . . . 275 WV CONTENTS CHAPTER XXI SEWING AND “MENDING DAY PAGE A regular mending day a necessity. The sewing room. One to make ready. Character and quality of implements necessary for sewing. How to thread a needle. Darning. Patching. Ripping CHAPTER XXII ACCORDING TO THE SEASON Why house-cleaning is easier than it used to be. House-cleaning once a year. Why the autumn is better than the spring for the annual cleaning. Where to begin the task. Program for the work. Order in which a bedroom should be cleaned. Housekeep- ing in summer. How to make a house ready for closing. Sum- mer vacation housekeeping. Rules for canning fruit . . . . CHAPTER XXIIT THE TEMPLE OF THE BODY Sacredness of the body. Rules for its care. Act of breath- ing and breathing exercises. Helpful gymnastics for daily prac- tice. The bath. How to increase one’s height. Proper conditions of the sleeping room. Proper amount of sleep. Remedies for insomnia, for nightmare and snoring. Making over the tired and nervous woman . . . 2 2. 1 we 6 ew ew ew we le CHAPTER XXIV DOMESTIC MATERIA MEDICA Dangers of the home medicine chest. The study of diet. Spe- cifie curative properties in foods. Of fruits. Of vegetables, Meats and their health values. Mastication of food. Effect upon the system of eating eggs. Dyspepsia and its causes. Some serviceable simples . . . © «© © «© «© © «© «© © @ « CHAPTER XXV DOMESTIC SURGERY AND COGNATE MATTERS Burns and sealds. Formula for rendering clothing and curtains fire-proof. Frost bites. Snake and other poisonous bites. How vi 289 301 312 331 CONTENTS CHAPTER XXV, Continued PAGE to care for a crushed finger or toe. Sprains. For a choked child. For sunburn. For earache. Care of the eyes and of the feet. For poisons of the skin. Specifics in management of wasp, bee and hornet stings. A cure for hives. For prickly heat. Warts and their treatment. To prevent vomiting after the use of ether or chloroform. . 2. 2. 6 2 6 6 ee we we ew we SOL CHAPTER XXVI THE CARE OF THE SICK Why girls should be taught rudimentary principles of nursing. Kind of room best suited to an invalid. Necessary furnishings. Light. Fresh air. Manner of ventilation. Cleaning the sick- room. Flowers in the sick-room. Extra blankets. The hot- water bag. Changing sheets while the patient is in the bed. Visitors in the sick-room. Value of cheerfulness in the care of theSICK so ee a ee RE ce TO CHAPTER XXVII AFTERMATH : MISCELLANEOUS HINTS Additional matter in reference to cooking, putting up fruit, care of metals, of textiles, of glassware. Rules for sweeping and dusting, for dyeing, for transferring prints or photographs. Care of plants. Simple remedies to be used in the sick-rom . . . 382 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK CHAPTER I HER HOUSE IN ORDER That there is a distinct body of knowledge to be mastered before housekeeping can be understood in- telligently is appreciable only by the minority of American housekeepers. Many of us begin house- keeping handicapped by a lack of knowledge and by a lack of experience in the practical side of the busi- ness. To most of us the duties involved in the ex- periment of housekeeping assume at first a chaotic and unsystematized shape. Hach day arrives with its tangle of fresh and seemingly unrelated perplexi- ties to be solved from hour to hour. That which might give dignity and interest to the business,—a plan for the day, the week, the year,—is absent. Oc- casionally one meets a young woman entering upon the task of housekeeping, which is, after all is said and done, a woman’s business and profession par excellence, with a mind trained to some conception of the issues involved and with enough practical know- ledge to ‘‘do’’ for herself and family if necessary or to train the domestic or domestics who fall to her lot. 1 eS 2 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK In America this is rarer, much rarer, than in France or Germany where the part played by the woman in the marriage partnership and in the mak- ing of home is better understood and defined. It is said that it takes three generations to make a gentleman. Perhaps it takes as many to make the best of housekeepers. The young woman who begins housekeeping with a body of seasoned and systema- tized knowledge inherited from her mother and grandmother is lucky. Where this should be the rule, it is the exception, and that, not always because the mother and grandmother have not had the knowledge to impart but often in America because such know- ledge is not held of sufficient importance to be handed. on. A mother hopes that her daughter may be richer than she and may therefore escape household cares; and in consequence the daughter goes untrained to a test which, whether she be rich or poor, demands thoughtful preparation. If this untrained young housekeeper has servants she is at their mercy and must depend upon them for the knowledge which should be her special province; if she has none she must take the long hard road to experience. The ‘‘willing worker,’’ however, always sees light in the end. And there comes a day to every diligent “‘householdress’’ when the old saw, ‘‘Order is Heaven’s first law,’’ becomes luminous with mean- ing. The value of planned housekeeping in time be- comes apparent to every earnest worker in the field. HER HOUSE IN ORDER 3 Early training, of course, hastens the day, hastens especially the recognition of housekeeping as a busi- ness, or even, if one goes deeply into the study and practice of it, a profession containing several im- portant divisions governed by general laws. When one begins to look at housekeeping in this light a new dignity is given to it. Hven drudgery when viewed in its relation to the larger purpose of the scheme is lightened, is robbed somewhat of its terrors. _ Upon the ability of a woman to administer wisely the affairs of the house depends the health of her family and more often than not the financial pros- perity of her husband; and as soon as she recognizes the fact that her end of the business is as important as his and demands as constant and methodical atten- tion, so much the better. There are three general heads under which the business of housekeeping may be classified and upon which the woman of the house should be informed. The first branch covers the economic field, the ex- penditure and proper division of income. The sec- ond deals with the culinary department and the third concerns the business of keeping the house clean and habitable. Many books have been written on the subject of household expenditure, and a careful study of the subject is advisable for any woman who expects to master it. It is sufficient to say here that the main object of such study is to arrive at a reasonable divi- sion of one’s income, at a correct distribution of the 4 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK money available among the various home interests. In the care of a moderate income one can not be capricious or fanciful in the matter of expenditure without subsequent regret. Yet capricious, fanciful and uneven one is apt to be if one considers only the outlay of the hour without regard to its relative im- portance. Each housekeeper should make a list of the objects for which money is to be expended and should come to some conclusion as to the proportion- ate amount to be spent on each. Some of these objects, such as food and shelter, bear a rather constant relation to the moderate in- come. Others vary according to taste. Ina late book by Bertha M. Terrill called Household Manage- ment, the different divisions into which family ex- penditure may fall are thus denoted: Rent or its equivalent paid for shelter; Operating Expenses, such as fuel, light, wages and repair; Food; Clothes; Higher Life. ‘‘The latter includes all that ministers to mental and moral well-being, as education, travel, amusements, charities, savings and insurance.”’ The thought bestowed at the beginning of each year upon some sensible plan for the division of one’s money will repay a thousand times the labor neces- sary in formulating it and can not fail to bring a cer- tain amount of symmetry into the home life. The keeping of accounts is a logical sequence of a proper division of income. There is no teacher in the matter of expenditure like the figures in the case. The unsupported feminine memory is very untrust- HER HOUSE IN ORDER 5 worthy when it comes to computing how the money goes or has gone; and only an itemized list with ex- penditure noted at the time of purchase is likely to convince a woman of the channels into which her money has dripped away. An account-book kept faithfully for one year will serve excellently well as a guide and sometimes as a warning for the next year. Keeping accounts is an integral part of plan- ned housekeeping. If the financial welfare of the family depends largely upon skilful management of this first branch of domestic science, it is equally true that the phys- ical welfare of the family depends upon the wise ordering of the second or culinary department. Without good food, a wise selection and combination of foods, health is impossible. One must not only know how different sorts of foods should be cooked, one must know what foods combine happily for pal- ate and health in a single meal. If one knew the definition of all the words in the dictionary and did not know how to combine the words into sentences, said knowledge would be of little use. And likewise if one could repeat all Mrs. Rorer’s good recipes backward and make good every recipe on the stove or in the oven, this would not be enough. One must know something about the chemistry of cooking, about the effect of foods upon the human system be- fore one is in a position to keep John and the chil- dren clear of dyspepsia. Perhaps the study of cooking is the most interest- 6 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ing of the three branches of study necessary to a comprehension of the housekeeper’s task. After one gets over the first bumps in the road, the acquisition of knowledge, both practical and theoretical, is rapid and one advances into a more and more fascinating country. Any one who thinks the study of cooking dull has gone but a little way along the path of that particular kind of learning. There is variety in it. There is room for the assertion of personal prefer- ence and all within the bounds of orderly manage- ment. The literature on the subject both as regards the chemical value of food and the art of cooking is immense. No woman who “‘sets up to be a real, for- sure-enough housekeeper’? should be without a shelf full of good authorities on the subject. It is a proof of the limited and slighting way in which we look upon this branch of learning that we always say ‘‘the cook-book”’ as if there were only one and that enough, We do not say ‘“‘the novel book.’’ We mention po- litely the name and the author in connection. We should do as well by the culinary art as by the art of fiction. And when it comes to the matter merely of reading for pleasure, there are times when the inter- ested housekeeper will choose a cook-book for her diversion rather than the most exciting novel. A cook-book can create romantic and delightful pic- tures for its readers as well as the novel and these pictures are always susceptible of proof while those of the novel are not. The third class of duties about which it behooves HER HOUSE IN ORDER 7 the housekeeper to be informed concerns the keeping of one’s house, its furnishings and the clothes one wears, clean, in order and in repair. This branch of housekeeping carries with it a great deal of drudgery which must be constantly renewed. Yet this drudg- ery can be lightened by knowledge of the best meth- ods of doing the work and by an orderly and methodical arrangement of tasks. The effect upon family life of proper management in this department is as marked as the effect of the proper apportion- ment of money or of skilled direction in the culinary department. If the first two make for financial pros- perity and physical well-being, the last, if not under- taken with too great fussiness and an unwholesome? attention to detail, makes for a state of mind en- abling one both to work and to play with vigor and success. There is nothing like a well-ordered house to put one in tune with the world. The aspect of such a place where day by day thoughtful care adds to its attraction, its comfort and individuality, be- comes to the lover of home as dear as a loved familiar face and imparts much the same sense of rest and peace. It is with the routine necessary to bring about this happy relation between people and the house they live in that this book has to do. The details are homely enough. To classify these, to organize the knowledge necessary for the proper keeping of a house, to put it in its most available form has been the aim of the author. Following this idea the week 8 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK has been taken as typifying the unit of work in its relation to the house. Nearly all the tasks necessary for the ordering of the home may be comprised in the weekly routine. If the housekeeper is a very modern one indeed and does her housekeeping with such nicety and method that the old-fashioned house- cleaning is never necessary, then all the duties of keeping the house in order may be comprised within the bounds of a week. The kind of matter contained in this book is often pushed off into a corner at the end of a cook-book or distributed through a volume devoted to the general topic of housekeeping. It has long been the author’s belief that the directions for keeping a house clean and habitable and the recipes for preparations to be used in that effort are as deserving of a separate vol- ume as the recipes and directions for cooking; and that classification and organization of this kind of knowledge should be made for the benefit of the housekeeper. The material used in this volume is the result of a lifetime of observation and of practical effort in the matter of housekeeping. The division of the tasks, according to the day of the week, is per- haps somewhat arbitrary. There is room for discus- sion as to whether it is the best order. The author can say only that it is the order which best recom- mends itself to her. When to the housekeeper the duties of each day assume a distinct identity, the battle of managing the work is pretty well fought out. When Monday PSVCRRTI EOP a Fd 14a ; HER HOUSE IN ORDER 9 no longer looks like Tuesday and Friday has a face and ways of her own, it means that logic of a kind is making its way in the housekeeper’s brain. If the author succeeds in her aim of clearing up to some extent the subject in hand, and of lightening the labor involved in the important branch of domestic science under discussion, she will feel well repaid. CHAPTER II MONDAY WASH-DAY When I was thirty years younger than I am now, yet believed that I knew thirty times more than I shall ever learn, I had the hardihood to write and to print a rodomontade I shall copy here in part. The copying and the reading are a part of the wholesome penance maturity pays for even partial possession of the sins of presumptuous youth :— “By what human ordinance or Divine intimation it was first appointed unto womankind to lay hold of the log of the week by the heaviest and most knobby end, I never expect to know. “Tt is—and it has been from time immemorial, and it will be until the end of this rolling old globe of ours—the law of thrifty housewives that eyes, anointed by the blessed sleep of Sunday night, shall be unsealed by cock-crow to smart and water in the smoke of boiling suds; that hands, lately folded in prayer and crossed in sacred decency through the hallowed hours, shall rub and redden and roughen over the bleached ridges of wooden wash-boards, or the luckless laborer lose temper and cuticle against the treacherous grooves of metal ‘patents;’ that, 10 MONDAY 11 what with lifting boilers and tubs, and wringing and starching and hanging out and folding down, the priestess of that unblessed day in the calendar shall be, by Monday night, separated from Sunday quiet and Sunday thoughts by an abyss of unsavory odors and sweltering heats; by such backaches, and head- . aches, and armaches, and legaches, that the recollec- tion of the holy season is a dream of doubtful dis- tinctness, and the hope of a return is frightfully counterbalanced by the reflection that—as Tommy Snooks sighed to Betsey Brooks— “* “To-morrow will be Monday!’ ’’ There was a good deal of this jeremiad, and at the time the picture was not overdrawn. We had not learned to prattle of Realism thirty years ago, yet the word has sober meaning when applied to a sketch from the laundry-life of that generation. It is the fault of the housemother of the twentieth cen- tury if she knows, by personal experience, hardships such as are depicted here. To begin with her ‘‘stage setting’’—she is poor in- deed if she have not a laundry separate from her nominal kitchen. It may be a mere closet in size, perhaps nothing better than a shed in a lean-to. If she be a flat-dweller, one corner of her pocket-edition of a kitchen is fitted up with set-tubs, each with fau- cet and waste-pipe. The toil of pouring in water heated by the kettleful over the fire; the lifting of clumsy tubs of dirty suds; the carrying of these 12 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK across the room to the sink; sometimes to throw the fouled water into an outdoor drain,—all that her grandmother and her ‘‘hired help’’ designated aptly as the ‘‘heft’’ of wash-day work—are obsolete im- positions upon the women of the family. Our grand- dames accepted them with the pious resignation that stood with them for philosophy. Silent endurance of the inevitable was part of their religion and the daily practice of the same. There was, then, deep spiritual significance in the unwritten, but none the less arbitrary law which set Monday’s toil so close to Sabbatical rest. Our woman who lent a hand with the weekly wash—often doing it all, unassisted—needed a sojourn in the Land of Beulah before she waded through the soapy surges that must be passed on the morrow. The modern housewife of moderate means may not have a washing-machine. To tell the truth, she is a trifle wary of this labor-saver. She has heard of patents that are said to be not unwieldy, or liable to get out of order, but she knows of more which have been an expensive delusion and a snare. A wringer is a necessity of life. No self-respecting maid of any known nationality or creed, would stay in a house where a wringer is not kept. It saves the muscles of arms and half the burden of the crucial day. As we shall see, by-and-by, ingenious women and compassionate men have invented compounds that reduce to a merciful minimum the rubbing and scrubbing necessary to dislodge dirt and eradicate MONDAY 13 grease and stains from household linens and ‘‘body- clothing.’’ Detersives, warranted not to rot the threads, or stir colors, are advertised hourly. A fair percentage of them are safe and worthy of the laun- dress’ grateful confidence. She is a canny house- keeper who makes a practical study of domestic chemistry, and having proved what home-made de- tersives are trustworthy and safe, turns a deaf ear to the patent agent, charm he never so wisely. Granting all we have said of modern mitigations of the white woman’s burden, par eminence, the truth stands, and can not be softened out of sight, that the bane of the American housemother’s profes- sional life is washing and ironing. She names it first among household duties; it is a bugbear in en- gaging a new servant; her ideal of a peaceful, care- free existence is to be able, conscientiously, to ‘‘put out the family wash.’? When she must put her own hand (literally) to the work, the duty is nothing less than an affliction. Many weary women, in surveying the ruin wrought by a single meal upon snowy napery, and the dire results of one afternoon’s outing upon the dainty summer frocks of their girls, the shirts and trousers of their boys, are ready, in bitterness of spirit, to take up, in behalf of the recently laundered gar- ments and fine linen, the doleful plaint of the hour- old baby’s epitaph— “‘Since I am so soon done for, I wonder what I was begun for! ’’ 14 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK A wit (and presumably a householder) of the eighteenth century declared that wash-day was in- stituted in commemoration of the day on which Job first saw the light, of which the sorely afflicted man of Uz said, ‘‘Let it perish! let darkness and the shadow of death stain it! let it not be joined unto the days of the year!’’ A latter-day writer has indulged in gloomy statistics as to the proportion of human life spent in cleansing the house, clothing and per- son, in fouling which the remaining time has been employed—or wasted ? Cur more optimistic, because more sensible house- wife does not squander time and lower her spirit- level in bemoaning the inexorable fact that clothes will get dirty, and, when dirty, must be cleansed. She brings to the tasks that fall to the accursed day cheerful philosophy and such knowledge of the best methods of doing the work as will achieve satisfac- tory results with the least expenditure of time and nervous forces. Let us come now to practical talk concerning some of these ways and means. If our laundress be far-sighted, she will forecast the morrow’s duties so far as to put the ‘‘clothes”’ (all-embracing term) in soak overnight. In one household I wot of, where all needless work is avoided on the day of rest, the bulk of this pre- paratory task is done on Saturday night, leaving the body-linen, exchanged for clean on Sunday morn- MONDAY 15 ing, to be added to the soaking clothes on the evening of that day. The tubs should be perfectly clean. Even station- ary tubs, with closely fitting lids, will gather dust and need to be wiped with a wet, then with a clean cloth, before they are half-filled with soft tepid water, and made ready for the soiled articles. Sort these, in preparing for the soaking. Put table- and bed-linen in separate tubs; keep soiled undergar- ments apart from both. You will save yourself much subsequent worry if you ‘‘treat’’ stains before washing. A chapter— perhaps more than one—will deal, at length and in detail, with various stains and the best ways of dis- posing of them. I offer here a few general rules: Fruit, ink, coffee, chocolate, and tea stains may be wet with Javelle water, or with a weak infusion of chloride of lime, Leave the soiled places in this for five minutes, then rinse in pure, tepid water. Never omit the rinsing. Neglect of this precaution is al- most sure to weaken the threads of the fabric by the continued action of the acid. Rub chalk upon grease spots, and butter upon stains made by machine oil, or axle-grease, washing out the butter.a half-hour later with warm suds. When all are ready, put into the tubs and see that they are well covered, as I have directed, with tepid —never hot—water. If the water be hard, stir a handful of pure borax into each large tub. 16 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK On the morrow, draw off the soaking water; wring each piece hard; return each kind to its respective and emptied tub, and wash in warm suds, made with plenty of really good, ripe soap. ‘‘Green’’ soap— that is, newly made—is injurious to clothing and to hands. It eats into both with the virulence of a cor- rosive acid. Unless the water be soft, add borax again. It is harmless, mellows the water, and tends to whiten the clothes. Abjure washing soda and all its works in the laun- dry. The ordinary garden variety of laundress is so addicted to it that, if it be denied by her employers, she will smuggle surreptitious parcels of the drastic stuff into the laundry, and add it secretly, at her own expense, and at the sorer expense of the mis- tress’ property. The owner of the maltreated fabric seldom suspects the crime until she finds it eaten into tiny holes, as if peppered with bird-shot. There are other laundresses’ allies and household- ers’ foes which have a like effect. Some are patented and widely advertised. They save the washer- woman’s muscles, rasp the sensibilities and deplete the purse of her employer. Borax is safe and effi- cient. One pound (powdered) will soften forty gal- lons of water. When the clothes are clean at last—the soiled places rubbed out, and all of uniform whiteness— rinse in clean hot water, and put into a boiler half- filled with tepid water, to which you have added shredded soap and a tablespoonful of kerosene, stir- MONDAY 17 red in well before the clothes go in. Never forget that boiling water ‘“‘sets’”’ dirt, and that dirt will make the contents of your boiler hopelessly dingy. Do not crowd so many clothes into the boiler that the water will not cover them well, and that in heat- ing it can not bubble freely between the several arti- cles. Boil gently for an hour; lift out the wet linen with a wooden clothes-stick on to a wooden tray, or into a clean tub; again half-fill the boiler, and put in a second supply of clothes. Wash your table-linen first, and, as in soaking, do not mix it with bed- or body-linen. Be scrupulously particular in this separation, even after both kinds seem to be clean. Now comes the final rinsing. Have ready an abundance of clean, warm water, souse each article several times, shake hard, twist with a pair of strong hands, and put through the wringer. If there are buttons upon any garment turn them inside, with a fold or two over them, that they may not be broken or torn off in the wringer. Much of the ‘‘good color’’ of a washing depends upon the wringing. Clothes should never drip when hung on the line. They dry more evenly and quickly, and are much whiter if every drop of water that can come away be wrung out before they are pronounced ready for the lines, than if hung up, streaming with water. A few leading points as to the management of flan- nels and colored fabrics belong to this chapter. -_ 18 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ‘“‘Many women of many minds’’ would be an ap- propriate motto with which to introduce the question of the temperature of the water in which flannels are to be washed. Says one prime authority upon Household Economics: ‘‘Flannels and hosiery should be washed in tepid, soft water—never in hot, and never in cold.”’ Yet veteran housewives persist in extolling the merits of cold water as a means of cleansing woolens, and of keeping them soft. ‘‘When you have tried this method of washing woolen goods you will never be satisfied with any other,’’ writes a grandmother, who prides herself upon ‘‘not being too old to learn anything that is worth knowing.’’ In my own laundry flannels have, usually, been washed in lukewarm water, squeezed, and not wring out, shaken free of water, dried quickly and ironed on the wrong side while damp. To be frank, I have not been invariably satisfied with this method. The phrase ‘‘lukewarm water’’ leaves too much to the discretion of the individual. What would be several degrees above tepid to the delicate cuticle of the mis- tress, is cold to the toil-hardened hands of her maid. “Why not test the temperature with the thermome- ter?’’ cries our college-bred girl. I reply—and my sister housekeeper will sustain me in the assertion—that there are many things which look well in housewifely manuals, and which are the soul of reason and common sense, that lapse MONDAY 19 into a dead letter in the rush and routine of worka- day life. Were there a thermometer to every square inch of laundry wall, our average hireling, whose own the woolens are not, would not take the pains to consult one. Return we to our flannels. Not long ago, I put a particularly pretty dressing-sack into the family wash. The material is soft flannel, the design lilac flowers and leaves upon a white ground. A scalloped edge of lilac silk finishes sleeves and cuffs. Having just had a talk with one of the aforesaid honorables, I was moved to an experiment. The favorite gar- ment was laid in cold salt-and-water for an hour to set the color, dried in the shade, and ironed through a thin damp cloth. The laundress, obedient to orders, albeit she ‘‘had never heard of the like be- fore,’’ was loud in praise of the result. The color held fast, the white ground remains clean and clear. The flannel is as soft as when new. I am not pre- pared to claim that this plan would be successful with flannels that have been already washed in the old way. Certain I am that hot water shrinks flannels. Hot irons carry on the evil work. To prevent shrinkage, stretch each garment often while it is drying. Not once or twice, but one dozen times, pulling out sleeves and body and skirt to their full width, and letting the length take care of itself. Here, again, what may be called ‘‘the laundress of commerce’’ 20 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK fails in her duty, and her employer pays the penalty of her shortcomings. In winter, it may be necessary, on three Mondays out of four, to dry flannels indoors. Freezing shrinks woolen stuffs almost as badly as do overheated water and hissing hot irons. Colored cottons and linens should be laid in cold salt-and-water, mixed with a little pulverized alum, and left there for an hour, at least, before they are washed. Then, wring out the brine, and rinse in clear cold water. Next, wash, at once, in tepid suds, unless you prefer to use soap-bark or bran-water. This last is excellent for colored ginghams, lawns, and linens which require starch. Boil two quarts of wheat bran in six quarts of water for half an hour; let it cool, and strain through cheese-cloth, pressing hard to get all the mucilagi- nous matter. Add cold water if it should seem too thick. After rinsing the brine out of your ginghams, calicoes, etc., wash them in this, using neither soap nor starch. Each of the topies touched upon in this—the open- ing chapter of our week—will be treated more at length as our subject opens and develops into more importance. CHAPTER III MONDAY (Continued) 3 STARCHING AND BLUING ‘A thousand and one times have I been tempted to wish that the bluing bag or ball or bottle had never made its way into the laundry. ‘‘Bluing,’’ whatever may be the medium that puts it into the hands of the slovenly, unskilful or lazy laundress, is to her what the feather duster is to the happy-go-lucky chambermaid. In the deft fingers of the conscientious washerwoman, bag, or ball, or bottle has its important uses. Like the ticklish in- gredient in Sydney Smith’s celebrated recipe for salad-dressing, of which he enjoins— “Tet garlic’s atoms lurk within the bowl, And, unsuspected, animate the whole;”’ like the teaspoonful of sugar in tomato soup, or the faintest conceivable suspicion of asafetida in catsup, —the influence of bluing should be subtle, yet po- tent. We should miss it, at a glance, if it were ab- sent. It should never be seen. An over-blued article betrays gross ignorance, or more culpable carelessness, always and everywhere. The shiftless creature who uses bluing to hide dirt, 21 22 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK is short-sighted as well as indolent. The spots she failed to rub out darken with the dye, and are also ‘‘set’’? by it into indelibleness. When blue streaks appear in linen which has been well washed, they are due to improper mixing, or the things thus mottled were hung upon the line while dripping wet. The trickling streams dry into stripes. Another precaution should not be omitted: if you will shake the clothes as they come out of the wringer, and pull each piece as straight as if you were getting it ready for the ironing-board, you will effect a great saving of time and strength upon iron- ing-day, and lessen the chances of the aforesaid streaks. In the use of bluing, in mixing soda in the dough you mean to form into biscuits, or blend with cake- batter, muffins, soufflés, and cream soups, in adding the prescribed ‘‘dash’’ of cayenne to sauce, or may- onnaise,—the housemother and her helpers should have ‘‘a light hand.’’ Beat the coloring matter into the starch as you would fold the stiffened white-of- egg into a soufflé, and then strain it through clean cheese-cloth to get rid of possible lumps and specks. To make your starch, wet two tablespoonfuls of crushed starch to a thin paste with two cupfuls of cold water, and when it is thoroughly dissolved, pour upon the paste a pint and a cupful of boiling water to which has been added a generous pinch of salt. The salt will prevent the clothes from getting sour and musty in hot weather. We do not need to be re- MONDAY 23 minded how often we have been sickened by the pe- culiar acid odor arising from garments brought in from the laundry in ‘‘muggy’’ summer days, and which no amount of airing and fumigation will dis- pel. Set the starch, when mixed, over the fire in a double boiler, and cook for one minute after the water in the outer vessel boils, stirring all the time. Should it be too stiff, beat in boiling water gradually until you have the proper consistency. Another good recipe for making starch differs in a few respects from the foregoing, and may be even better in the opinion of some of our housewives: Dissolve as much starch as you think you will need in cold water until it is of the consistency of rich eream. Pour slowly upon this water from a boiling kettle, stirring fast and steadily, until it is smooth throughout. Now, add more boiling water, and stir until it is of the right consistency. Give it a min- ute’s final boil, remove from the fire, and whip in a bit of paraffin the size of a walnut. Bluing should also be added while the mixture is hot. Dip the pieces to be starched into the warm com- pound, shake off superfluous paste, and clap each part of the article under treatment smartly between the hands, to insure even distribution of the stiffen- ing matter throughout the fabric. Our granddames made much of this clapping pro- cess in the clear-starching for which they were fa- mous. They ‘‘did up”’ their own laces with their high-bred fingers, by some magic of manipulation, 24 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK lost to their descendants, leaving each thread clear and consistent, and the whole a miracle of sheer snowiness. A venerable gentlewoman once told me with justifiable pride, that in her day ‘‘ladies clapped muslins as they pulled candy—with the tips of their fingers.’’? Also, that ‘‘much practice was required to bring the art to perfection.’’ I should think so, indeed! See to it that the clothes-lines are taut and clean. Discouraging manuals of housewifery,—written, for the most part, by women who have never set foot in a laundry, unless it were to tiptoe through it on a wash-day, skirts and noses uplifted,—lay down, as an imperative rule, that lines shall be taken down every week, as soon as the wash is drawn from them, and put aside in a clean, dry closet until they are needed for the next week’s work. It is well, as a matter of neatness and economy, that this should be done. It is also possible—barely—that some of the practical housewives into whose hands this book may fall, have been so blessed among women as to have hired laundresses who would obey the rule. A vast majority of us have, long ago, made up sorrowful minds to the truth—one among many of the same brand—that in domestic life, ‘‘must’’ and ‘‘can’’ are not interchangeable terms. In other words, that, if one would remain alive and sane, one must not con- found what one thinks one would do were one in one’s employee’s place, and what the latter functionary may be induced to consider as her own duty. To take MONDAY 25 down the clothes-lines every week is, in her sight, an uncovenanted mercy, and as such, not to be counted upon, except by the most exacting of nominai mis- tresses. She is a wise woman who does not make a point of a non-essential; who, since she can not get her clothes-lines taken down and in every Monday afternoon, winks at the omission, and contents her- self with the knowledge that they are kept clean where they are. Upon this she may insist with a fair degree of confidence in the fulfilment of her hope that it will be done. Even a haphazard laundress weighs the trouble of wiping the lines before putting out the week’s wash against the chance that she may have to give the things a second scrub, and decides in favor of what will cause her less work. Tn her disinclination to follow the counsel of man- ual and mistress, she has more excuse than one sup- poses at first survey of the case. To stretch and fasten ropes and rustless wires properly requires a man’s height and a man’s strength, and these are not always available at the right season in the best-regu- lated families. The next best thing is to make the stationary lines scrupulously clean. Before putting out the washing, go over the line with a soft white cloth, wiping it hard and all along the length, espe- cially near the posts and poles. Should the cloth show much soil from soot and dust, get a fresh piece, and repeat the operation. Do not be niggardly with clothes-pins. They are cheap. You may reasonably insist that they shall be 26 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK collected at the close of the day, and put into a bag or basket, to be kept clean and dry when not in use. I have seen white linen spotted at regular intervals where the pins had clamped it, making a second soak- ing and a bleaching necessary. Happy the woman who has an open, sunny space in which to stretch her clothes-line! Thrice blesséd is she who has in addition to this, a bit of clean turf whereupon stained, or ‘‘dingied’’ articles may be ‘spread for bleaching! Always dry colored clothes in the shade, and with the wrong side outward. Disregard of this simple precaution brings many a dainty fabric to grief. When one reflects that to expose dampened cotton or woolen, silk or linen garments to the sun and air is a common bleaching process, one wonders at see- ing delicate shades one would retain uninjured, if possible, subjected deliberately to these influences, for the lack of a little common sense and ordinary prudence. Freezing fades no less than heat. Avoid both. Do not leave the clothes upon the lines longer than you can help after they are dried. They collect dust, and get stiff and harsh, and, if the day be windy, are strained in seam and thread, and often whipped into ribbons. A high wind is particularly to be feared when linen sheets and table-cloths are on the line. Serious damage is imminent when one sees these valu- ables flapping in the gale, like the sails of a storm- tossed vessel. Manage to hang sheets and the larger MONDAY 27 pieces of napery in a sheltered corner, and bring them in as soon as they are dry. Follow the same rule with all starched articles. They become limp if the air is damp, and crack and split in a high wind. Freezing takes out the starch, or, if sudden and severe, makes shirt-bosoms and skirts as brittle as paper, so that they tear at a touch, and stick to the frozen lines. Says a shrewd housekeeper, whose advice I have found to be uniformly sound in other matters: ‘‘If you must hang your wash out-of-doors in freezing weather, stir a handful of salt into the last rinsing water. The clothes may then be got upon the lines before they stiffen with frost and there is less dan- ger of their sticking to the line. This applies to laundry work done on bitter winter days.”’ ‘When you can do it without over-fatigue or inter- ference with other duties, dampen down the clean and dried clothes overnight, and fold ready for iron- ing next day. They are far more easily handled if this be done soon after they are brought into the house than if they are left, rough-dry and in a dis- orderly heap, for eight or ten hours. In taking them from the line, lay them, one by one, within a clothes- basket lined with a clean cloth, folding each piece loosely as you lay it in place. Don’t heap them pell- mell, upon one another, as the manner of some is, without regard to quality, kind, or economy of space. A just sense of order should prevail throughout each stage of the work. 28 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Having ready in the laundry a large table spread with a clean cover, lift one piece at a time from the basket, spread out to its full size, and sprinkle with a clean whisk-broom—never, by any chance, used for anything else—dipped in warm water. Some nota- ble housewives affirm that the sprinkling should be done with really hot water,—that the clothes are more pliable, and the dampness more equally dif- fused if this be done than when merely warm water is used. As you sprinkle, press out folds and wrin- kles with the open palm of a firm hand, and pull hems, sleeves and seams straight. These details, that seem of minor consequence to the inconsiderate and inexperienced, lighten the work of the morrow more than the novice is willing to believe. | It is one of the time-worn and stock criticisms launched by men against women that they ‘‘make work so hard as to wear themselves out before it is half done.’’ Dispassionate survey of laundry pro- cesses, as usually conducted, gives point and color to the slur. Do you recollect the charming picture given in Mrs. Whitney’s delightful story—We Girls —of Barbara Holabird, as she dampened the clean household wash in the basement laundry, rolling each piece up hard, and thumping the rolls with her doubled fist, while she chanted her improvised rhymes to a tune of her own making, serenely unconscious that her boy-lover was looking at and listening to her, from the yard above, and falling more and more deeply in love each moment ? MONDAY 29 Read the book—the very prettiest story of co- operative housekeeping which even that beloved and lamented priestess of our domestic life ever wrote— and learn that there is poetry as well as hardship in the three hundred common days of our American housemother’s year, and that Job’s birthday comes in for a fair share. CHAPTER IV MONDAY (Continued) DEVICES FOR MAKING WASHING EASY This is what they all claim to do! Without affect- ing to deny that laundry duties are the heaviest that fall to the lot of the woman who does her own house- work, her sister-woman and, occasionally, a man and a brother, set clever wits to work to lessen the weight of the burden at some point of pressure. It is worth the philanthropist’s while to slip a pad under a gall- ing band here, or to let a buckle out there. If he be accounted worthy of the disciple’s name and reward who ‘‘TLessens, by a feather’s weight, The mass of human woe—’’ he, or she should have abundant honor who comes to the rescue of the sorely beset toiler in the reek and steam of tub and boiler. The formulas given in this chapter as illustrations of the practical operation of this helpful spirit, are, to the best of my knowledge and belief, trustworthy. They are vouched for by responsible persons—intelli- gent, honest, and solicitous to share with others what 30 MONDAY 31 has been of service to themselves—workers along the same lines with laundress and housewife. I lead off with a recipe which commends itself with especial force to me, believing as I do that borax and kerosene deserve to be called ‘‘the housemother’s twin blessings.’’ J have instinctive confidence in an emulsion combining these in judicious proportions. At least one dozen housewives have justified this trust by earnest praise of the preparation, after trial of it in their own homes. One writes: ‘‘I would not try to do my washing without it. It does away with two-thirds of the rubbing.”’ KEROSENE EMULSION (1) Shave half of a cake of Ivory soap fine with a sharp knife. Add to it a quart of warm water and two tablespoonfuls of powdered borax. Set over the fire, and simmer until the soap is dissolved. Lift from the range and stir into the mixture a coffee-cup- ful of kerosene. Bottle, cork closely and set away for use. It requires no further preparation. Put the clothes in soak overnight in hot water, adding the emulsion,—all of it. Do not put your hands into the hot water, but stir the clothes into the mixture with the clothes-stick, until all are thor- oughly saturated. Cover the tubs in which they are soaked and leave until you are ready to begin wash- ing next day. You will find that the dirt is loosened, the materials made pliable, and partially bleached, where bleaching is desirable. 32 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK KEROSENE EMULSION (2) Shave a bar of old white soap quite fine, and dis- solve it in two quarts of hot water, stirring until it is a thick suds. Beat smooth, and add a large table- spoonful of borax wet up with cold water. Next, put in two great spoonfuls of kerosene, and, after stirring for a minute to make the ‘‘emulsion,’’ pour in quickly two tablespoonfuls of household ammonia. Bottle and cork, while you turn the clothes soaked overnight into your washboiler half full of hot water. Churn them up well with the clothes-stick, add the emulsion, and boil for half an hour. Take out, then rinse twice, first in hot water, then in lukewarm, and wring. One box of concentrated lye Two ounces of best borax, powdered One ounce of salts of tartar Two ounces of lump ammonia Two gallons of boiling water Put the mixture into a stone jug; shake violently for a whole minute, keeping a tight cork in all the while, and set away for use. Half a cupful of this fluid will suffice for a large boiler of clothes. Keep the jug closely corked, and it will be good as long as it lasts. No housekeeper can afford to be without Javelle water, if she makes a business of taking out fruit, and ink, and divers other stains that white goods are heir to—no matter how vigilant the mother may be, MONDAY 33 and although children may be preternaturally care- ful of frocks and pinafores. It is a ready reckoner of the damage done by such mishaps, and if properly applied, will not injure delicate materials. This useful compound is sold by druggists, but it is not difficult to make it at home, and the domestic product is much less expensive than the manufac- tured article. A small teacupful of Javelle water, added to a boiler of water, will assist materially in keeping the clothes white, and will not act disastrously upon fine threads. HOME-MADE JAVELLE WATER Into a large stone or porcelain-lined pot put two pounds of baking-soda, and pour over it two quarts of hot water—not boiling. Stir with a wooden spoon until the soda has dissolved, and add half a pound of chloride of lime. Set the pot in a wide pan of warm water, and let it stand, covered, on the range until the mixture is quite hot. Take it off then, and let it cool, keeping it covered all the while. When cold, draw off the clear liquid carefully, strain through cheese-cloth and bottle. Cork closely, never leaving the stopper out for a moment longer than necessary. The cloudy residuum left in the pot may be bot- tled for clearing kitchen sinks of grease, as it is a powerful alkali. For a good soap-powder we are indebted to an emi- 34 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK nent chemist who has generously supplied me with other much-needed information in the preparation of this work. I give the formula in his own words: SOAP-POWDER The finely powdered commercial article is usually a pulverized soap, containing about forty per cent. sal-soda. It may be made as follows: Dissolve five pounds of sal-soda in about half a gallon of boiling water, and put into this ten pounds of finely shaved laundry soap—ripe and good. Melt slowly on the back of the range. Don’t boil it! When nearly melted stir until it is a homogeneous, thick mass. Ladle this into a clean tin or enameled pot, wider at top than bottom. Then let it cool. When chilled and solid, cut around the edges with a thin, sharp knife, and dump the cake on a clean piece of cloth. Divide the cake into thin strips; spread on paper, and let them dry naturally, without artificial heat. When air-dry, the strips are brittle and may be rubbed between the hands into a coarse powder. However, the soap may also be cut into larger pieces, and used like any soap in laundry when it has been well dried. It contains more alkali (sal-soda) than ordinary soap, hence cleanses more quickly. Smaller quantities may be made, and, to the ingre- dients given herewith, there may be added, before cooling, a cupful of benzine, skimming it for laundry purposes. Keep covered, and in a dark place. MONDAY 385 A HOME-MADE BLUING “‘Warranted,’’ says the lively donor, ‘‘sound and kind.”’ We take it, trustfully, upon her word. To one ounce of Chinese, or of Prussian blue (either will do), add a quart of soft water. Put it into a bottle and shake well and often for three days after mixing it. After this, do not shake it at all. If any of it is precipitated because not dissolved, you may refill the bottle after using all that is clear. If you can not get the pulverized blue, ask the druggist to crush it for you. Unless the Chinese or Prussian blue be pure, your compound will be a failure. It will precipitate, and spot the clothes. If it is all right and not adulterated, it is a matter of great economy to use this preparation. It will not hurt the finest fabric. The quantity here given has been known to last a family of six people a year, and the cost is trifling when compared with that of any patent bluing. But—ask your druggist to warrant the blue! He will, probably—and then you will be grateful for the recipe. STARCH THAT WILL NOT STICK TO THE IRONS Two ounces of best spermaceti Two ounces of gum arabic Two ounces of powdered borax One ounce of glycerine One quart of water 36 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Make the starch in the usual way; stir in one table- spoonful of the mixture, and thin with hot water, un- til fit for use. This is as good an opportunity as I shall have to say to my fellow-housewife that scraps of soap should never be thrown away, no matter how small, —either in laundry, or bath-room. Least of all should they be allowed to soak their shortened lives away in the bottom of a wash-tub. When they are too small to be handled with ease, they should be collected carefully and put aside in a covered box until there are enough to warrant the busy house- mother in making them into a jelly. This is done by leaving them in warm water for a couple of hours to soften. Then, put them into a saucepan with the water in which they were soaked. There should be just enough to cover them. Boil gently until you have a clear jelly. Dissolve for each cupful of this, ‘a teaspoonful of refined borax, in a little warm water, and whip into the soap jelly. Bring again to the boil, and pour into a jar to cool. This, diluted with warm water—rainwater, fil- tered, when you can get it—makes a lovely lather for washing such woolen goods as would thicken and “full up,’? if soap were applied directly upon them. Toilet soaps should be kept by themselves, and made, by the addition of boric talcum, into a scented jelly for the bath-room. MONDAY 37 PARAFFIN AS A CLEANSING AGENT Housewives who profess to have given paraffin a fair trial in the laundry, are so loud in praise of it that to pass it over lightly would be to fly in the face of the evidence of many witnesses. I offer a recipe the excellence of which is vouched for by several who have used it for years. The clothes must be soaked overnight in the usual way. In the morning wring them out, and shake free of superfluous water. Into a boiler half full of hot soft water, cut a half- bar of white soap and a bit of paraffin a little less than two inches square. Fill the boiler three-quar- ters full with pieces of fine clothing—those about which you are most particular—and boil for thirty minutes. Remove the clothes, lay them in hot rins- ing water and fill the boiler with the second-best things, having thrown out the soiled water and put in a fresh supply of water, soap and paraffin. This done, boil half an hour, and take the clothes out. The contents of the boiler are not to be thrown away this time. There will be enough soap and paraffin for the third boiling of towels and coarse pieces. Rub all soiled spots lightly on the wash-board, us- ing no more soap. The dirt will have been loosened by the process, and be ready to fall out of itself. After passing through two rinsing waters and blu- ing, hang out to dry. 38 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK In winter, if the flannels are washed in the water left from the first washing of fine white clothes, then rinsed in warm water, softened with a little borax, they will be nice and soft. The soapy water from the boiler is good for clean- ing floors, sinks, ete., if used while warm. The boiler should be emptied before it cools, or the paraf- fin will form a rim as a high-water mark, which noth- ing but kerosene will remove. The next washing-compound upon our list is en- thusiastically commended by good judges of laundry work. It has, evidently, the elements of stccess, so far as ingredients go. I precede it by a serious warning to those who are not familiar with the char- acter of gasoline. This valuable agent in many va- rieties of domestic arts is perfectly safe in careful hands. -Nobody can take liberties with it. Keep it away from artificial light of every kind, and it is absolutely manageable. It resents the approach of fire in any form. ‘Yet I am assured by authentic at- testants that the mixture of which I am about to speak may be boiled after it has been cooled, and, as it were, seasoned by the air, without the least risk of explosion. A GASOLINE EMULSION FOR WASHING Shave a bar of old white soap fine into a pot hold- ing about two gallons. Stir into it two quarts of boiling water; set over the fire and bring to a boil, stirring often to facilitate dissolution, When you MONDAY 39 have a sort of jellied cream, remove from the fire to a fireless room, or, better still, to the outer air. The back porch is a safe place. While the soap jelly is still hot pour into it, gradually, a half-pint of gaso- line. It will effervesce furiously, filling the kettle. Cover with a tight lid and let it alone for fifteen minutes. Have at hand the weekly wash that has been soaked overnight, then wrung nearly dry and sorted into tubs, ready for the laundress and the rubbing. Make a suds with plenty of hot water and a pint of the emulsion; rub in the usual way, or put into the washing-machine if you have one; rinse in warm water, and the articles are ready for the line. As I have said, it may even be boiled without danger of explosion, but this is seldom necessary, so well does the cleanser do its part. It softens hard water and dislodges dirt and whit- ens linen. Colored clothes may be washed with this emulsion without fading them. A GOOD WASHING FLUID Dissolve in two gallons of boiling water one can of potash, or of a patent lye you have tried and proved to be good. Add to the mixture a half-cup of house- hold ammonia, and as much powdered borax. Take from the fire, cover closely, and when it is blood- warm, put it into bottles with tight rubber corks. On wash-day, have ready a boiler of scalding water into which you have stirred a half-bar of ripe 40 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK soap. (A half-bar here means a piece two inches square.) Adda small teacupful of the fluid to this boilerful, and set on the stove. Your clothes should have been soaked overnight, and the soiled places rubbed with soap. Put them into the boiler, and keep up a hard boil for twenty minutes. The clothes should then be turned into the tubs. They will need very little rubbing, but must be put through two rins- ing waters. CHAPTER V MONDAY (Continuedy WOOLENS, COLORED COTTONS AND LINENS Reference was made in our first chapter to the ‘cold-water process’’ for woolen materials, includ- ing that bugbear of the thrifty manager—blankets. An earnest advocate of the somewhat startling inno- vation upon grandmotherly customs, writes: “Tt is the only way for washing woolens if you would have them beautifully soft and clean—soft as when new, although nearly worn out. My experience dates back some nine years, when a neighbor and my- self washed blankets on the same day, the blankets being exactly alike, bought at the same place and at the same time. Hers were soft and pliable, while mine had that harsh feeling every one knows for herself, and shudders to think of. ‘“‘T asked my friend the reason of the difference and she said— Having had experience in my girlhood in the woolen factories of Scotland, I simply soaked my blankets in cold water.’ “Of course I had used warm—and behold the re- sult. Since that day even our woolen stockings are treated in this way. 41 42 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ‘‘One need not always use the cold water. Tepid may do as well for old woolens. I am told that it does. But when they are new, before washing them at all, I soak them in pure cold water for at least half-an-hour, or until the flannel will make a fine lather when soap is rubbed on. Afterward, I wash them just as I would wash any other garment. My baby’s nightgowns—made of white gauze flannel— when treated in this manner, are a joy to behold and to handle. ‘‘Tt is useless to try the ‘cold water process’ after the article has been once put into warm water, for then the grease is ‘set’ and your woolen has a harsh texture. The children’s fine white flannels, having been invariably treated to the ‘cold water cure,’ when new, are afterward washed in the same way as their muslins—but not boiled, of course. Then they are thrown into the cold bluing water, hung out in freez- ing weather, or in sunshine, and never disappoint me. “There is a lot of virtue in cold water!’’ From this pleasant letter we gather that cold water is but an initiatory stage, designed to take the wool- oil out of the fabric. This done, the rest of the operation does not differ materially from the meth- ods practised in other laundries. I have taken great pains to get a consensus of opin- ion from divers trustworthy sources upon this im- portant branch of household labor, and culled from a mass of correspondence what seems to me helpful and practical information for the willing learner. MONDAY 43 In response to my inquiry, a wide-awake Western woman says: “Will I tell you how I manage to have my blankets look well as long as one thread holds to another? With a ‘heart-and-a-half!’ as we say out here. “Tf the blankets are very much soiled, shave two bars of wool soap into a granite saucepan; cover with soft warm water and set on the range to melt. Have in a great pot plenty of warm (not hot) water. Air, beat and brush the blankets well to get rid of all the fluff and dust. Put into a large tub three big pail- fuls of warm water. There should be ten or twelve gallons of it. Add a cupful of household ammonia, before stirring in the melted soap. Mix all well to- gether with the clothes-stick, and put in the blankets. Do not rub them on the wash-board, but souse them under, and shake them about vigorously, then squeeze them between your hands until you see that the dirt is out. If, when you lift them to the light, they look grimy, make a second suds like the first, and repeat the sousing, shaking and turning until you are satis- fied. Put through the wringer, if your hands are not strong enough to press all the wet out of them. They should not drip when hung on the line. It is well to add a little ammonia to the clear water in which they are rinsed before they are wrung out. ‘Hang them lengthwise on the lines, using plenty of clothes-pins. Make sure that a blanket is taut on the line, but do not strain the edges. Dry in the shade. While they are still damp go all over each 44 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK with a clean, new wire brush. An ‘electric’ hair. brush is good for this purpose. Brush with the nap; never against it. “This process may seem tedious, but experience has proved to me that there is no short cut to excel- lence in the washing of blankets.”’ A serious trouble with housewives and laundresses who have the management of flannels is the tendency of woolen fabrics to shrink in the wash. All-wool garments are so liable to this infirmity that many a clever economist insists on buying flannel that has a liberal admixture of cotton in it. It will not ‘‘full up’’ in tlie water and in the wearing. She, who is able to indulge herself and her family in the use of “‘natent’’ underwear at a cost of fifteen and twenty dollars a garment, is wise if she adds to the expense of the luxury by sending them every week to a pro- fessional cleaner, unless her home laundress be unus- ually skilful, and amenable to reason. It is a com- mon complaint with our housemother that servants, competent and docile in other respects, can not, or will not wash flannels in such a way as not to make them smaller and tighter each week, until they are, perforce, thrown aside when but half-worn. In an earlier chapter, I have expressed my indi- vidual opinion to the effect that hot water shrinks woolen goods of every kind. Yet I am constrained by a sense of justice, and by respect for an esteemed correspondent, to give for what it may be worth, a brief note on this head, that tells another story. MONDAY 45 ‘““My husband is a bit ‘pernicketty,’ as our old- fashioned people say, in the matter of flannels. He will have none but the best all-wool underwear and negligée shirts. His summer suits are of the same, and it goes without saying that they are an apple of discord in the laundry. To keep the peace below stairs—and, I might add, to keep my poor John out of the poor house—I wash the aforementioned gar- ments with my own hands, and he never suspects it! Every Monday morning, as soon as he is safely off to his office, I shut myself up in the bath-room with his outer and inner flannels, and then and there address myself seriously to the self-imposed task. I run the water in the tub until it is as hot as I can bear my hand in; plunge the precious articles into the steaming flood, soap them well all over—using none but old, white soap, kept in the store-room for this sacred purpose alone—and rub them on the wash-board, until every part has been rubbed and soaped. I have my own clandestine wringer, and I put them through it, then rush them through two clean, hot, rinsing waters, wring out the wet with my hands, and hang the cleansed valuables in the back yard. This last part of the process is all that I intrust to any hands save my very own, and I su- perintend this, to make sure they have the right ex- posure. When the flannels are half dry, they are hung in the sunny sitting-room, near an open win- dow, and I stretch them faithfully every ten minutes. : The success of the process depends largely upon 46 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK the rapidity with which each stage is conducted. It is a ‘rush order’ throughout. ‘“ “Tots of trouble?’ I don’t deny it, but my good- man wears his all-wools in gladness and singleness of heart, and there are no failures in the laundry be- cause nobody there would think the garments (or the wearer thereof) ‘worth all that fuss.’ I differ from the powers-that-would-be-if-they-could in this, as in other views. And I really take deep if secret satis- faction in the fact that each of these garments is worn with perfect comfort as long as the threads hold together. Furthermore, they outlast by months flannels washed in the ordinary way, and look well to the end. “As for the waste of time at which my fashion- able acquaintances would cavil if they suspected the ‘degrading’ trutb—I don’t play ‘Bridge’ and can, therefore, afford an hour a week spent thus. May I add a line of caution to other flannel~washers? Never put them (the flannels, not the washerwomen) into water in which cottons or linens have been washed, no matter how clean it may seem. There is always fine lint afloat in it that will be taken up by the flannels, making them hard and inclined to shrink.” HOW TO KEEP WOOLEN STOCKINGS FROM SHRINKING IN THE WASH Wash in the usual way, and while still damp, stretch upon wooden frames, cut to exactly the size MONDAY 47 of each stocking or sock—or, to speak with absolute correctness—a trifle larger. These may be bought at some shops, but a better plan for the mother of mod- erate means, is to get a thin smooth board—such as cotton fabrics are rolled on when put up for sale— and have her forms made at home. Lay one of each pair of hose smoothly on the board, attach it to the soft wood with pins, and pencil the outline on it very carefully, making it, as I have said, a very little larger than the stocking. Next, bore six holes in each to hasten the drying. The pattern may be cut through the board by any one who has a jack- knife and a steady hand. The boards may be had for the asking at any village store. It is, therefore, not a serious undertaking to provide a form for each member of the family who wears woolen hose. Boys’ winter stockings, worn with knickerbockers, being stout and often coarse, thicken—as dismayed mothers complain—until they are stiff as boards, while the baby’s knitted socks become all too small for him long before he has outgrown them. One pair of wooden forms for each will prolong the useful- ness of the foot-gear and save the mother much an- noyance. Woolens that have been badly shrunken in the wash may be improved, if not entirely restored to their former size, by the following ‘process: If you have not soap jelly on hand, dissolve shav- ings of white soap in enough boiling water to melt them, and when the ‘‘jelly”’ is cold and firm, stir into 48 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK a tubful of cold water. The size of the tub depends upon the number of clothes to be washed. If the flannels are soiled, add a little household ammonia just before they go into the water. Wash them as quickly as possible, using no more soap, pass them through the wringer, rinse in two cold waters, and wring dry with a few dexterous twists of a pair of strong hands. Dry in the shade, and quickly, stretching them every ten minutes. If these directions be obeyed to the letter, the ill- used garments will be soft and flexible when dry. TO CLEAN A CHAMOIS VEST Make a good warm suds of well-ripened white soap —add a tablespoonful of olive oil to a gallon of the suds, and wash as you would fine, all-wool flannel. Rinse in warm water and stretch on a form—a firm pillow, if you have no other. If, when you have dried it in the shade, there remain harsh places in the vest, rub them soft between the hands. If there be a lining take it out before washing. COLORED COTTONS If you have colored muslins, calicoes or ginghams to wash, mix a tablespoonful of ox-gall in each gallon of cold water, and leave the articles in this for two hours. Or—make a strong brine of fine salt and cold water, and soak the colored cotton in it before wash- ing quickly and drying it—always with the wrong MONDAY 49 side out—in the shade. Colored things fade more in the drying than in the tub. If, by inexcusable carelessness, the garment should get into the boiler and go through the boiling process with the white clothes, there are five-hundred chances against one that it will be irretrievably faded when it comes out. If the colors are not perfectly fast there are, likewise, as many chances in favor of in- jury to the rest of the contents of the caldron. A second boil in water liberally dashed with lemon- juice, or chloride of lime, may bleach the unwelcome tinge out of the white things. If anything will re- store lost color, it is a dip in household ammonia, slightly diluted. The odds are against you, still you may make the attempt. Moral: Set your colors before they go into the water, and keep colored and white things as far sep- arate as the limits of your laundry will allow. Let them typify the Jews and the Samaritans on one day of the week. > A tablespoonful of powdered alum dissolved in boiling water is a potent addition to the briny bath in which the ginghams, etc., should lie for two hours, or more, as a preparation for the tub. Repeat the ‘‘setting’’ every time the colored article is washed. A common blunder is to imagine that, once set, it needs no further treatment. A mistake, equally common and as disastrous, is to take for granted the paid washerwoman’s obedience to the injunction never to omit the preliminary stage. Should her em- 50 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ployer think it too much trouble to give personal at- tention to a matter that will consume, perhaps ten minutes, all told, of her morning, the hireling will reckon the salt-and-alum soaking as ‘‘notional,’’ and give it the go-by. I seek to impress these homely items in the toil and moil of Monday upon the mind and the housewifely conscience of my reader, because I know that colored cottons and linens may be kept bright and comely as long as they retain integrity of texture, if any one will but observe these simple and absurdly easy pre- cautions. Also, that there is nothing in the salt and alum which can rot the finest threads. The colors set, you may, if you wish to starch the cottons or linens, make a gallon of boiled starch in the usual way, and strain half of it into a tubful of soft warm—not hot—water. It must be more than lukewarm, yet not too hot for you to bear your hand init with comfort. Rub lightly and rapidly. Never let colored goods lie for one minute in the washing, or rinsing water, after they are once clean. Dilute the reserved half of the starch with warm water and use it in rinsing. Hang in the shade and dry. Or—and this is perhaps a better method to pursue with delicate tints and sheer, fine fabrics: Boil two quarts of clean wheat-bran in eight quarts of water for an hour, never fast, but steadily all the time. Turn out, and as soon as it is moderately cool, before it stiffens, strain through double cheese-cloth, pressing hard to get all the starch. If it is too thick, MONDAY, 51 add cold water until it is of the consistency of thin starch. (Wash your lawn, dimity, or gingham in this, using neither soap nor starch. The bran-water is both cleansing and stiffening. ‘A variation of this mode of doing up thin stuffs when black or dark blue, gray, or green—indeed when the color is so dark that the ordinary starch will impart a whitish look, is this: Put into a clean white muslin or cheese-cloth bag, a pint of wheat-bran; and lay it in as much boiling water as will suffice for each skirt or waist. Cover the vessel in which the bag lies, and set at the side of the range where it will keep hot, but not simmer, for one hour. Then squeeze and knead the bag hard in the water, and above it, untif no more liquid will exude from it. Stir a tablespoonful of borax into the water. (Wash the article you wish to clean in this preparation while it is quite warm, having, first, reserved a cupful for the rinsing water. This must be thinner than that in which the main washing was done. Shake, and clap several times between the hands. When nearly dry, iron on the wrong side over a double thickness of flannel. CHAPTER VI MoNnDAY (Concludedy. SILKS, BLACK, COLORED AND WHITE ‘A black silk gown which has long seen service and is hopelessly shiny on the right side and defaced by smears and stains and yet retains its integrity of warp and woof, is too good to throw away. No dressmaker would deign to renovate the old soldier, yet you feel that there is work in it for months to come. None of us women require to be told that the wardrobe which does not include a seasoned veteran in the shape of a three-quarters-worn black silk, lacks that which no new gown can supply. If you, the veteran’s fond proprietor, will reduce it to something like a decent show of capabilities, there are still abroad in the land seamstresses who have, they tell you proudly, ‘‘worked with a dress- maker’’? and are not above making over what the profession would condemn as a derelict. Provided, always, they are not expected to rip and clean. That depth of ignominy you must avoid by doing the work with your own hands. Ripping is an art. Unless you have, by rare good 52 MONDAY 53 luck, some humble-minded pensioner, too old-fash- ioned to resent the task proposed, and conscientious enough to bring to it the deftness learned in an earlier day—trust nobody but yourself to dissect the veteran. May I suggest as an alleviation of the hard- ship of the undertaking, that you set about it on some stormy evening when John has the time and the will to beguile the work of weariness by reading aloud while the keen scissors are plied ? In such circumstances, you will have patience to rip seams carefully, clipping each stitch, and resist- ing the disposition to tear down a whole breadth at one pull. When the breadths and sections of waist and sleeves are separated, brush out the dust, and wipe both sides of the silk with a bit of soft flannel. Spread, breadth by breadth, upon a sheet doubled upon a large table, and sponge what is hereafter to be the wrong side, with warm (not scalding) water in which peeled potatoes have been boiled into meali- ness. Strain the water through a cotton bag before using it. While the silk is yet damp fold it smoothly and. lay between folds of an old linen sheet until you are ready to iron it. It should be damp still when ironed on what was the right, and is to be the wrong side, leaving the other free from the gloss of the iron. Hang by the edges to dry, using plenty of clothes-pins. If there are grease spots on the silk, sponge freely with household ammonia before iron- ing. 54 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK TO WASH FAST-COLORED SILKS Having ripped the garment apart, make sure that the color will hold by washing a small sample of the goods in cold water with borax soap. If the origi- nal color does not stand the test, it is quite possible that it may fade agreeably, as it were, into a shade that is not displeasing to your eye, thus promising you a new gown. Wipe the silk on both sides with soft flannel. Have ready in a tub three gallons of warm suds made with old white Castile soap. Stir into this rap- idly a quart of household ammonia, put in the silk and wash it as you would a pocket-handkerchief, breadth by breadth; rinse all in clear, tepid water, shaking and squeezing, but not putting through the wringer. Roll four or five thicknesses of soft linen or cotton about a round stick—an old broom-handle will do. It should be perfectly smooth. Wind the breadths of damp silk on this, keeping each straight and taut. The silk should be about half-dry. When all are on, wrap the roll in dry linen and leave it alone for at least an hour. Finally, iron on the wrong side with an iron that is not hot enough to fade it. Silks that are badly soiled may be made to look fresh and crisp by following these directions. They must not lie in the water one minute longer than suf- fices for a rapid souse and rub, or the color will not be clear. MONDAY, 55 WASH-SILK WAISTS AND CHILDREN’S FROCKS The pretty wash-silks affected by young girls for shirt-waists and by mothers for children’s party frocks, must be carefully handled in the laundry, or they are not worth making up. They may be washed without ripping if the right means are used. If the garment be greasy from perspiration, or other causes, soak it for an hour in tepid water in which a little borax has been dissolved. See that the pail or tub in which you are to wash it is perfectly free from soil and grease. Delicate fabrics are sometimes ruined by carelessness in this respect. It is not enough that the tub was washed when set away after the last using. Scald and wipe it out now, with a clean, dry cloth. Make a lather of soft water and ‘‘ripe’’ Ivory soap. (Wash the waist quickly and faithfully in this. Do not use any soap in the pro- cess. If the suds are properly made you will need none. Pass from the suds into a rinsing-water, just lukewarm, and from this into a second. If the mate- rial be white or pale-blue, add a very little liquid blu-- ing to the second rinsing-bath. The rinse must be © thorough, as if any soap is left in the silk, it will yellow it. It may be advisable to have three waters to make all sure. In which case the dash of bluing should go into the last. The rinsing done, shake, and press out the wet by hand, wrapping the garment in a soft towel, and squeezing it through this to absorb the moisture. 56 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Iron while still so wet that the steam rises freely. Lay a piece of fine, thin muslin, or linen, between the silk and the iron. The latter must not be so hot as to risk streaking the moist silk by uneven drying. Press hard and steadily as you iron. When the silk is smoothed to your liking, take a fresh iron, rub it with especial pains and press the now perfectly dried garment on the wrong side, running the iron over it lightly and swiftly, without the muslin covering. One mother who does up her girls’ waists and gowns herself, gets a firm, but slight gloss by the ad- dition of a teaspoonful of dissolved glue to the third rinsing water. She lays stress upon the necessity of ironing before the silk is nearly dry, maintaining that the silk will never look well if suffered to dry before the heavy, hot iron presses it. TO WASH WHITE AND COLORED RIBBONS Pin the ribbon upon a board about which you have tacked a clean white cloth. Scrub the ribbon from ' end to end with a bit of white flannel wet with cold water to which you have added a little household am- monia. Having treated one side faithfully, draw out the pins, turn the ribbon and scrub the other side as thoroughly with a fresh piece of flannel. If the ribbon be very dirty, change the water three or four times. Dry upon the board in the sun, having wiped the ribbon repeatedly with a dry cloth until you can get no more moisture out of it. MONDAY 57 White ribbons may be bleached, in drying, by Sponging them with peroxide of hydrogen. Leave in the sun on the board until dry. Take from the board, cover with two thicknesses of an old cam- bric handkerchief, and press hard with a moderately hot iron through the cambric. A variation of the foregoing method is especially recommended for white ribbons and the faintly tinted taffeta and lutestring ribbons used for lingerie and which, being worn constantly, and coming into con- tact with the skin, must be washed often. Keep on hand a jar of soap-jelly made by boiling down scraps of fine toilet soap, saved for this pur- pose as they become too small to be used in the bath. Never throw away a bit, no matter how minute. The riper, the better. ‘Wet your ribbons in cold water and lay them on a flat surface. The marble slab of an old-fashioned table, or bureau, made perfectly clean and free from dust, is an excellent place for the operation. Dip a clean, rather firm, but not harsh tooth-brush into the jelly, then into cold water, and scrub the ribbons lengthwise until they are clean. Keep them smooth by holding one end down hard, while you work to- ward the other. Rinse three times in cold water, changing the water each time. The last water should be perfectly clear. Dip the ribbons up and down, in rinsing, holding one end, and handling as little as possible. While they are yet dripping wet, wind upon a smooth, clean bottle, taking care not to wrin- 58 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK kle the ribbon, and set in an airy window, out of the sun, to dry. Always dry silken stuffs in the shade. The sun draws them into wrinkles. Trim the frayed ends diagonally to prevent ravel- ling. In ironing lay a very fine piece of muslin or linen between the ribbon and the iron which should be but moderately warm, as I have directed in the preceding recipe. TO CLEAN A BLACK, OR DARK-COLORED WOOLEN SKIRT Other gowns may be more costly, and most of them are handsomer. None fulfils the end of its creation more faithfully than the ‘‘ rainy-day skirt.”’ It was never smart, perhaps, but it is all wool, holds its color and abides in strength when fancy fabrics go to the wall—+.e. the rag-bag, or rag-picker. If the man who saves his fellow (and sometimes his inferior) from ruin, be a benefactor, the sturdy garment whose mission it is to stand between better, because richer, raiment and needless wear and tear, should be accounted respectable, and renovated duti- fully when shabby in the service. If it be mud-stained at the bottom—and it is in- variably, albeit of walking length—falsely so-called —hbrush out all the loose dirt. May I remind you to do this in the open air? Our sidewalks are the chosen breeding-grounds of bacteria of the most ma- levolent type, and you have never considered it worth while to hold up the old short skirt. Beat and brush MONDAY 59 it out-of-doors, shaking steadily against the wind as long as the dust flies. Lay it, then, upon a table, and scrub the mud stains left above the hem with a freshly cut raw potato. This, by the way, will remove such spots and streaks from black silk when nothing else will. Next, spread and straighten each breadth, and sponge faithfully with stale beer. If you can get what is listed as ‘‘malt vinegar,’’ it is even better. Use it lavishly, and when one side has had full justice done to it, be as faithful with the other. Lastly, go all over the right side with a sponge dripping with alcohol. Hang in the air, but not in the sun, until almost dry, supporting by the belt and not sparing clothes-pins. Take it down, and iron on the wrong side through a damp cloth. SOAP-BARK AS A CLEANSER The best way of using it is to enclose it in small bags, or pads, each containing a couple of handfuls of the bark. Make several of these, keeping one for white flannels, cloths, etc., one for colored, one for black. The pads should be made of cheese-cloth. Spread the article to be cleaned upon a table cov- | ered with a clean white cloth. Have under your hand a bowl of tepid water in which you have stirred a tablespoonful of household ammonia. Dip your pad in this and hold there until soaked through. Wash the soiled gown or coat or trousers, with the wet pad, rubbing gently upon the spots. Then, with 60 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK a piece of dry flannel, or other woolen stuff, rub the whole surface dry, changing the cloth as it gets wet. If the washing and wiping be done well, you will be amazed at the dirt that comes away, and the re- newed look of the thing treated. Boys’ cloth trous- ers, men’s every-day coats, girls’ school frocks of serge, ‘‘mother’s’’ working-day gown of black de- laine, or merino, may be cleaned at home, with wonderfully little labor, and no expense beyond the purchase of ten cents’ worth of soap-bark. I lay much stress upon the department of domestic cleaning of materials not classed as washable, because the prices charged by professional cleaners are cruelly heavy to people of moderate means. It is a time-worn adage that the best thing is the cheapest in the long run. In subscribing to the truth of the platitude, I add a proviso:—The best thing must be cared for as befits its value, or it is not cheap. Dirt is a costly condition in any circumstances. The lack of personal cleanliness invites disease and doctor’s bills. The soaping, rubbing, boiling, rinsing and wringing needed to bring a badly soiled garment back to decency, tell upon its integrity more than a year of careful wear. It does pay to buy a good thing to begin with. It pays far better to use it without abusing it, when once bought. It pays well, and always, to get the good thing clean when legiti- mate wear has soiled it. For really excellent fabrics —like the best quality of human virtue—do not go to pieces in the wash. MONDAY 61 Lay it down as an axiom that nearly every all- wool, pure silk, real linen and round-threaded stuffs of whatever kind—will wash if they are handled ju- diciously. I had my lesson in the direction of this home truth, over forty years ago. I had worn a fine white, all-wool grenadine for several months. It was as good as it was pretty, and I grieved when it finally became so begrimed with town smoke and country dust as to be no longer presentable, even for rainy-day-at-home wear. I handed it over, with a lot of other past worthies, to my gardener’s wife who had a genius for making over castaways in the cloth- ing line for her little brood.. Ina few days she came to me with a matter that weighed upon her tender conscience. Upon her arm she bore the discarded gown—so spick-and-span that I could not believe the evidence of my eyes. I had apologized for offering it to her, saying that nothing could be done with it, but she might dye and utilize it for carpet-rags. ‘‘Seeing it was such nice material and knowing that real good stuff always washes well, I just put it into the tub, washed it careful, and ironed it while it was damp—and will you look at it? And so, feeling sure you would not have thrown it away if you had guessed what could be made of it, I didn’t think it was right for me to keep it,’”’—was the conclusion of the honest soul. Of course I would not revoke the gift, and the les- son was rubbed into my memory by the sight of the renovated grenadine made up for the present owner’s 62 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK eldest girl’s best gown, worn to church, Sunday after Sunday, all that summer. Moral: When a garment is too dirty for your use, try to get it clean before deciding that its period of usefulness in your service is at an end. CHAPTER VII TUESDAY, TRONING-DAY If ever the crisp order of the officer-in-command, “Clear decks for action!’’ should be issued and obeyed on the domestic frigate, it is on ironing-day. If your kitchen be, also, the laundry, the injunction, ‘ Stow close!’’ is added. Arrange culinary operations so as to have as little cooking done as is consistent with family comfort while ironing-table and clothes-horse occupy the cen- ter of the stage. A fretful hiss of fat in the direc- tion of a flat-iron, or a drip of gravy athwart a freshly laundered garment, is a disaster. Pots and saucepans crowd the top of the range when you re- quire all the available space for the irons. Meat and bread are likely to burn in the overheated ovens un- less they are watched closely, and nobody has time to watch the baking on ironing-day. These solicitudes are not fussiness. It is true economy of time and nervous forces to devote the greater part of one day to the serious task of getting what Yankee house- wives used to call, ‘‘the brunt of the ironing”’ out of the way of other and lighter duties. And, since this branch of domestic service, when begun, must pro- 63 64 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ceed ‘‘without haste, without rest’’ toward comple- tion, it behooves all who are to lend a hand in the task to plan cannily for each step in a way where not one may be skipped. An oblong table on which sheets and table-cloths may be spread at half-length, is a ‘“‘must have’’ to the trained laundress. The regulation ironing- board, supported at each end by stout legs attached to the board, and folding under it when not in use— or by the more primitive method of resting the board on the backs of two chairs—is all-sufficient for smaller articles, but as a foundation upon which heavy bed- and table-linen are to be manipulated it is a clumsy contrivance. Even when a clean sheet, kept for the purpose, is spread on the floor to keep the trailing folds from the dust, the necessity of fre- quent shiftings of counterpane or table-cloth to bring every part of it under the iron in its turn, adds sen- sibly to the labor of her who wields it. Table, and ironing- and bosom-boards must be covered with folds of flannel, or with an old blanket, in order to secure the degree of elastic firmness requisite to produce the soft glossiness pleasant to the housewifely eye. The jar upon the worker’s joints and muscles is much less for the slight yield- ing of the woolly substratum. Over this tack smoothly a stout cotton sheet made fast to the under- side of the board. This covering must be invariably clean. Damp cloths and hot iron will betray any stain or dust by transferring it to the article under TUESDAY 65 treatment. A scorch is a stain—a fact lost sight of by many a laundress who does not renew the ‘‘iron- ing-sheet”’ until it is dropping to ‘pieces under the vigor of her polishing strokes, and as sere as a No- vember oak-leaf. Then she wonders that her clothes are ‘‘dingied’’ in spite of her painstaking. Have at the laundress’ right hand a trivet, or ring, on which to set the iron in the intervals between active operations, and beneath it a square of asbestos. If you can not get asbestos, use a flat stone. A homely but efficient appliance for setting the iron on, and likewise for cleaning it is a piece of unpainted wire netting, such as is sold for window-screens, folded into a square of five or six thicknesses. It keeps irons free from rust if they be rubbed briskly on it now and then, and holds the heat for them. Within easy reach of the worker lay a block of folded wrapping paper on which to wipe the iron and to test its heat, and with the paper a cloth for re- moving dust and chance flakes of soot from the handle and top. A bit of beeswax or spermaceti, or, best of all, paraffin, should lie in a saucer near by. It imparts gloss to the iron but it should be used sparingly. An asbestos holder is an excellent thing, but any thick square, made of folds of flannel, Can- ton flannel, bed-ticking, calico—anything which will play the part of a non-conductor of the heat of the iron to the hand—will answer the purpose of the average laundress. The chief advantage of asbestos over the substances named is that a single fold laid 66 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK between two pieces of woolen or cotton stuff, will protect the hand, and be less clumsy than a multi- plicity of thicknesses. Should the irons be rough from disuse or damp- ness, rub them on a smooth board, on which has been strewed table salt. If they are in regular use and kept in a dry place when not employed, they will need no more friction than will be given by the wire netting spoken of just now. In preparing the clothes—dried and dampened and folded—for the ironing table, sort them intelli- gently, laying each kind in the order in which it is to be ironed. There is no surer token of inexperi- ence or slovenliness than when a laundress pulls out the contents of her clothes-basket, helter-skelter, to get at some articles left in the bottom which she would like to ‘‘do”’ first, or drags out whatever comes to hand and by whatever corner, tumbling all the rest into a damp, disorderly pile. In folding down yes- terday’s wash, she should have laid it in the order in which she is to attack it to-day. Begin with a couple of pillow-cases or towels— plain ironing—to make sure that your apparatus is in good running order; then take the fine, starched clothes, while day and energies are at their freshest. If there are embroideries, pull every scallop and point into shape. If they are too dry to be pliable, dampen with a sponge dipped into a bowl of warm water. This is another reachable accessory essential to the ironing-day outfit. When the embroidery is TUESDAY 67 quite ready for the iron, press steadily and hard on the wrong side, bearing your weight full upon the implement. Iron steadily and not fast. It is not imperatively necessary that you should thump! The rhythmic bump! bump! bump! rising from the scene of operations from morn to dewy eve of ironing-day reminds the well-read mistress of muffled drums ‘‘Beating funeral marches to the grave.’’ I can answer for one who has harkened to the lugubrious boom until nerves and patience gave way. I have in mind one strenuous and well-meaning laun- dress, who, in six months, battered the mortar and lath wall against which she chose to set her table, until it looked like the track left by a cannon-ball upon the outer fortifications of a besieged town. As you iron (without thumping!) table- and bed- linen, handkerchiefs and towels, fold, and press the folds into sharp, clean, straight creases, They will look neater and keep fresh longer for this final touch. When they have received it and are satisfactory in your sight, lay the smaller articles aside in neat piles. Hang the larger upon the clothes-horse to dry per- fectly and to get the full benefit of the air. Do this, with eare not to wrinkle them, and handle as gin- gerly when the hour comes for taking down the sweet, thoroughly dried clothes, and ranging them in orderly array in the hampers or trays in which the harvest of your two days’ toil is to be carried to the garner of linen-press and bureau-drawers. 68 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK I have known of households in the South where it was the pretty custom to drop a bit of orris-root tied in a cloth, into the boiler with the handkerchiefs, body-clothes and pillow-cases. It imparted what the French call a ‘‘soup¢on,’’ and we try to express by our translation of the word into a ‘‘suspicion,’’ of violet breath, faint, yet unmistakable and exquisite. It is so subtly suggestive as to make the lavender- scented sheets of our foremothers almost vulgar by comparison. A dainty conceit, as I have said, and stories of the elder days, when people took time to be ‘‘esthetic,’? as we phrase it now—make loving mention of lavender and dried rose-leaves lurking among the folds of linen sheets, fine as cobwebs. The big chests in which the flaxen treasures were hoarded from one generation to another, were redolent of these and of Spanish cedar linings. In our prosaic age we hold that clean linen should have no scent but that of its own ineffable purity. We contend, too, that it should be kept well-aired. There are icono- clasts who hint that the nameless odor, reminiscent of East Indian spices, and native rose-petals and gray lavender-blooms, and auld lang syne generally, that brought a lump to the returned wanderer’s throat, and poetry to his tongue—was largely com- pounded of must and dead air. So we make a point, and a sharp one, of admitting the winds of heaven freely to our linen-closets, and when we can afford the space, make the closet a windowed room. In the interests of modern sanitation, we write it down as a TUESDAY 69 rule without exception that linen (I use the word in the generic sense) that has a smell when it is put away as clean, is unwholesome. It was washed im- properly, or the taint of cold cookery clings to it, or it was imperfectly ventilated before it was consigned to the clothes-basket as a graduate from the laundry. Returning to our ironing-table, let me say a word of my own judgment as to sheets, linen and cotton. Certain latter-day writers on physiology, hygiene and cognate themes, deprecate ironing them except at the hems. One authority, too eminent to be lightly questioned, asks boldly and baldly: ‘¢Why iron them at all? Fold them in the middle, then across again; lay on the table and smooth with your hand as you fold. Finally, press the hems with a hot iron and hang the sheets up to air. Can’t you see the sanitary wisdom of all this? The air circu- lates freely between the meshes that are not crushed flat. You will sleep more healthfully between un- ironed bed-clothes.’’ Our Eminent Authority may be in the right, and [I may be an unsanitary, unprogressive Sybarite, wedded to ideals which advanced thinkers and doers have long ago cast to the moles and bats. For, I will have my sheets ironed all over and faithfully. ‘‘Same as a pocket-handkercher!’”’ as I overheard a char- woman say who was hired to assist the laundress. Consulting Mrs. Parsons McPherson’s capital lit- tle manual, Ethics of Household Economy (which should have a place in every housemother’s library), 70 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK I note that even she discourages the ‘‘waste of time, strength and fuel’’ involved in the ironing of sheets. Yet she adds: ‘‘If they are for your spare bed, then iron the whole surface.’’ Catching at this goodly straw, I elect to regard my especial and well-beloved couch—my friend and com- forter—as a spare bed. In my stubborn old-fash- ionedness, I rest better and maintain my self-respect more surely despite ‘‘crushed meshes,’’ when I ‘‘lay me down to sleep’’ between sheets that have been thoroughly aired and retain the smoothness and crisp creases made by the swift passage of a hot iron throughout their length and breadth. “Tf I were Queen of France, Or, what’s better, Pope of Rome,—’’ I should have my sheets renewed daily, always sleep- ing within fair, fresh linen in summer, cambric in winter, ironed all over, and on both sides. The crushed meshes may be non-sanitary. Hence, they may be naughty. They are nice! Tf you would keep the irons in perfect order, wash them when the last bit of work is disposed of for the day, wiping them dry, and set them away in a dry closet where they will gather neither dampness nor grime during their rest time. If any moisture clings to them from the washing, it will tell the tale of neg- lect the first time they are used. It is prudent to leave them on the range for a few minutes after wip- ing them, to make assurance sure. TUESDAY, a Wind an old sheet around the ironing boards and put aside where you will not stumble over them and where they will not get dirty for the rest of the week. The precaution will save annoying delay and extra work the following Tuesday. If the weather has been clear and fine, and the laundry is airy, the clothes may be taken up-stairs on the evening of the day in which they were ironed. If you have no room except the kitchen to do your laundry work in, and there is no hall or disused room in some other part of the house where the things may be aired overnight, do not leave them down-stairs to absorb the smells of cooking dnd greasy dish-water. We are all of us unpleasantly familiar with what we have never found a better name for than ‘‘the kitchen smell.’? It means cold fried grease, the reek of hot suds in which soiled pots and pans have been cleansed, and a ‘‘blend’’ of cooked vegetables, tea, coffee, hot sweets, and in summer fruit parings and cores. No need to proceed with the loathsome analysis! Clothes, washed to the last degree of pu- rity, and sterilized from all possible bacterial in- fluences by hot irons, if allowed to hang in the “‘blend’’ for five, eight, or ten hours, during which time windows and doors are closed for the night,— become hopelessly interpenetrated with the abomina- tion, and retain it. I have been sickened by it in church, my chance neighbor in the next pew exhaling it in whiffs, the French scent (at two dollars a bottle) with which 72 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK she drenched her handkerchief that morning, could not ‘‘down.’’ I have been put to sleep in sheets, beautifully ironed (on both sides!). which gave out the vile reek, as they were warmed by the heat of my body. I have, times without number, recognized the indescribable and as unmistakable effluvia in glossy napkins unfolded at private, and at hotel tables. No matter how strait your cottage or apartment, don’t, if you can help it, leave your newly-ironed clothes, bed-linen and napery to air overnight in a close kitchen. The finer the material the more sus- ceptible is it to the deadly taint. Even ‘‘crushed meshes”’ are not immune. Keep a large square of mosquito-netting to throw over the laden clothes-horse, draping it so loosely as to permit a free passage of air, while it protects the articles under it from flies and dust. In transferring the clothes to the basket that is to take them to their several destinations, consider the convenience of her who is to unpack and put them | away. In common with hundreds of other house- mothers, I have, throughout my domestic life, kept up the habit of doing this with my own hands, sort- ing and inspecting with critical eyes, assigning to each room and shelf and closet and drawer its right- ful supply of clean ‘‘things.’’ I speak from experi- ence, therefore, in touching upon the need that each article of a kind shall be laid with others of the like class. A jumble of handkerchiefs, stockings, skirts, TUESDAY 73 towels and bureau-scarfs is a grievance to the meth- odical sorter. When table-linen is added. to the ‘‘mix,’’ it approximates indecency. In folding sheets, contrive, whether they are for double or single beds, to have them, when put up, of uniform shape and apparent size. They fit more evenly upon the shelves where they should be laid with the closed folds outward, the open edges toward the wall. The difference in the general appearance of a linen-closet where this rule is observed and one in which towels and sheets are piled on the shelves, without regard to it, is so marked as to call for no special comment. CHAPTER VIII WEDNESDAY BAKING-DAY “The Home-made Loaf’’ stands with so many of us as a symbol of the wholesome good cheer belovéd in our childhood’s days that we are disposed to class the phrase with traditional open fireplaces, dough- nuts, ‘‘such as mother used to make,’’ and other rem- iniscences of ‘‘the days that are no more.’’ In fact, it is a family stand-by that should never go out of fashion in town and in country. One feature of our pressing, headlong, breathless, national life is that fewer households depend upon home-cookery with every year that rushes by. The rage for contract work and specialties has crept, like blood-poison, into every department of domestic service. What Douglas Jerrold stigmatized as ‘‘the Greatest Plague of Life,’’ in driving thousands of families into hotels and boarding-houses, has per- verted their taste for home-made bread, cakes and puddings. Vienna rolls and long sticks of crusty French bread represent the staff of life upon which our ancestors leaned much of their weight. Confec- tioners’ pastry, flaky and translucent with lard and (alleged) butter has superseded the puff-paste our 74 WEDNESDAY 75 mothers compounded with their own dainty hands, never intrusting the delicate art to hirelings, no mat- ter how capable. Real pound cake is now almost an article of virtue, and sponge cake no longer melts in the mouth of the enchanted eater. In saying that our domestics—of whom a witty woman says that they and their employers’ evil case were foretold two thousand years ago, inasmuch as they grow poorer every year and we have them al- ways with us—are responsible for the decline and fall of home-bakery, I speak by the card. Forty years ago, the first question put by the prospective mistress to the candidate for the place of cook in her kitchen was, ‘‘Are you a good baker ?’’ The term covered all manner of breads, biscuits, muffins and griddle-cakes, family pie-crust (the mis- tress, as I have observed, making the finer pastries herself), plain cakes, custards and puddings. No bread was bought unless the cupboard were emptied by sudden calamity. Baker’s bread was sawdust and starch to the palate accustomed to honest loaf and biscuit. Baker’s cake was voted by old and young “¢ tolerable, and not to be endured.’’ Baker’s pies were inadmissible to any well-ordered table. While it is true that bakeries have kept pace with the growing demands for their products, and that these last have improved in quality no less than in quantity, the advance does not justify the scorn with which the cook-lady of the twentieth century repels the modest suggestion slid by the candidate for the 76 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK honor of the cook-lady’s residence under her roof, between the queries with which the candidate is plied,—‘‘Can you make bread ?”’ To one such meek suggestion an especially lofty personage retorted: ‘An’ I take lave to say as yez is the only leddy as has iver asked me to do it? The quality all takes their bread from the Frinch partisserers.”? (Pre- ' sumably patisseries.) This is an extreme case, perhaps, but housewives will support my assertion that the percentage of ‘‘competent cooks’? who can make sweet, wholesome bread is so small, and the unwillingness to do home baking so general among our servants as to forecast the probability that in another decade no self-re- specting cook-lady will condescend to practise the ob- solete art. Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney (Heaven rest her sweet and noble soul!) predicted, a quarter-century ago, that the time is near when wives and daughters who per- sist in living in homes and not in hostelries, must do their own housework. I have daily evidence that there are still in these United States at least seventy times seven thousand women who have not bowed the knee to the Baal of folly and fashion, nor kissed him with their lips. ‘When home and home-comfort become idle words in our country, they will have left the world. The inference of all this is plain. If we and our Jgohns abhor the shortened sawdust and sweetened WEDNESDAY TF starches of the ‘‘partisserers,’’ and are determined to feed our households with food convenient for growing children and hard-working adults, and our imported cook-lady will not demean herself to the ex- tent of making bread, we must do it ourselves. In the pages that are to follow this disquisition, I shall try to show that baking is not menial labor, when rightly performed. We have illustrious pre- cedent for ranking it among the more dignified branches of housewifery. Jane Carlyle was born a gentlewoman. She may have been a bit of a shrew after years of invalidism and Carlyleism had worn her nerves to tatters. But she had good blood in her veins, and common sense in her pretty head, and ‘she was a worthy companion in intellect for the most dis- tinguished author of his day. He would live in a farm-house, secluded from town and society, because the sight of visitors and the noise of the streets dis- tracted his thoughts from his writing. His wife— well-born and delicately reared—had to do the cook- ing for a dyspeptic husband, including what she, at first, railed at as a degradation—the mixing, raising and baking of the loaves, brown and white, that made up, with oatmeal porridge, the staple of her lord’s diet. When, on winter nights, the dough rose slowly, she sat up with it, as she would with a sick child. In one of these dreary vigils, she had a revelation. She was as well-read in certain lines as the great scholar to whom she was bound, and she had not to explain her 78 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK meaning when she wrote to him of her revelation, the next morning. ‘“‘After all, in the sight of the higher Powers, what is the mighty difference between a statue of Perseus and a loaf of bread, so that each be the thing that one’s hand has found to do? The man’s determined will, his patience, his energy, his resource, were the really admirable things of which his statue of Per- seus were the mere chance expression. If he had been a woman living at Craigenputtock, with a dys- peptic husband, sixteen miles from a baker, all these same qualities would have come out more fully in a good loaf of bread.’’ It would seem to be a far cry from the Italian sculptor, sleepless and wan with anxiety, awaiting the action of the furnace fire upon the bronze that was to win for him immortal renown, and the tired cook in the Scottish kitchen, who could not go to bed until the dough in the kneading-trough had doubled the original bulk. But the sharp-witted reader of the classic anecdote took the flight in fancy, and drew comfort from the inspiration. Of Emily Bronté’s soul Swinburne says,— “Tt knew no fellow for might, Passion, vehemence, grief, Daring,—since Byron died.’’ Not the least interesting spot in the old Yorkshire Parsonage where the wonderful sisters wrought and suffered and died, is the corner of the quaint kitchen WEDNESDAY 79 where Emily was wont to stand on baking-day, kneading the dough with strong deft hands, her shapely arms bared to the elbow, her eyes fixed, in the intervals of the task, upon the German book propped against the wall ‘‘out of reach of flour-dust or spatter of yeast.’’ She did all the baking of the family that had a dyspeptic father as its head. Her learned preceptor in the Continental school in which she studied music and foreign languages, be- coming proficient in everything to which she bent her mind, said: ‘‘She is too great for a woman. She should have been a man—a great navigator.’’ One biographer writes: ‘‘Her reason was powerful, and in grasp sublime; her turn for logical demonstration was phenomenal.’’ Her humble neighbors in that hamlet on the York- shire moors knew her but as the ‘‘ Parson’s daughter who made the best bread in Haworth.’’ I have talked with them and heard their commendation of her housewifery, particularly of her beautiful darn- ing and her ‘‘main good luck in baking.’’ I recalled it all when a woman sneered, the other day, at my talk of bringing housework up to our level, instead of letting it pull us down to a lower plane. Now for the details of one of the most important branches of our housemother’s profession : The fundamental principle of every species of the genus bread—the informing and vivifying life of loaf, biscuit or muffin—is that which makes it rise! 80 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Dear old stories of the Scottish peasantry make fre- quent mention of ‘‘barm.’’ Our American fore- mothers held yeast-making to be an essential branch of housewifely art. It was a domestic calamity when the weekly brew failed, and not an uncommon occur- rence for a messenger to be sent to a neighbor a mile away, for a cupful of lively yeast as a ‘‘starter’’ of the new supply for the luckless cook. Compressed yeast, patented by a wealthy corpo- rate body and sold in every township, has changed all that. Sometimes the yeast-cake is fresh. Some- times it is stale. In the latter case the cook has no redress. In the depths of my housewifely conscience I have grave doubts as to the quality of the patented yeast-cake when compared with the creamy spume that rushed into sight when ‘‘mother’s’’ yeast jug was uncorked. I have misgivings that the bread is not so sweet and tender as in the day that antedated telephone, trolleys and baking-powders. Right sure I am that if I lived in the country the year round, and did my own baking, I should not sink into dependence upon the green dog-cart that drops the yeast-cake at the kitchen door twice a week. I should make my own yeast, as I did thirty years agone. I thought it no hardship then. You, my very much younger pupil, whose righteous soul is sore vexed by the shortcomings of patent ‘‘raisers,’’ will win peace of mind and certainty of right results which will more than compensate for the labor, if you will make your own yeast. In the fond hope of WEDNESDAY 81 persuading you into this step, I append to this famil- iar talk, directions for preparing old-fashioned, hon- est home-made ‘‘barm,’’-Anglicé—yeast. HOP YEAST Peel six potatoes of fair size, taking care to have the skins as thin as possible, as much of the starch of the potato lies nearest the outside covering. Tie a large cupful of good fresh hops in a bit of cheese- cloth, and put with the potatoes into a pot containing two quarts of cold water. Cover, and boil until the potatoes break to the heart. Lift them with a skim- mer, leaving the hop-bag in the water, and the water on the fire. Mash the hot potatoes in a bowl, and work into them four tablespoonfuls of flour and two of granulated sugar. Moisten this paste with the boiling hot tea, from the pot, stirring to a smooth batter. When you have used up the tea, squeeze the bag hard into the batter to get out all the strength of the hops. Let the mixture get lukewarm, add four tablespoonfuls of lively yeast, or if this be your first barm-making, a yeast-cake, dissolved in warm water. Strain the batter through a colander to free it from possible lumps, and turn into an open bowl to ‘“work.’’ Throw a piece of mosquito netting over it to exclude the dust, and set in a moderately warm place until next day. In warm weather six hours will be sufficient for fermentation and quiescence. When it no longer casts up bubbles to the surface, put into glass jars, fit on the tops and store in the refriger- 82 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ator, the cellar, or the ice-house. It is well to use pint jars, as they should be opened as seldom as is practicable. When you are ready to mix bread, take out the quantity you need, close the jar and return immediately to the ice or the cellar. Never bring the jar into the warm kitchen. This yeast will keep good for a fortnight in summer, for a month in winter, if kept closely corked, or covered with air-tight tops. POTATO YEAST The taste and odor of hops are so disagreeable to some persons that they can detect—or imagine that they can—the flavor in bread raised with hop, other- wise called ‘‘brewer’s yeast.’’ For the benefit of such, and because the substitute is like rich cream in appearance, pleasing to the eye and making beauti- fully white bread—also for the use of housewives who can not get hops at call—I offer this variation upon the original “‘barm.”’ Pare six fine mealy potatoes. (Old and waxy pota- toes do not make good yeast.) Put over the fire in two quarts of cold water and boil to breaking. Strain them out without stirring, and return the water to the fire. Mash the potatoes fine, with four table- spoonfuls of flour and two of sugar. In doing this, add the boiling water from the pot, gradually until all is used. When the batter is lukewarm, stir in a cupful of lively yeast, set aside in an open vessel to work, and throw a square of netting over it to keep out dust and insects. When it ceases to bubble, put WEDNESDAY 83 the yeast into small jars, cover and keep in a cool place. HOME-MADE YEAST CAKES Pare and slice eight fine mealy potatoes, and put into two quarts of cold water with a cupful of fresh hops tied in a cheese-cloth bag. Boil forty-five min- utes after the bubble begins. Take out the hop bag, straining and squeezing it hard to get out all the strength. Pour the hop-tea and the potatoes into a bowl through a colander, rubbing the potatoes well until all have passed the holes. Set back on the fire and stir into the mixture two cups of flour wet up with cold water. Take from the fire, and cool to blood warmth, after beating smooth. Add two great spoonfuls of lively yeast, throw a bit of netting over the open bowl and let it rise. It should quadruple the original bulk. Now, knead into the paste a cup- ful of white Indian meal; roll out into a sheet a quar- ter-inch thick, and cut into round cakes. Dry in the hot sun in summer, in an open oven in winter. They must be dried—not baked. To cook them would vitiate their vitality. It is a good plan to put them into a cooling oven at bedtime, and leave them there until morning. When quite dry, put into a muslin bag and hang them in a cool, dry place. If properly made and thoroughly dried, they keep for a month without losing strength. Use as you would patent yeast cakes. ‘A cake the size of an ordinary tumbler will make two loaves. Soak soft in lukewarm water, stir in a mere pinch of soda, and work into the dough. CHAPTER IX WEDNESDAY (Concluded) BREAD-MAKING Before entering upon the actual process of mak- ing the loaf, have all materials in readiness. The work should proceed by regular stages, with no need- less delays. _ In no way does the unmethodical housewife ad- vertise indifferent ‘‘management’’ more plainly than by neglect of the simple rule: Have your tools and stuff laid to your hand before you begin the work laid out for you. The’ woman who has to make a separate journey to cupboard, pantry, refrigerator or cellar for each ingredient, wonders why she finds cookery so much more exhausting than her neigh- bors do. Such an one complained to me that she had to wash her hands four times while she was making one cake: “You know you just can’t bear to take hold of a door-knob, or turn a key with sticky, floury hands.”’ If I bethought myself that she would not have been obliged to touch knob or key, had sugar, eggs, 84 WEDNESDAY, 85 flour, milk and spices been collected and ‘‘in beau- teous order ranged’’ on the table beside her, flanked by egg-beater, bowls and spoon—I kept my counsel to myself. Nobody thanks her friendliest friend for gratuitous advice. It was none of my business if she washed her hands forty-four times in an hour, and was so tired by the time the cake was in the oven that she had to lie down for the rest of the forenoon. Next in importance to yeast among the tools and stuffs for bread-making is flour. Of course, none but the best quality should be used for the loaf. Ex- perienced bakers will assure you that, while it is pos- sible to make fairly good biscuits and very good griddle-cakes of the second best brand, the attempt to manufacture risen bread of it would be time, labor and materials thrown away. The general principle is sound. When you can procure the best family flour, and afford to pay the market price for it, get it, by all means. Now and then this is not feasible. Or, as sometimes happens, the ‘‘best’’ belies the name. Test it by taking up a handful and squeezing it hard. If it retains the impress of palm and fingers, and has, moreover, the feeling of powdered chalk, or lime, when rubbed between thumb and finger, or if it has any odor whatever—it is not fine ‘‘family flour.’? If you can not exchange it, you may im- prove it to a degree that will make it tolerable. One of the faults of flour which should have been excellent, having been ground from ripe, sound, well- a 86 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK dried wheat, is that it was not thoroughly seasoned when it was packed in the barrel. It was barreled in damp weather, or so soon after grinding that what some call ‘‘the mineral heat,’’ was not quite out of it. To overcome this disadvantage, transfer from bag or barrel, to another receptacle. Take out several quarts at a time, sift it and pour into a box or into’ two barrels, letting it lie lightly, to correct the effect of tight packing while it was damp. If you have but a small quantity on hand, sift it twice and set it in the open oven for twenty minutes, or thereabouts, stirring and tossing it frequently while the drying is going on. Some good cooks give every baking the benefit of this process, insisting that it makes good flour better, and corrects indifferent. The flour should be cooled before it is mixed into dough. POTATO SPONGE BREAD ‘Allow four potatoes of fair size to a baking which will require three quarts of flour. Boil and mash them while hot, working into the pasty mass a, table- spoonful of butter and as much white sugar. Thin with three cupfuls of warm (not hot) water; strain through a fine colander to get out the lumps, and add, a handful at a time, a pint of dry, sifted flour. Now, put in the yeast—half a cupful if it be liquid, or half a cake of compressed yeast. The cake should have been dissolved in a little lukewarm water. Beat the mixture for three or four minutes—hard! I hope you have a bread pan or bowl with a perfor- WEDNESDAY 87 ated top. If not, throw a clean, light towel over the sponge bowl, and set in a rather warm place, where there will be no violent change of temperature during the eight hours in winter, the six hours in summer needed to raise it. If all be well with the sponge, you will see, when the cover is lifted, a rough, porous mass which justi- fies its name. It should have trebled, perhaps quadrupled the original bulk, and, when. handled, should break into tender ropes. Should the gas es- caping from the crevices made by the hand, have an acrid or sour odor, dissolve half a teaspoonful of soda in warm water, and beat it thoroughly into the sponge. If the beating be superficial, you will have streaked bread—a sure sign of slovenly baking. Sift two quarts and a pint of dry flour into a bread-tray or a big bowl. It must be clean and dry. If you use a wooden tray, scald and sun after each using. If a metal bowl, do the same. Hollow out the center, leaving a deep pit. Pour the sponge into this, and work the flour down into it with a wooden spoon. When the spoon can no longer man- age it, wash your hands in cold water, wipe them dry and begin kneading. See to it, at this juncture, that the dough is soft and pliable. It should fall from the fingers when lifted, in graceful streamers, instead of in clumsy gouts. In a word, mix the dough as soft as it can be handled. To get the full benefit of the sponge which is the life of the bread, rinse out the bowl in which it was raised, with warm 88 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK water, and add to the dough. If the dough be of the proper consistency, you will find it leaving the sides of the tray of itself as the kneading goes on. Work it into a ball, and thump it with the double fists, lustily, aiming every blow at the heart of the lump, and turning as you strike it. It is fine exer- cise, and more graceful than swinging dumb-bells. Don’t be afraid of dealing too vigorously with your subject. It likes it! and grows in comeliness under it. In fifteen minutes, if you have dealt justly with it, you will have an elastic ball that springs back gaily from each attack. If you thrust a finger into it, the hole closes instantly. Make the dough into a round mass; sprinkle flour in the bottom of the bowl, or tray, and over the dough; put on the perforated cover, or throw the cloth over the bowl, and set by for a first rising. In warm weather the time required for this varies from three to four hours. In cold weather it may not be accomplished under six. ‘You must have a knead- ing-board for the next stage of the fine art. The board must be absolutely clean, free from signs of former usage, and guiltless of the rancid smell which in households I have known seems to be accepted as a necessity. Bread, at any period of development, is intensely sensitive to uncleanness of any kind. It absorbs tastes, odors, dampness and must, with in- credible rapidity. The kneading-board should be used for nothing outside of its legitimate purpose. As soon as the dough is off, it should be scraped WEDNESDAY 89 clean, scalded, then wiped dry, lastly set in the sun. If the day be cloudy, leave it upright on a chair near the fire until it is dried to the heart. A slab of marble is better for kneading bread than wood. Nor is the substitute as costly as one might suppose. In many an attic, or among the rubbish in the builder’s back-shop, may be found the top of a table, or washstand, or part of a discarded mantel, that may be utilized by our housewife. Marble tops have ‘‘gone out,’’ and such remnants of what our grandmothers considered elegant plenishing, may be had for the asking, or the finding. Or, squares of refuse marble may be bought for a trifle at marble yards. The advantage of marble over hard woods is the superior cleanliness, first, and mainly. It does not absorb dirt and odors, and is easily cleansed. A secondary recommendation is the coldness of the stone. This will be appreciated most highly by the pastry-maker, but it is a good thing in bread-making also. The kneading-table, board or slab is sprinkled with flour, and the ball of dough is transferred to it. If the first kneading were a pretty task, the present business is prettier. Working always from your body, punch and toss and roll the yielding mass, now so elastic that it is a joy to handle it. It does not adhere to well-floured hands, and it grows lighter and more buoyant with every stroke. Fifteen minutes of the play suffices, all else being 90 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK propitious. Break off bits of the dough, form into rolls or into loaves, and arrange in the baking-pans for the final raising. Grease the pans well before the loaves go in. Cover with light cloths, and let the bread rise until it is at least twice as high and plump as when it went into the pans. While this is going on, see that your ovens are getting ready to do their part in the worthy work. Heat them thoroughly, and so manage the stored heat that it shall not fail you while the baking is in pro- gress. There must be coal or wood enough in the range to last until the bread is ready to be withdrawn from the oven. To lower the temperature by put- ting in fresh fuel, would be disastrous. Test the heat by holding your bare arm in the open oven while you count twenty-five deliberately, or, by setting a tin plate containing a little flour at the back of the oven, and shutting the door. Look at it in five min- utes. If it has begun to brown delicately, it is safe to risk your bread to the steady oven’s care. In ten or twelve minutes more, open the door an inch or two, and glance at the bread. When it has filled the pans, cover with clean white or brown pa- per (never with printed or written sheets) of light weight. Heavy paper would hinder the rising, and adhere to the crust. The philosophy of the paper covering is that the crust, if formed before the bread has gained its full height, would make the center of the loaf heavy. Neglect of the simple precaution accounts for many a streaked and soggy loaf. WEDNESDAY 91 Ten or twelve minutes before the bread is taken from the oven remove the paper to let the crust brown. A quart loaf will bake in an hour. You may test it by running a fine clean knitting-needle into the heart of the loaf. A little practice will make you familiar with the humors, the tricks and the manners of your par- ticular oven. It is not practicable to lay down cast- iron rules as to the time required to bring bread, biscuits and cake to the precise point beyond which scorching and hardening begin, and short of which lie sogginess, viscidity and general uneatableness. In drawing the plump, browned loaves from the oven, turn the pan gently upside down upon a clean cloth, shaking very slightly, should they adhere at any point. Prop each on the edge, leaning against a box or wall at an angle that will allow the air to pass around them. This will prevent ‘‘sweating.’’ Wait until they are quite cold before you put them into a bread-box lined with clean cloth. Cover them with another clean linen towel. Keep these linen towels for this purpose, and this alone, and wash them frequently. Bread is hardly second to milk and cream as an absorbent. One sour slice will impart acidity to the rest of the contents of the box. Therefore keep a second box for the ‘‘heels’’ of loaves, and scraps that may be utilized in puddings, in breading chops and ecroquettes, and thickening bisques. Both tins should be scalded and sunned twice a week. 92 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK MILK BREAD Directions for making milk bread are given for. the benefit of the many who persist in the belief en- gendered by country-bred mothers, that it is sweeter, moister and more wholesome than bread mixed with water. That it sours more quickly weighs nothing against the superior quality of the toothsome loaf. The novice will do well to try her prentice hand upon the following formula, as simpler, and, mayhap, surer in results than the Potato bread. Scald—without actually boiling—two cups of milk and stir into it a tablespoonful of butter. While it is cooling to blood-warmth, sift two quarts of flour into a mixing bowl, adding, prior to sifting, a tea- spoonful of white sugar and half as much salt. When the milk is lukewarm, add a pint of water of the same temperature, and half a cake of compressed yeast dissolved in half a cupful of warm water. If you use liquid yeast, put in four tablespoonfuls. Pour the mixture into a hollow made in the mid- dle of the flour, and with a wooden spoon work all into asmooth dough. This done, turn the mass upon a kneading-board or marble slab, and knead pa- tiently and faithfully for ten minutes. It should be light and elastic, leaving board and hands without sticking. Set to rise in a bread-bowl, with a per- forated top. See that it is left in a corner where no drafts can reach it—and keep the temperature even. If too warm, the dough will sour. If too cold, it WEDNESDAY 93 will refuse to rise. Cooks say that bread-dough ‘“‘takes cold as easily as babies.’’ In six hours your dough should be ready for the second rising. Make into three or four loaves, knead each portion for five minutes and put into a greased pan. Cover with a light cloth, and let all stand for an hour longer. Bake in a steady oven. QUICK BREADS Under this head come biscuits of all denomina- tions, muffins, griddle-cakes, scones, waffles, buns, gems, shortcake—the which, if recipes were written out for all of them, would consume the entire space alloted for this book and overflow into another vol- ume. And—be it borne in mind (I, for one, am tempted to forget it) this is not a book of recipes. The same general rules are to be observed in the manufacture of all quick breads. If baking-powder be used, it should be sifted twice with the flour before the flour is wet. The salt should be sifted at the same time. This precaution insures thorough incorporation of the ingredients. Baking-soda must not be used in such breads (or in cake) unless there appear also in the list of ma- terials, some corresponding acid to act, with the al- kali, in producing effervescence. Neglect of this chemical rule is responsible for biscuits mottled with greenish streaks, familiar to commercial travelers whose territories include back-country districts, and for the bitterish taste of a certain type of baker’s 94 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK cake. Sour milk, molasses, lemon, and other fruit- juices, cream of tartar, and raw and cooked fruits are some of the agents in common use for the accom- plishment of that which makes quick breads light. If in reckoning up your ingredients, you note soda among them, look for the complemental acid. If it be wanting from the list, let the recipe alone. The conditions of lightness are absent, and unmitigated soda is caustic, unwholesome and unpalatable. Quick mixing is another essential in making the class of breads and cakes we are considering. Have all your materials and tools at hand when you begin operations. Sift the flour, cream the butter and sugar, and measure spices; if lemons or oranges, or dried fruits are to have a part in the composition, they should be ready to go in before you crack an ege. After the business is begun it should be ecar- ried forward, without a break, to completion. Steady baking is a sine qua non to success. The oven should be heated to the right temperature, and held at it from the moment biscuits, muffins or cakes go in until they are taken out. To add coal while baking is in actual process, is to invite disaster. The provident and experienced housemother keeps on hand a supply of coarse brown or white paper of suitable size for covering bread and cakes while they are in baking. By the time batter or dough is fairly ‘‘set’’ so that the paper will not stick to it, cover, and do not remove until you are sure the cake, biscuit or muffin is cooked to the core. If obedient to this WEDNESDAY, 95 rule, you will have neither streaked cake nor burnt biscuits. Do not open the oven every few minutes ‘‘to see how the breads are getting on.’’ When you must look in to lay the paper over the pans, open the door just far enough to admit the hand, slip in the cover- ing and shut up the oven as quickly as possible. Do this as quietly as you would close the nursery-door where a nervous baby is sleeping. Some of the more delicate order of breads and cakes are startled out of propriety by a heavy tramp upon the kitchen- floor, or the bang of an outer door. The violent jar of the oven-door will cause the fall of a soufflé, a méringue, a batch of “gems,”’ or the hopeless flat- tening into sullenness of sponge cake. After the bread or cake goes into the oven, do not transfer it to another unless it has stiffened into consistency so pronounced that the change can not make it sink in the center or droop at the sides. If it be virtually ‘‘done’’ and needs to be browned in a brisker oven, you may risk the change of climate. An immature production is almost sure to come to grief in the transition. CHAPTER X THURSDAY DETERSIVES In this chapter little attention will be paid to what one correspondent classifies as ‘‘honest, every-day dirt.’ While we live and move and have our daily being in a world the very air of which is dust-laden, our clothing, our draperies, our napery and our per- sons must gather soil and grime. If this were evitable, laundries would go out of business. Acci- dental stains and discoloration are another branch of an important, if disagreeable subject; a branch that borders upon the tragic. One lively woman writes: “‘So numerous have been the spillings, the slop- pings, the leakages, and the scorchings in my house- hold of late that I am more accustomed to the réle of Lady Macbeth than to any other. I go about, with dreary eyes and distraught mien, rubbing at real not (alas!) imaginary spots—muttering insane ejaculations. My husband threatens to have me thus photographed.”’ To save other women from the like distraction, I offer, herewith, certain detersives that have been tried and found faithful, when properly applied. 96 THURSDAY 97 INK SPOTS On the skin: Authors, editors, bookkeepers—all classes and conditions of men and women who write much, should have ever within easy reach, a bottle of real spirits of hartshorn. Household ammonia is excellent in its way for cleansing clothing, etc. If used instantly, it will remove superficial ink stains. The pure spirits of ammonia acts quickly and effect- ively. Keep upon wash-stand or desk a small bottle, with a glass or rubber stopper, full of spirits of ammonia. If, in filling a fountain-pen, the fingers are black- ened, or if the pen leaks, or an ink-stand overflows, wet a sponge with hartshorn and wash the spot vig- orously. Rinse at once in clear water. Soap sets ink and other acid stains. If all traces of the acci- dent have not disappeared, repeat the ammonia and the rinsing. For minor mishaps of this kind, such as an ink- smear upon the finger, wet the tip of a sulphur match and rub the smirch until it vanishes. The work is slower than when ammonia is used, but it is a con- venient device when the liquid is not at hand. Hand Sapolio will remove ink from the skin. I do not recommend the habitual use of this or of other gritty soaps for the purpose. They abrade and roughen the cuticle. For white goods: If your handkerchief be soaked with ink, throw while it is still damp, into a strong ste 98 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK solution of spirits of ammonia. Leave it for fifteen minutes, rinse in clear, cold water and treat it to another bath in a fresh supply of the solution. Wash well in this, rinse and lay in the sun to dry. Lemon-juice for ink spots: Not many weeks ago the babyest member of our household—perhaps moved by a hereditary tendency toward ink-slinging —divided the contents of an ink bottle impartially between the tiles of the bath-room floor and her white frock. I was out of the house at the time and knew nothing of the accident until the ink stain was twen- ty-four hours old. Turning a deaf ear to lamenta- tions over the absolute hopelessness of the disaster, I saturated the ink spots with lemon-juice, rubbed into them all the salt the juice would hold, and spread the frock in the hot sun. It lay there all day, kept moist by hourly applications of lemon-juice. At night it was put to soak in a tub of soft, clean water. In the morning it was turned over to the laundress with directions to wash it in the usual way. When this was done not a trace of the inky flood was left upon the muslin. This is but one of many in- stances which have proved to me the efficacy of a sim- ple, harmless detersive. In that last adjective lies one prominent advan- tage of this and other vegetable acids for extracting stains of any kind. Javelle water, chlorinated soda, and indeed, chloride in any form, are unsafe in care- less, because inexperienced hands. Unless the fabric under treatment be rinsed thoroughly in clear water THURSDAY 99 within a few minutes after it is submitted to the chemical, the latter acts disastrously upon the threads. In extracting the color, it weakens the stuff. Oxalic acid—although a vegetable product— will eat holes in stout linen, cotton or woolen in an incredibly brief time unless instantly rinsed out. A bath of an hour in lemon-juice would not weaken the finest cambric lawn. Another household detersive which gains in favor with each trial is Cream of tartar. Dampen the stains with hot water and rub into them all the cream of. tartar they will hold. Leave this on for ten min- utes and hold the injured parts taut under a stream of boiling water, repeating the process twice. Now, lay the wet spots in the hottest sunshine five or six hours, keeping them wet. If the stains remain after the sunning, soak overnight in pure water and repeat the cream of tartar treatment next day. I have never known the process to fail, and I have tried it upon old and upon fresh ink spots. Sour milk: Or buttermilk is a harmless, and often effective agent in the work of removing ink-stains. Soak the spotted article overnight in lopper milk, or, if you can get it, very sour buttermilk. Next day, rinse it twice in clear, soft water, and lay it in the sun, wetting it hourly with lemon-juice. If the ink be not entirely gone repeat the process of soak- ing, rinsing and sunning. Chlorinated soda: Acts quickly upon ink. A few drops, poured upon the stain, will make it vanish al- 100 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK most entirely in a few minutes. In five minutes, rinse well in lukewarm water—using no soap—and then twice in cold, clear water. Dry in the sun. Where expeditious measures are imperatively de- manded it is most valuable. Salts of lemon: Also acts quickly. The precau- tionary measure of the double rinsing must not be neglected for reasons already given. Oxalic acid: One of the most potent of detersives, is responsible for more bitter disappointments on the part of would-be cleaners than any other known to the average operator. It will take out ink spots, new and old. There is no doubt on that point. It may, likewise, be warranted to take out the injured part as certainly, if not as rapidly, as the scissors could cut it. Yet careful housemothers assure me that they have used it for years, without damaging linen, or cotton white stuffs. The secret of safety lies, I may be allowed to reiterate, in not leaving the acid in the material wrought upon long enough to convert a blessing into a bane. The crystals may be rubbed into the stain with the tip of a finger, and boiling water be poured through the stain and stuff, slowly, for a minute. Rinse, then, in cold water; rub in more crystals, and repeat the scalding and the rinsing until the marks have disappeared, or grown so faint that a few hours of sunning will efface them entirely. The last rinsing before exposing the wet surface to the sun should be repeated four times, each time in fresh water. os THURSDAY 101 If the solution of oxalic acid be used, wet the stuff with it and hold the spot taut in the steam of a hard-boiling kettle. If the stain be small, stretch the fabric tightly over the mouth of the spout and let the steam pour through it for three minutes. Rinse twice; wet again, and hold over the spout. Finally, rinse four times and commit to the sun—the surest, and the safest of bleachers. Chloride of lime: While better known as a whitener than as an expunger, will extract ink and other stains successfully, if properly applied. The following mixture is judicious: One pound of chloride of lime to four quarts of water. Shake well together and let it stand twenty- four hours; then strain through a clean cotton cloth. ‘Add one teaspoonful of acetic acid to one ounce of the lime-water and apply to the blot. Absorb the moisture with blotting-paper. Kerosene and soap: Is a useful combination in washing, as we have learned through our laundry talks. A friend, in whose housewifely wisdom I have implicit faith, contributes a story which I indulge myself by repeating in her own words: “JT want to tell you how my laundress removes ink stains, even when the article spotted has been afterward boiled and ironed. A dresser scarf having been vainly treated to a milk bath and everything else I could hear of as remedial, was thrown away. The laundress begged to be allowed to try her way with the stains. The scarf was well soaped, rubbing the soap on the spots as quickly as possible, then put into a clean pan and about 102 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK a half-cupful of kerosene poured on it. Enough cold water to cover the cloth was added and the pan put at the back of the kitchen range to heat slowly.’’ It may be necessary to repeat this process, but eventually the stain is removed. Sweet milk: Produces desirable results when ap- plied to wet ink spots. I have removed a big splash of ink from a velvet carpet by washing it instantly with skim milk. A cupful at a time was applied with a sponge saturated to dripping with the milk. As fast as the cupful was darkened by the squeezings of the sponge, it was thrown away and a fresh supply substituted. When no more ink could be sopped up, the milk remaining white after each immersion of the sponge, the wet place on the carpet was washed over and over with clear water, and coated with a paste of corn-starch. Three days later, the starch was brushed out, and not a trace of the flood of ink appeared. Some weeks afterward, a similar accident befell a handsome embroidered table-cover. The milk was brought in within two minutes, and the sponge plied vigorously upon the apparent ruin. ‘Then the cloth was lifted, the stained part held taut over a bowl of clear, lukewarm water and dipped repeatedly in this. Next, the cover was laid upon a folded sheet, and wiped of superfluous moisture with a soft towel. The corn-starch used in the former experiment was superseded now by boracic talcum. The cover was laid away out of the dust for two days. ‘When THURSDAY 103 the powder was brushed out, keen scrutiny was needed to discover any sign of the catastrophe which had filled the owner’s soul.with dismay. And this, although the ground color of the cloth was écru, and the heavy embroidery of vari-colored silks. I dwell longer and more emphatically upon this gentle detersive for the reason that it may be applied to colored fabrics without injury to the most delicate tints. Whereas, the majority of the extractors I have enumerated can be used upon ‘‘white goods’’ alone. They draw out the body color with the ink. Just one word more in regard to taking out rust stains. If the garment or article having the rust on is put into water in which a few teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar have been stirred, and boiled in it for a few minutes, the rust will disappear and the goods be as clear as before it was damaged. Of course, I suppose the goods to be white. I will not answer for any color. It matters not whether the sun shines or not. Your garment is cleaned and no harm done, as the cream of tartar does not injure the daintiest fabric. Rub with tartaric acid while wet to remove spots from linen, or dip in boiling water, rub with salts of sorrel and rinse well. To remove ink from cot- ton, silk or woolen goods, saturate the spot with spir- its of turpentine and let it remain several hours; then rub between the hands. It will crumble away with- out injuring the color or texture of the article. A housewife of sense and experience, supplies, at 104 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK my request, a corroborative bit of domestic his- tory: “The following was used on a pink chambray with excellent results: Take a glass or cup and hold the goods firmly over it; wet the spot well with fresh milk, permitting the fluid to pass through the cloth into the cup; then rub the juice of a lemon into the cloth, working it well in with the end of the finger; alternate milk and lemon-juice, and I think the spot will come out, the color remain and the goods be perfectly whole. As I say, I used this to take out an ink spot, fully the size of a dollar, from the sleeves of a pink chambray waist, and the pink of the goods did not fade in the least. The ink had not been washed into the cloth, however, but was several days old when I attempted to take it out. My sister tried it on a blue lawn, and it was completely successful. The ink came out and the blue stayed in.”’ Grain alcohol: Will remove ink, also liquid shoe- polish, if applied promptly. The goods must be lit- erally ‘‘soused’’ in the fluid, and the latter be poured through it again and again, then rubbed with a clean linen cloth. Butter: If ink spots be rubbed on both sides of the material with butter, left untouched overnight, and then washed in the usual way, no trace of them will remain when the article is dry. COFFEE, TEA AND FRUIT STAINS Coffee and fruit stains are easily managed if, as soon as they are made, the soiled article be held tightly over a basin of hot water and wet thoroughly, and boiling water at the same time be poured through THURSDAY 105 the stain, once and again. The blemish will be washed away in less time than it takes to tell you how to do it. Neither coffee, nor tea stains need be the bugbear housewives make of them. Both disappear in the family wash if this be tolerably well conducted. Glycerin: Coffee stains even where there is cream in the coffee, may be removed from delicate silk and woolen fabrics by the aid of pure glycerin. Brush the glycerin on the spots, then wash them with luke- warm water and press on the wrong side with a warm iron. The glycerin absorbs both the coloring matter and the grease. Chloroform, alcohol and ammonia: Black coffee stains and those made by clear strong tea, will yield to what I rank as the best ‘‘cleanser’’ I have ever tried. I mean a wash made of equal parts of alcohol, chloroform (or ether) and the admixture of a table- spoonful of household ammonia to a quart of the com- pound. It should leave no mark on the stuff, and the ammonia has a tendency to restore the color if it has been changed by the hot liquid. . Fruit stains may be removed by any of the means suggested for eradicating ink. The ugliest and most obstinate of fruit spots are amenable to the some- what heroic treatments here indicated: Lay them in hot water, in which a generous hand- ful of borax has been dissolved. Leave them thus for ten minutes, then rub and wring, and lay them damp upon the grass in the hot sun for the rest of 106 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK the day, wetting them every hour with the borax water. -Rinse them in pure water and hang up for the night. Next day, cover with lemon-juice and salt made into a paste, and leave them again in the sun, wetting every hour with lemon-juice. At night throw them into a tub of pure water, and leave them there all night. Do them up with borax soap in the usual way. The following process has, once and again, re- moved ink and peach stains, mildew and iron mold from my clothing and household linen. It will not rot the dainty lingerie. Cover with a paste of salt and lemon-juice and lay in the sun all day, wetting every hour with the lemon- juice. At night wash with clean water and hang up. Next day renew the application. The process is slow, but sure and safe. A-weak solution of chloride of lime will remove stain of peaches or any other fruit stain. Lay the stained articles in the solution for about three min- utes, then take out and rinse in cold water. Send to the wash and the stains will be removed. Chloride of lime is so caustic in its action upon delicate fabrics that great caution must be observed in the use of what is an excellent detersive. In pre- paring the weak solution here prescribed it is well to be on the safe side; better that it should be too weak than so strong as to eat into the threads of the linen. Prepare the solution, bottle it, test the strength upon a bit of linen stained for the purpose, THURSDAY: 107 and keep the mixture closely corked for summer use. Javelle water: Is really but a modification of the foregoing, and is to be managed in the same way. It is singularly effective in removing the unsightly yellowish-brown splotches made by peaches and pears. These are so treacherous and unexpected that we hold them in especial dislike. Invisible, when unwary fingers are touched to apron, napkin or table-cloth, they start into hideousness under the hands of the horrified laundress, and defy mild meas- ures that are efficacious in the warfare against ink, rust, and even mildew. RUST AND MILDEW Javelle water will dispose speedily of rust and mildew. Yet I prefer to subject my fine linen and muslins, disfigured by iron rust, or the. un- mistakable tokens of the laundress’ carelessness, to the gradual influence of lemon and salt and butter- milk, joined to the operation of bright sunshine and brisk airs upon hurt and marred things. It takes more time, but my linens are sounder and whiter when my favorite agencies have had their way. AXLE GREASE ‘Axle grease is another peculiarly obnoxious blem- ish to garments. Next to the trousers of boys who haunt the carriage-house and ‘‘steal rides’’ upon all manner of vehicles that have wheels, the silken gowns 108 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK of Mrs. Lofty, who ‘‘never walks, or takes street- cars,’’ are most liable to this disfigurement. As with most fabrics brought to be ‘‘treated,’’ the initial measure is to get rid of the dirt. Sponge the spots with a mixture of equal parts df alcohol and ether, confining your operations closely to the injured portion. Wipe dry with old linen. Now, attack the grease—for that is what is left. Scrape French chalk to a powder and rub it well into the grease spots on the wrong side of the silk. Hang up the gown and leave it for two days before brushing off the powder. PAINT, TAR, PITCH, STICKY FLY-PAPER, ETC. Benzine will remove paint from delicate fabrics, even when the spots have dried into the stuff. Ap- ply freely, leave on for an hour, and renew. Sponge the blur, left after the paint has peeled off, with pure alcohol. For tar and pitch rub the stuff with butter or lard. Work it well with the tip of the finger, spreading as little as may be. Leave a thick coating of the grease over the spot all night. Next day, scrape it off and the tar or pitch will come with it. Now, sponge with alcohol and ammonia; rub dry, and should any blem- ish remain, rub powdered French chalk on the wrong side. Soak paint until soft by pressing on the spots a sponge wet with alcohol. When soft it may be scraped off. Sponge the blur that remains with the THURSDAY 109 invaluable mixture of equal parts of ether and alco- hol. Equal parts of ammonia and spirits of turpentine will take paint out of clothing. Saturate the spots two or three times, and then wash out in soap-suds. If the article injured be of linen, the butter, lard or cottolene wil! suffice to remove the tar or other resinous substance. Rub into the spots thoroughly, let it alone for three hours, and wash in the usual way. A generous supply of butter should be rubbed thoroughly on ginghams or calicoes or other cotton goods that have made too close an acquaintance with fresh paint. If thrown aside till washing or put on even a week or two after being daubed with paint, and then washed out just as usual, all traces of paint will vanish. Sticky fly-paper—John’s especial abhorrence and the trap of unwary children—may be washed out of the father’s summer trousers when he has sat him down confidingly, evening paper in hand, upon the broad, cool window-bench where the careful spouse has hidden a sheet of the ‘‘Tanglefoot,’’ he hates— secure in the persuasion that he will never happen upon it there—he may be appeased, I say, and the pearl-colored integuments be purged of the detesta- ble compound by sponging with pure alcohol, dashed liberally with household ammonia. If the mixture be heated by setting the vessel containing it in boil- ing water (keeping the inner jar or bottle corked) it 110 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK will act more quickly and be more certain to expunge the marks. Alcohol will remove fly-paper stickiness from any substance. Sponge well with this, then with house- hold ammonia. {We have had the like mishap in our home, once and again, and rectified it by this treat- ment. Once the least of the flock appeared, beam- ingly, before the horrified mother with a sheet of fly-paper fast to a mop of sunny curls. Every hair was caught. To disentangle the hank of gold thread was a work of time and patience, but alcohol and ammonia did the work. I have removed slighter visitations of the ubiqui- tous ‘‘Tanglefoot’’ from hands and pinafores with ammonia, alone. ‘After getting it off the skin wash with bland soap and anoint with frostilla, or cold cream to prevent chapping. Or should the sticky surface come in contact with table-linen, woodwork, clothing, fingers, or in fact anything not intended, even the family pussy-cat—use simply kerosene! That will cut it instantly. In the case of clothing, remove the kerosene with any means known to the housekeeper. IODINE Soak the stain in cold water for half an hour, and while it is still wet, cover thickly—rubbing in well— with baking soda, and lay in the sun. Or: Tf the stain be old and obstinate, wet the spot with water, rub in crystals of oxalic acid and hold over the spout of a boiling kettle, letting the steam THURSDAY, 111 rush through it for five minutes. Rinse and repeat process. Ammonia, also, will remove iodine stains. MUD AND GRASS STAINS The inside of a cut raw potato will remove mud stains from black silk. ‘Try it upon a small piece of colored silk. Should it prove ineffectual, use a inix- ture in equal parts of alcohol and ether, rubbing down toward the bottom of the skirt—not up. I have cleaned the bottom of black silk and woolen skirts thoroughly by rubbing the grayish blurs left after the mud was beaten out, with a succession of pieces of raw Irish potatoes. Use the freshly cut in- side, changing for another piece as one becomes soiled, and, should marks of the rubbing be left when the stuff is dry, sponge with alcohol. In dealing with grass stains, which are a serious problem in summer with mothers of small children, and laundresses, competent or otherwise, use the ordinary black cooking molasses, which is found in every pantry, rubbing well into the fabric, whether cotton, linen or woolen, letting it remain a few min- utes and then washing by the usual process. It will not injure the most delicate material or color, and the most obstinate case will yield to the treatment. If the garment be not washable, cover with thick black molasses, and leave this on for three days. Wash off with clear water. Should a spot remain when dry, sponge with ether and alcohol in equal parts. 112 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK SCORCH Scorch from ironing or fire may be taken from goods by first washing and boiling; then wring from suds, hang in the sun to dry, or wet in suds (hot or cold) and dry. Repeat this process until all spots have been removed. PERSPIRATION STAINS I have said times without number, and expect to repeat the saying innumerable times more, that per- spiration stains are the most intractable of blemishes. Combining, as they do, acid and alkali, they resist treatment which might remove one or the other. Ammonia would act effectually upon the acid, and is an exasperation to the salts in the stain. Lemon- juice, invaluable in mildew and rust spots, adds acid to acid. The one forlorn hope is that a mixture of alcohol and ether in equal parts, with a dash of house- hold ammonia, may do away with the worst features of the stain. In applying this or any other detersive, never forget to lay several thicknesses of blotting- paper (white) under the soiled place to prevent the formation of the obnoxious ring that is likely to re- main on the stuff after it is dry. VASELINE AND OTHER OILS ‘A veteran housekeeper tells this story of experi- ence with a stubborn grease spot. ' “Some years ago my nurse spilled a quantity of hot vaseline on a brand-new and rather expensive white bedspread. The THURSDAY 113 spots soon took on a dark, greasy, unsightly appearance and, while they did not show immediately after washing, they soon returned and I thought my spread ruined. She took it to the laundry, spread it on the floor, poured kerosene oil liberally on the spots and left it in that condition over night. The follow- ing day it went through the regular wash, was thoroughly rinsed and dried in the sun, and not a spot has returned in all these ten years. I have had numerous occasions to use it since.’ If the oil is kerosene, cover with oatmeal or with cornmeal, and leave it alone for two days. Then brush and beat well. If any other oil be spilled, cover with a stiff paste of fuller’s earth and water. Leave thus for three days. Repeat if necessary. The first step in removing fat of any kind from cloth is to coat the spot with a bland alkali, such as French chalk. Get at the wrong side of the stuff if you have to rip a seam in order to do it. Rub the finely pulverized chalk into the grease and lay the garment by for four hours. Then cover the chalk with thick blotting-paper and set a moderately warm iron upon it. ‘A hot iron will fasten the oil in the stuff. Slip the paper along as the grease begins to show through. Should any trace of the paris be left on the right side, sponge with pure alcohol. Lay clean blotting- paper under the cloth as you sponge it to prevent the formation of a ring when it is dry. CHAPTER XI THURSDAY (Continued) ON CLEANING NON-WASHABLE ARTICLES OF DRESS Gasoline: its excellence and its peril: Beyond question, gasoline is the most efficient cleanser we have in general use, and the least harmful in its ef- fects upon the substance under treatment. Yet, of all that I shall recommend to my readers, it is the very last I should put into careless hands. ‘A collec- tor of curious statistics estimates that on an average, one woman or child per day, is killed or seriously in- jured by gasoline every year, in the United States. This may, or may not be true. Data of the sensa- tional type are not minimized by the professional statistician. Certain it is that casualties arising from the misuse of this cleansing agent are frequent enough to discount the intelligence of housewives as a class. I dropped a caution on this subject in a former chapter. I reiterate it with force at the outset of our consideration of the merits and the uses of gasoline in renovating articles which can not be safely con- signed to the wash-tub. For example—worsted stuffs of all grades may be 114 THURSDAY; 115 washed in gasoline without fear of fading or shrink- ing. If you can do this out of doors, it is best to take all your apparatus into the open air, with no fire or ar- tificial light near. If, as is more probable, you must work in the house, shut yourself into the bath-room and set the window open wide. Lay the breadths— several at a time—in a basin or bowl or boiler, cover with gasoline, put a close lid upon the vessel and leave for half an hour, Lift then, wetting your hands as little as may be, and shake and souse alternately for two or three minutes. Donotrub. Hang in the air to drip and dry, and the work is done. In the bot- tom of the bowl a heavy deposit of sooty matter shows how soiled the cloth was and how thorough is the purification. When all the dirt has settled, pour off the clear gasoline cautiously and use for the next supply of clothes. If the cloth be sadly soiled, throw away the first lot of gasoline and rinse the articles to be cleansed in a fresh supply. Gasoline will not remove grease. Therefore, before using the bath I have described, cover grease spots with a paste of fuller’s earth or of French chalk, and leave on all night. Next day cover with blotting paper and “draw’’ out the oil with a hot iron. I wish it were possible for me to instil into readers’ minds the simple fact that gasoline will not extract stains or grease spots. There is no chemical reason why it should do either of these things. It does take out “‘plain dirt’’ of any description. 116 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Benzine is subject to the same objection as gasoline in the minds of timid housewives. We are horrified daily by newspaper stories of accidents to life and limb, caused by the explosion, or ignition of benzine and naphtha. Unless one has the common sense to conduct one’s renovations in a room remote from ar- tificial light of every kind, one should never meddle with any of the three cleansers, but confine one’s operations in the cleansing line to soap and water. As we shall see by and by, benzine cleans gloves perfectly. It also takes off paint from flexible ma- terials. DRY CLEANING Dry cleaning is an invention of our latter day for which we can hardly be too grateful. It is neat, it is safe, and it is harmless to the texture of the arti- cles treated. The rules for the treatment of woolen stuffs, light silks and embroidered wash materials one does not like to wet are substantially the same. A white Bedford cord gown—partly wool, partly cotton—was successfully cleansed by following this formula: Put into a tub, cover with corn-meal slightly salted and scrub with this as you would use suds, rubbing between your hands, and hardest upon soiled spots. Cover it up in clean meal and leave it there for two days, throwing a cloth over the tub to keep out dust. Shake then, and brush with a perfectly clean whisk. Buckwheat flour may be used instead of the meal. Indeed, it is preferred by some experienced amateur THURSDAY. 117 scourers. They say that the finer grain of the buck- wheat flour is more easily and thoroughly worked be- tween the threads of fine stuffs, and does not fray them as the coarse meal does, sometimes. Small rugs of lamb’s wool or white fur, such as are used for baby-carriages, may be cleansed, again and again at home. Half fill a clean tub with dry corn-meal, and dry- wash the robe in it as in suds. Rub clear down to the hide, treating each hair impartially. When this has been done, throw out the soiled meal; line the tub with the robe, fur side up, and sift clean meal all over it, rubbing it well in, until you have buried it out of sight. Throw a cloth over all, to exclude dust, and leave thus for two days. Beat and shake out the meal at the end of that time. Larger floor rugs, even costly oriental fabrics, are rid of dust and grime, and the colors are brightened by a similar process. Heat coarse Indian meal in the oven in large pans, when you have mixed with it one-fourth the quantity of fine salt. When the mixture is quite hot (it must not scorch) have your rugs close at hand. They should have been shaken and whipped on the wrong side, out-of-doors. There will be dirt enough in them after the beating to warrant more thorough meas- ures. Scatter the salted meal thickly over the rugs, rub in well, using a clean broom or a brush; cover to keep out the dust and leave thus for twenty-four hours. Sweep, then, with a clean, stiff broom twice— 118 THE HOUSHKEEPER’S WEEK once against the nap, and the second time with it: finally, shake and beat to dislodge any lingering rem- nants of the meal and salt. You will be amazed at the complexion of the aforesaid ‘‘remnants.’’ The meal and salt may be used without heating, but you are more certain to have them perfectly dry, if they have been in the oven, and the heat helps on the cleansing process, besides killing any larvae that may . have skulked out of reach of the broom. Flour and borax are used with good effect upon finer materials. The waist of a cream-white cash- mere gown, adjudged to be hopelessly soiled, was made entirely presentable by obedience to a formula given to the incredulous owner by one who had tried it. I transcribe it from her letter: Rub into it with a clean complexion brush a mix- ture of flour, four parts; borax, one part. Do not miss one thread in the rubbing. Shake lightly to dislodge the loose powder and rub in a fresh supply. Leave this on for three days, covering to exclude the dust. Then shake and beat. Boracic talcum is a refined variation of the same cleanser. It is so much more expensive than the flour and borax that few would care to use it upon articles calling for basinfuls, much less tubfuls. It is worth while to resort to it when small and valuable pieces of lace or linen need attention. To clean a lace collar—Battenberg, point or Cluny—pin it firmly to a cloth-covered bosom-board and go all over it with boracie taleum, or with a mixture of pow- THURSDAY. 119 dered starch and borax, rubbing it well into the lace with a tooth- or nail-brush. When you have treated one side thus, turn the collar and repeat the process with the other. Cover with powder when you have done brushing it in, throw a cloth over it to keep out the dust, and leave it for two days. Then unpin the collar, shake, lay it on the board, right side down, and cover with a very damp cloth. Press with a hot iron through the cloth. Embroidered handkerchiefs, cravats, scarfs, cen- terpieces and fine doilies, that inevitably come to grief if sent to a professional cleaner, may be re- stored to respectability by skilful manipulation with boracic talcum. If you can not get it conveniently, make a substitute that may serve you as well by pow- dering starch and sifting it four times, with one ounce of borax to a pound of starch. Block magnesia: If of the finest quality, may fitly join the band of household cleansers. Inferior qualities abrade silks and fray linen threads. They also rob lustrous fabrics, like silk and satin, of gloss, making them look dull and ‘‘cottony.’’ A white or! pale-colored crepon, or point d’esprit gown—waist and skirt—may be cleaned in this way: Lay the breadths, smooth and straight, upon a table covered with a white cloth, pinning each bréadth in place to prevent it from drawing away, while you rub into every thread the best quality of block magnesia. Rub straight, evenly and gently, until you have gone over every bit of the material. 120 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Turn the breadths now and treat the wrong side in the same way. You will find the waist more trouble- some, but it can be cleaned without taking apart. Lay the whole gown upon a bed, cover with a thin cloth, and leave it thus for a week before shaking and brushing out the powder. Fine lawns may be treated with magnesia, also white felt hats. In every instance the magnesia must be left on the article for some days. There are chemical agents in the magnesia that need time for their work. A silk or pongee parasol, that has not begun to show the light through the creases, yet is soiled by wear or accident, may be cleaned at home, if these di- rections are regarded throughout: Add a teaspoon- ful of fine, dry salt to two cupfuls of powdered starch, and with a soft, clean ‘‘complexion brush”’ rub the mixture into the silk on both sides, not miss- ing a thread, and working with the grain of the silk all the time. Blow off the loose powder and rub in a fresh supply. Leave this on for two days before shaking it out and wiping the whole surface with soft flannel. The parasol should be opened wide to keep the silk taut. I have cleaned silk satisfactorily in this manner, and also with boracic talcum. To clean velvet: Corduroy, which is a sort of country cousin of velvet, may be restored without in- jury to the pile by the dry cleanser last mentioned. Sift boracic taleum thickly over it. Then ‘‘mas- sage’’ the corduroy with the tips of resolute fingers THURSDAY: 121 for at least ten minutes, renewing the powder as it is worked in. Cover with clean powder and put into a box with a close cover. Leave it thus for three days before beating out the powder and brushing well. Velvets may be cleaned by putting them in gasoline and brushing with a tooth- or complexion-brush. Great care should be taken to guard against an ex- plosion. Gasoline will not take out grease, but vel- vet coat collars can be cleaned by sponging with tur- pentine. It will not injure the nap. I have cleaned badly soiled velvet with a mixture of equal parts of alcohol and ether, one-third as much naphtha, and a teaspoonful of ammonia to a pint of the blended ingredients. Bottle, cork, and shake the preparation well. Sponge the velvet—always with the nap. It will look like a sorry affair when dry, but the next step in the process will bring all right. Hang the garment in the bath-room and turn on the hot water until the room is full of steam. Shut door and windows and leave the garment in the steam for some hours. When cold and still damp, hang in the outer air. To renew velvet: Hold a hot iron upside down; wring a cloth out of water, lay over the iron, then put your velvet wrong side next to the wet cloth. While the steam is passing through it brush on the upper side with a soft brush. Move the wet cloth as fast as it dries to continue the rise of steam. Do not lay finger upon the newly-risen nap until the velvet is entirely dry. Creased and crushed vel- 122 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK vet may be freshened and smoothed by steaming, and the method here described is a manifest improvement upon the old way of holding the defaced garment over a steaming kettle. The wrinkles left upon cloths that have been packed away for a long time, or unskilfully, may be removed in like manner. Turn on the hot water, and when the room is clouded by the vapor, turn off the water and shut up the room. The steam will do the rest. Velvet ribbons which have become creased can be freshened by holding them over a pan of boiling water, and brushing up the nap with a stiff brush. This process removes wrinkles and makes the velvet look nearly as well as when new. Fuller’s earth: Takes the place of magnesia and talcum in handling neutral-colored articles. A tan or gray coat, or jacket, soiled and darkened by long usage, should, first of all, be brushed free of dust as the initial step to rehabilitation. Then, lay it upon a large table, and go over every inch of it with pow- dered fuller’s earth, working it in with a new clean complexion brush, until not a thread is left wnvisited. Turn the garment upside down and repeat the work by rubbing in the powder against the nap or grain. Shake the coat to dislodge the loose earth, rub in a second supply, and leave this on for a week, Tt will eat up the dirt and form a harmless combination with grease. At the end of the week shake and brush vigorously. Tan or gray felt hats may be made almost as good THURSDAY, 123 as new by rubbing them with fuller’s earth. Pro- ceed as with the colored cloth, even to the week’s waiting in a dark box. To clean felt hats: A black felt hat may be cleaned with ammonia and warm water, but light hats must be cleaned with oatmeal, heated and applied with a brush. A white felt hat is cleaned with equal parts of powdered pipe-clay and oatmeal. Rub the pow- der on every part of the hat and then brush thoroughly. There is nothing better for cleaning light-colored felt hats which are only slightly soiled than dry corn-meal rubbed on with a piece of clean flannel. TO CLEAN FURS AT HOME Sealskin and Other Dark Furs ‘With a clean whisk broom wet in alcohol brush the fur thoroughly until saturated to the hide. Sift thickly into and over it pulverized fuller’s earth; cover to keep out dust, and do not touch for two days. Then brush and beat out the powder. Grime and soot will come out with it. I have cleaned white furs in the same way, substituting talcum powder for ful- ler’s earth. This plan of cleansing furs, I believe to be my own device. I made my first experiment upon a set of white ‘“‘mouffion” belonging to a small lady who represented the infant element in our household. I carried muff and tippet into the bath-room and shut myself in with them, the alcohol bottle and a box of 124 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK taleum (borax). First, I brushed all the dust out of the furs. Then with a new whisk, never used until then, and dripping wet with alcohol, I swabbed them down to the skin. Finally I sifted the boracic tal- cum under every hair, until the furs could hold no more. I consigned them, with many a misgiving, to a big box lined with tissue paper, and put on the lid, the alcohol being still wet upon the powder. At the end of three days, I took the moufflon out. As I shook it into the fresh air the white powder flew in clouds. Gentle practice with a brush brought out the rest and revealed white fluffiness beyond my fondest expectations. The experiment has been repeated many times, since then, and always to my satisfac- tion. Ermine, the prettiest and the most expensive of our white furs, has the disadvantage of yellowing if laid away. To avoid this mishap, line the box in which it is to be secluded during summer with blue tissue paper, or wrap the ermine in clean muslin made very blue with laundry bluing (but not starched). Put a cake of white wax in the box as well. If the ermine has already yellowed, you may pos- sibly whiten it by this method: Beat out the dust and sponge the collar with per- oxide of hydrogen; lay it in the sun for some hours, sponging every hour with the peroxide. Then fill the fur with boracic talcum and shut it up in a box for a week. If anything will bleach the ermine, this will, THURSDAY 125 By the end of the winter the collar and the silk binding of fur and cloth garments have become so soiled as to mark the neck or the neck-band of the wearer’s gown, or the man’s collar. The mark is a blending of coal dust and perspiration, which re- peats itself each time the outer garment is worn. To abate the nuisance, try the detersive mixture of ether, alcohol and household ammonia. With a bit of perfectly clean sponge scrub the soiled portions of the silk, cleansing the sponge after each applica- tion. This will remove grease and grime. ‘Wipe dry with old soft linen. TO CLEAN GLOVES Benzine: Put on both gloves, pour enough ben- zine in a bowl to cover the hands and hold them under the fluid a moment or two, then wash thoroughly as if using soap and water, rubbing all soiled spots well. Rub dry with a soft old linen towel, leaving on the hands until they are perfectly dry. They will look like new after several cleansings, if the gloves are of good quality. Benzine is highly volatile, evaporating quickly. So, the injunction to keep the gloves upon the hands until they are dry is not so unreasonable as one might suppose. Have a book or paper at hand, and read, using the hands as little as possible, to beguile the tedium of waiting. When you draw off the gloves, wrap a clean handkerchief about the fingers that do the pulling, as a newly cleaned glove is very sensitive 126 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK: to soil or dust. Hang the gloves up in an open win- dow to let the odor escape, before laying them away. The invaluable gasoline cleans gloves as well, to my way of thinking, as benzine, although the odor clings to them more persistently, perhaps. If you do not like to risk this, or naphtha, lay the gloves at full length on a folded towel and scrub with a bit of old flannel dipped in skim milk, then rubbed on the best quality of toilet soap. Wash in this way every part of the glove. Lay between two clean towels and put into a drawer for two days. They will be discolored and stiff, but when drawn on the hand and arm will recover color and softness at once. In the cleaning change the flannel as soon as it is soiled, and wipe the gloves dry before laying them away between the towels. We, who are teachers of the rising generation of housemothers, rejuvenated our light and white gloves after this fashion in the years when gasoline was not a domestic commodity, except as a distant relative of the giddy gas known as camphine and was ‘ burned in the place of whale oil in our lamps. We had a regular day for washing our gloves with skim milk and sweet soap, and another for stretching them back to their normal form and complexion. That day was usually Thursday. The six, eight or ten pairs of discolored gloves lay in their cerements un- til Saturday. We took pride in the skill gained by our many washings, and had a trick of displaying our encased hands to one another in church on Sunday, THURSDAY, 127 without attracting the notice of grave mammas and uninitiated beaux. ‘We, likewise, cleaned light gloves with white india rubber, and with stale bread-crumbs, fancying that they kept clean longer when thus treated than after they were washed in any other way. White kid gloves may be cleaned on the hands with oatmeal and benzine, mixed to a paste. Con- tinue rubbing until the paste drops off in dry flakes. Slippers and gloves of white or light kid may be cleaned by rubbing them with a piece of clean flannel dipped in a mixture of equal parts of powdered alum and fuller’s earth. A rub afterwards with fine oat- meal sometimes improves the looks of the kid. When black gloves become white at the finger tips, rub these with a few drops of good black ink mixed with the.same quantity of sweet oil. Light suedes may be cleansed with white castile soap boiled in milk to make suds, rubbing them with flannel, then with warm water, finally with dry flannel. CHAPTER XII THURSDAY (Concluded) ODDS AND ENDS OF RENOVATING TO CLEAN LEATHER Tan leather shoes: Wash a raw potato, cut into two or three pieces; rub the potato well into the shoes; be sure not to miss any part or the tan will show where the potato has missed. Let it dry, then apply polish twice with a light quick motion, which will give a finely polished boot or shoe. If the shoes be hopelessly defaced, yet strong as to material and seams, they are worth recoloring. This may be done at home, and satisfactorily if the fol- lowing directions be obeyed. Provide yourself with a bottle of gasoline; brush the mud and dust from the shoes and sponge them with gasoline, rubbing it in well. It takes the oil out of the surface of the leather. To dye, purchase a package of patent dyes—slate. Make up as per black ink recipe, using half the quan- tity of water. When made, add one tablespoonful of alcohol and one teaspoonful of spirits of camphor. Apply to the shoe after cleaning. Let the first coat dry. Put on the second and let it dry. Rub off with a dry cloth; touch up spots not well covered. 128 THURSDAY 129 When dry, polish with a good black paste, and rus- set leather will not show through in a week, as the shoemaker’s always does. A few drops of turpentine on a woolen cloth will clean tan shoes very well, and a drop or two of orange or lemon juice will give a brilliant polish to any leather. Sweet oil forms a good dressing for patent leather. Apply it with a small piece of flannel and then polish the leather with a soft cloth. If the russet shoes be but slightly soiled, they may be treated with cut banana. In every case see that no dirt that can be brushed off is left on the leather to interfere with the polish. If this precaution be neglected, dust becomes mire, and clouds whatever preparation may be used in cleaning. White and light-colored leather of any kind—may be renovated, so as to serve another term of useful- ness, by mixing a good patent dye to the exact shade you wish to get in a glass or earthenware bowl. Metal might change the tint, if there be acid in the dye, as is probable. Apply the dye, as dry as it may be used to advantage, to the leather, then leave it until it is perfectly dry and well soaked into the leather, when the surface may be polished in the usual way. American leather may be first well washed with a soaped flannel, rinsed with a soft cloth dipped in clean water, dried and finished off as above. Bags, portmanteaux, ete., according to their leather, may be cleaned in these ways. 130 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK White dancing slippers are easily cleaned with gasoline. Wet a piece of perfectly clean flannel with gaso- line and scour the slippers with it. When dry, wash with peroxide of hydrogen and dry in the sunshine. Other shoes: White satin shoes may be easily cleaned at home. Stuff out the shoe in shape and rub it gently with a soft cloth dipped in methylated spirit, repeating until clean. Dry with a clean soft cloth. Low shoes when new often blister the heels by slipping just a little as the wearer walks. To pre- vent this it is well to rub the inside of the shoe at the heels with soap before putting them on. ‘A leather valise, battered by many assaults from baggage-smashers, and disfigured by traces of hotel and railway cards, may be rendered presentable and serviceable, so long as hinges and lock are sound. Go all over it with a damp cloth to get rid of paste- marks and portable soil. Next, rub vith a cloth wet with kerosene. Leave the valise or suit-case to dry in the air, but avoid the sun. The third stage is to wring out a flannel cloth in neat’s-foot oil. You can buy it from any harness-maker. Rub the leather well with this; throw a sheet over it to exclude dust and leave it thus for several hours to let the oil sink into the leather. Wipe, and polish with chamois skin. To remove an ink spot from leather: Moisten the spot slightly with water, rub into it powdered crys- THURSDAY: 131 tals of oxalic acid; wash off in fifteen minutes and re- peat washing after each application, Lastly, work in a few drops of neat’s-foot oil. A chamois-leather vest may be dry-cleaned if not stained badly with perspiration. Chamois shrinks so woefully in the hands of the laundress of com- merce, that the day of consignment to the wash-tub should be delayed as long as decency will permit. Pending the evil hour, take it to the bath-room, spread it upon a table and rub both sides and every part of the vest with powdered fuller’s earth. Work in well with a clean complexion brush. Cover with powder and lay in a closed drawer for a week before beating and brushing out the ‘‘earth.”’ HATS A white duck hat: Clean it with a good quality of magnesia—fine in grain and pure white. Rub it well into the hat, shut it up in a box and leave it for a week. Remove the powder with a bit of soft flan- nel, smoothing it round and round, always in the same direction and evenly. Tf not perfectly clean, the hat must be put through the process a second time. Straw: To clean gentlemen’s white straw hats, use one teaspoonful of oxalic acid to a cup of water; scour with an old toothbrush until all soil has disap- peared. If you should discolor the black band with the mixture, dampen it with diluted ammonia water to restore the color. .o} 132 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Leghorn: Brush out the dust with a stiff whisk- broom, running it around the inside as faithfully as you brush the outside, having, first, taken out the lin- ing and removed the band. Clip each stitch, instead of pulling the thread, and leave no bits sticking to the straw. These are minor steps in the operation, but they tell visibly in the result. When the hat is “broom clean,’’ rub it all over and thoroughly with damp cornmeal. Let this stand for ten minutes; then apply dry meal. Rub into every thread, and leave it on for six hours before brushing out the meal. If you wish to bleach it, sponge freely with peroxide of hydrogen and expose to the hot sun. Panama: Wash the hat all over with lemon juice, leave it in the sun for six hours; then sponge care- fully, leaving no part untouched, with peroxide of hydrogen. Sun again for several hours. Or: A cup of white cornmeal, soaked in benzine or gasoline, well rubbed on with a clean, soft cloth, will clean and leave no stains. Both Leghorns and Panamas have an ugly fashion of yellowing before they have lived out half their days. And, while the peroxide of hydrogen bleaches quickly, and what may be called plausibly—other housewives who have tried the two ways of whiten- ing straw, agree with me in thinking the old method ‘practised by our granddames—whose Leghorns and ‘Naverinos served for their grandchildren—the surer and more enduring. Some used this formula: Pulverize stick sulphur and mix it to a paste with THURSDAY, 133 water. Plaster this thickly on the straw and place in the sun to dry. ‘When dry, brush the sulphur off, and the hat will look like new. Others employed the same agent in a different way. A tin or iron plate of sulphur was set on the ground and lighted to a slow flame. When it was fairly kindled, a barrel open at both ends was carefully placed over the smoking sulphur. Across the top of the barrel was laid a stick from which the discolored hat was suspended by a short cord. A board was fitted to the head of the barrel so closely that the fumes of the burning sulphur could not escape. At the end of half an hour the hat was shifted to a dif- ferent position that the hot gases might reach every part of it. More sulphur was lighted if the first sup- ply was exhausted. The hat was not taken out until it was cold. A couple of hours in the open air suf- ficed to dispel the sulphurous odor. If the hat be but slightly soiled, go over it with a paste of lemon-juice and table salt, spreading it thickly and evenly and leave the hat in the sun for the rest of the day. Next morning brush off the salt, and wash with strained lemon-juice. Another day’s sunning should make it as white as ever. SOOT MARKS Even in our age of closed chimneys, and steam heat, there are households sufficiently luxurious and affluent to indulge in the renaissance of open fire- places. Now and then, when fires are kept up regu- 134 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK larly in the baronial chimneys, a gust of wind or a fierce dash of ill-directed rain brings down the ac- cumulations of a winter’s smoke. When soot falls upon the carpet or rug, never at- tempt to sweep it up at once, for the result is sure to be a disfiguring mark. Cover it thickly with dried salt, which will enable you to sweep it up clean, so that not the slightest stain will be left. EGG STAINS They should not excite disgust, but they do! The yellow drip from the breakfast egg, eaten en régle, from the shell of the ‘‘strictly fresh,’’ a-down John’s blameless shirt-front, or Mary’s embroidered muslin; the smear left by Jenny’s spoon on the cloth where she dropped it—full, of course—‘‘on an accident,’ —are alike odious in the housemother’s eyes. She can not explain why they should convey an impres- sion of coarse negligence verging upon vulgarity. Yet she is distressfully aware of the fact, and so are we. Moreover, they are not easily sponged out. The hateful, vulgar yellow clings like the smirch of scandal to reputation. Egg stains on linen or on any other cloth should be soaked in cold water, for hot water sets the stains and makes them most difficult to remove. The same rule applies to egg stains on dishes, ete. If the dishes are placed at once in hot water the egg stains will harden, but they readily come off in cold water. The albumen in eggs is made into paste by boiling THURSDAY 135 water. It dissolves readily in cold. Therefore, if you try to sponge away the ochreous streak from non-washable stuff, do it with cold water. FEATHERS To clean a feather boa: Shake gently in a draft for a minute or two, pulling it open through the length to clear out the dust. Blow hard into it—up- ward—to dislodge lurking particles. Then wash it in clear gasoline. Do it out of doors and in the day- time. Souse it up and down a dozen times; shake and hang in the air to dry, shaking several times while it is airing. Or: Sift finely pulverized fuller’s earth into the feathers, filling them full with it. Shut up in a box for two days, shake gently and hang in the wind to get rid of the powder. Or, you may dip it repeatedly in gasoline. Ostrich plumes: May be cleaned in the same way. To restore them after being exposed to dampness: hold the plumes or feather boa over a register, or much better, over the kitchen range. Hold there and shake as near the heat as possible without scorching. In a few moments they will fluff up and be as lively as a ball of down. After the washing in gasoline and the drying in the open air, the plume or boa will have a dissipated, blasé look unbecoming the crisp jauntiness of its former estate. Hold it at the steaming spout of a boiling tea-kettle, then over the red-hot plate of the 136 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK range or hang it from the upper grating of a hot oven until it curls, watching lest it burn. I know a woman who bakes her plumes periodically. There are other, and it may be, better ways. One authority upon the subject sets down positively that ‘‘the whole secret of success in renovating feathers is starch—raw, not boiled—as the cooked starch would act like glue. Take three tablespoonfuls of raw starch to one pint of cold water, into which put the feathers, after they have been washed and rinsed. Press in a dry cloth with the hands, squeezing as dry as possible; then hang in the wind to dry—in a strong draft, if convenient. When quite dry, shake well, but not hard. As the starch flies off in a cloud, every filament will rise, and the plume be as fluffy as at first. Hang in the steam of a boiling ket- tle until the plume is saturated. Do not curl near the stem, as the feather will, then, be too close and thick. When curling, keep the forefinger of the left hand parallel with the stem.”’ Or: Make a suds of good white soap; put your plume in and soak until the dirt is loosened. Repeat until the last suds are clean. If the plume is white, rinse in water with a little bluing in it. In washing begin at the stem and squeeze down to the tip. Dry as you would anything else—preferably in the sun. Then lay your feather on a large sheet of paper and sprinkle thickly with prepared chalk and flour. Put your hand on the side of the feather and rub down to the tip, keeping it up until the fibers are loosened. THURSDAY 137 Shake out well in the air to get rid of the powder, and curl on a blunt knife. Handle carefully, so as not to break the plume. WHITE STUFFS White all-wool waists: A cream-colored waist may be cleaned according to rules for which I have to thank a friend. She says: ‘*T have cleaned three this winter. Two were wool waistings of different kinds, the other a cream wool challé. The latter was trimmed with white silk ap- pliqué, which I did not rip off. My method is sim- ply to soak the waist to be cleaned in cold water for a couple of hours, then wash in cold water with any good white soap, rubbing the soap freely on the waist. Rinse also in cold water, several times if necessary. All the waists iron to look exactly like new, and without shrinking.’’ A second contributor volunteers a dry bleach for which she vouches, as I guarantee her skill and truth- fulness: ‘Wash the waist in warm suds, rinse in hot water and keep it hot while drying, stretching all the time into shape, and when dry, bleach with sulphur. Get a large barrel; put a brick in the center of the bot- tom; then a red-hot stove lid upside down on the brick. Put sulphur on that. Put a large wire sieve on top of barrel and put goods or waist, flannel or white silk, on it. Cover tightly. Leave the gar- ment loose so the sulphur will reach every part of 1388 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK the goods. When the sulphur is cold, the goods will be as white as when new.”’ I have to thank a third benefactor for her method of cleaning chiffon. To clean white chiffon: ‘Chiffon should be washed in soap lather by carefully rolling and press- ing between the hands, then rinsed in clean water and stiffened in gum water, the same proportion as for lace—namely, one tablespoonful to a quarter of a pint of water. “Roll in a cloth to absorb some of the moisture, but proceed quickly since it must not be too dry when it is ironed. “To iron chiffon, it must be placed on the table wrong side up and ironed along the selvedge, as iron- ing across would displace the fibers and destroy the appearance of the delicate fabric. “Chiffon ties with a natural crépon crinkle should not be ironed, but, instead, the ends should be care- fully pinned out on a table, the tie just stretched enough to permit of the crinkles falling into their natural shape. **When dry fold it without pressing the folds in; air and put away carefully.”’ ‘A delicate and not easy process. Had I less con- fidence in the woman who assures me she ‘‘has tried it, and found it true,’’ I should not dare to quote it. For chiffon has kinks—in more than one sense of the word—and I have never essayed to cleanse it. THURSDAY 139 TO TAKE THE OIL OUT OF WOOLEN STUFFS A lively housemother thus relates, at my request, the history of a calamity changed by presence of mind into a pleasing reminiscence: ‘‘Many years ago I had read that rye flour will ab- sorb any oil ona carpet. An accident spread a pint of castor-oil on the parlor carpet. This made a large spot, and I ran to the flour bin only to find rye flour out. In desperation I took white flour instead. Then I covered the flour with newspaper, and both with a rug. I changed the flour as often as the oil penetrated it and formed cakes, as long as there was any oil left—rapidly and hard at first, slowly and light at last. Not a vestige of oil remained, and I have had several experiences since in removing oil from carpets and wool clothing—putting fiour above and below the spot in cloth and placing a slightly warmed iron over the spot. This is a simple remedy and one always at hand in the home.”’ TO REMOVE THE “SHINE” FROM CLOTH AND SILK (1) The shine that shows a serge skirt or jacket to be no longer new, may easily be removed by spong- ing the garment with bluing water, such as is used to launder clothes. While still damp press the goods under a thin cloth. (2) To take the ‘‘shine’’ off of clothing: Wring a woolen cloth out of water; lay over the goods and 140 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK press with a hot iron. Do not press dry. Take cloth up while steaming. (3) ‘‘Damprag”’ it by rolling it upon a wet cloth, the gloss next to the cloth. Leave thus for an hour or more. ‘Then open upon a table, and hold a very hot iron just near enough to the moistened ‘‘shine’’ to bring up the steam, which should do the work unless the garment be positively threadbare. (4) To remove the ‘‘shine’’ from John’s coat and trousers, sponge with hot vimegar. This will cleanse and freshen them at the same time. Sponge afterward with ammonia. (5) Whatever you use, the removal of the ‘‘shine”’ will be temporary. One of the best things I know of is a bit of very fine emery cloth—you may buy it in small squares at a druggist’s—rubbed upon the shiny parts of the cloth. Rub gently. The friction will remove the gloss for a time. When it reap- pears, rub again. (6) Soap-bark is one of the best mediums for the removal of ‘‘shine’”’ from cloth. Many a suit that has not begun to be threadbare, is thrown aside as too shabby for even every-day wear because it has grown glossy upon the shoulders and the underpart of the arms. Make a flannel bag, put a handful of soap- bark into it, and dip into hot water. Use it as a sponge. Do not wipe the cloth dry. A black silk that has worn so ‘‘shiny,’’ that it looks greasy may be cleaned to a ‘‘dull finish’’ by sponging with a mixture of equal parts of alcohol THURSDAY 141 and ether. Add a generous tablespoonful of house- hold ammonia to the mixture before using. It is yet more effective if set in boiling water half an hour before it is used. Change the water for more, boil- ing hot, at the end of fifteen minutes, and do not take the bottle containing the wash near the fire. The contents are highly volatile, but should the cork blow out, there is no danger unless the alcohol is ig- nited by artificial light. TO CLEAN A TISSUE OR CREPON VEIL To clean a tissue, or crépon veil: Souse in gaso- line (out of doors), shake gently and attach with many pins to the line in the sun, but not where the wind will stretch it out of shape. Or, after shaking out the gasoline, spread smoothly upon a cloth, pin- ning down at the edges, and leave in the air and shade to dry. ECRU LACES Ecru laces can be kept to their original color by using yellow ochre, obtainable at any paint store. It is perfectly harmless to lace or muslin. Mix a small quantity of this powder with boiling water, and add to the starch or last-rinsing water; test the color with a corner of the curtains where the pattern is heaviest; put all curtains, intended for one room or window, in at one time, so the color will not vary. Souse and wring out in the ordinary way. If not satisfactory the first time put through again. 142 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Or: Puta little saffron in the rinsing water, mak- ing sure to wring and shake out the water before hanging the curtains up to dry. If hung up drip- ping wet, they will be streaky. Our grandmothers gave the sallowness of age to their thread laces by dipping them into weak, clear, black coffee—strained through a flannel bag. You can try the same process, if you prefer it to the saf- fron. In either case test the color first upon a bit of lace or muslin. SILK To clean a muddy black underskirt: Take a brush and use it vigorously over bad mud spots. Then scrub over with a piece of old velvet. You will be surprised at the result. The velvet, without the brush, is fine to remove the dust that collects on the silk. The “‘ring’’ left by sponging silk: If the cleaner has observed the precaution already insisted upon of laying a folded piece of blotting-paper under the silk before touching it with the sponge, the chances are that there will not be left the round spot which is as hard to get rid of as the original stain. Alcohol is of all liquid detersives the least likely to leave the obnoxious ‘‘ring.’’ If you have used some other fluid, and the unsightly mark offends your eyes when the stain has vanished, and the silk is dry, try what I have found successful in more than one ease. Stretch the silk taut and scratch very gently with THURSDAY 143 your finger nail around the edges of the ring, always from it and evenly until you have blended the dark- ened portions of the silk with the rest. If done care- fully this will make the blur nearly, if not quite im- perceptible. Next time sponge with alcohol and ether,—in equal parts. If, in cleaning with any li- quid, you will put a thick, dry pad of cotton under the stained part of the stuff, there will be little dan- ger of the ‘‘ring.’’ TO SET COLORS To set colors in new cotton fabrics dissolve one ounce of sugar of lead in eight quarts of water, and soak the articles in it over night. Or: Lay them in salt water enough to cover them several inches deep, and leave them there for five hours. The color will be set, and the dirt will not be permanent. ‘ Or: Soak for the same time in a strong infusio of alum. Dissolve the alum in hot water, but let it get cold before putting in the cotton or linen goods. STRAYS To prevent white silk from turning yellow when not in use: Wrap it in pale blue tissue paper, or in soft muslin that has been dipped in deep bluing water, then wrung out, dried and ironed. No starch! You may also put a cake of pure white wax in the box. To take the odor out of stockings that smell of the 144 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK dye, and the armpits of underwear and wash waists: When they are washed let the last rinsing be in alum water—about a teaspoonful of powdered alum to one quart of warm water. Jet passementerie may be cleaned by rubbing it with a cloth dipped in equal parts of alcohol and water. Dry afterward with a clean cloth. To clean jewelry with stones in it, wash it in warm suds made with yellow soap and a few drops of sal volatile. You will find that this makes the ornament brilliantly clean. Stains on flannel blankets and light-colored wool- ens may be removed by an application of glycerin and raw yolk of egg—equal parts of each well mixed together. Let this soak in thoroughly, and, when it has done its work, remove it by washing with soapy water. To take chewing-gum from clothing, turn to our old friend gasoline. The gum will evaporate with the gasoline if rubbed a little with a cloth wet with gasoline. Nota trace of the gum willremain. This is better than scraping. To take varnish out of cloth: Soak the spots with a sponge dipped in alcohol, wetting the sponge as it dries, and covering with a thick cloth to prevent too rapid evaporation. When the varnish has soft- ened, scrape off all that will come away, and scrub off the rest with household ammonia. ~ Alcohol will remove glue: Wet a sponge in this, lay upon a spot, covered with newspaper, to prevent THURSDAY 145 evaporation, and leave for half an hour. Then sponge the softened glue with more alcohol. Clean leather-bound books with powdered pumice stone applied with a piece of soft cotton or wool. Rub until clean. ORNAMENTS Cut steel may be polished with powdered pumice stone, slightly moistened and applied with a soft brush or cloth. To clean a steel chain: Put it into a box three- quarters full of fine emery dust. Close the box and shake violently up and down and to and fro for sev- eral minutes. Now and then turn the box upside down and shake again, to leave no part of the chain untouched. CHAPTER XIII FRIDAY HOUSEHOLD PESTS, VERMIN ‘‘There is no house howe’er so well defended,”’ that is proof against the incursions of insect invad- ers of domestic comfort and housemotherly pride. Each woman who reads these lines can recall without an effort some humiliating experience that burned the axiom into her astonished soul. To this hour, I find it hard to think with Christian charity of the relative-in-law, who, after spending a night in the pretty guest-chamber of the first house we ever owned, asked me placidly, at breakfast, if I knew that the moths had their habitat in the fretted cornice bordering the frieze I had thought handsome. We made much of cornices, and knew little of friezes then, and I was proud of the elaborate decoration of my newly-furnished chamber. “‘T saw them plainly as I lay in bed,’’ continued the candid speaker, accepting a second cup of coffee, and asking incidentally, that it might be ‘“‘hotter and sweeter than the first.’ ‘‘I am blessed with keen eyes, and I espied a colony of the little rascals hang- ing, heads downward, in the crannies of the pattern.”’ Inwardly I chafed hotly, and said ugly things to 146 FRIDAY 147 myself as to the chronic propensity of In-laws to say disagreeable things one’s blood-kindred would keep to themselves. Outwardly, I smiled slightly and commented upon the ubiquitousness of moths who, like Solomon’s representative spider, ‘‘take hold with their hands, and are in king’s palaces.’ The In-law smiled superior to my feint at careless ease: ‘‘I thanked my stars my wife was not with me! The sight of a moth throws her into a panic. She would be sure that we would carry off eggs or larve in our clothes.’’ I scorned to inform him that I had personally con- ducted the spring campaign against creeping things of all species, and put down woolens for the summer with my own hands. How was I to think of hunting for wool-eating moths in the convolutions of a plaster cornice? As soon as he and his valise were out of the house, I led a raid upon crannies and convolu- tions. The ceiling of that room had been swept with a hair broom at least twice a month during the half- year of our occupancy of the house we joyed in call- ing ours. Mounted now upon a step-ladder and armed with a pointed paint-brush, and woman’s in- alienable weapon—a hairpin—I hunted and slew un- til I could find not one more to add to the host of wriggling larve, and the eggs that promised in- crease of family within a week. If I could not at once—or ever—forgive the officious In-law for dis- covering and proclaiming what I should have pre- vented, I laid the lesson to heart. To this hour I 148 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK do not comprehend what took the wool-eaters into re- cesses where there was nothing to feed upon. The les- son set for me was that they seek out all manner of unlikely lairs in which to increase and multiply for the housewife’s confusion and shame of face and heart. The same may be said of other and even more ob- jectionable ‘‘creatures’’ who molest and make afraid the careful housekeeper and are the slattern’s dis- grace. There may be reason in the country home for the popular belief that the presence of nocturnal prowlers in the bedroom, moths in carpets and cur- tains, roaches in the kitchen, and red ants in the pantry—not to mention silver- buffalo- and carpet- bugs—reflects irretrievable ignominy upon the mis- tress of the infested premises. premises were overrun by a breed of mice too know- ing to enter the traps set in their sight, ‘‘to catch one, smear him with tar, and let him go.’’ ‘““Mice are cleanly little beasties,’’ I added, ‘‘and as he runs, he will besmear the sides of his hole and the walls with tar. His comrades can not abide the stickiness upon their fur, and will flee as for their lives.”’ This statement of a fact was branded in the condemnatory resolutions of the body that ar- raigned me, as ‘‘flippantly trifling with the suffer- ings of harmless creatures that had as much right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as their tormentor.’’ The paper then went on to say that, if the murder of the ‘‘beastie’’ were a domestic and neighborhood necessity, he should be drowned in warm water. ‘‘Not hot, but with the chill taken off, that the shock of immersion may be lessened.”’ Since vermin—including ‘‘rats and mice and such small deer,’’ are a direct menace to human health and happiness, they must go! To inflict needless pain upon anything that God has made, is-a sin. Therefore, let justice upon the evil doer be done as swiftly and as effectually as possible. To mutilate a beetle is wanton cruelty, even though the victim be cold-blooded and incapable of feeling such suffering in dying as would attend a cut of a giant’s finger. Now for the application of our sermon :— Begin we with moths, classed in Holy Writ with the corruptions of rust upon human riches. They are dear lovers of warmth and of darkness, when FRIDAY 151 joined to warmth. Dusty corners are a delight, and fleecy folds the acme of luxury. Therefore keep your rooms well-aired and admit the sunshine lay- ishly. Sweep the corners and the walls—and ex- plore the cornices! IN PUTTING AWAY WOOLENS AND FURS Beat and brush out all the dust, as the first and most important step. Where eggs are not, the live moths can not come. Even with the lowest orders of creation, there is no such thing as spontaneous generation. See to it that every thread and hair of the stuff is visited by the brush. Then, hang it in the hottest sunshine you can find. Leave it thus for a day, and when the articles are brought in at even- ing, put them into a clean trunk or box—or barrels that have been wiped clean and then swabbed with camphor. Of all known drugs this is most abhor- rent to moths and other creeping things. Next day, take the woolens-and furs into the porch, if you have one. A bright, airy room with a hard- wood floor, is the next best place. You should have abundance of newspapers saved for the occasion. Printer’s ink is as unwelcome to moths as to bigger sinners. Lay in between the folds of each article plenty of camphor balls, or gum camphor. Envelop it, next, in newspaper, pinned carefully at the open ends. Finally, sew or pin up the parcel in un- bleached muslin, or in cheese-cloth, and lay away ina perfectly dustless chest, box or cask. Never lose 152 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK sight of the cardinal—and the comforting—truth that, if the air be excluded and there are no un- guarded cracklets through which the dust may pene- trate to the contents of the parcel, it is a physical impossibility for moths to get at them, were the box not opened in ten months, or ten years. A notable housewife, who dislikes the smell of camphor, claims that the use of it is a needless pre- caution, if the woolens and furs be entirely free from dust—therefore of eggs and larve—when they are put away. I have, myself, dispensed with camphor or any other preservative, and sustained no damage from the omission. When you are ready to put away furs and woolens and want to guard against the depredations of moths, pack them securely in paper flour sacks, and tie them up well. Before putting away your muff or furs for the winter, twirl them by the cords at the ends so that every hair will Straighten itself. Put them in their boxes, and paste a strip of paper where the lid fits on tightly. Turpentine is a valuable ally in the righteous war. The odor is clean and wholesome. Sprinkle a little of the turpentine in the bottom of trunks and draw- ers, and cover with a fresh newspaper. Also, satu- rate pieces of soft cloth, and place in the corners, away from the clothes. In midsummer often open them up, and tuck in a fresh supply without remov- ing the articles. Keep a bottle of turpentine in the wardrobe or closet, and occasionally sprinkle a few FRIDAY 153 drops around. It is good for furs or feathers or anything in which these pests live. Endorsement of the excellence of this means of de- fense comes from a veteran: ‘“Two years ago, when house-cleaning, I found many moths in parlor chairs, closets, boxes—almost everywhere. After thorough dusting and cleaning, turpentine was applied freely to edges of upholster- ing, all seams in boxes, bureau drawers and closets, and no moth has ever been seen here since. Bugs will not, for years after, go where turpentine has been applied. Mosquitoes will not trouble you if you paint the headboard of the bed with it.’’ To keep moths out of upholstered furniture, car- pets and clothing, heat a flat-iron very hot, place on a brick or stone in the room, put as much gum camphor as will lie on under the handle of the iron and close up the room for a few hours. SILVER-MOTHS AND BUFFALO-BEETLES A most pestilent crew! Their field of action is generally the carpet, the rug (the more costly the better) and upholstered furniture. So far as I can judge, they attract one another. Like Longfellow’s vultures and human woes— ‘‘They gather, gather, descending flockwise—’’ until the poor housemother is distraught beyond expression. Try this plan of warfare: Stir red pepper into wood alcohol in the proportion of a table- 1544 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK spoonful to a pint. With a syringe inject the liquid into every crevice and corner. Turn up the edges of the carpets and wet them with the mixture. Shut the rooms up closely for a few hours to allow the al- cohol to evaporate slowly. It is not likely that a single treatment will abolish the evil. Persevere, adding, now and then, a lump of camphor, crushed, to the pepper. When you leave home for the summer, drench car- pets, etc., with gasoline, in which gum camphor has been dissolved, and close the room thus visited. No vermin can live under this heroic treatment. Or: Drench the edges of the carpets and all along the bottom of the baseboard with gasoline. Shut the room up tightly for twenty-four hours. Open and air. Let no artificial light be taken into the room meanwhile. This will kill any sort of vermin. For a moth-infested rug: First, take the rug and have it beaten well from the wrong side. When no dust remains, spread it to full size in a disused room, and drench it with gasoline. Roll it up, wrong side out, to retain the strength of the gasoline, and close the room for two days. Open in broad daylight, un- roll and air your rug, and return it to its usual place. There will be no moths left alive in it. The gasoline is more effective still if mixed with camphor or cedar oil. Allow a tablespoonful of cedar oil to a quart of gasoline, shaking the bottle hard to mix the ingredients thoroughly. Keep the bottle closely corked. FRIDAY 155 FOR FURNITURE (1) If furniture is infested with moths, remove the lining beneath the seat and interline with tar paper. (2) If the moths have got into the carpet it must be taken up, thoroughly shaken and pressed with a flat-iron as hot as it will bear without scorching. Then liberally sprinkle the floor where it is to lie with spirits of turpentine, pouring it into any cracks there may be between the boards. FLEAS Pennyroyal, properly used, is sure death to fleas. If the green herb is in full season, order a bushel or more of it through a market man, and strew it thickly in every flea-infested room. Take one room at a time: cover the floor with pennyroyal, and shut door and windows, not opening them again for two days. Then gather up the withered herbs, and burn them at once. Repeat the process if it is necessary, which is not likely. If you can not get the green herb, put oil of pennyroyal into boiling water, and serub floors and woodwork with it. Or: Since the fresh pennyroyal is very hard to obtain in a large city, for a six-room flat take three pounds of sulphur, wet with alcohol, or three sul- phur candles. After removing silver and gilt arti- cles and dainty colors, put the sulphur into an old pan and set inside of another pan of water. Unlock 156 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WHEK the windows, so that they may be opened from out- side, and ignite. Be careful not to inhale the fumes. From a tropical city where the nimble pests gain foothold in the beds, eluding the daily quest, and bobbing up serenely as soon as the weary foreigner lays him down to sleep, we have a message: “‘Saturate one corner of a handkerchief with coal oil, just the least you can, so as not to drip, squeeze it tightly with the hand; pass it between the sheets so as to scatter the odor around where the fleas are; then pin the kerchief on the back part of the night- robe just below the shoulder. This J do to keep from smelling the odor of the oil myself. “The fleas will soon leave the bed and house. I keep a little cloth saturated and place it so it can not be smelled by myself. The fleas soon desert the room.”’ To whatever means you may resort, add this to it. Lay sheets of ‘‘sticky fly-paper’’ under the bed and other large articles of furniture, also along the bot- tom of the baseboard in secluded corners. Do this at night, since the papers will be unsightly in the day, and veritable snares for unwary feet. Next morning, look at them, and if they are not dotted with black specks, that will never be nimble again, do not repeat the experiment. Burn paper and fleas together. Fleas upon cats and dogs: Upon four ounces of © foxglove leaves, pour two quarts of boiling water, FRIDAY 157 and with this wash the animal. Repeat the opera- tion three or four times a year. Or: Wash him well in two gallons of water to which you have added a cupful of kerosene. Some hours later wash with strong suds made of tar soap. Swab him with pure water and comb his hair. ANTS RED AND BLACK The words recall another instance of ill-directed sentimentality. A boy-visitor in a house where I was also a guest, pursued a big black ant that was running across the drawing-room floor with a grain of sugar in his mouth, and was about to set his foot upon it when his mother arrested him: ‘‘My son! Let the poor innocent thing go! How often have I told you never to kill an insect ?’’ Was it mean and spiteful in me when I smiled to myself to see her shudder at sight of a black ant— I hoped it was the escaped thief—swimming in the glass of iced tea passed to her an hour later? The hostess apologized distressfully, as she exchanged the glass for another, by saying that ‘‘the wretches are everywhere, this summer! We are tormented out of our wits by them in the kitchen and pantries.’’ Even tender-hearted Cowper, in excluding from his list of friends the man who ‘‘needlessly sets foot upon a worm,” admits that the intruder upon the alcove’s beauty and the household’s neatness must die. 158 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ‘‘A place for everything, and everything in its place,’’ is the surest route to fulfilment of Heaven’s first law, Order, and the place for red and black ants is not upon my table, in my sugar-bowl, or upon veranda and parlor floor. Some ways of getting rid of the smaller varieties. Procure a large sponge, wash it well and press dry, which will leave the cells quite open; then sprinkle over it powdered sugar, and place where the ants are most troublesome. They will soon take up their abode in the cells. Dip the sponge in hot water, which will wash them out. Put more sugar on the trap for a new haul. (2) Mix five cents’ worth of tartar emetic in an equal amount of sugar. Make it quite moist with water, put into small dishes and set on shelves where ants are troublesome. The ants disappear as mys- teriously as they came. Keep it out of the reach of children, as it is poisonous. (8) Take one-half cake of yeast and dissolve it in a little water, then add a half-cup of syrup. Set the mixture around their haunts in the saucers of flower-pots. (4) Scatter a few whole cloves on the shelves where they congregate. They appear not to like strong spices. (5) Use borax and red pepper freely. Lay rags dipped in kerosene in their way and tack sticky fly- paper to the underside of your shelves. (6) Wash the inner walls with strong red pepper tea and rub the outer with turpentine soap, repeat- ing weekly. (7) Borax and red pepper; soap, mixed with cayenne smeared on the edges and at the back of the shelves. Let me commend, in particular, the expedient of smearing the underside of pantry shelves with soap into which cayenne pepper has been worked. Next to this I place the sticky fly-paper recommended in premises infested by fleas. Ants seem to have a spe- cial antipathy for the odor of the composition coat- ing the paper. They are often found lying dead in heaps under the paper, without having attempted to cross it. Ants infesting lawns: May be disposed of more easily. Fill a machine oil-can having a long spout, with kerosene, into which you have stirred a tea- spoonful of red pepper. Thrust the tip of the noz- zle as far into each ant-hill as it will go easily and inject the peppered oil into the hole. It is sure death to the depredators. If poured upon the grass it will blight it. Hence the need of a can and nozzle. A grateful correspondent will not object to the insertion here of an extract from her letter: ‘‘T have rid the house of ants by following your directions. I put carbolic soap into all cracks and crevices, rubbed it upon door- and window-sills, and scalded the ant-hills in the garden with boiling water. The ants dislike the odor of carbolic acid in this special soap.” 160 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Since the odor of carbolic soap is unpleasantly suggestive to some of us, connected, as it is, with hos- pitals and infectious diseases, I return to the soap and cayenne. Common laundry soap may be used. If hard, it may be moistened with pepper tea, until soft enough to be wrought into a paste with the powdered cayenne. BOOK-WORMS Not the human variety, but a tiny insect that bur- rows into the bindings of our choicest volumes— leather, morocco or vellum. Happily for our peace of mind, they are less numerous by far than ants, fleas or moths, but when they do get in their fine work, they show no respect for author or decoration. The stoutest bindings crumble before their under- mining. Clean the bindings thoroughly with a dry cloth, and dislodge the insects by the librarian’s trick of striking two volumes together gently and repeatedly. This shakes out eggs and larve. Had this simple precaution been practised every fortnight, the mites would not have been bred in your bindings. When all the books have been taken from the shelves and treated in the way I have indicated, dust the shelves well and go over every part of them with a brush dipped in olive oil, to which has been added one- third part of oil of cedar. Wash the underpart of each shelf, as well as the upper, also the backs, with this preparation, working it well into the wood. ‘When it is quite dry, put the books back into their places and shut up the library for a few hours, that the odor of the cedar may impregnate the bindings. Repeat the process at the end of two weeks. The cedar oil will prevent mold, and effectually arrest the operations of the marauders. CHAPTER XIV FRIDAY (Concluded) OTHER HOUSEHOLD PESTS ROACHES AND WATER-BUGS We abbreviate proper and common names in this hurrying country of ours, and the housewife, curi- ous to classify the insect Arab who roams kitchen and bath-rooms of mansion and flat, defiant of rank and rules—must not consult dictionary and cyclope- dia in the lead of the alphabet. ‘‘Roach’’ is there set down as a fish, and divers other things, includ- ing a style of dressing one’s forelock—never as a beetle. We are in too great a hurry to get rid of him to make a scientific study of the nuisance. Pause we a moment to acquaint ourselves—not with him—we know too much of his methods and person- ality to spend time in rehearsing them. It is inter- esting, nevertheless, to note the faithful description of this pervasive tormentor of the domestic circle, given by our naturalists. “They are nocturnal in their habits and very troublesome in houses, where they often multiply with great rapidity, infesting kitchens and pantries and attacking provisions of all kinds. They have a very offensive smell.’’ Could the most sorely ha- rassed housemother, with a fine command of her ver- 162 z FRIDAY 163 nacular at the service of her temper, sketch our Pest’s portrait more accurately? To cap the climax of odiousness, he inflicts upon the memory a ses- quipedalian title. The common kitchen species is the Blatta (or Periplaneta) Orientalis. His near relative, the water-bug, or croton-bug, is known in scientific circles as Blatta Germanica. He was brought to our inhospitable shores in the hold of German vessels. Ever since then, he has been a stowaway of the vilest type. Borax comes into deserved prominence in the list of our helpers in the business of freeing our prem- ises of native and imported varieties. It is war to the death with us. There are no reservations for aborigines; no naturalization laws for the alien. I have found borax—cheap, clean, and harmless to Christian creatures—more efficacious than anything else tried in my kitchen. My German cook pro- nounced it ‘‘no good’’ after three nights’ experi- ment. At the end of that week she informed me ex- ultantly that the “‘big fellows were all gone, and none but foolish babies came out.’’ In ten days these had also disappeared. We strew borax thickly over shelves and blow it into cracks. ‘You may try mix- ing corn-meal with molasses and red lead into a paste and setting saucers of this in the roaches’ path. Or, substitute tartar emetic for the red lead. Both are highly recommended. One co-worker, to whom I imparted the history of my success, offers a substitute in part: 164 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ‘“Mix equal parts of sugar, borax, Paris green and sulphur. I get fifteen cents’ worth and put it in an atomizer, such as is used for insect powder, and sprinkle wherever they may be. I take everything out of my pantry and put the powder around back of the shelves. Then I put clean paper back on and replace things. It has been there now for about six months. I sprinkle mine at night, and next morn- ing I clean up the floor and wipe off the walls. It must stay in the cracks. You won’t miss any roaches for two or three weeks, but after two or three months there will be no more, if the powder be properly used.”’ It is plain that there is no royal road to extermina- tion. A touch of genius—defined by the great Ital- ian poet-painter as Eternal Patience—is indispensa- ble to success. It has been shown in other cases, that they will leave if pennyroyal is used in their haunts. A good way to use it is to wet a cloth in water; then let fall a few drops of the oil of pennyroyal upon it, and go over the shelves or other places where they are troublesome. A peculiarly tough tribe was blotted from the face of sink and refrigerator, store-room and meal barrel by borax mixed with cayenne pepper. It is main- tained by Southern housekeepers that a strong de- coction of common poke root, mixed with an equal quantity of black molasses, boiled to a syrup and FRIDAY 165 spread upon bread is sure and present death to cock- roaches. They eat it greedily and die. A ‘‘Shut-in’’ who has leisure for experiments in domestic and scientific lines, writes eagerly to me: “Did you know that putting plaster of Paris and sugar together would kill all bugs in the pantry? They get dry and must drink, which kills them after eating.”’ From the Pacific coast we have the authoritative order: ‘‘Five cents’ worth of Paris green, one-half pound of powdered sugar and insect powder puff. In filling puff use one-third of poison to two-thirds of sugar, and place it wherever necessary. Ina very short time the roaches will be no more.”’ A merry young wife wrote joyously to me: “Vou told me in answer to my jeremiad over household pests, to try borax, and encouraged me to think that if the plain borax, used with a free and flowing hand, did not accomplish the object, one pound of corn-starch and one-fourth pound of borax carefully mixed together and laid thickly around their ‘happy hunting grounds’ would clear out water-bugs. I tried it. I couldn’t open a door in the flat but they were dropping down on my head. T tried it—and, presto, change! In two months not one could be seen. That was over a year ago, and none has shown up since. If any more move in I know just what to do.” The conclusion of the whole matter would seem ~ 166 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK to be that (parodying Beau Brummell’s farewell to English imitators)—Borax is the Man! Combined with cloves, with salt, with sugar, with Paris green, or, best of all, with cayenne pepper, it is the chosen instrument of destruction in the con- flict with the Blatta—domestic and foreign. MOSQUITOES If there are no nets in your windows and no screens in outer doors, and you can not rig up a mosquito-net over your bed, bathe faces and hands in spirits of camphor, or rub them with oil of pennyroyal or citronella before you go to bed. You may not like the odor, but the trifling annoyance is more easily borne than the irritation of the poison substituted by the mosquito for the drop of blood drawn from your body. Scientific men have established beyond dis- pute the fact that malaria is conveyed into the human body by the bite of the noisy little insect. He has two characteristics which should be cited in his favor. He gives warning of his attack, and he is not a creep- ing skulker. When he moves, it is on wings. There is no need to turn over the mattresses, or probe cracks in the search for him. Apart from these trifling offsets to total depravity, Uncle Toby himself, ‘‘the pitier of the devil,’’ would have nothing to say why sentence of death should not be pronounced upon the female mosquito. For, although from the force of habit petrified by the usage of thousands upon thou- sands of years, we speak of the malaria-carrier as FRIDAY 167 “the,” it is his spouse who does all the work of their world. Like the hive-drone, he is a cipher at home and abroad. The most effectual guard against the bite of the now-dreaded insect that I have ever known of, is a cone-shaped tablet manufactured in Venice and in general use in Italy. If my memory serves me aright, it was called Sonni tranquillt (Sleep quietly), and each box bore the stamp of the maker—Zam- proni. Our sleeping-rooms were large and lofty, during three winters passed in Italy—winters that ran far into the spring—and mosquitoes had both seasons for their own. Every night, fifteen minutes before bedtime, we placed a couple of the small pyr- amids upon a shovel, set fire to them and amused ourselves by watching the miniature volcanoes as they ignited, puffed, fizzed, flamed, and threw out volumes of aromatic smoke oddly disproportioned to the size of the peak that emitted them. The shovel was waved gently over the beds, and into the far corners of the vast chamber, until the eruption ceased. Then we went to bed, and didn’t so much as dream of stinging singers. The man who imports the marvelous cones into America should fill his pockets, and would deserve a monument at the hands of grateful countrymen. Until then, camphor is our surest refuge. Yet—this hint from a New Jersey woman (who should be an-authority upon mosquitoes) is a move ° in the right direction: 168 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK “Take a piece of paper rolled around a lead pen- cil to form a case, and fill this with very dry Pyre- thrum powder, putting in a little at a time and press- ing it down with a pencil. This cartridge may be set in a cup of sand. An hour before going to bed the room is to be closed and one of these cartridges burned. Two are required for a large room.’’ Coal oil poured on pools or any concavity contain- ing stagnant water will effectually stop all mosquito breeding. FLIES Three rules stand out, unchallenged, in the direc- tions for keeping a house free from this one of Pharaoh’s Plagues: Cleanliness, Darkness, and Coolness. Open the windows wide early in the morning, before sunrise,—as soon after dawn as you can prevail upon yourself to forgo the last delicious doze for the sake of a greater and more general good. Open outer doors, also, and encourage the blessed breeze, as yet untainted by dust and smoke, to blow freely through halls and rooms. By eight o’clock at the latest, the shutters should be closed and the Venetian doors bowed, or fast shut. Within the shaded interior all should be spick-and-span as to dirt, cool in temperature—and silent as far as con- cerns the teasing buzzing of the ‘‘plagues,’’ as hate- ful as the hiss of a serpent to the neat housewife. T read once in a ‘‘Woman’s Corner”’ that the odor of lavender is so obnoxious to the musca domestica that a few drops upon a sponge will warn off the FRIDAY 169 winged trespassers from the table on which it is laid. In generous faith in the ‘‘Corner,’’ I bought the lavender, soaked a sponge in it, and set the saucer containing it on the desk at which I must do a day’s work with the mercury soaring into the nineties, and the flies finding their way into the room by secret paths the human eye could not discover. Looking up from my paper at the end of ten minutes, to repel their attentions, I saw two seated luxuriously upon the sponge, and others crawling over the sau- cer! If you do not mind the sight of sick, staggering and dying flies dropping about table and floor, you may get rid of hundreds a day by making a syrup of brown sugar, adding tartar emetic, and setting saucers filled with it about the room. A syrup of sugar and water mixed with black pepper, is also fatal to them. Old-time housekeepers put this pre- paration in soup-plates and laid brown paper, such as sugar loaves were put up in for sale, on the sur- face of the trap. They also set snares for flies in tumblers three-quarter full of strong suds, on the tops of which were fitted paper covers—smeared on the underside with molasses. A hole was cut in the middle of the cover through which the foolish crea- tures crawled to destruction in the hot, soapy water. They were caught by the tumblerful, for window and door-screens had not as yet been heard of by the thrifty women. Cold green tea, made very strong, left to get cold 170 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK on the leaves, strained off, and sweetened inordi- nately, is as poisonous to flies as to human gossips (who, by the way, always remind me of the most objectionable of the Musca tribe—the bluebottle). Set the syrupy mixture around the room in small saucers. It acts in a few minutes upon the winged pests. Human ‘‘tabbies’’ withstand the poison for years, Try a tea made of quassia, one pint; brown sugar, four ounces; ground pepper, two ounces, Mix to- gether well and put in small shallow dishes. Set these about your living-rooms. To keep flies away from horses and other dumb ant- mals: Pick green walnut leaves (the black wal- nut) and pour boiling water upon them in quantity sufficient to make a strong decoction. When cold, strain, and sponge the horse or dog with it, letting it dry upon him. Flies will not touch anything thus treated. Tea, made in the same way of the green leaves of the watermelon, will have the effect of preventing flies from touching whatever is washed with it. Wild peppermint, and the commoner ‘‘smartweed”’ that disfigures our roadsides, when bruised and rubbed upon the horse’s hide, and in the ears where insects are most troublesome to the worried Deaet will secure him from their attack, ‘When washing windows and floors put a few ace of paraffin in the water, for this will keep away flies, moths, and all insects. Flies will not settle on win- FRIDAY 171 dows that have been washed in water mixed with a little kerosene. RATS AND MICE I recommend, first, a first-class mouser, a cat that understands her business and has a double eye to it night and day. Second—Find the haunts of the ‘‘beasties’’ and with a bellows blow a pungent mixture of unslaked lime and red pepper as far into their runways as it will go. Third—Catch a rat in a trap, besmear him with liquid tar and let him go. He will make for his home and leave tarry tracks wherever he touches the wall or floor. His brethren will be tarred with the same fur, and tracks, and flee for their lives. To prevent mice from coming out of the hole they have made nail a little piece of board over the hole, but before doing so put as many tacks in the board as you can, and have the points on the inside next the mouse’s nose. As he tries to find his way through, it hurts him and he keeps away from it. Sprinkle ‘‘tar camphor’’ about their haunts. They can not abide the smell of camphor and they de- test tar. This precaution is especially useful in drawers and boxes that are seldom opened. The busy little beasts will gnaw through the sides of wooden cases of books to get at the leather bindings, of which they are particularly fond. If the tar camphor be ‘sprinkled freely among the books, they will not touch the cases. 172 |. THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK CATERPILLARS, APHIDAE, ROSE BEETLES, ETC. From a Southern correspondent who is a success- ful horticulturist, I have what he attests is an effec- tual safeguard against the inroads of the foe that lays so many of our pleasant places waste in hot, dry seasons. ‘“Twelve years ago I read of the sulphur cure for the worm pest in an agricultural paper. I had two cherry trees of the Glass cherry variety, that could never be used because of the worms. I followed di- rections minutely; namely, ‘to bore a hole with a half-inch bit into the tree, slanting downward to the heart, at the second run of sap, which is in August, and fill the hole with powdered sulphur, then plug up tight.’ “In two weeks from the time I did it the small caterpillars dropped from the tree in great numbers and the fruit has been most excellent ever since. The simple remedies are often the most valuable. I may add, for those who do not know, that the second run of sap goes up through the wood, and not as in the spring, between bark and wood.”’ In my own orchard I have found much relief from the following application. It should be tried while the fruit buds are forming, and again before the fruit is more than half-grown. It may, also, be used upon ornamental shrubbery, berry vines and climbing plants. Make a strong decoction of Paris green in hot FRIDAY 173 water; let it get cold, stir up well and spray leaves, branches and trunks with it—abundantly. Repeat weekly until the worms are destroyed. For the small green destroyers of rose-trees and blossoms—known to botanist and entomologist as “‘aphide,’’ to the average gardener as plant-lice, and sometimes as ‘‘ant-cows’’—I can recommend treat- ment that has abated the infliction to a satisfactory degree in my own garden. First—Water the earth about the roots of the afflicted plants with lime solution. Stir into hot water as much slaked lime as will dissolve in the li- quid, and cool. Use this early in the morning before the sun hatches the eggs, secreted in the ground, into larve. A semi-weekly soak should, in time, make an end of the evil broods. Second—Beat into this same lime-water a pint of kerosene for each gallon of the lime-water, and con- tinue to beat until you have an ‘‘emulsion.’’ Apply to the bushes early in the morning, or late in the even- ing, using a garden syringe. Third—Water, while the dew is on the roses, with tobacco tea, made over night and left to cool and strengthen until morning. Fourth—Sift powdered white hellebore over the bushes while the dew lies thick upon them; Scotch snuff, applied in like manner, is spoken highly of by some florists. The plague is sometimes so severe and pertinacious that all of the methods I have in- 174 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK dicated are needed. Leaves are eaten into lace- work, and the tender buds of the flowers are riddled to the heart by the voracious wretches. A gardener is responsible for this piece of advice: “Tf plants are infested with insects, cut a potato in half, scoop out the inside, and place it on the soil un- der the plants. The insects will gradually assemble in it.”’ Preventive measures are worth far more than ex- periments upon the full-grown insect. The lime- water destroys the coming aphid. VERMIN IN THE HAIR With the multiplication of public schools and our admirable system of compulsory education, bringing into daily association all classes of society—comes an attendant evil to which too little care is given by mothers who have never known of it in their well- ordered households. In the conduct of a domestic Syndicate, extending over a term of a dozen years or so, my thoughts have been directed to the revolting subject by hundreds of letters from distracted moth- ers, brought face-to-face, and for the first time in their decent lives, with the problem of rooting out vermin from their children’s hair. I use the word “‘rooting’’ advisedly. The child of ten or twelve years of age, who has been allowed to brush and comb her own hair for a year or more, under the supervi- sion of mother or nurse, having never so much as heard the name of a parasite always mentioned in FRIDAY 175 whispers by lips polite (when alluded to at all), is ignorant of the danger of sitting in classes with mates whose mothers neglect the simplest details of per- sonal cleanliness. Before warning of the mischief is given by irritation of the tortured scalp, the loath- some squatters are in full possession, and prepared to defend their rights. The horror of the discovery of © the occupation is absolute misery to the parent. In her eyes, it is disgrace. Shampooing does not clear out the eggs that stick, like limpets to a rock, upon the pretty hair, and so close to the scalp that the comb does not drag them off. Extermination is a work of time and infinite patience, for the tiny fiends breed fast and live long. I see, in imagination, the fastidious reader shut down the page upon the loathsome topic. I could tell tales of discoveries made by the parents of children who attend select private schools, and are never suf- fered to ride in street-cars, that might mitigate the shuddering critic’s judgment as to the propriety of putting this part of my chapter into print. Imprimis, wash the hair and the scalp thoroughly with strong suds made of warm water and tar soap. Add a little ammonia to the suds. Yes! I know it will take the oil and, consequently, the luster out of the luxuriant locks of which you are so innocently proud. The luster may be coaxed back when more harmful things are disposed of. Wash, comb and brush the hair well. Then obey this simple prescription. Tincture of larkspur will certainly destroy vermin 176- THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK in the hair, and make an end of the ‘‘nits’’ or eggs, that cling to the hair and promise other broods. Be careful to keep the tincture out of the reach of chil- dren, as it is a deadly poison, taken internally. Wet the hair and scalp well at bedtime for a week. Old countrywomen have been aware of the virtues of larkspur as a specific for this affliction for many years. But they made a strong decoction of the blos- soms and used it as a wash for the hair. The more potent tincture is a veritable specific, if the use of it be intelligently and faithfully continued. BEDBUGS They may have a dozen aliases, being even more re- pulsive to the housemotherly mind (if possible) than the ‘‘creepers’’ just dismissed with a mighty sigh of relief. The murderer of sleep and the thrifty house- wife’s chiefest dread—is a ‘‘red rover,’’ a ‘‘nocturnal creeper,’’ a ‘‘household pirate,’’ a ‘‘B.B.”’ a ‘‘double B,’’ and so on and so on, until we strike, with a shock that is a surprise at connecting anything so dignified with the noxious—Thing! upon the dictionary name. It is a Cimez lectularius! Henceforward, in dealing with this objectionable creature as briefly as is com- patible with the part he plays in cottage, villa, city flat, hotel, sleeping-car and steamer—let us for the sake of euphony and peace of imagination, speak of him as the ‘‘C.L.”’ (1) The cheapest, deadliest preparation to every kind of insect life, and the one to be found in every FRIDAY 177 house at any time, is ordinary kerosene, or coal oil. Get at the C.L. with an atomizer or a feather. Re- peat the dose every week for three or four weeks, and the cure will be radical. (2) Take a cake of white soap or a piece of tallow, and with a knife scrape as much as is needed; then add an ounce of powdered corrosive sublimate, mak- ing asmooth paste. After washing the bedstead with cold salt water, wipe dry and apply the paste to every crevice. This will not evaporate or soak into the wood as liquids do, but will prove a ready and deadly feast for all partakers. (3) There is nothing else on earth that will kill them or destroy their eggs so quickly as gasoline. It cleans everything it touches, and does not harm the finest finish of anything. Apply it with a five-cent brush or a stiff feather. It will run into the smallest cracks and crevices, and one can easily brush the dead eggs, dust, ete., from the same. (4) Spirits of turpentine applied very freely with a five-cent paint brush to all crevices, edges of base- boards, window and door casings—anywhere that a wise C.L. would seek a hiding-place—will call each and all ‘‘to fold their tents like the Arabs and as si- lently steal away.’’ If they have already taken lodg- ings with expectation of board, in furniture, or if you are moving into a building where they may pos- sibly have an earlier claim, just paint every bit of your bedsteads and other furniture without missing any spot, with brush and turpentine, also upholster- 178 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ing and mattresses around edges and tufting. This, after freeing from all dust and dirt. (5) An ounce, more or less, of formaldehyde, ac- cording to the size of the room—may be vaporized in a room. In this case close the doors and windows and pad them tightly. Do not open the room for twenty-four hours, when every living thing in it will have been killed. Formaldehyde will not injure the most delicate fabric. It comes also in candles—so called—but the liquid is the cheaper form. (6) Fifty cents’ worth of quicksilver from the druggist, beaten together with the whites of four eggs. It takes about an hour, and it will form a kind of paste. Buy a small flat brush, such as artists use (you can buy it at a painter’s for ten cents) and paint the corners of mattress and springs and all crevices in the bed and room with the paste. (7) A good mixture is one ounce of corrosive sub- limate dissolved in a gallon of gasoline. With a plant-syringe inject the mixture into every crack of walls and floors, beds and other furniture. It will discolor nothing, so you may use it freely upon mat- tresses, etc. Take one room at a time, and then shut it up for twenty-four hours. Open in broad day- light, admitting the air freely and keeping artificial lights out of the room. Sweep thoroughly and burn the sweepings at once. These ‘‘infallible’’ preventives and extirpators set down here were made over to me by seven of the best housekeepers of my acquaintance. The moral FRIDAY 179 | of the collection is: If the particular breed of C.L. that makes your life a burden does not yield to one of the ‘‘sure-and-certains,’’ try another. Now, may I offer a bit of my personal experience? The C.L. was imported into my new and dear country cottage within two months after we took proud pos- session of it, by a new cook who had come direct from one of the maids’ boarding-houses that are favorite breeding-grounds of the abhorrent creeper. As I learned later, the woman took advantage of our week’s absence on a visit that summer, to remove her pillows and herself to our bedchamber during our so- journ with our friends. A fortnight later, the hor- rible truth of the C.L.’s occupancy of my bed and the baseboard of our chamber was revealed. I spare the reader details touching the condition of Bridget’s own room on the next floor. We ripped up her mat- ting and tumbled it out of the window, sending bed- clothes to keep it company. All were beaten at a safe distance from the house, then left in the blaze of the August sunshine for three days. They were turned every hour and taken in at night. Mattress, bed- stead and walls were soaked with a mixture of gaso- line and camphor. Half a pound of gum camphor was broken into bits and put into a demijohn. The next morning the demijohn was shaken hard and long. Then, with a syringe, the liquid was injected into every crack of the flooring and above the base- board. A strip of molding running along the junc- tion of the walls with the ceiling, required and had 180 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK earnest attention. The creatures were ambushed there in squads. After saturating the mattress and spraying the bedstead, as I have said, we closed and locked the door. Nobody entered the room for two days. Jt was opened and aired at the end of the time and a new tenant was installed. For twenty years not a C.L. was seen there. Then a drunken cook arrived from the city, went to bed within an hour after she alighted from the train, and arose at my stern insistence at ten o’clock the follow- ing day, that she might be sent back to town. She had slept in her day clothing, and when the chamber- maid stripped off the sheets to air the bed, she found thirteen lively specimens of the C. L. clan between them! The room was treated to another course of gasoline and camphor, with the same result that at- tended the former experiment. Yet housewives wonder ‘‘how upon earth a C.L. ever finds its way into a decent house!’’ Gloss over his name and nature as we may, he is a filthy thing! In our day of much travel and indis- criminate mingling of passengers of all nationalities and habits of life, the price of exemption from the crafty and incredibly prolific C.L. is perpetual vigi- lance. The canny chambermaid pries warily into the corners and tufts of mattress and pillows daily ; pokes an inquisitive hat-pin into the crannies of the iron or brass bedstead tri-weekly, and suns blankets duly in “‘the good old summer time.’’ It is so much easier to keep ‘‘them’’ out than to get them out that she does not grudge the trouble.. CHAPTER XV. SATURDAY FLOORS, WALLS AND THEIR COVERINGS ‘When the sun is in the West Lazy people work the best.’’ Many a housekeeper who has striven conscien- tiously to keep up with the demands of five working days, is morbidly inclined to apply this morsel of pro- verbial philosophy to her hard-driven self with a dif- ference as to the time of extra labor. It can not be right—so she reasons—that every Saturday should be so full of ‘‘must-be-dones’’ from the rising of the sun until the going down of the same, that she can hardly catch her breath between them. “Tf I were a really good manager and wisely sys- tematic,’’ runs on the self-accusation, ‘‘this would not happen every week. Things’’—convenient and all-embracing word!—‘‘would be kept in such order that Saturday need not be general cleaning-day.’”’ For her comfort be it said that this has been the experience of every other housewife since the begin- ning of Time. I dare say that Eve bestowed unusual 181 182 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK care upon the ‘‘happy walks and shades’’—the bow- ers, that “‘Touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew,’’— on the day preceding the Sabbath. Throughout all Christendom, the wish prevails that the ‘‘day of rest and gladness”’ shall not be marred for us by the ghost of duty unfulfilled. With some of the workers there is a subconscious desire to sweep and garnish as for the reception of the Lord of the Sabbath. The ordinary houseworker has a rooted aversion to carrying the labors of this week into the next. One of the ear-marks of the slattern in the eyes of her fellows is the trick of putting off a little ironing, a _ little serubbing and half the silver-cleaning until the more convenient season which, like to-morrow, never comes. Duties thus postponed, gather weight like snow-balls. They are as hard to pick up as dropped stitches and have the same effect in the finished whole. “A time for everything and everything in its time,’’ trots smoothly in harness with the age-worn maxim quoted at the beginning of a former chapter. In obedience to this, much of the work set down un- der the head of Saturday, should be done in the ‘‘be- tweenities’’ of the preceding days. At least two- thirds of it belongs to the house-cleaning period. The grouping of the multifarious ways and means of banishing dirt, and keeping it at bay, is contrived for the sake of convenience in reference. Have all your implements handy before you begin SATURDAY » 2iBS your cleaning—brooms and brushes, plenty of scrub- bing- and dust-cloths, broom-bags, soap, turpentine and chlorides, or caustic soda, for pipes. In this important task—one that is surpassed in gravity and in detail by none with which we have heretofore grappled—begin we with CARPETS— THE CARE AND THE CLEANSING THEREOF Carpets—the care and the cleansing thereof: Let me drop a word of motherly counsel to the young housekeeper, who recoils in dismay at the prices asked for velvet, Axminster, and body Brussels, and who faces the inexorable necessity of covering the floors of house, or apartment with ‘‘something.’’ Do not have oriental rugs or velvet carpets in your parlor and cheap, thin ingrains up-stairs. Better matting for all the rooms—if the floors are of plain deal—and lay down rugs of serviceable filling in solid colors, that harmonize with furniture and wall pa- pers. Buy the filling by the yard; cut it into desired lengths and fringe out the ends. An excellent qual- ity may be bought at one dollar a yard, and, being alike on both sides, it will last twice as long as if it were not reversible. One of the thousand-and-one minor annoyances for which the housemother—no matter how experienced —is never prepared, is that rugs of single-ply ma- terial will curl at the corners. She may reverse them daily as punctiliously as she winds her watch, and by night they snarl as viciously as a cross dog raises his 184 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK lip at a stranger’s approach. Voluminous essays have been printed upon the ‘‘total depravity of inani- mate things.’’ Our veteran housewife can give points on the subject to the ingenious authors. To curb the disposition of your ‘‘filling’”’ rugs, tack a triangular bit of corrugated rubber, about six inches long, on the sides that make the right angle, under each corner of the rug. Bore several small holes in each corner of the rubber and sew through the holes and carpet. The stitches will be hidden by the pile of the rug, the short stitches being on that side. When the rug becomes faded, rip off the rub- ber, tack it on the other side and reverse the rug. TO DRY-CLEAN RUGS Be they cheap or expensive, there is no better way of dry-cleaning rugs at home than this: . First, beat the rugs until no more dust flies from them. Then lay them flat and cover them thickly with powdered fuller’s earth. Rub it in with a brush as if you were scouring. Roll up the rugs upon the powder and leave thus for a week before brushing and beating. After doing the weekly sweeping of carpets, take a dish-pan half full of water, with a cupful of am- monia in it and sweep the wrong way of the nap with it. One can not realize the amount of dirt taken up which otherwise would be ground in. It leaves it fresh-looking and likewise preserves it. SATURDAY, 185 TO WASH ORIENTAL RUGS One woman who rejoices in the possession of one dozen ‘‘real’’ oriental and antique rugs, testifies, upon the word of an occidental Christian, that she never sends her treasures to a professional cleaner. : “*T clean them at home and fearlessly,’’ she asserts. ‘‘Fearlessly, because I have done it every year for ten years. I trust nobody else to handle them, the operation being delicate in certain stages. ‘First, beat them thoroughly on both sides; then lay them on a flat surface and go over them with pure soap, warm water and a new scrubbing-brush, scrub- bing well but not too roughly if they are old. Sponge off well with several waters, then take a board with a perfectly smooth, rather fine edge (a piece of pic- ture molding is good) and scrape them—drawing it across them until all the water you can squeeze out is gone. Hang them in the air and dry thoroughly. If they have fringe put it into the suds, and squeeze out and it will be of beautiful creamy white.”’ I have made experiments almost as daring with my own oriental rugs, seven of which have been in active use in my house for a quarter-century, and which promise to wear twice aslong. I have sopped up ink with skim milk, and scoured the milk out with am- monia; I have taken out grease with a paste of ful- ler’s earth, and washed out the tracks of muddy boots with warm suds, and the colors are as firm as when I 186 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK bought the rugs. So I can believe my friend’s ac- count of her heroic practice with hers. TO SWEEP BRUSSELS, THREE-PLY AND INGRAIN CAR- PETS If you use a broom—and this may be necessary about once a week, even when the floor is treated to the sweeper daily—you may scatter tea-leaves, well squeezed, over the floor before beginning the work. Or—wet newspapers, tear them into bits, squeeze out all the water that will come away, and use instead of the leaves. Or: if the carpet be very dirty :—Mix in a big pan coarse cornmeal, three parts—dry salt, one part. Sift several times to incorporate them thoroughly, and strew thickly all over the carpet. Rub it in with a blunt broom, then sweep faithfully, once against the nap, once with it. You will be horrified—yet delighted—at the quantity of dirt that will be rolled up under the vigorous strokes of the broom. If two sweepings do not get all the meal out, try a third. If you will substitute dry salt alone, for the meal and salt, it will freshen the colors, take out the dirt and kill moths, larve and eggs, should any be in the wool. When sweeping a dusty carpet or rug, you may moisten bran such as you get in the feed-store, with clear, cold water; work with the hands until all is moist, and sprinkle over the carpet. Rub it in with the broom or brush; then sweep it all off. It will bring out the colors finely without raising any dust. SATURDAY 187 The broom does its work well, if adroitly plied. The woman who understands how to work it to ad- vantage, stands straight, holds the handle firmly, yet not with a fierce grip that tires her and stiffens the broom. She sweeps away from her, and if the whole room is to be swept, works from the corners toward the center of the floor. In so doing, she does not lodge dust in spaces the broom has already visited, but in a compact heap where all of it may be seen and taken up with the dust-pan and brush. The carpet- sweeper is a saving of spine, muscles, strength and time. A good one costs but a couple of dollars or so, and it will last for years. Sweep out the corners as usual first; then run the sweeper all over the carpet. The labor is much less- ened, the carpet is cleaner than if swept with a broom, and very little dust is raised, so there is a saving all around. If rugs are used, a hair broom or old broom, covered with a cloth, is necessary to re- move the dust from the floor about them. Carpets can be cleaned and the color restored by going over occasionally with a broom dipped into warm water to which has been added a little turpen- tine. Once in ten days wash the carpet broom in hot soap-suds, shake it well and hang it up where it will dry quickly. A broom thus treated will last very much longer than one which is not washed, and it will clean the carpets much better. None of the methods in which broom or sweeper is 188 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK used will clean the carpet, unless the implement be itself clean. Every time the sweeper is used it should be opened, the fluff, hairs and dust removed and the box brushed on the inside. The two minutes spent in the business will be repaid with interest by the increased efficiency of the sweeper. About once a month, moisten the brushes of the sweeper with gasoline in summer, and in winter with household ammonia. This disinfects the implement, and keeps it free from parasites that might, else, be scattered over the carpet. Brushes of all sorts last longer and do much better service if they are cared for and kept clean. House- hold brushes should be washed frequently. A good solution for this purpose is made by dissolving a pound of washing soda in a quart of hot water. This may be bottled and used at any time. When you are ready to use the solution put a tablespoonful into a quart of water and wash your brushes in that. A little soap in addition for the soft brush is a good thing. Rinse in cold water and dry in the open air. TO SCRUB A VERY DIRTY CARPET It was reserved for the brave housemother of to- day to demonstrate that no carpet—not even nursery ingrain, or a kitchen rag-carpet—need be thrown away because it is, apparently, hopelessly soiled. To leave it as it is would be dangerously unsanitary. It is whole in woof and stanch in warp. Stiff with ad- hesive dirt, including grease and stickiness, the sight SATURDAY. 189 of it is an offense to the neat-handed mistress and a disgrace to the household. If the colors be tolerably fast the apparently hapless article may be scrubbed into comely usefulness. ‘Have it taken up and beaten on both sides with stout whips that will get out the loose soil, yet not break the threads. This done, tack it again to the floor. Have ready two pails of clear hot water. In one dissolve one bar of good laundry soap, one that makes a fine lather. If your carpets have many light shades, use one cup of gasoline to a gallon of suds. If the carpet be all wool, use a few spoonfuls of am- monia. With a good stiff serub-brush scrub the car- pet as you would the floor, but do not soak it. (Wring your cloth in clean warm water and rinse off the suds; then wipe as dry as possible with a clean cloth. If your carpet is not too wet when you get through the work, it will soon dry if the windows are left open. The repeated caution against soaking the carpet means much. Wipe as fast as you wash, doing a small space at a time, and changing the cloth with which the wiping is done before it gets wringing wet. The oftener you substitute a dry for a damp cloth, and the more effectually you get the wet out of the carpet, the sooner and the better the job will be done. Let no one tread on the carpet until it is perfectly dry. Do the washing on a hot day when the sun shines brightly and the wind brings no dust into the room. 190 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEHEK A second formula for scrubbing carpets comes from a practical and a capable housekeeper. Two bars of white soap, shaved fine; one gallon of water; four ounces of borax; sixteen ounces of sal- soda; four ounces of puverized fuller’s earth. Boil until well mixed; remove from the fire. Add three gallons of water and a half-pint of alcohol. Apply the solution to the carpet as directed in the foregoing recipe. This formula is especially useful when the carpet has lain on the floor of dining-room or kitchen, and is badly spotted with grease. The borax, sal-soda and fuller’s earth have direct reference to the pre- ponderance of oily matter in the dirt. MATTINGS Mattings are less expensive than carpeting and cooler—perhaps more healthful—for summer wear. When buying matting get three or four yards extra for summer rugs. Cut this into the desired lengths and finish at the edges by pulling out the straws to . the depth of about four inches and tying the threads. These rugs protect the matting as well as heavier ones, and are easily cleaned and, best of all, there is no fuzz and nap to wear off and make frequent Sweeping a necessity. If you put matting down, be sure the floors are thoroughly dry before it is laid. Year old matting gains new life by being wiped up with salt and water. Do this not oftener than twice in a season, as the SATURDAY 191 brine has a tendency to rot the straw, if applied fre- quently. For other cleaning, when it gathers grime, sprinkle the matting with Indian meal and sweep it thoroughly, sweeping out the meal and the dirt with ab Widths of matting sewed together with a loose stitch, using carpet thread, make the floor covering look neater and wear better than when staples are used to fasten it down. Even tin tacks, double headed, which are generally preferred to staples, rust in time, especially after the matting has had several washings, leaving ugly marks on the straw. Another advantage in sewing the breadths together is that dust and refuse do not settle as in the cracks left be- tween widths of matting put down in the usual way. Mattings, as well as carpets, should be lifted yearly in a house which is constantly occupied. The best mattings are the cheapest, since they are reversible, as a rule, thus yielding twice as much service as the poorer and loosely-woven varieties that break into fuzzy splinters after one summer’s usage. LINOLEUM AND OIL-CLOTH Here, again, an article that costs somewhat heavily at first, looks better and lasts so much longer than the next best of its kind that it is wise economy to buy it when one can afford the original outlay. Inlaid linoleum will show no sign of wear for years, if prop- erly cared for, the blocks or lozenges being made separately and set into the fabric like a mosaic. The 192 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK treatment of it is the same as that bestowed upon the cheaper oil-cloth when laid upon the floor. Neither of them should be scrubbed. If this course be fol- lowed the gloss will quickly be worn off. It should first be carefully washed with a soft brush, to remove all the dust and fluff, and then wiped with a large soft cloth wrung out in tepid (not hot) water. If it is very dirty it may be necessary to use a little soft soap, but this should be done rarely, and on no account must soda be used. When it is dry, wipe over with a cloth or sponge dipped in skim milk. This in winter will brighten and preserve the colors and give it a polish. After sponging with the milk dry with a cloth. The milk should not be used in warm weather. It attracts flies, no matter how carefully it is dried. In winter, the drying must be thorough, as the dust, in settling upon the dampened oil-cloth, will form a vis- cid film with the milk. On this account, we never have our kitchen linoleum sponged with milk while we are in city quarters. The direful and unescap- able ‘‘blacks’’ that sift between window-sashes and keyholes give a dingy complexion to curtains and floor-coverings, be the housewifely watch never so vigilant. Use a soft, fine cloth in wiping oil-cloth and lino- leum. A coarse, rough piece of osnaburg, or bur- lap, will, in time, scratch the polished surface and injure it. Save old crash towels and other linens for the purpose. SATURDAY 193 PAINTED FLOORS Housewives are not agreed as to the use of cold or of lukewarm water in cleaning paint. There is but one opinion among experienced cleaners as to the effect of hot water upon floors and walls coated with paint, with varnish, or with oil. it softens and dims paint; takes off varnish, leaving a sticky residuum, and transforms an oiled floor into a dirty surface that calls dismally for detersives. Says one housewife: ‘‘When cleaning paint, use simple cold water with a sponge or woolen cloth, wip- ing off with a dry cloth, and you will be surprised to see how quickly you will have to change the water. I have used this method for three years and could not be induced to go back to warm water.”’ On the other hand a woman who has kept house as long, and as successfully, maintains that warm water does the work better and in less time. I let her speak for herself and for her theory: ‘“We have just cleaned our kitchen walls, which are painted, and are so well pleased with the result that I would like others to know how we did it. To the one ordinary scrubbing-pail about two-thirds full of warm water we added a heaping teaspoonful of bak- ing soda (saleratus) and washed the walls with a sponge, rinsed with clear warm water and wiped dry with a cotton cloth. “The walls look as fresh and clear as though freshly painted. The soda does not injure the paint 194 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK in the least and this way is much easier than any I ever tried before. It is also good for painted wood- work. I used about a pound of saleratus for our kitchen walls and woodwork, for I changed the water quite often—it was so soiled.’’ Number three puts in her oar with a short, strong stroke: ‘Paint should be cleaned with a sponge and luke- warm water to which a little ammonia is added. Wipe dry with a clean cloth.”’ Number four is as laconic: “Scrub with washing soda and cold water, taking a small area at a time, and wiping dry before goine on to the next.’’ After reading these and dozens of other opinions based upon experience, I am not inclined to alter my own belief and practice. We wipe up our painted area and veranda floors with lukewarm water to which has been addéd a little kerosene. The warmth of the water keeps the oil thin, and the ker- osene takes up the dirt after a manner peculiar to it- self, while it brightens rather than dulls the polish. PAINTED WALLS Painted walls may be treated in the same way, changing the contents of the pail often. You can not have clean paint if it be washed with muddy water. Sweep the floor for the like reason before wetting it. Apropos of sweeping—the integrity of the paint would be maintained much longer if a hair-broom SATURDAY. 195 were used instead of the common straw besom. The latter scratches if plied diligently. For many years I have had hardwood and painted floors swept with brooms done up in red or gray flannel petticoats. A bag of the size required to envelop the broom is sewed up on three sides and hemmed at the top. Into this hem a stout tape is run and when the broom is in the bag, the string is drawn, and tied about the handle to hold the bag in place. The flannel wears out in time, but the paint and varnish hold their own, and coarse red flannel is cheap. Sometimes I have sub- stituted lead-colored Canton flannel for the flannel, with the fuzzy side out. It sweeps clean, but when the fluff wears off the bag is threadbare and compara- tively useless. Don’t make the mistake of cleaning paint with sand soap. It scratches the paint; the other soap will do the work. OILED AND HARD-WOOD FLOORS A notable New England housewife (and there are no more intelligent homemakers the world over than our New England dames) has generously written down for our use the story of her experience with a hard-wood floor of domestic manufacture. ‘¢Tn most households the easiest way to care for the floors is a problem. For the benefit of any one who will try my way I gladly give my recipe. While the expense is something at the start, it is a joy unde- scribed. Any man handy with nails can lay a floor over an old one. 196 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK “‘My husband purchased hard pine tongued and grooved boards, laying them the long way of the room. Jam the boards together as you nail, to close the cracks. Be sure to use perfectly dry stock. Use slim wire nails and ‘blind nail’ securely down. When all is done, sweep two or three times, and if there are any spots do not attempt to do any washing, as water spoils the whole effect of the finish. ‘Now, make a swab of old cloth and go all over the surface, wetting every part with linseed oil (raw). Let this stand all night. Repeat the second night. In a few days go over the whole with common lamp oil, wiping it off very much as you would with water if washing. Wipe with a soft cloth. ‘Do this work on a sunny morning, leaving doors and windows open for several hours. The floor, without the lamp-oil finish, will show spots, but when finished in this way no spot can be found, except, of course, molasses or some sugary mixture which sel- dom finds its way to the floor. Spots of this kind can be removed with warm suds. ‘“My husband laid my kitchen floor two years ago, and it looks as good as the day it was done, and no hard work either. When we take into consideration that we have no back hall, and there is a perpetual grind of sand and dirt, it is wonderful how well our floor always looks with so little care.’’ It is not every John who can handle a carpenter’s tools so deftly as our New Englander’s obliging hus- band. But in every neighborhood there are carpen- SATURDAY 197 ters who can work by the directions here laid down. We are under obligations to the housewife for telling us how to care for the oiled floor after it is laid. I think she would do well to avail herself of the in- estimable kerosene in cleaning the oiled boards. This is the most approved method of treating a floor that has been oiled, not varnished. Water that is just blood-warm is mixed with a little kerosene—say a cupful to a gallon of water. A cloth is wrung out in this and the floor is wiped with it—neither scrubbed nor swabbed. Change the water fre- quently. ‘When oiling floors, use a woolen cloth rather than a brush. If the oil is thoroughly rubbed in with the cloth the result will be much more satisfactory than when put on witha brush. The same is true in stain- ing floors, and in this case the stain should be rubbed into the wood with one cloth and then rubbed off with another. Grained and varnished imitations of hard wood are best cleaned by rubbing well with cloths wrung out in borax soap-suds. Afterward, they should be rubbed with a flannel barely moistened with kerosene. Tf there is too much kerosene it will dissolve and blur the colors. Tf you would prefer a stained to a painted floor, try the recipe which follows: Tf there be traces of the old paint or varnish on the boards, scrub thoroughly with warm water and soda to get every bit of it out of the grain of the wood. 198 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Then go over the floor with borax water. Finally, wash with clear cold water and let it dry perfectly. When completely dry, take one gallon of boiled lin- seed oil, best quality, and two heaping tablespoonfuls of burnt umber. Heat the oil hot in an iron kettle. Then stir in the finely powdered umber, and with a paint-brush apply it as hot as you can. When dry, the floor does not need scrubbing. A mop wrung out of warm water will clean it nicely. The amount of oil and umber given will supply two coats for a floor fourteen to sixteen feet square. For one coat take about half the amount. Total cost of the two coats, about ninety cents. In my country house I have had the use of hard- wood floors for thirty-odd years. They are hand- somer now than when they were laid. Once a year they are put in perfect order by a painter who under- stands what we want and how to doit. For the next six months they have constant and severe wear, with no protection except the rugs that lie in the most ex- posed sections of the rooms. They are never washed, nor is a drop of kerosene allowed to touch them. The one idea of the housemaid of commerce, when set to clean a finely polished hard-wood floor, is to fetch the oil-can. If forbidden to do this violence to the shin- ing surface, she resorts to the practice I have indi- cated in the care of oiled floors. Only, she souses the cloth in the pail and dashes the oily liquid over the boards with a free and flowing hand. Curb her zeal—so far short of being according to SATURDAY 199 knowledge—and your own temper (if possible). A polished hard-wood floor should be dusted and never scoured. Do not so much as wipe it with a dampened cloth. The dust is removed with a petticoated broom, and the corners of the room are investigated with a soft dry cloth. If there are foot marks which will not yield to the dry cloth, dampen it very slightly with cold water, and erase that one spot. Once a fortnight, have everything taken out of the room and wipe the floor with dusters made of old silk, or fine muslin—or best of all—with chamois skins. If you can not have the services of a competent painter, try one of these formulas for the requisite “‘nolish.”’ Melt together in a bowl set in hot water half a pint of turpentine, two and one-half ounces of powdered resin, three-quarters of a pound of beeswax. Do not let these ingredients come in contact with fire while melting, as they are all inflammable. When melted apply to the floors with a soft cloth and polish with a brush. The second recipe was given to me by the aforesaid painter who knows his trade and my wants: A good furniture and floor polish is made by mix- ing well together two parts of crude linseed oil and one of turpentine, adding a tablespoonful of salt to the gallon. Apply with soft flannel; rub in faith- fully ; throw a cloth over it so as to exclude dust, and three hours later polish with clean chamois skin. A housewife, who has made trial of the latter for- 200 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK mula and expresses herself as well pleased therewith —contributes this note to her testimonial: ‘‘Once a week, after all the dusting is finished, I wipe my polished stairs and floors with an old cotton cloth, on which has been poured a very small quantity of floor oil—just enough to moisten the cloth and take up the dust. It also helps to restore the gloss, which kerosene and some other oils remove or deaden. Remember to use as small a quantity as possible, or the floor will be oily and sticky; and do the dusting first, or it will look just as bad as ever when it is fin- ished. One quart of the oil has lasted me nearly two years.”’ VARNISHED AND WAXED FLOORS Good floor varnish, lke outside varnish, never washes off. Give the floor a couple of coats of good varnish, and then wax it and keep it rubbed up with an oily rag. A good oil for rubbing it with may be made from linseed oil, one pint; turps, and about one and one-half gill of Japan. Mix them all together, rub on the floor with a woolen rag and wipe them off dry. This makes a fine floor and furniture polish, if you don’t let the the floor go too far before you use it. In a good many places where there are varnished floors the owners keep them waxed when they begin to look shabby. Varnished floors are not made to be washed with soap and water. SATURDAY. 201 Polish, where a bright surface is desired: Half a pint of alcohol, half an ounce, each, of resin and shel- lac powdered. Mix these with the alcohol, then add half a pint of linseed oil. Shake thoroughly before using. A good floor wax: Melt a scant half-pound of beeswax; set in a pan of hot water; add, gradually, stirring well, a quart of turpentine, and when mixed, a half-cupful of ammonia. Cover the saucepan con- taining it closely, and set the outer vessel of hot water at the back of the stove to heat for ten minutes. Ap- ply warm with a piece of flannel, and polish with a rough cloth. Paint stains on a floor may be scoured off by soak- ing them for a short time in benzine or turpentine, and then rubbing them with emery paper or a little pulverized pumice stone applied with a damp cloth. Clean flannel dipped in paraffin oil will satisfac- torily remove marks on polished or painted wood if rubbed on for a few minutes. Wipe with a clean cloth wrung from hot water to remove the odor. From the care of floors we rise by a natural transi- tion—to WALLS Clean spots on kalsomine with white chalk, blend- ing the edges with the surrounding surface by rub- bing gently with a clean, dry sponge. Painted walls may be washed with lukewarm suds, or cleaned with a cloth wrung out in kerosene. For hard-finished walls use dry bread as you would upon a papered sur- 202 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK face, rubbing always in one direction and changing the bread frequently. TO CLEAN WALL-PAPER Papered walls should be freely rubbed with pieces of stale bread, dirty marks receiving special atten- tion, and afterward rubbed with a soft cotton duster. If an entire room is to be cleaned, or if a whole breadth of paper is badly grimed, and you have not been far-sighted enough to have laid aside in trunk or closet an extra roll to match each room, you may clean the room after this fashion: Buy five cents’ worth of oil of sassafras, five cents’ worth of glycerin, five cents’ worth of blue-stone; pour on this two quarts of boiling water; stir in flour, then knead like bread. Take a piece the size of a cof- fee-cup, rub the paper by down strokes only; after each stroke mix or lap the dough before making the next. Go on in this way until the piece of dough is soiled all through. Then take another piece and pro- ceed as before. This is a very valuable recipe. But a simpler, and often as efficient cleanser is made of buckwheat dough, mixed stiff with hot water, without shortening or salt. Knead it until it is luke- warm, break into handfuls, and use as in the more elaborate recipe. Do the work with patience and care, and the result will reward you. If carelessly performed, you will have a streaked surface. To remove grease from wall-paper: Rub with SATURDAY 203 chalk, and leave it on for a day. Then lay blotting paper upon the chalk, and press a warm iron upon it. Or, use fuller’s earth in the same way. Or: Rub the spot over once or twice with a piece of flannel dampened with alcohol. Do not have the flannel too wet, or it will blister the paper. To remove paper from a wall: Since the paperer will charge you for the time it takes him to strip the walls and make ready for the new covering, it is an economical measure to have the surface prepared for direct operations before he comes. Have at hand plenty of warm, soft water, and several large sponges. Sponge a yard or two of the paper until it is soaked and blistered. Then strip it from its weakened hold. Proceed thus until the wall is bare. Wash faithfully with suds of warm water and borax soap; lastly, rinse and wipe dry. Do this a day or two before the arrival of the workman who is primed with charges at the rate of four dollars per day ‘‘for time.”’ Another way: With a paste brush go over all the paper to be removed, with paste, missing not one inch, and the paper will come off in one-tenth of the time it will with water. The secret lies in the fact that the paste keeps the paper damp and loosens it completely. Holes in walls can be stopped with plaster of Paris, but mix this with vinegar instead of water, or it will harden so quickly that it will be difficult to manipu- late. 204 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK WHITEWASH Whitewash, while out of vogue in the living-rooms, is always in requisition in cellars and outhouses. It plays an honorable part in the work of sanitation everywhere. I offer a recipe which is in high repute under the title of: Government whitewash: Slake half a bushel of lime with boiling water; cover the process to keep in steam; strain the liquid through a fine sieve or strainer, and add to it one peck of salt, previously dissolved in warm water; three pounds of ground rice, boiled to a thin paste and stirred in while hot; half a pound of Spanish whiting, and one of glue, previously dissolved by soaking in cold water, and then hanging over a slow fire in a small pot hung in a larger one, filled with water. Add five gallons of hot water to the mixture, stir well, and let it stand a few days covered from the dirt. It should be ap- plied hot, for which purpose it can be kept in a kettle or portable furnace. A pint of this wash mixture, if properly applied, will cover one square yard. Coloring matter may be added as desired. For cream color add yellow ochre; for fawn, add, proportionately, four pounds of umber to one pound of Indian red and one pound of common lampblack; for common stone color, add, proportion- ately, four pounds of raw umber to two pounds of lampblack. The name is not an empty boast. The whitewash, SATURDAY 205 thus compounded, is in general use upon Government buildings. The painted walls of a bath-room should be washed with a sponge dipped in common baking soda—then Sponged again in clear warm water. The painted walls of a kitchen are harder to wash satisfactorily, but first use the baking or bicarbonate of soda, after- ward sponging with soap and water. Soda cleanses white paint or enamel most satisfactorily. BURLAPS As a wall-covering burlap is growing into favor, particularly for hall and the walls of staircases. It is objected to by many people on account of the ex- pense. They do not, however, take this advantage into consideration: it may be tinted or re-colored without removing from the walls, either a dull or a glazed finish being easily put on, making it quite as good as new. The first cost of burlap exceeds that of paper of the same general effect, but its wearing qualities make it less expensive in the end. All the care it requires is brushing every few days to rid the threads of dust and ‘‘blacks.’’ If of good quality it holds the color a long time and may be re- newed indefinitely as I have remarked. TILES In bath-room and hall tiles have superseded lino- leum in a majority of modern houses of the better class, and in many apartments suitable for tenants 206 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK of moderate means. They are pretty, easily kept clean and durable. If they become spotted wash them over with lemon- juice and leave for fifteen minutes, then rub them up with a soft cloth. It is much better never to wash tiles, but simply rub them over with a damp cloth and then with skim milk or milk and water. If, however, they are unglazed and very dirty, dip a damp flannel in very fine clean sand and clean them with this, using as little water as possible and then polish with milk as before. Tiles in which real fireplaces are set, are liable to suffer from smoke and soot. Clean them with flannel wrung out in kerosene, taking the time for the task when the hearth and chimney are cold. Wash, then, with milk and wipe with a soft linen. GILDING Gilding on chandeliers and curtain-rods will show the effect of dust, dampness and the presence of flies, after a few months. Do not make the mistake of treating them as you would brass or ornaments or utensils. Fly marks and general griminess may be removed from gilding by dipping a small piece of cotton wool in gin, and with it rubbing the soiled parts gently. The cotton wool should be squeezed before it is ap- plied to the gilding, for this must not be made really wet, and any damp on it should be dried as soon as the marks have been removed. SATURDAY 207 Cover grease spots on wood or stone with flour, starch or powdered chalk, which will absorb the grease. Cold water thrown on grease as soon as it is spilled will harden it; the greater part may then be scraped off. ‘Hot water which has been poured over tea leaves, allowed to stand half an hour and then strained is excellent for use in cleaning varnished paint. CHAPTER XVI SATURDAY (Continued) WINDOWS AND FURNITURE WINDOWS AND MIRRORS Choose a cloudy day for washing windows, or if the sun shine, do not wet the windows while the rays fall on them. Some housewives insist that they ‘‘want to see the dirt if it is there,’’ and after hours spent in polishing, wonder that the glass is streaked. The reason is plain. The sun dries the moisture un- equally before the cloth can take it up. Add ammonia—a tablespoonful to the gallon—and twice as much kerosene, to lukewarm water. Stir well and dip a soft linen or old cotton cloth, or a soft sponge, into the mixture. With it wash each pane separately, drying with another cloth and paying particular attention to the corners. Before leaving the pane, polish with a wad of news- paper, rubbed between the hands until all stiff- ness is taken out of it. Proceed in this way until the whole window is cleaned. As will be seen at once, you must clean the upper part of the window first, or the process will be interfered with by drippings from above. As a preliminary 208 SATURDAY 209 step, in this as in other cleanings, the loose dust must be wiped off before the panes are wet. Go over the glass with a bit of old silk, if you have it, or with a cheese-cloth duster. Diamond panes in lattice windows: The modern villa is almost sure to have a few windows thus filled. Sometimes they are of colored, sometimes of ground glass. They are more troublesome to get clean and to keep clean than plate-glass, because it is a ‘ fin- ical’’ job. Stir a little kerosene into tepid water. Rub pieces of newspaper soft, and soak in this; squeeze each al- most dry and clean the ‘‘diamonds.’’ Wipe at once with old linen. With other newspaper, rubbed be- tween the hands and not wet, polish the glass. Professional window washers do not wash them at all. After rubbing off the dust and grime, they cover the glass with a thin paste of whiting and household ammonia, leaving it on for an hour or more, then polishing with old newspapers. Printer’s ink has something to do with the cleansing qualities of the paper. ‘Another way: Clean windows with a flannel dipped in paraffin and polish with a clean duster. It imparts a fine polish. To remove paint from glass:..A woolen cloth dipped in household ammonia will do it almost in- stantly with a little brisk rubbing. If the paint be hard and dry—swab with a sponge dipped in alcohol and turpentine until it cracks and scales off. 210 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK To keep windows free from frost: For this form- ula I am indebted to a shop-keeper who has made trial of it when the frost would otherwise have dimmed his show windows into the similitude of ground glass. ‘‘Bore a small hole—say one-half inch—in the framework directly below, and another directly above the plate glass; if a large or a wide window, two holes would be expedient both top and bottom. It can be seen that these holes give free circulation, making the temperature of the glass more nearly equal in- side and out. At the same time it does not change the temperature of the store or room to any appre- ciable degree. If this is properly done, the show windows will be perfectly clear. “Should the above be impracticable for any rea- son, the following is good: Alcohol rubbed on the glass at frequent intervals serves a double purpose by keeping away frost and keeping windows clean. It may be diluted with water, if the operator so de- sires. ‘For ‘steam’ or windows blurred with dampness, place a cigar box of lime immediately under the glass and it will absorb the dampness.”’ If glycerin be diluted with water and rubbed on the glass, the frost will not settle upon it. Mirrors: Yor taking finger marks from looking- glasses, put a few drops of ammonia on a moist rag and rub the blurs with it. Mirrors which are fly- SATURDAY 211 specked should be washed with cold water and then polished with a chamois dipped in alcohol. To polish a dim mirror: Mirrors kept in rooms to which light and air are seldom admitted, contract a film which is not easily taken off with soap and water. It is a mistake to suppose that it goes deeper than the surface of the glass, although the usual methods of cleansing do not brighten the latter. Keep for this purpose a piece of sponge, a cloth and a silk handkerchief, all entirely free from dirt, as the least grit will scratch the fine surface of the glass. First, sponge it with a little spirits of wine, or gin and water, to clean off all spots; then dust over it pow- dered blue tied in muslin, rub it lightly and quickly with the cloth, and finish by rubbing with the silk handkerchief. Be careful not to rub the edges of the frame. A home-made re-silver for a mirror: Dampness, excessive heat, much moving and jostling sometimes injure the amalgam which makes the value of a mir- ror. If you are within reach of a professional framer, gilder and mirror-renewer (the crafts are frequently combined in one man) and the glass be large, your wisest plan is to send it to him. Small glasses may be re-backed at home by one who is deft of hand, but it is a delicate piece of business. Pour upon a sheet of tinfoil about three drams of quicksilver to the square foot of foil. Rub smartly with a piece of buckskin until the foil becomes bril- 212 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK liant. Lay the glass upon a flat table, face down- ward; place the foil upon the damaged portion of the glass; lay a sheet of paper over the foil and place upon it a block of wood or a piece of marble with a perfectly flat surface; put upon it sufficient weight to press it down tightly; let it remain in this position a few hours. The foil will adhere to the glass. TO CLEAN POLISHED FURNITURE ‘An upholsterer, in a moment of confidence, let me into his secret of cleaning a piano which had gath- ered a purplish mist that obscured the polish in many places and defied the usual methods of dusting and rubbing. It looked slight but it was so obstinate that I called in professional advice. The man was as hon- est as he was skilful, and I was a good customer. He asked for a bowl of lukewarm water and white soap, a sponge and a chamois skin and a soft linen towel. Then he let me see him work. He mixed a very little soap—a mere dash—with the water, wrung out the sponge in it and washed a space about a foot square on the defaced case. This he wiped quickly with the chamois skin wrung out hard in the same water. Finally, he polished it dry with the soft linen, and went on with the next twelve inches. ‘CA trick of the trade!’’ he explained. ‘‘Generally, it is done within closed doors. Very simple, you see, but it must be well done—and quickly.”’ That was thirty years ago. I have cleaned pianos and other highly polished furniture in that way and SATURDAY 213 in no other way-ever since. The annoying purplish film will collect upon the face of new furniture. The absence of this is one of the hall-marks of the genuine antique. No matter how excellent the imitation, the appearance of the faint mauve veil condemns it for the connoisseur. Smears, spots and superficial scratches may be ef- fectively treated with a piece of old flannel wrung out nearly dry in kerosene. White spots on furniture, left by hot water, or hot dishes, or sharp acids, are one of the common blem- ishes of polished and oiled woods. Try, first, wood alcohol, rubbing it in well. Should a whitish mark remain, wet a bit of flannel with a bit of camphorated oil—just such as you would use upon your baby’s sore throat—and rub the spot faith- fully with it until it is absorbed. Then cover the spots with olive oil, leaving it on all night. In the morning rub the oil well in. This will remove scratches and slight indentations. Use asbestos mats in future under hot dishes and plates. You may buy them with washable covers, more or less ornamental. An equal mixture of turpentine and linseed oil will remove white marks on furniture caused by water. Home-made furniture polish: (1) Take a table- spoonful of sweet oil, the same of turpentine, a gill of vinegar and the white of one egg. Place in a bot- tle and shake until thoroughly blended, which will be in about five minutes. Apply in the usual manner. 214 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK (2) For shiny ‘‘polishing’’ wood furniture, add a few drops of sweet oil to shellac varnish on ball and rub over a small space at a time till it ‘‘knacks’’ and shines. A little experience will show you. (3) For ‘‘wax finish’’ dissolve thinly shaved par- affin in rather hot turpentine and polish. (4) If you want varnish to ‘‘stay’’ smooth, apply it very thin (thin down with wood alcohol or with turpentine). Then put the article in a closet, if pos- sible, or in a warm room without draft, as the more slowly the varnish dries the longer it will stay smooth. Then rub down with fine sand or emery paper until the surface is perfectly smooth. Apply another thin coat. Dry slowly again. Apply a third coat in the same way. This is a little more trouble, but thus you can get almost a piano finish. The best varnish for furniture is thinned ‘‘marine’’ varnish—or use bleached shellac varnish, in wood alcohol or grain al- cohol. The quartette of ‘‘helps’’ just set down may be depended upon as trustworthy, since I have them from an eminent chemist who has been a valiant and true co-worker with me for years in what I have been permitted to do for American households. I can not pass his contributions over to others without a grateful word. Wasxed tables: Get a quarter of a pound of bees- wax (the unbleached will do) and have ready a piece of carpet a quarter of a yard square, lined with a piece of cloth and padded. Hold the wax before a SATURDAY 215 fire, and as it melts coat the cloth well with it, and while yet warm begin to rub the table briskly. Rub for a quarter of an hour. Dining and hall tables were rubbed by the hour with this compound in the very lang syne. One of my earliest recollections is of being lulled into a de- licious morning doze, while the sky was still pink with the sunrise, by the steady rub! rub! rub! of the waxed cloth upon oaken floors and mahogany ta- bles downstairs. The wax did much, but in the opin- ion of the Virginia housemother, ‘‘elbow-grease’’ did more. Clean hard wood with a flannel wet in turpentine and rub afterward lightly with boiled linseed-oil. Take off spots with fine sand mixed in oil. Apply it with a leather and rub with clean leather afterward to bring back the polish. So says one who uses solid woods, and no veneer. Instead of sand I should recommend the use of a very fine emery cloth for spots that will not readily yield to the oil. OIL PAINTINGS AND GILT FRAMES Again I say, that if the article that needs cleaning be very valuable, it is better not to try to renovate it at home. I have seen really handsome oil portraits irretrievably injured by scrubbing at the hands of a dirt-hating housemaid. Never brush the painting with a stiff broom or whisk. Hach application leaves a tiny scratch, and habitual use of .the brush will 216 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK roughen the surface, destroy the varnish, and dull the colors. Oil paintings may be cleaned by rubbing with a cut raw potato. Rub gently with a circular move- ment, and sponge off the dirt with tepid water. Dry with a very soft cloth, or better still, a silk handker- chief. This method is good for all oil paintings, but care must be taken not to wet the back of the canvas. Unless you have had some experience in varnish- ing do not undertake this part of the restoration yourself. Let each movement be exceedingly gentle. If the painting be unequivocably soiled and black- ened superficially with smoke and dust, content your- ‘self with wiping it off with the damp cloth. The cut potato will bring away more dirt, and if used cau- tiously, can do no harm. If the canvas be not grievously begrimed, wipe it off with a clean, soft cloth wet with weak suds, drying it at once. Then dampen the cloth in suds to which has been added a little kerosene. This process will get off the dust and grime. If the painting be valuable, do not meddle further with it. Send it to a restorer of paintings and have it put in good order. Like caution must be exercised in treating gilded frames that have lost luster and are scaling off in spots. There are patent gilding fluids highly praised by the makers and venders. I am assured by do- mestic furniture-tinkers that battered and rusty gildings may be made to look passable by one or all of the following applications: SATURDAY. 217 (1) To clean or brighten gilt frames boil four or five onions; add sufficient sulphur to give a yellow color. Strain. Wash with the liquid when cold. (2) A little gold paint to touch up the worn patches, and then a washing with a paste made of the whites of three eggs beaten up with one ounce of bak- ing soda. (3) Buy from a paint dealer ten cents’ worth of dry bronze powder and a like amount of banana oil. Mix, as you need it, to the consistency of cream. Do not mix more than you need, as it dries up when left standing. It is much cheaper and better than the gilt mixed with benzine bought in bottles. The amateur gilder should try this, and another home-made preparation, upon a bit of wood before applying it to the frame, and learn from experience the right degree of coloring and consistency. (4) If the frame be soiled, wipe with a soft cloth wet with strong onion tea. Should this fail, try a flannel wrung out in kerosene. If the spot be dark and deep, have a gilder cover it with gold leaf. Here is a borrowed suggestion as to making the nails from which pictures are suspended ‘‘fast in a sure place.”’ Often in putting up heavy pictures that are hung from a screw in the wall rather than from the picture molding, the greatest difficulty is experienced in get- ting the screw to fasten securely in the plaster. This is a simple remedy. The hole made by the screw is enlarged and the 218 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK edges of the plaster are thoroughly moistened with water. Then the space is filled with plaster of Paris and the screw pressed into the soft plaster. When the plaster becomes hardened the screw will be found to hold very firmly. LEATHER-COVERED FURNITURE When but slightly soiled by daily wear, the contact of weary heads upon the backs, and of childish fingers on arms and seats, your library furniture may be cleansed without injury by a simple process, and without calling in professional aid. Wring out a flannel cloth in neat’s-foot oil. You may buy it from any harness-maker. Rub the leather well with this, throw a sheet over it to ex- clude dust and leave it thus for several hours to let the oil sink into the leather. Wipe and polish with chamois skin. The formule which succeed this are for badly- rubbed and faded leather. (1) Turpentine and beeswax melted to the consist- ency of thick cream make a fine polish for leather up- holstered furniture. (2) To restore the leather covers of chairs to their original luster, wet the leather first with a little hot milk. Then, after melting beeswax in hot water, add to it enough turpentine to give it the consistency of a thin cream. Put this mixture on the leather covers and polish them with a soft cloth. (3) To clean and polish the leather coverings of SATURDAY; 219 chairs, etc., mix together equal parts of vinegar and linseed-oil, apply very sparingly with a piece of flan- nel and polish with a soft cloth. The same treatment is excellent for French polished furniture, but it must be remembered that the vinegar and oil mixture is to be applied sparingly and that ‘‘elbow grease”’ is to be used generously. (4) Leather-covered chairs may be cleaned by mix- ing together half a pound, each, of French chalk and fuller’s earth, two ounces of powdered starch and one ounce of yellow ochre. Wet with boiling water until a thin paste is made and add a tablespoonful of sweet oil. When it is cold spread on the leather and let it remain until perfectly dry. Then brush it off, removing every particle of the mixture, and polish the leather with melted wax and turpentine, using four ounces of wax to a gill of turpentine. The leather may be darkened, if so desired, by adding a little oil to the wax. (5) Carefully dust the leather, then wash with warm water, being particular to remove all soiled spots and dirt. . | Wipe dry and then wipe over with a black cloth dipped into beaten white of egg mixed with its bulk of warm water. (6) Flaxseed water is good for cleaning leather upholstered furniture. Pour half a cupful of boil- ing water over two tablespoonfuls of flaxseed and bring to the boiling point. Strain, and when cool apply with a cloth to the leather. 220 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK MATTRESSES, DOWN DUVETS, ETC. Not one housewife in fifty is alive to the necessity of watching over the well-being of the mattresses which have superseded the unsanitary, clumsy, and uncomfortable feather beds of our Dutch and Eng- lish forebears. Necessity—if one would keep the mattress in good looks and prolong its natural period of usefulness. I take it for granted that your mat- tress is in two sections. The object of making it in this form is two-fold. The wear is equally distrib- uted, and the mattress is more easily handled by one pair of arms—and that pair a woman’s. Turn it over and around daily, and be on the lookout for rips and breaks. Watch for the working loose of tufts; —nothing else so tends to get a mattress out of shape and order as letting this go unheeded. If it is per- manently neglected, the mattress must soon be made over. Beat the mattress lightly with a furniture paddle once a week, and with a pointed brush get the dust and fluff out of the tufts. A housewife who looks well to the ways of her bedroom and slights no other part of a large house, advises her not very strong sister to sew with a stout thread at regular intervals loops of wide tape, dou- bled, to the bindings of the seams. She represents that they help with the daily turn- ing, and add to the lasting qualities as well. Pulling at the sides of a mattress to get a firm hold may re- SATURDAY 221 sult in strained ticking and in binding dragged away from the seams. It is not a steady pull that hurts, but the false strain caused by taking hold of a surface which doesn’t yield a hand-hold. If the mattress be much soiled and is yet too sound without and within for you to think of going to the expense of having it made over, clean it at home. On a clear, hot day scrub the soiled parts with a stiff brush and hot soap-suds and borax. Scour fast and hard; then go over it with a dry brush and pow- dered borax, rubbing it in well. Leave the mattress to dry in the sun. When quite dry, brush off the powder. If spotted during illness by medicine, food or blood, make a stiff paste of corn-starch and glycerin and cover the stains with it. Apply a paste of fuller’s earth to grease spots. Leave both kinds of paste on for twenty-four hours; brush out the powder; wash the soiled places with borax soap and renew the paste. CLEANING FEATHER PILLOWS ‘A German Hausfrau commends this way of han- dling feather cushions or pillows: “‘Sew together two sheets of light material. Put into this bag the contents of one pillow, or enough to be easily handled in a wash-tub or machine. Have good, warm soap-suds; then put in your bagged feathers. Rub and shake as you would any piece of soiled goods. Wring out first in clear hot water, #hen in cold; lastly, wring out as dry as possible. 222 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEHEK Stretch your clothes-line back and forth about eight inches apart, forming a bridge, where the sun and wind strike freely. Lay your feather bag over the line, and during the day keep turning and shaking now and then. If not dry the first day, take into the house over night and repeat next day. When almost dry beat lightly. When dry the feathers will puff up and fill the bag. In the meantime have your pillow cases washed, and the feathers are now ready to go back into them, sweet and. clean.”’ A capable New England woman contributes what appears at the first reading, strenuous treatment: ‘Feather pillows may be freshened and the feath- ers be made light by placing them out of doors in a: clean spot during a hard rain. Let them be thor- oughly wet and then hang in a warm place to dry. Spots on the pillow cover may be removed with a paste of water and fuller’s earth. Another way to clean the feathers is to place them in a cheese-cloth bag and wash them in warm, soapy water, followed by several rinsings in clear water.”’ The best renovator of feathers of which I have any personal knowledge is the sober, old-fashioned method of sunning them. Turn them out of the tick upon a clean sheet spread on the dry grass. If you have not access to turf, the tin roof of a house is the next best thing. Do this on a still, hot day, so that the feathers will not fly about. Stir them up well, and lay over them a square of light netting. Visit the feathers hourly while the sunshine lasts, and SATURDAY, 223 shake and turn them faithfully. The sun and air will do the rest. Take the feathers in before the dew falls, bringing the edges of sheet and netting to- gether intoabag. If you havea vacant room or attic where they can be spread out at night, the good work will go on all night. A second day’s sunning will complete it, if these directions be obeyed. The feath- ers will be odorless and fluffy. A musty or rancid odor in a feather pillow is in- tolerably disagreeable, besides being excessively un- wholesome. Before you decide to throw the offend- ing member into the garbage-cart, or upon the manure heap, try laying it upon the damp ground all day long for a week, turning it hourly. The sweet, warm, damp earth is the best of disinfectants. To wash down duvets and comfortables: It is my privilege to lay before my readers several well-au- thenticated ways of washing the duvets without which no bedroom may be considered well-furnished in our luxurious age. (1) To clean a comforter that is not badly soiled, select a hot, windy day, put up a strong clothes-line and pin the comforter on single, with clothes-pins about five inches apart. Prop it up well and then, without further ceremony, turn the hose on it. The water, forcing through the cotton, will carry with it every bit of dust and dirt. When the comforter is dry, it will be as fluffy and clean as when first made. Do not wring or squeeze. It is the wringing that mats the cotton and makes it hard. When mine are 224 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK soiled around the edges, I take a soft brush, warm water and soap and scrub the edges before giving the shower-bath. Down puffs and pillows may be cleaned in the same way. (2) Make a suds of any good soap and plunge the down quilt into it fearlessly. It will look wretched and will probably need plenty of rubbing and several waters, after which it must be hung in the air—not in the sun if the colors are delicate—for several days. It should, of course, be brought in at night and it will need much shaking and loosening of the down, which will settle in the corners, but in the end, if carefully done, it will look just like new. (3) Down quilts and small feather or down pil- lows which have become soiled can be washed at home with very little trouble or expense. First, choose a good day, for the drying is half the battle, and you need plenty of sunshine and a gentle wind. Use lukewarm water and one of the many pure soaps that are in the market just now and avoid a wash-board. It will not be of any help and it will certainly pull your quilt or pillow out of shape. Rub thoroughly with the soap, squeezing and patting with your hands as you might fine woolen underwear. Rinse in two or three clear waters and hang up to dry in the sun- light. A dash of salt in the water will keep the colors from fading. THE FEATHER DUSTER This implement is only tolerable when new and downy. After it has been worn down to the stems SATURDAY 225 and points of the feathers, it does more harm than it ever did good in its plumiest days. It is always superficial and pretentious. ' A cloth, with or without a handle, is always prefer- able to a brush, be the latter ever so soft and fluffy. The feather duster is the darling of the housemaid whose own the furniture is not. It is one of her mistress’ pet aversions, offering, as it does, an indef- inite series of illustrations of the truth of the old saw, ““What goes up must come down.’’ The dust dis- lodged by a jaunty flick of the gay feathers is as sure to settle again, and more thickly than at first, as sparks to fly upward and snow to fall. The best duster is a soft cloth, which retains what it wipes up, and can be washed again and again. Since Phyllis, ‘‘neat-handed’’ or foul, is a fixture in the home and is stanch in allegiance to the dust- dispenser, and Abigail is wedded to her ways, and the politic mistress will not make a stand upon non- essentials, no word of mine will do away with the tawdry implement. Then—keep it clean! It takes to its heart the invisible germs of disease and the just-visible eggs of moths and fleas. Then it is hung in a dark closet, and the pests breed abundantly. Wash it semi-oceasionally in alcohol and camphor, and hang it up in the sun and wind to recover curl and stiffness. While in the bedroom, we will bestow a few min- utes upon the care of the brass bedstead, which has become so popular. 226 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK THE BRASS BEDSTEAD So few of us cling to the wooden bedstead that the hints dropped with regard to the proper care of the ancient and ponderous article in our chapters upon Household Pests may suffice. The brass, the enam- eled, or the painted iron bedstead is one of the most judicious of the hundreds of inventions the nine- teenth and twentieth centuries have made on the sev- enteenth and eighteenth. If it be pure brass, it requires no more care than a fender, candlestick or fire-dog of the same material. Dust daily, rubbing off any blurs with a soft old silk handkerchief, flannel or chamois skin. When it needs a regular burnishing use old flannel cloths wet with kerosene and rubbed upon the pomade sold for this purpose. Brass beds, chandeliers and lacquered goods may be improved by putting a little sewing-machine oil on a soft rag and going over the bed or fixtures. The oil will remove fly specks and leave a luster. It does not harm the lacquer. Never use such things as onions, lemons, benzine, turpentine, gritty soap, acids or lye, which will remove the lacquer, more or less, pro- ducing a coat of verdigris if the articles be not cleaned every day or two after the lacquer is re- moved. I add cheerfully to what has gone before, the sane observations of a sister housemother: “If metal beds are chosen with an eye to keeping SATURDAY: 227 bright, and then given just a little care, there is no necessity for dullness and tarnish. Experts say that brass ought not to tarnish if it is properly treated in the first place, and the brass trimmings to white beds are the first places usually that show wear. Be care- ful in getting your bed to see if the trimmings (or the bed itself, if it is all brass) are carefully finished. If you do not know the signs yourself, ask some one who does; it may cost a little more than you thought, but it will be less in the long run. Enameling can be done (redone, that is) at home with very little trouble. Enamel paints cost so little that there is no excuse for letting a, white iron bed get shabby, even though frequent handlings may have scarred the enamel here and there. Once in every few weeks an enameled bed should be gone over with a soapy rag; it is surprising how much dirt will come off and how fresh the enamel will look after cleaning.”’ The last injunction for which I can make room before dismissing the brass bedstead may seem over- fastidious to the busy woman who has but one maid, yet who would fain believe that her tasteful furniture is well kept: ‘‘Never touch the brass without having a cloth be- tween your hands and the part of the bed that you have hold of, as the perspiration will tarnish it. Never hang anything in the line of clothing over it, as some people do. By taking these precautions you may keep a brass bed for years, by dusting all parts of the bed once or twice a week.”’ CHAPTER XVII SATURDAY (Continued) VARIOUS HOUSEHOLD FURNISHINGS THE BATH-ROOM A stationary wash-stand in a sleeping apartment is now generally recognized as a menace to health. All manner of ingenious traps, warranted to let everything down and not even the lightest of gases up, were introduced to quiet the qualms of people who were ‘‘up’’ in germ-literature. "When scientists and the growing death-rate in luxurious mansions demonstrated the active superiority of deadly sewer- gas to plumbing precautions, standing wash-stands in houses of the rich were ripped out, and each bed- chamber was provided with a private bath-room. Unfortunately a mighty majority of our readers— respectable, and making up the bone, sinew and brains of our population—can not afford to live in mansions and allot to each member of the family a suite of rooms. To the dwellers in city tents, other- wise ‘‘genteel’’ flats, I sound one sharp, clear note of warning. Dark living rooms are a menace to health, always and everywhere. Bath-rooms which are lighted and ventilated by casements opening into sleeping apartments (and they may be counted by 228 SATURDAY. 229 the hundreds in our large cities) should be con- demned and abolished by the Board of Health. No matter how attractive the apartment may be in other respects, decline to take it. Air and fumigate as ‘you will, it becomes a tank of sewer-gas, all the more deadly when nearly, if not quite odorless. A ‘‘bad smell’? is comparatively harmless. Like that pink of chivalry, the rattlesnake, it gives fair warning of approach and peril. I have in sad memory such a mad mistake made by the architect of a handsome house owned by a friend of mine, twenty years ago. The bath-room attached to the nursery had a hinged window in the division wall. The two little daughters of the house slept in the nursery, and on cool nights the nursery was ven- tilated by means of this casement. Both children suffered continually from malaria, although the neighborhood was healthful. One never recovered from the ‘‘mysterious visitation.”’ You may well ask where were the doctor’s eyes that he did not denounce the nuisance when called in to the hapless innocents. I might answer that they were keeping company with the architect’s com- mon sense and common humanity, and the maternal instinct which should have taken the alarm at the first sight of the quarters in which her children were to sleep and play. Fresh air, hot water, and borax are our best weap- ons against the insidious foe. There should be plenty of fresh air in your bath- 230 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK recom. Unless the weather is so cold that there is danger of freezing the pipes, leave the window open, day and night. Even upon intensely cold days let a sluice of germ-destroying air rush through the room several times a day. Once in twenty-four hours at all seasons, flush the pipes leading from bath-tub and bowls with scalding water, choosing the time when it is at the hottest and letting it run for ten minutes. As soon as it is too warm for you to bear your hand in it without shrinking, put a handful of borax in the tub and in each bowl and turn on a full head of hot water. Next to kerosene, borax is the housewife’s best ally in cleansing. It is also antiseptic and medicinal. I keep three grades of it upon a shelf in my bath-room: a large tin can of pulverized borax for cleaning por- celain linings and nickel fittings, and for the ‘‘flush- ing”’ I have spoken of; a smaller can of boracic acid (in powder) for sores, fever-blisters and corns; lastly, a dainty can of perfumed boracic taleum for chapped hands, ete. I could not support housewifely existence without my borax. Scald the pipes often witha strong solution of chloride of lime, dashed liberally with red pepper. Loathsome things are bred in the pipesfrom effete matter lodged there. When I say ‘“‘seald,’’? I mean that you should flush the drains, including the supply and waste pipes, with boiling water for ten minutes at a time, until your end is gained. Then keep the SATURDAY. 231 pipes clean by similar means. Three times a week, when the water is hottest, let it run for ten minutes in all the pipes. TO CLEAN BATH-TUB, BOWL, ETC. A plumber says that stains on porcelain tubs, wash-stands and sinks are caused by allowing the surface to be injured. When new, porcelain is as smooth as a piece of window glass, but if rubbed with sand soaps, its surface becomes like a piece of ground glass from which no cleansing agent can take the stain. He recommends common household am- monia for cleaning. In cleaning bath-tubs, wash-bowls and sinks, when the dirt collects around the sides, a little kerosene does the work twice as quickly as any. kind of scour- ene. Pour the oil into an old dish; take a white soft cloth, dip in the oil and smear all over the tub. The stains come off at once. Then wash over thoroughly with warm suds. It works like a miracle. Uo the same with the wash-stand and water-closet. If the bath-room has tiled sides the oil takes all stains off. To clean an enameled bath take a heaped table- spoonful of kitchen salt, moisten it with turpentine and with it scour the bath; then rub with a clean cloth. Before beginning operations take care that the bath is perfectly dry. For marks on enameled tub: Rub with whiting and lemon-juice applied with a stiff brush. Let the 232 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK paste dry upon the enamel. After an hour scrub it off with a flannel wet with kerosene. Five cents’ worth of oxalic acid to a pint of water, kept on hand, is very useful to drop on a rag and rub on the dirty marks that the kerosene will not remove. The same applied with a rag and a stick will remove bad stains in closets and the inner edges of the marble wash-stands. To clean marble: Use no soap. A mixture of lemon-juice and whiting, spread upon marble, left to dry for some hours, then washed off with pure water, will whiten it. Vinegar may be used if you can not get the lemon. Fine table salt rubbed in marble will remove a stain unless the latter be of too long standing. For iron stains on marble, wet the marks with oil of vitriol, let it remain fifteen or twenty minutes, then wash off and rub dry with a soft cloth. To bleach discolored marble: Make a paste of whiting and lemon-juice, and cover the marble with it, leaving it on all day and night. Wash off with pure water. Never use soap in cleaning marble. Repeat; leave on again for twenty-four hours, wash as before, and when dry sponge with peroxide of hy- drogen. TO REMOVE RUST FROM NICKEL-PLATING Cover the rust spots with mutton tallow. Let this stand for a few days, then rub with finely powdered SATURDAY 233 rottenstone. Wash off with strong ammonia water and then clear water. TO CLEAN SPONGES When very foul wash them in diluted tartaric acid, rinsing them afterward in water; it will make them very soft and white. POLISH FOR FAUCETS, BATH-ROOM TRIMMINGS, SILVER- WARE, ETC Take two common candles and grate them fine; add one pound of rottenstone powdered and three pints of benzine. Shake well before using. A few drops of lemon-grass oil will deodorize it. Apply it by rubbing on with a rag and wipe dry with a clean rag. To keep faucets bright: Polish as bright and smooth as possible, then varnish with good spar var- nish. You can wipe them off with a moist cloth, which process should leave them bright. Iron rust on marble: Make a paste of wood ashes and kerosene and rub it well into the rust. Leave it on for a few hours before scouring it with dry ashes (sifted fine) and a flannel cloth. This will remove rust from almost any surface. If you can not get wood ashes, use whiting. The escape pipe: A can of lye and the garden hose will cleanse any drain pipe, no matter what the ob- structions may be. 234 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK BATH-ROOM SOAPS Keep soaps meant for cleaning the paint, sink and other appurtenances of the bath-room distinctly apart from toilet soap. For the former have none but that which is of good quality and old. The older the better. You know that soap was among the preserved domestic commodities found in Pompeii. Hard as stone, but lathering freely when wet! In humble imitation of your notable foremoth- ers, buy soap by the box six months in advance of using it, cut it into squares and spread them upon the attic floor to ripen. It is mellowed by age, losing caustic properties and giving off by evaporation, the volatile and useless elements of turpentine. More- over, in hardening, it lends itself to economic princi- ples. Bridget-Thekla-Dinah would do violence to tradition and established usage, if she did not let the square of soap lie in the bottom of the dish-pan or wash-tub while she is rubbing the clothes or sous- ing, swabbing and ‘‘dreening”’ the breakfast, lunch- eon and dinner ‘‘things.’’ When in draining off the dish-water, she finds a dab of saponaceous jelly in the bottom of the vessel, she dumps it in the sink. Green—that is, new—soap is an extravagance the thrifty carefully avoid. If for no other reason, the woman who does her own work should eschew it be- cause it eats into her own hands—making them sore, coarse and red. Old soap is bland. Save all the scraps of soap from kitchen and bath- SATURDAY; 235 room and wash-basins in bedrooms, in a tin can kept for them. When nearly full, add enough borax to make a jelly-like substance, pouring boiling water over it. Unless the bits are very minute, shave them fine with a sharp knife. They jell more easily. If they remain hard, set the tin in boiling water for half an hour. Next, strain and squeeze the warm jelly into an earthenware crock through cheese-cloth. Cover it to keep out the dust and set upon the bath- room shelf along with the borax cans. The shelf in my bath-room is of glass and easily kept clean. The towel roller is of the same material, never rusting or mildewing what is hung upon it. The saponaceous jelly gives forth a goodly smell, softens and whitens the hands; washes mattings and scrubs carpets, and is beyond praise in cleaning bath- room and kitchen utensils, particularly nickel or sil- ver. Now that porcelain is so common in kitchen and bath-room, the housewife should learn the sim- plest method of keeping it free from discoloration and stains, or for getting rid of these blemishes when they appear. As it is the custom of nearly all of us to take bric-A-brac that needs cleansing into the bath-room for convenience’s sake, some directions for the task are submitted under this head. MARBLE STATUETTES Turn on hot and cold water in tub or basin so as to have a lukewarm bath for the image. Set it in this, 236 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK and, with a soft brush wash it carefully, cleaning out carvings and corners. Dash water freely over it when clean, and set in the air, but not where the sun will strike it, to dry. Do not touch it with a cloth. The brush does the heavy work, the shower-bath the rest. No soap! PLASTER FIGURES Dip in cold starch of moderate consistency; set in the window, but not in the sun, until perfectly dry. If you leave them all day it will not harm them. Brush the powder off with a soft, dry cloth or a com- plexion brush. MARBLE SLABS Mix two parts of common soda, one part of pumice stone and one part of finely powdered salt. Sift the mixture through a fine sieve and mix it with water, then rub it well over the marble and the stains will be removed. Rub the marble with salt and water, then wash off and wipe dry. ALABASTER If alabaster ornaments are merely grimy, washing with soap and water will clean them; if, however, they are stained, wash them first and then spread carefully over them a mixture of whiting and water, made into a stiff paste. Wash this off after a few hours. SATURDAY, 237, MOTHER-OF-PEARL Mother-of-pearl may be cleaned easily by washing it with whiting and cold water. Use neither soap nor soda. GLASS GLOBES Wash them with soap and water to which a little salts of lemon has been added. The great difficulty of getting the ground portion of the globe to look white is that grease, settling in the roughness, is very hard to remove by soap and water alone, or even by the help of soda. After the globes have been care- fully washed in the manner recommended, do not dry them with a cloth, but, after allowing the water to run on them for a while, let them drain dry. GLASS BOTTLES Glass bottles: To render stained bottles beauti- fully clean and bright, put in salt and pour in vine- gar; stand a few hours, then shake. CANDLESTICKS To clean candlesticks whether tin or enameled, fill them with boiling water to clean them. Do not allow the water to stand any time, but pour it off and then thoroughly dry the candlestick with a cloth. In this manner grease and dirt may be removed without damage to the color or substance of the candlestick. 238 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK TO CLEAN A SEWING-MACHINE Put the machine close to the register, the radiator, or the stove, and throw a blanket over it to keep in the heat. Do this that the caked oil about it may melt. Then oil it thoroughly with paraffin. Work it quickly for a few minutes, wipe off all the paraffin and dirt, treat it to a little more paraffin, wipe it again and after the application of a very little of the ordinary lubricating oil it will be ready for use. THE PIANO ‘A piano not receiving much usage should be kept open at least an hour each day, excepting on rainy days, when it should be closed when not in use. Do not expose to dampness or intense heat or cold, or to sudden changes of temperature, as all are injuri- ous to a piano, and rusting of the strings and other metal parts, sticking of keys, rattling of the action, becoming out of tune, breaking off of varnish will be the result. Place the instrument against the inner wall, if possible, away from a hot stove, open fire or register. Pianos should be tuned at least three times a year by a competent tuner. One of the best-known agents for cleaning and re- storing the color of the piano keys is alcohol. Dampen a soft cloth with alcohol and wipe off the keys, rubbing with the grain. Dry with a soft linen or flannel cloth. If piano keys are exposed to the sunlight occasionally they will roe their color much better. SATURDAY; 239 If the keys are very yellow, and the alcohol does not whiten them, wet strips of white Canton flannel with oxalic acid and lay upon them. Take care that the flannel is not so wet as to drip upon the wood of the case. It is well to protect it with a piece of oil- cloth adjusted below the keyboard. BOOK-SHELVES At least twice a year clean your library thoroughly —oftener if you can make time for the task. Take every book from your cases, and dust them first in the librarian’s way, which is by striking one with another lightly, so that the dust flies out; then dust them with a cloth. Scrub the shelves on both sides and in front with turpentine mixed with hot water, and when dry, paint them with cedar oil. It will keep the book-weevil away and impart an agreeable odor to the room. THE KITCHEN SINK The sink can not be made sightly by any device. It is unmistakably and irretrievably ugly. It is, nev- ertheless, the criterion of the housewife’s or the cook’s ‘‘management.”’ ‘Show me the sink, and I will describe your cook,” is a homely old saying. Tf it be littered with tea-leaves and coffee-grounds ; if it be whisk-clean, save for a greasy gloss on bottom and sides, while in the far corner the blackened whisk conceals a disgusting deposit of refuse and coagu- 240 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK lated fats;—you need not inquire verbally as to the manner of that mistress’ housewifery, or that cook’s fidelity to the duties of her calling. An excellent detersive for cleansing and sweeten- ing a kitchen sink is washing soda. Dissolve a cou- ple of handfuls in hot water, and when boiling hot, pour down the drain. Pour chlorides down pipes, or, perhaps better still, caustic soda, which cuts the accumulated grease. Scald the sink every other day, flushing the pipe with the hot water for ten minutes at a time. Once a week add to this a strong solution of chloride of lime. Keep a sieve hanging above the sink and use it when anything that contains sediment is poured out. The grating fixed in the bottom of the sink is too coarse to keep back the substances which clog the pipes. The worst of these is, of course, grease, in- visible to the careless eye when hot, but afterwards working out the troublesome fruits of neglect. It coagulates upon the sides of the drain, and if not “‘cut,’’ becomes as hard and as impervious to water as wax. Nine-tenths of the disastrous stoppages in the pipes that flood the kitchen floor with all manner of uncleanness, and involve the expenses of the plumber and his as costly assistant (why must a plumber invariably bring along a helper when one man could do all the work?), at least nine-tenths, I say, of the mischief wrought by obstruction and flooding are the direct results of a collection of grease SATURDAY. 241 that should never have been thrown into the sink at all, or if there, should not have been suffered to stif- fen into a mass. In consideration of this truth, the reiteration of the injunction to flush the pipes regularly with caus- tic alkalis is none too strong. My favorite bath- room ally, borax, is a useful thing to have in a kitchen. Add a little to the water when boiling out enameled saucepans, and it will help to clean them. If added to the water in which dish-cloths are washed, it will help to keep them a nice color; and if a hand- ful be thrown into the sink every night, directly over the grating and left there until morning, it will tend to dissuade water-bugs from creeping through the waste-pipe, and sweeten the first dash of water turned out of the faucet next day. By the can of borax should stand the bottle of household ammonia. Both are cheap. The com- bined cost of the two would not equal in a year, al- though used daily, what a plumber and his other man would charge for three days’ work—‘‘and time.”’ Clean grease or rust from plain iron or galvanized iron sinks with kerosene and wash with boiling hot soap-suds. THE RANGE Tf the coal or gas range should have rusted during your summering, or you find that the one, in the house or flat you have just taken, is red with oxides, scrub it thoroughly with a strong solution of washing soda, using an old whisk-broom. Then heat and dry 242 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK well. While your stove is still warm, take a clean flannel rag, put some olive oil on it (it takes very little) give the range or stove a good rubbing all over; then dissolve two teaspoonfuls of baking soda in half a cup of water, and with a clean, soft rag apply this to the nickelplate, being careful not to get it on the stove itself. Rub dry with another clean, soft cloth. To the coal range give a good coating of stove blacking moistened with olive oil, then plenty of elbow grease and warm rags. If the nickel parts can be unscrewed, do this before you begin to wash, as they clean more easily when separated from the stove. It is not necessary to repeat very often, if it is done thoroughly once. It keeps your stove from getting rusty. If, during the incumbency of your predecessor, the range or stove has been so culpably misused that it is incrusted with a hard, black substance, unmistak- ably oleaginous, try washing it with suds made of soft water and borax soap, scrubbing with a stiff brush and scraping with a flat stick. When the crust has yielded to this treatment, rub sweet-oil into the surface of the stove, leave it on for twenty-four hours, wipe with a soft cloth and polish as you would any dull stove. HOME-MADE STOVE-POLISHES The number of patented polishes transcends the reckoning of the evicted demon who boasted of his SATURDAY 243 legion. All are warranted to do their work to per- fection, and a few do it fairly well. I append two formule for the manufacture of domestic polishes, neither of which can injure the range. (1) A quart of soot from the chimney or pipe lead- ing from a bituminous coal fire; one teaspoonful of white sugar in a coffee-cup; two tablespoonfuls of boiling water poured on the sugar. Fill the cup with vinegar. Wet the soot gradually with the water, as you would wet flour for drawn butter or other thick- ening. Mix, first with the sugar, which helps to bind the mixture, and when you have a paste, add the vinegar, also gradually, beating smooth as it goes in. There is much in knowing how to put ingredients together. (2) “‘Mix aluminum powder and banana oil. With a paint-brush paint the whole range excepting the top with this mixture. It wears splendidly, does not peel and beats blacking ‘all to pieces.” You must not mix it too thick. Any painter will tell you exactly how. Ten cents’ worth of each is sufficient for a range.”’ Whatever polish you may use, apply it to a cold stove, having previously brushed off the dust, and with a cloth slightly dampened, wiped off the loose dirt. A fine gloss is obtained by adding a teaspoon- ful of alum to the ordinary black lead. To keep stovepipes from rusting when not in use: Clean out the soot, rub them well with sweet-oil and wrap in newspaper until needed. Then the oil may 244 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WHEK be rubbed off and a new coat of blacking may be ap- plied. The papers must be bound in place with stout cotton cords wound around the pipes so closely as to exclude the air. To prevent the choking of stovepipes with soot: Get from a stove-maker a quantity of zine shavings, or pieces of zine too small to be useful in his trade. ‘Burn a handful in the range when the fire is hottest. Smoky chimneys are often cured by this simple ex- pedient. ‘When the chimney takes fire throw on a handful of sulphur, or, lacking that, several handfuls of salt. TO CLEAN ZINC It is so much the fashion now to cover the tops of kitchen tables with zine that the owner, or care-taker of them should know how to clean and to polish them. Scrub the zine with hot soap-suds until you have a clean, dull surface. Make a paste of sifted coal ashes and kerosene; cover the zine with it; let it dry and polish with old flannel. A neater method is to dip a piece of flannel in par- affin and with it rub the zine well, which should then be washed with hot water and soap to remove the smell of the oil, and polished with a dry cloth. A KITCHEN ASH-SIFTER ‘A piece of rather fine wire netting cut to fit the ash tray under a range will save all sifting of cinders, as the fine dust alone will drop through it. The net- a SATURDAY, 245 ting should be cut slightly larger than the tray, so that an edge can be turned up all round it to keep it in place. FLAT-IRONS Irons that have been put away sticky should be well scraped with a thin knife, then rubbed with a rough cloth, moistened in kerosene. Keep the irons in a dry place when they are in use weekly. If you shut up the house for a month or more, grease them well before putting them away. GREASY PANS AND KETTLES Pour a few drops of ammonia into every greasy roasting pan or greasy cooking dish after half filling with warm water. A bottle of ammonia should al- ways be kept near the sink for such uses. Never allow the pans to stand and dry, for it doubles the labor of washing, but pour in water and use ammonia, and the work is half done. GRANITE WARE A correspondent, to whom I am glad to render acknowledgment, thus enlightens us on the subject of stained and blackened granite ware: ‘“By a happy chance I learned that Javelle water (directions for making on every can of chloride of lime) cleans granite ware perfectly and entirely without effort by simply putting it into the stained dish and letting it stay until the work is done. The Javelle water may be used over and over again, as 246 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK long as the strength lasts. It should be kept tightly covered in a glass or earthenware vessel when not in use, and will last longer if kept covered so far as pos- sible when used in cleaning pans, ete. I know whereof I speak, for this cleaned off a sixteenth of an inch solid crust of burnt jam (when all scrapings, scourings, ete., had utterly failed) leaving the dish as clean as when new. ‘The only drawback is that it takes off the gloss; but since the stains go with it, it can be excused. TO CLEAN COPPER UTENSILS A kettle so badly corroded that it is blackish green within and without, may be redeemed without much trouble by this means: Heat a pint of vinegar mixed with a large handful of salt to a boil in the kettle. With a flannel rag scour the kettle inside and out with the vinegar while liquor and kettle are hot. It will remove verdigris and burnish the kettle. This done, scald the vessel with soda and water. ~ To clean one that is not so given over to the deadly verdigris—one of the surest poisons known in house- wifery science—rub it with a cut lemon dipped in powdered bath-brick. When all stains are removed wash it in warm, soapy water; then dry and polish it with powdered bath-brick and a soft cloth. Pow- dered bath-brick, mixed to a paste with oil, may be used instead of the lemon. SATURDAY: 247 TREATMENT FOR TINS AND IRONWARE Rub the new iron kettle first with lard, heat it until it smokes, and wash in hot soap-suds. It is sometimes necessary to make a second treatment. New tinware treated in the same way will last much longer, as it prevents rust. However, tinware should not be heated quite as hot as iron. An iron kettle that discolors potatoes, etc., which are cooked in it may be set right thus: Boil potato peelings in the iron kettle, slowly, for a few hours—five or six hours will do—then clean perfectly and grease it thoroughly. The potato peelings will come out quite black, but they will gather unto themselves and bear away with them the noxious elements that caused the trouble. To remove rust from a kettle: Put into it as much hay as it will hold; fill it with water and boil it many hours; if the kettle is not entirely fit for use repeat the process. Scale or crust can be prevented in a tea-kettle by keeping an egg shell or an oyster shell in the kettle. PEWTER AND BRITANNIA Some of us have heirlooms of these materials. Unless taken care of regularly they change to a dull lead color with bilious shadings—an unlovely sight. Coat with paste of powdered rottenstone and oil, leav- ing it on for some hours. Rub it off with soft flannel 248 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK and polish with whiting and household ammonia, finally with chamois skin. TINWARE It will never rust if it be always wiped perfectly dry before it is set away after it is washed. The moisture left in the seams and on the sides causes it to rust. Wash in hot suds, rinse in hot water and wipe well. If you would ‘‘shine it up”’ a bit—com- mon soda applied with a moistened newspaper and rubbed with a dry piece will make it look like new. To mend leaky tinware: Sprinkle a pinch of fine resin around the hole, on which lay a lump of solder the size of a bean; hold it over a lighted lamp for half a minute and the solder will melt and spread. Set near the fire, or in the sun, for a few minutes; then plunge into cold water to insure hardness. New tins should be filled with cold water, set on the range and boiled there for some hours. Then let the water get cold in the saucepan. This will remove the ‘‘tinny’’ taste for all time. USEFUL ODDS AND ENDS OF KITCHEN LORE A cement which will resist the action of hot or cold water, and which is useful for mending earthenware and stone jars, stopping cracks and holes in iron and tin kettles and pans, is made by mixing litharge and glycerin to the consistency of thick cream or putty. The article mended must not be used until the cement has had time to dry. Leave in the sunny SATURDAY 249 window of a dry room for at least a week before you put anything into it. Never fill a lamp quite full, or when it is brought into a warm room the expansion of the oil will cause it to overflow. On the other hand, a kerosene lamp that is burned night after night, and never filled more than half- way to the top, sometimes becomes charged with gas generated by the flame, and explodes. Ivory knife-handles which have become yellow from misuse may be whitened by rubbing them gently with fine sandpaper and then polishing with a clean piece of chamois skin. Should this fail to restore the color, wash with peroxide of hydrogen and lay in the sun for some hours. Ivory should never he laid or dipped in hot water. Wash ivory-handled knives in a pitcher, im- mersing the blades and wiping off the handles. Wooden bread-boards should be scrubbed with sand or salt instead of soap, in order to be kept in good condition. Sun, or set them before the fire until they are entirely dry. A musty kneading-board will impart a taste to the dough that is not agreeable to the educated senses. Iron saucepans should be kept clean on the outside as well as inside. To prevent the smoke from stick- ing, rub the outside of a new saucepan with fat be- fore placing it on the stove. Wash with hot water and soda. Tin and granite iron tea-pots if unused for some 250 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK time, will give an odd flavor to the tea when next used. This may be prevented by placing a lump of sugar in the tea-pot before putting it away. The ‘‘odd flavor’? generally arises from the slow evaporation of the moisture clinging to the inside of the pot, and which can not escape from the close ves- sel. Dry it thoroughly and set, open, near the fire before the sugar goes in. Never lay meat directly on the ice. Place it on a dish or wrap it in paper before putting it in the re- frigerator. Use for the purpose ‘‘butcher’s paper.’’ To wrap meat in newspaper is to poison it slightly. Moreover the practise is unclean. The best plan is to lay the raw meat on a clean dish and put a wire cover over it. Wash the bread box out weekly and air it before placing bread in it again. To air it means that it should be really in the outer air, and if possible in the hot sun. Miniature forests of mold flourish apace in staling bread. Do not carry plantations over from one baking to another. If your kitchen has a tiled floor, a little linseed- oil rubbed on the tiles, followed by polishing, brings up the colors wonderfully. If the new refrigerator smell of paint, burn a pan of charcoal in it by day, and at night set pans of cold water on the shelves. The lead and oils will settle in the water. The volatile particles cause the odor. When precipitated into the water, they can not rise againinto the air. If your newly painted floor SATURDAY 251 ‘smell to heaven’’ conquer the nuisance by setting large pails of water in the room overnight. In a couple of days the smell will be gone. Dry salt applied with flannel will clean enameled tubs which have been stained. Wash well afterward. This applies to stationary tubs in the laundry, but the process is as effectual if the porcelain or enamel sink be stained. If, in cleaning the range, some of the polish gets upon the nickel fittings and dries there, flannel wet with ammonia should remove the polish. If not, try vinegar mixed with kerosene. A dish of unslaked lime placed in a damp cupboard will tend to dry it. The lime should be renewed every day or two, as it loses its power. CHAPTER XVIII SATURDAY (Concluded) SILVER, CHINA AND GLASS THE CARE OF SILVER Were I to have the entire charge of my silver, I should have no polishing days and use no plate pow- der or pomades. As it is, I try to impress upon my servants the truth of the old saying that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure—a ton, in fact. But when the standpoint of mistress and maid in household economics is the same, the millennium will have begun. As a young housekeeper, with an in- different waitress, I never allowed her to wash china, glass and silver. I did not have my old fender and andirons then, and if I had owned them, they would have been an empty show, since we had not the luxury of an open wood fire. I did, however, have a pair of old brass—real brass—candlesticks and a gener- ous stock of silver. For this I had, as I have said, no cleaning day. The secret of avoiding this peni- tential period was simple. Every time it was used I washed it in hot water, to which a little ammonia was added, rinsed it in scalding water, wiped it quickly with a soft linen towel, then rubbed it briskly with a piece of soft flannel. Silver, treated faith- 252 SATURDAY 253 fully and regularly after this fashion, needs no plate powder, and will hold its own in weight and form ten times as long as if subjected to the weekly at- trition of gritty powders and corrosive acids. If our grandmothers had known and practised this plan, they would not have bequeathed to us such paper-thin teaspoons and loving-cups and tankards, from which patterns and inscriptions have been effaced by much rubbing. The readers of the ever-pleasant ‘‘Rollo Books’’ may recall his recipe for keeping his desk in order “for ever and ever.’’ It was briefly, never to let it get out of order. My plan for keeping silver clean, without the weekly polish, is after the same sort. Never let it get dull. Make a strong suds of very hot water and silicon, or other good polishing powder, adding a tablespoonful of household ammonia. ‘Wash the silver used at each meal in this, rinse in water as hot as you can bear to touch, and wipe, quickly, each piece as you draw it from the hot water. No draining! A rapid rub while the silver is hot, with old flannel, completes the work. The suds must be strong, the water must be hot— not merely warm—the ammonia must be put in last, and the wiping must be immediate and brisk. The ‘‘drainer’’ should not be so much as named among those who wash their own china and silver, glass and plated ware. Our heirlooms were not worn thin by legitimate use. They were outraged weekly by vinegar, whit- 94 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ing and scrubbings. It is not the daily wearing that makes linen, cotton and flannel old and ragged, but the wash-board and wringer. I have called plate powders ‘‘gritty.”’ Put a pinch of the finest and most velvety of these under the lens of a microscope and you will see that it looks like sand. No silver is proof against it. A cheap and simple way of brightening dull silver is to let it lie all night in lopper milk. A brisk wash next day in hot water is all that is needed after the milk bath. To save labor and at the same time to keep the household silverware bright without constant polish- ing, camphor is valuable. If a lump of it be placed on each shelf of the closet or cabinet where the silver is kept, a thorough cleansing and polishing is seldom necessary. A lump of camphor the size of an egg should be kept in the drawer or chest with the small silver. To prevent tarnish: When your silver is not in regular and daily use, and when you would lay it by . in the plate-chest or safe for weeks or months, there is no reason why you should expect it to tarnish during its seclusion. Have it perfectly clean when you lay it aside. Do not touch it with the naked hand. Perspiration is an unholy combination of salts and acids, and no matter how dry and clean your fingers may seem to you to be, invisible perspiration is always there—and potent! Take up spoons and forks and larger pieces of silver- SATURDAY: 255 ware with a bit of cotton batting, wrap them care- fully in tissue paper and pack in a chest or box. Put a bit of gum camphor in the bottom of the box, close the lid and give yourself no further concern as to tarnish. It will keep bright for six months, or for six years. I know, for I have followed the plan for forty-odd years. In Virginia, even before the war, gentlewomen al- ways washed up the supper and breakfast things with their own hands. Colored servants could not be trusted to do it. And very wise housewives they were. Inthe whole course of my married life I have had but one maid who washed silver and glass in ‘“‘my way.’’ She came to me as green as her native bogs in June, and was trained by myself into one of the best waitresses I ever had, or ever expect to have. The soil was vir- gin and good. She lived with me eight years. Then we went abroad for some years and I lost her. When I told her once that she washed my valuables to my liking, she answered naively: ‘‘You see, mem, I knew no better to begin with, and just did.as I was tached.”’ BRASS Brasses can not be washed three times a day, nor packed down in tissue paper and camphor to keep away the corruption of rust—alias verdigris—but they may, and they should be, dusted every day with a bit of very soft flannel. When you leave home for 206 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK the summer, envelop them in cotton batting, then in tissue paper, tied on tightly to exclude the air. To clean brass nothing is more effective than the old-fashioned plan of rubbing first with a paste made of powdered bath-brick and paraffin, and then with dry powdered bath-brick. A mixture of lemon- juice and powdered chalk used in the same way is also excellent. To clean brass ornaments wash them over with strong ammonia. The fancy parts should be well scrubbed with a brush dipped in the ammonia, Rinse in clear water, wipe dry and polish with wash leather. Any article of brass, with the exception of Benares ware, may be cleaned in the following way: Wash the brass in suds made of equal parts of ammonia and water with soap. This will remove all dirt from the article, leave it free from grease and give it a semi-polish. Then use a good brass polish. If the brass looks hopelessly tarnished any good powder that is used for cleaning silver or brass, if moistened with vinegar and applied vigorously, will remove the tarnish and leave a bright surface. Black and green brass should be well washed in hot soap-suds containing soda, then scoured with paraf- fin and whiting before any brass polish is used. Sweet-oil and powdered rottenstone vigorously ap- plied with a piece of soft flannel will clean brass ornaments. To clean a brass bird-cage: Clean with a bit of SATURDAY 257 flannel wet with kerosene, then rubbed upon the red pomade used for brasses. Leave it on for half an hour and polish with a dry, clean flannel or with chamois skin. Whiting and sweet-oil mixed to a paste and rubbed on with a piece of flannel will brighten it. Wipe with a soft cloth and polish with chamois skin. HOW TO WASH CHINA AND GLASS Step the first: sort the ‘‘things!’’ That is the ge- neric term, borrowed from the vocabulary of the vul- gar. Discard it! Be specific! Bring your glass to the front; behind it, arrange the silver, great and small; next, mass the china, each after its kind. The plates should already be scraped clean of fragments; and cups emptied and rinsed. Have ready two dish- pans, towels galore, a soap-shaker and a long-han- dled mop. Draw over your hands and fasten at the wrist, a pair of gloves two sizes too large for you, from which you have cut the finger-tips. Pour boiling water into each pan, churn the water in that on your left to a foaming suds with the shaker. In this lay the smaller silver, give it a few sweeps with the mop, fish it up, transfer to the other—the rinsing pan. Again, take out one piece at a time, with the mop, and wipe while still so hot that you could not hold it but for the towel protecting the finger-tips. Do all this rapidly, laying each article hot, clean and shining, upon a tray lined with linen cloth to prevent scratching. The 258 #THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK glass comes next. Although the water is no longer boiling, roll each glass dexterously in it lest it crack, dip and swirl over in the rinsing pan, and wipe quickly. Lastly comes the china in due order— plates and dishes last. Of course, if you have had many at table, the supply of water must be renewed, at least in the first pan. Not a trace of grease must appear upon the surface of the water. If an oily rim be left at high-water mark within the pan, profana- tion has been done to artistic rules. For thus is dish- washing brought into the realm of the fine arts. It is thorough, and far more expeditious than the usual sousing, swabbing and ‘‘dreening’’—to say nothing of the polishing which is omitted in eight out of ten kitchens. A gentlewoman may go through the whole exercise of clearing off the table from which four people have dined; washing and wiping the articles used and put- ting them away, without spotting her dinner-gown. Will you be tolerant with yet another scrap of per- sonal experience ? I have lovely associations connected with the ear- lier years of my housewifely life. My John used to read the paper aloud to me while I washed the dinner china and glass. The children went over their les- sons to me while I washed the breakfast equipage. I had a voluminous bib apron which my husband and boys declared to be more becoming than the gown it protected. I pinned up my sleeves, and there were always my gloves to keep my hands white. When i | | y if SATURDAY. 259 there was something of special interest in the evening paper I prolonged operations. Usually, when there were just ourselves and the one child who was old enough to sit up to dinner, I finished the last dish and put away all in the china press in twenty minutes after I laid hold of the first spoon. This when we had a four-course dinner, exclusive of coffee. Bridget-Thekla-Dinah would take one hour to do the same and it would not be done one-tenth as well. Yet she may be exceptionally tidy. It used to hurt me—actually hurt me!—to see how my fragile treas- ures were handled, after we became so well-to-do that I could not afford to take care of them myself. There is a world of difference between drudgery and the practice of a favorite art. That, I take it, is the interpretation of the saying, ‘‘the labor we de- light in physics pain.’’ Have you, dear yoke-fellow, ever visited your kitchen while your faithful B.-T.-D.—perhaps the most satisfactory in most respects of any who have ever governed the lower story—is ‘‘doing up the dishes?’’ She is one of the neatest of all created cooks, in the main. Her domain is a pleasing study in orderliness and judicious arrangement. You are proud of it and of her, and she knows it. But—she plunges, and souses, and jumbles, and swashes her ‘‘things’’ in water in which she can bear her hand comfortably. Swabs them with a dish-rag! Then she ‘‘dreens’’ them! ‘‘Drains’’ does not ex- press the misdemeanor. She says ‘‘dreen’’—and she 260 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK is right. Cups and saucers, plates and dishes—even glass and silver—are drawn leisurely from the cool- ing water, which was ‘‘comfortable’’ when the “‘things’’ went into it, and set up on end, or turned upside down that the water may stream, and stray —and streak! at its own will across the smooth sur- faces. When all are out, she dries them leisurely, and, I will admit, with a clean towel. With two towels! the second, warmed at the range, to polish them. CUT GLASS Cut glass is sensitive to sudden changes of temper- ature. Do not hold the cut glass bowl that has had ice-cream in it under the hot water faucet. Do not take a piece of cut glass from a hot room into a cold one suddenly. Pieces of ice touching the sides of a punch-bowl] will sometimes cause it to crack. A block or piece of ice should be firmly anchored in the cen- ter of the bowl. To temper a cut glass dish before filling it with ice-cream, punch, etc., pour cold water into it, then a piece or two of ice, very small pieces. When the dish has been gradually chilled put the ice- cream into it. When cut-glass oil and vinegar cruets become so discolored inside that shot or fine sand will not cleanse them, fill the bottle with finely chopped po- tato skins. Cork tightly and let the bottle stand for three days, when the skins will ferment. Turn out and rinse. The bottles will be as bright and clean as when new. SATURDAY 261 To clean water bottles mix together half a gill of vinegar and a handful of salt. Shake well and let the mixture stand in them for half an hour. TO CLEAN A GREASY JAR OR AN OIL CRUET Ordinary means do not suffice sometimes to get the oil out of a jar or bottle in which it has been kept a long time. Put a handful of well-sifted wood ashes in the jar, fill it with water and set it in a pot of cold water. Bring the water in the outer vessel to a boil and keep this up for an hour. Since you may not be able to get wood ashes, sub- stitute a tablespoonful of household ammonia for the ashes, fill up with water, screw on the top loosely and boil in the same way. Wash out with strong suds and rinse before setting to air in the sunshine. LAMP CHIMNEYS When you buy the chimneys, put them into a tin pail of cold water, set this in a pot of cold water and place this last upon the range where it will heat very slowly to a gentle boil. Keep this up for an hour— never boiling hard—and let it subside and the water cool gradually. This process ‘‘tempers’’ glass. TO LOOSEN A GLASS STOPPER Let fall a few drops of ammonia into the crack around the stopper. Or tap the stopper sharply, but not too hard with a clothes-pin or piece of wood. Or heat the neck of the bottle slightly with hot water or over the gas. CHAPTER XIX EVERY DAY IN THE WEEK Good and comfortable housekeeping is brought about only by daily attention to many of its details. Eternal vigilance is the price of other things than liberty,—surely it is the price that must be paid for an orderly and well-kept house. A certain round of duties must be accomplished every day of the worid in order to make the work go smoothly, in order to give that air of well-being to the place in which one abides that means rest for the mind as well as com- fort for the body. The giving of this constant, well- modulated, daily attention to the affairs of the house makes heavy demands upon the self-control of the housekeeper. Whether she tends to her own house or directs service, the strain upon the energies is heavy. To get in everything that should be done and yet to retain one’s composure and a mind open to interests outside of ‘‘business,’’ this is the ideal that should animate a householdress—and it is a high one. For even in a household where the daily tasks are performed as they should be, no comfort abides if there is constant fussing and fuming, if the mind of the housekeeper is submerged by her cares instead of floating on top of them. We all know and tremble 262 EVERY DAY IN THE WEEK 263 before the over-anxious air of the over-anxious house- keeper. We know afar the vexed and careful look she bends over meat, chickens and vegetables in the market, determined as she is on screwing out the best value for the least money. We shudder as we re- member the baleful glance she casts upon the dust in the corner forgotten by the heedless maid. The woman of the sort referred to keeps house at the expense of the happiness of her family. She rates housekeeping higher than she rates herself. From this awful mistake, we say with all piety, ‘‘Good Lord deliver us.”’ The multifarious details of the daily work can be managed with cheerfulness and equanimity. We may not have attained that height ourselves but we know it can be done. We all remember some happy, busy, competent aunt or cousin or friend of the fam- ily whose house always shone with the polish of good management and whose family rejoiced no less in the management than in the good temper accompany- ing it. We all have in our minds the memory of some excellent housekeeper who was or will be some- time deserving of that most delicious epitaph found in an old English churchyard,—‘‘She was so pleas- ant.”’ The list of those duties which should be performed daily comes to about the same thing in the estimation of most writers on the subject. The order of their performance is not always the same and can not be laid down as a law because of varying conditions in 264 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK the various households concerned. In some families the breakfast is late and little or no household work can be accomplished before that meal. In others where breakfast is earlier the maid can practically have the lower part of the house in order before the inmates descend to their morning meal. The num- ber of people in a family, sometimes the architecture of the house, make a difference as to which household task may be first disposed of. It is a good plan for each housekeeper to make out an order of work for every day, also for the special tasks of the week, have it type-written and hung in the maid’s room. Though the array of duties may seem to her a little startling at first, she will soon recover from the shock. Such a proceeding saves her confusion and does away with the endless ex- planations from the mistress which follow usually the first month after the installation of a domestic. The following program is one that the author has herself found satisfactory for the every-day care of the house: 1. Care of the Front. This includes sweeping the pavements in front of and about the house, and sweeping or scrubbing or mopping the porch if there be one. 2. Make the fires, air the living-room, dining-room and hall, setting them to rights if necessary. 3. Prepare the breakfast and set the table. 4. Clear the table, wash the dishes and kitchen EVERY DAY IN THE WEEK 265 utensils. Put the kitchen, pantry and ice-box in or- der. 5. Make the beds, put the sleeping-rooms in order, renovate the bath-room, see to the stairs and balus- ters. 6. If there are any dishes to be prepared for luncheon and dinner, prepare them now. 7. Attend to the particular tasks of the day, as, for instance, cleaning silver on Wednesday, general down-stairs cleaning on Saturday, etc. On days when the work is particularly heavy, the mistress of the house should arrange as far as is in her power to lighten the usual labors of the maid. CARE OF THE FRONT In putting this job first the author has given it a place not usually awarded to it. Most writers on household arrangements put off pavements and porches till the middle of the morning. But the truth is that this is just one of the places, though one ‘ghould not be weakly yielding, where John and the boys are to be considered. Most of the niceties of housekeeping John doesn’t know anything about and, if truth must be told, cares less. But he does notice the porch and the walks; and when he starts out to business in the morning and meets Jones or Smith at the gate, he likes to have the place looking tidy, ‘‘ready for inspection”’ as the military phrase goes. So out of deference to John, it pays first to sweep 266 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK the pavements, clean the front steps and the porch if there be one. One of the readily discernible signs of a good house- keeper is the appearance of the front steps. ‘‘By her front steps shall you know her.’’ So said the lady from Philadelphia where surely the front steps are the whitest of any in the world. And it was she vho advised me to use powdered pumice stone in cleaning steps of stone or cement. CARE OF THE DINING-ROOM Whether the floor is earpeted or of polished wood it should be brushed each morning and the room thoroughly dusted. There is no place about the house, except perhaps the kitchen, where absolute cleanliness is so desirable as in the dining-room and no place where such constant and continuous care is demanded. The dining-room table should be daily polished with a soft chamois and if once a week, as the case may be, it is waxed or a drop of oil is rubbed into its bright surface, so much the better, though the oil will do little good if it is not administered with a plentiful supply of ‘‘elbow grease.’’ To keep the dining-room table bright and shining is one of the pretty points of housekeeping. With old southern housekeepers it was almost a passion. To some of us, who remember back before the days of the war, the most characteristically recollected attitude of the old family butler is that in which he stands bent over EVERY DAY IN THE WEEK 267 the mahogany, chamois in hand, bringing out the quality of that lovely wood. DAILY CARE OF THE KITCHEN AND PANTRIES This requires the orderly disposal of the utensils used in cooking, the keeping of table or tables clean, the sinks serubbed and free from grease and the kitchen floor in order. food. When I discourage the use of ‘‘heavy roasts’’ of beef, mutton and pork in summer, I would not shut out from the table the tender, juicy beefsteak (al- ways broiled, and never fried), the toothsome lamb 338 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK or mutton chop, and broiled bacon, thin as writing paper, and just crimped by the fire. Partaken of in moderation, they are good for the service of man. A word as to roasts of beef, mutton and hot pork. Beef is a blood enricher, and with the other meats named is a heat-producer. These meats contain in larger quantity than any other foods carbon, and on this account are valuable for winter use. I need hardly say that the physique most in peril in the heated term is that usually known as the ‘‘full- blooded.”? The tendency of the blood_in plethoric people is to the cerebral vessels, distending them, and thus threatening, in excitement or unwonted ex- ercise, their rupture. Persons with the same phys- ical habit are more liable to fevers. Moreover, the fibers of these meats, especially of pork, are tough and difficult of digestion. The di- gestive system is relaxed by heat and less capable of assimilating heavy foods. As housekeepers we read- ily comprehend this when we recall how difficult it is to mince meat with a dull blade. Digestion is ac- complished by the combined action of the gastric juices and the muscles of the stomach. I wish I could impress upon my readers the abso- lute necessity of thorough mastication of food, thus simplifying the task submitted to the faithful and too often outraged stomach. In winter the whole system is braced—keyed up, if you have it—to its work. In summer—changing the figure—it is below concert pitch. DOMESTIC MATERIA MEDICA 339 In summer also, on account of heat, and of inertia induced thereby, there is a disinclination to the reg- ular and more energetic exercise which one craves in the colder months. The effete matter, which is the residuum of undigested food, remains in the system instead of being thrown off. What are we to say as to hot breads, boiled pud- dings, dumplings and pies? Even under the most favorable conditions of temperature and bodily vigor they are slow and difficult of digestion. When the dog-star is raging, and all the active forces of the body are below par, the imposition of unnecessary labor upon the languid digestive organs is down- right cruelty. Fish is known as cold-blooded; that is, deficient in the ‘‘red corpuscles,’’ which have earned for flesh the term ‘‘hearty foods.’’ Fish also contains whole- some phosphates, which neutralize in some degree the effect of fats. EGGS A correspondent affirms confidently that ‘‘two eggs contain more real nourishment than three pounds of meat. One person would get more nourishment from a piece of meat the size of his hand than he would from three pounds of it. The more meat, the less real good. Of course, one pound of meat does contain more stimulant (temporarily) than two eggs, but the eggs ‘build up’ and store energy, while the meat in a few hours has done its work of temporary stimulation.”’ 340 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK This is an individual opinion. The belief that eggs are wholesome for everybody is a fallacy which dietitians have difficulty in dispelling from the pop- ular mind. At least thirty per cent. of the yolk of an egg is oil, and the quantity of sulphur in the same is variously rated at from fifteen to twenty per cent. The cause of the variation is the difference in the comparative richness of eggs. Duck-eggs and the eggs laid by Guinea fowls are richer in fat and more. heavily charged with sulphur than those of the com- mon barn-yard fowl. The eggs of certain breeds of these last also vary in quality. There is ground for the general idea that a diet of eggs engenders bile in persons who are predisposed to biliousness. It is likewise true, as is usually be- lieved, that soft-boiled eggs are more digestible than hard. The albumen of the white and the fats of the yolk are changed by long cooking into a firm mass, almost as hard for the gastric juices to assimilate as what is known as ‘‘white oak cheese,’’ made of compressed and cooked curds. A raw egg is one of the most digestible of foods. It is not pleasant to taste, or to the imagination. Hence, it is usually beaten into an emulsion with milk, and sometimes, when a stimulant is needed, with wine. Next to the raw egg in wholesomeness, comes the “custard egg.’’ To prepare it, lay it in lukewarm water for a minute to take the chill from the shell. Then put it into boiling water in a saucepan which is actually on the fire. As soon as the egg goes into DOMESTIC MATERIA MEDICA 341 the water, lift the saucepan from the range; envelop it in a thick warmed cloth, or slip a tea-cozy over it and let it stand on the table or at the side of the range where it can not possibly boil, for six or seven minutes. The contents of the shell will be like cus- tard in softness—white and yolk having cooked to equal consistency. This, to my way of thinking, is the most palatable form of the boiled egg, as it is certainly the most digestible. MILK Here again, comes in the question of digestive idio- synecrasy. Some persons, normally healthy, and not finical in tastes, can not drink what has grown into favor rapidly of late years under the title of the “fone perfect food.’’ Milk is said to combine all the elements of nutrition so harmoniously that non-di- gestion of it is impossible. Yet it does disagree— and seriously—with the stomachs of some who would fain drink it regularly and in quantities. It may be useful for such to know that people who are made bilious or otherwise uncomfortable by milk may cor- rect the trouble by adding a teaspoonful of lime- water to each tumblerful. It will not affect the taste of the milk. When milk disagrees with the baby, making him fretful, flatulent and colicky, add the lime-water to his bottle at each feeding. It will also correct the acidity of stomach that tends to produce ‘‘stomach rash.’’ 342 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK DIETARY FOR RHEUMATISM A whilom sufferer hands in his brief testimony: “To those who suffer from rheumatism I would say that it is not necessary to take any remedy: that is, I have not found it so. Meat, coffee and sugar have an excessive quantity of uric acid. The remedy consists in taking less of them. Meat—once a day, or three times a week; coffee once a day, etc. One need not suffer for lack of things to eat. Milk, rice, eggs and well-cooked vegetables present opportuni- ties for sustenance and pleasure unhaunted by the fear of pain to follow. “‘One may find relief by eliminating from the di- etary sugar and milk and cream, together in any form, especially in tea and coffee. Hither may be taken alone, but not at the same meal. A glass of pure water an hour before meal time; two meals a day of good cereal and hot milk, fruit, if wanted; a generous dinner of meat, vegetables, etc., will cure an aggravated and painful case of rheumatic trou- ble, as I can testify.”’ Leave red meats, such as beef, and also dark meat of poultry, out of your dietary. There can be no doubt of the truth that diet in the treatment of rheumatism is three-fourths of the bat- tle. Avoid red meats—beef especially—sweets and starchy foods. Eat acid fruits, spinach, tomatoes and salads freely. Drink a good natural spring sul- pher water and do not touch spirituous liquors, ale DOMESTIC MATERIA MEDICA 343 or wine. Wear red flannel next to the skin the year round—a lighter weight in summer, of course, but do not lay it off at any season. Albeit not a physician, I venture to advise in addi- tion to a judicious dietary, electrical massage, and ‘‘flushing’’ the system with some good natural min- eral water. Drink at least a quart a day of one pre- scribed by your doctor. I speak feelingly, having been restored to health and vigor, years ago, by the regimen I now indicate. The less medicine you take the better. DYSPEPSIA Dyspepsia has a hundred forms. It is the Proteus of mortal maladies. It is not practicable to indicate one-tenth of the phases that make existence a burden to the dyspeptic, or to suggest remedies except in a vague and sketchy style. It is the national disease, and our ‘‘strenuous,’’ breathless life is largely re- sponsible for the plague. We are dyspeptics because we do not sufficiently masticate hard food; we eat too quickly; we drink too quickly, take too much fluid with our meals; do hard brain work while eating. We take meals in snatches while attending to the shop, the children, etc. We partake largely of hot, greasy foods; drink stewed tea charged with tannin; we injure the stom- ach by drinking strong spirits. Tea, which contains much tannin, is peculiarly un- wholesome when taken with fresh meat. It is said not to affect the digestion of salted or smoked meats; 344 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK but that is merely saying that the two last can not be made worse than they are. No delicate stomach should be tortured by either. Salt hardens the fibers and dries up the juices of meats, and smoke adds creosote to hardness and des- iccation. Kiven tender, well-cured hams are rank poison to stomachs from which the coat has been worn by ex- cess of acids or overwork. Were I appealed to by that most wretched of invalids—a confirmed dyspep- tic—for counsel, common-sense, and therefore un- professional, I should say, with the depth of pity that often goes with profound personal ignorance of the pain one is called upon to assuage—Leave off drugs, and study your diet carefully. Avoid fats, fried foods, pastries—hot bread and pies of what- ever kind; eat plain puddings, custards, ete., in the way of sweets, and let candies alone. Hat slowly, and not heartily, but take nourishing meals at regu- lar hours. Live as much as possible in the open air. In the summer go into the house only to eat and sleep. Take regular but gentle exercise, like walking, in the open air. Have frequent massage and plenty of sleep. Bathe daily in water to which sea salt has been added, following this with a brisk rubbing down with a crash towel. If apples and oranges agree with you, take them freely and often. Peaches, too, in season, will be excellent for you. Avoid the skins of all fruits. T have had the unhappiness of knowing many dys- DOMESTIC MATERIA MEDICA = 345 peptics, some of whom were as savage as wild beasts under the affliction, and some who were thereby chastened into saints. I have yet to see one who was cured, or even temporarily helped by medicines. If I had subjoined to the above list of recommen- dations a line from an old hymn— ‘And keep a quiet mind,’’— I should have struck a straight blow at what is the root of the evil in scores of cases. Eating fast in- vites dyspepsia, under any circumstances. When the food is bolted between snatches of excited conversa- tion upon painful or unpleasant subjects, or, worse yet, in gloomy silence, filled with somber thoughts and forebodings that change wholesome victuals to hot ashes in the stomach—diaphragm and gastric juices must suffer, although warranted to wear well and long. SOME SERVICEABLE SIMPLES The virtues of dried mullein leaves, smoked in a clay pipe, as tobacco is used, have long been known to the gatherers and venders of simples. They soothe an inflamed throat and relieve to some extent asth- matic breathing. It may be used in similar affections—such as bron- chial colds and coughs, steeped strongly, and sweet- ened with white sugar, and drank freely. Young or old plants are good dried in the shade and kept in clean bags. The medicine must be continued from 346 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK three to six months, according to the nature of the disease. It is very good for the blood vessels also. It strengthens and builds up the system, instead of taking strength. It makes good blood, and takes inflammation away from the lungs. A contributor sends in a simple prescription to the efficacy of which I can bear cheerful testimony: “‘One of the most efficient remedies for breaking up a cold during its earliest stage is camphor. When the eyes begin to water and there is the accompany- ing tingling of the nose and feeling of chilliness, place three drops of camphor on a lump of loaf sugar and place the sugar in the mouth. Repeat this dose every fifteen minutes until four or five doses have been taken. At the same time place the feet where they will become thoroughly warm. This will usu- ally prove effectual in breaking up a cold, if it is taken atits very beginning. Fora child but one drop should be placed upon the sugar, and five or six doses administered. Another method of taking the cam- phor, which is sometimes preferred for grown peo- ple, is to‘put a spoonful of sugar into a cup, add hot water, and from ten to fifteen drops of camphor. This makes what it is called a camphor julep. Camphor may be inhaled with excellent effect in the incipient stages of a cold in the head. Saturate a handkerchief and hold it to the nose, breathing through it for two minutes at a time. Repeat hourly all day. Nausea may be lessened and often cured by laying DOMESTIC MATERIA MEDICA 347 cloths steeped in spirits of camphor upon the pit of the stomach, renewing as they dry. Garden mint is a well-known remedy for disor- dered bowels, especially in children. Bruise sprays of mint slightly, put into a cup and pour boiling water over them. Leave until cold; strain without Squeezing, and set on ice until needed. Virginia snake-root: The curative properties of the wild shrub have long been acknowledged by phy- sicians and housemotherly nurses. A decoction made by pouring boiling water upon the dried and shredded roots, allowing it to stand for an hour, then straining and sweetening abundantly is an excellent cough medicine. In a late issue of a medical journal we find mention of other and notable values. “As a nerve stimulant it acts promptly, and is much used in depressed or exhausted conditions of the nervous system, especially in typhoid, typhus, marsh and puerperal fevers. It is applicable in the latter stages of diphtheria, smallpox, scarlet fever and pneumonia. It supports the vital forces and rids the system of offending matter by producing perspiration and a determination of blood to the sur- face. A cold infusion is often employed with good effect in dyspepsia, croup, throat and kidney com- plaints. A cold infusion is used for strengthening purposes and it may be drunk freely. Dose of the tincture is from half to a full teaspoonful three times a day.”’ Vegetable tonic and cough medicine: Wormwood, 348 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK licorice, black cherry bark, horehound,—equal parts of each. To these add two quarts of cold water; let it simmer all day; strain well and add a pound of loaf sugar and a pint of best rum. Bottle and take a wineglassful after each meal. Dandelion blooms: Puta handful of the blossoms into a pitcher, pour a pint of boiling water upon them, and steep, covered, for two hours. Strain off the tea, sweeten and drink ice-cold. It is good for disorders of the liver, as betrayed by headache and ‘‘spring fever.’’ It may be taken hot for headache and nausea. Olive oil is highly approved by ‘‘the profession”’ as nourishing, easily digested and assuasive. It is a very gentle aperient, and a flesh-builder, working wonders with anemic and emaciated children. It is said to be a nerve-food for their elders. The oil is taken in doses of a teaspoonful at first, three times a day. As the stomach becomes accus- tomed to it, increase the quantity to one tablespoon- ful taken three times a day. Disguise the taste with orange juice, or mix it with a few drops of pepper- mint. Perhaps the oil may not be unpleasant to you taken pure. Some learn to like it. Get the best quality. Parsley root: Scraped, steeped in boiling water, left to cool, strained, and sweetened slightly if de- sired—is given with signal success to relieve stran- gury, partial or total. Watermelon and pumpkin seeds are an approved DOMESTIC MATERIA MEDICA — 349 remedy for like affections, especially with children. The seeds are steeped in boiling water and drunk as a tea. Sage leaves made into a tea, and sweetened abun- dantly with honey are a good gargle for a sore throat. If, to the decoction be added a little alum while the mixture is hot enough to dissolve the alum, the effi- cacy of the gargle is increased. Strawberry leaves: A decoction of strawberry leaves allowed to stand until cold, then strained, is healing to a sore mouth, be the cause a foul stomach, or what in babies is called ‘‘thrash.’’ Plantain leaves: A poultice of green plantain leaves, scalded, and macerated into a pulp, is good for a felon or other sores arising from distempers of the blood. Flaxseed ground into meal, or used whole, may be wrought into one of the most useful poultices known to doctors and nurses in cases of inflammation of the throat or lungs. The flaxseed must be mixed with boiling water and renewed as it begins to cool. Cold tea is a cooling and healing eye-wash. Black coffee drunk hot and strong, often relieves nausea. It is an invaluable antidote to opium poi- son. Mustard: A standard antidote to arsenic, bella- donna and opium, indeed, to any poison that is not corrosive, is a mixture of ground mustard and water. It should be drunk freely, and until it acts as an emetic. 350 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK Raw eggs are likewise convenient and effective an- tidotes to certam active poisons, notably, corrosive sublimate. The victim should swallow them in rapid succession until vomiting is induced. They coat the inflamed alimentary canal with mucus that checks the action of the corrosive agent. Salt and water: A saturated solution of table salt is a quick emetic. It is well for the housemother to acquaint herself with the resources of her store-room to meet emergencies that befall the best kept homes. She will be amazed at the number of ‘‘ First Aids’’ at her command. Olive owl, if swallowed immediately after the mouth, the throat and the stomach have been excori- ated by ammonia or cyanide of potassium, taken by mistake, will hold the evil in check until medical aid is procured. Sweet milk and lime-water is soothing to a burned mouth and throat after an incautious drink of a scalding fluid. Green figs are excellent for an obstinate boil. They are cut open and the pulp mixed in a basin. The poultice is warmed and spread upon linen, which is applied to the boil, and left in position for several hours. It ‘‘draws’’ the boil to a head. Stale bread and sweet milk: Moisten the crumbs into a soft paste with the milk, and stir until warm in a cup set in boiling water. A favorite and most useful poultice for boils and other ‘‘risings’’ which must come to a ‘‘head’’ before they can be relieved. CHAPTER XXV. DOMESTIC SURGERY AND COGNATE MATTERS Burns and scalds are, perhaps, the most common, as they are the most terrifying, of household casual- ties. In every kitchen, nursery and bath-room, should be kept labeled remedies for the disaster which always comes suddenly and is never expected, in spite of the frequency of previous mishaps of the same kind. Linseed-otl and lime-water form one of the best applications to a burned or scalded surface that cura- tive science has yet devised. Mix in a bottle two parts of oil with one part of lime-water, and shake well before using. The mixture should be kept in a cool place and corked closely. It will remain sweet for months. Castor-oil: An emulsion of castor-oil and water —three parts of oil and one of water—is also safe and soothing. I have known the oil to be applied to a fresh burn, with no admixture, in the surprise of the alarm, with satisfactory results. This is a mother’s story of the experiment: ‘‘My baby had the hives, and obeying your pre- 351 302 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK scription, I was rubbing the eruption with castor-oil when a coal popped out from the wood fire by which we sat, directly upon the naked baby. It fell full into the crease between the abdomen and hips—thus making a double burn. Instinctively I snatched the bottle at my elbow, and poured some on the blister. The little fellow was in agony. So was I! The ef- fect was magical. In the words of the old poem we read together when you and I were young— ‘‘The babe looked up and sweetly smiled.’’ Henceforward castor-oil has had an honorable place in our list of ‘Emergency Aids.’ ”’ Baking soda: From another housemother we have a tale of soda as a ready helper: ‘‘One day after filling a quart jar with grape jelly, the jar broke, spilling the entire contents on my left arm, from wrist to elbow. The jar had been heated thoroughly with hot water first. I at once ran to the pump and let the water wash the jelly off; then I covered the entire burn with baking soda, wetting the bandage after putting it on. The pain was dreadful; the neighbors thought my arm would be ruined. In- stead of that it never even blistered, but healed in a short time without the least scar. “‘Sometimes for children’s burns I mix the soda with enough lard to form a salve, as it is easier to apply when they can not keep still from pain, but I find just cold water and soda best.”’ T have seen my cooks coat scalds with dry baking- DOMESTIC SURGERY: 353 “ soda, and obtain relief from the smart in an amaz- ingly short time. Dry flour: If the burns be covered thickly and immediately with dry flour, there is a partial and grateful cessation of the pain. The philosophical principle explaining this is, of course, that the air is excluded from the raw cuticle, and that the contact of the air is, in itself, poison. Wood soot and lard is an old-fashioned remedy for a burn, but one that is singularly efficacious. Soot and lard are beaten to a paste and spread on a cloth. Strange to say, they do not leave a black spot as the skin heals. Before quitting the subject of burns, I will give formulas for rendering clothing and curtains fire- proof, for both of which I am indebted to a friendly and an accomplished chemist. (1) ‘‘The following process has been used by a French chemist: Saturate the textiles in a solution composed of chloride of ammonium, 8 parts; sodium hyposulphate, 2.25 parts; sulphate of ammonium, 10 parts; borax, 4.5 parts; water, 75.25 parts. Hang up to dry without wringing. (2) ‘Still another formula for fireproof cloth or any garment or wearing apparel is as follows: Dis- solve by gentle heat forty parts of boric acid, thirty parts aluminum sulphate, seventeen parts gum trag- acanth, nine parts potassium silicate, in 450 parts of water. Then make another solution of the fol- lowing constitution: Thirty parts of sodium nitrate, 354 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK seven parts of ammonium borate, seventeen parts of ammonium phosphate, 400 parts of water. Mix - both solutions and permit the mixture to subside and settle. Decant the clear solution, saturate the tex- tiles with it and hang them up to dry without wring- ing.”’ f FROST BITES If frost bites are taken in hand as soon as the in- jury is received, much unnecessary pain will be saved in the future. To a pint of kerosene or coal oil add a pound of gum camphor which has been broken into small bits. Shake this until dissolved and then add half a pint of sweet oil. Saturate a soft rag with the mixture and wrap the injured parts with it. Con- tinue this treatment for three days. Burns also may be treated in this way. SNAKE — AND OTHER POISONOUS BITES Every mother should know that the first and best thing to. be done in the case of a bite from dog or cat or snake is to stop the circulation of the blood back- ward from the wound by a tight bandage and to plunge the injured part into warm water. Wash the wound out freely under the water faucet in the kitchen sink, or change the water as you cleanse the hurt, to get rid of the virus. If no water is at hand suck out the poison. Unless there be an abrasion on the lips or mouth it will do no harm. Many a life has been saved by this summary and homely means. DOMESTIC SURGERY 355 Then apply table salt to the bite, rubbing in all it will hold. Should the salt turn green after a few minutes exchange for fresh and continue to do this, washing the wound out with warm water, dashed with carbolic acid, after each application, until the greenish tint passes away. In the ‘‘rattlesnake region” of Virginia and West Virginia, the specific for a snake-bite is whisky. The bitten person is given glass after glass of ‘‘moun- tain dew’’ until he becomes intoxicated. I suppose the explanation of the almost invariable success of the expedient to be that one poison expels the other. Certain it is that the sufferer awakes from his drunken sleep well, and has no more trouble from the wound. I have known too many cases of this sort which were cured by this homely and heroic treatment to doubt the wisdom of resorting to the whisky bottle if child or adult be bitten by a snake. A bottle of the best whisky I can buy is an invari- able feature in our country outfit. A CRUSHED FINGER OR TOE Should be plunged into water as hot as can possibly be borne. The application of hot water causes the nail to expand and soften and the blood pouring out beneath it has more room to flow; thus the pain is lessened. The finger should then be wrapped in a bread-and-water poultice. A jammed finger should never be neglected, as it may lead to blood-poison. 306 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK A SPRAIN Get a pound of dried wormwood from the druggist and steep a handful of it in a pint of scalding vine- gar, keeping it hot by setting the vessel containing it in boiling water. Dip linen cloths in it and wrap the sprained member in them. Change the band- ages for hotter as they cool. When the vinegar runs low make a fresh supply of the wormwood decoction. Keep this up until pain and heat have abated. Then bind the ankle or wrist with strips of adhesive plas- ter to keep the injured ligaments in place until they knit firmly. Having had a desperately bad sprain treated as I have directed, and recovered the use of the joint and muscles within a couple of weeks, it is a pleasant duty to ‘‘pass on’’ the good news. A correspondent vouches for this simpler remedy for a sprain: ‘“‘For a sprain beat together the white of one egg and a tablespoonful of table salt until you have a poultice. Apply to the sprained member—right on’ the bare skin—change three times a day, and it will cure the worst sprained wrist or ankle in ten days, and no doctor’s bill to pay. I have done it.’’ WHEN A PIN IS SWALLOWED For the fortieth—I am not sure it is not the fiftieth time—the coadjutor whom TI long ago dubbed grate- fully, “‘Our Courteous Consulting Chemist,’’ is ready DOMESTIC SURGERY 307 with an anecdote that is characteristically humorous and helpful: **T have a little friend with a fondness for a diet of nails and pins. Six times now the frantic mamma has rushed into my den and six times I have gently advised her to-‘‘stuff’’ the little kid with an exclusive diet of mashed potatoes, and no liquid whatever for about forty-eight hours. Then use plenty of nice castor-oil—no other laxative will do. The idea is to surround the sharp object with a soft, innocuous mass, solidly, until the object has been pushed through the lower intestines. The doctors always ap- proved afterward of this. I mention the matter here for the information of mothers on farms, ranches, etc., not in quick touch with the usual professional wisdom. ‘‘Feed the kid in such a case excessive doses of mashed potato, or sweet potato and nothing else.”’ The most ignorant of us who read the daily pa- pers is familiar with the word ‘‘encysted’’ from fre- quent repetition of it in stories of gunshot wounds. The mother should think of it as the one thing to be desired when a child has swallowed any hard sub- stance beyond the reach of her ready finger. If he can not bring it up, make it comparatively harmless where it is. If mashed potato is not ready to hand, make the child eat all the bread he can be induced to swallow. Corn bread is better for the purpose than wheat, and brown bread better than white, because more viscous, 358 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK FOR A CHOKED CHILD Slap him smartly between the shoulders, and if the concussion does not bring up the obstruction, pick him up incontinently by the heels, and holding him in the air, head downward, shake him hard. If this does not relieve him, nothing but a surgical operation will. SUNBURN Wring cloths out of water as hot as you can bear your hand in and hold them to your face, keeping up the applications—and keeping the water hot— until the fire seems drawn out of your face. Do the same to your arms and legs if you have exposed them too long to the hot sun while bathing. Sun- burn, contracted at the seashore is especially dis- tressing when bathers have yielded to the tempta- tion to frolic in the shallows in bathing costume. The skin is softened by the water, and the burn takes the form of a scald. After applying the hot water, powder the skin thickly with a bland talcum and leave it on for some hours. EARACHE Never be persuaded to put anything, not even warm water, into the ear except by direction of a physician. (1) The best way to relieve earache is to heat an iron or a brick, wrap it in two or three thicknesses of flannel and pour warm water and laudanum on DOMESTIC SURGERY: 359 the top, when steam will at once rise. If the ear is placed: close to the flannel, the steam will permeate every part of it. _ Mix a teaspoonful of laudanum in a cupful of water. ‘Be careful not to take cold while the ear is warm from the steam. Bind a strip of warmed flan- nel over it until the flesh has regained normal tem- perature. THE EYES The ancient saw—already and repeatedly quoted —of the ounce of prevention, was never more pat than in this connection. We abuse our eyes in so many ways and with such stupid perversity that it is a miracle of Providence and mercy we are not a purblind nation. Oculists who value human happi- ness more than the repletion of their own pockets, warn us that electric lights, now illuminating thou- sands of homes, are pernicious to the eyesight unless steadied by lamplight or by gas burners. The loop of electric light is a series of flashes—electric sparks —as unsteady as brilliant. To study or write ha- bitually by this alone will, in time, injure the strong- est eyes ever set in human skull. Tempered and steadied by the more stable flame of a lamp or the even glow of gas, it does comparatively little harm. The eyes should never be used when they are tired or weak from illness, nor should they be exposed to intense light at any time. The light should always fall on the work or book over the left shoulder. An ingenious writer upon correlation of forces tells 360 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK us that to read, or write, or to employ the eyes in other ways requiring close application, when one is fasting, is a strain upon nervous energy equivalent to lifting a weight of thirty pounds. Whether his computation be correct or erroneous, it is certain that the prudent student will not work fasting. If you read or write before breaking your all-night fast you will, in time, rue it. Eat enough to keep the blood away from the brain, leaving it free to do its proper work. Whenever the eyes ache from strain of whatever kind, bathe them frequently and freely in water as hot as may be comfortably borne. If they smart and are bloodshot, add a pinch of boric powder to a glass of hot water and bathe them several times daily with the wash, abundantly upon mene in the morning and retiring at night. If you wear glasses do not let them press upon the eyes. They will, eventually, flatten the cornea, heightening the defect you seek to lessen. Dotted veils have a bad effect on the strongest eyes. A good wash for eyes when inflamed from cold or loss of sleep is one ounce of distilled witch-hazel and one ounce of pure water. For inflamed eyelids soak a handful of camomile flowers in one pint of boiling water for five minutes. Strain and use as a wash, when tepid. Dry on a soft towel and touch the lids with an ointment made of one part of oil of birch and nine parts of white vase- line. DOMESTIC SURGERY. 361 Fresh parsley, boiled, will often cure inflammation of the eyes, if they are bathed with it. If the inflam- mation be very bad, make a poultice of the pulp at night and renew until the eyes are cured. THE FEET Cold feet, as a rule, are due to bad circulation, but very often are caused by the footwear. Socks, if not changed frequently and kept clean, are a cause of coldness. Woolen socks, cork soles inside the boots, and thick, substantial soled boots will do away, in many cases, with the trouble. Bunions: Ihave known the following simple regi- men to relieve cases of long standing: Soak the foot night and morning in warm water. Wipe dry and rub vaseline into the bunion, leaving it to dry on the foot. Then fit a bunion plaster—a thin one—about the inflamed part, binding into place with a strip of adhesive plaster. Adjust the bunion plaster so that the shoe will not press upon the foot. The pressure is the cause of the evil. Persevere in the treatment. Corns: Treat precisely as you would bunions. The same cause produces both. Our superiors in civilization for many centuries—the Japanese—have taught us the use and the safety of the corn file. A’ corn or a bunion should never be cut with a knife or other sharp instrument. Deaths have been caused by such imprudence. A good poultice for corns is one teaspoonful of tar, one teaspoonful of coarse brown sugar and one tea- 362 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK spoonful of saltpetre. The whole to be warmed to- gether. Spread it on bits of kid the size of the corn. Callosities on the feet: A physician sends me the following: “Take glacial acetic acid at fifty degrees (not or- dinary acetic acid) and dilute in the proportion of three to four parts of acid to one of water. Apply the mixture with a small sponge fastened on the end of a stick, nightly, until the callous peels off. As a skin renovator this mixture is unexcelled. It will remove a calloused area around the finger nails if the sponge be handled with the fingers. The fingers may feel sore for a day or two, but no harm is done and the sense of touch is improved.’’ A laywoman offers a simpler regimen: “Tf sufferers from callous spots would rub a few drops of castor oil on them twice a day for a few days, I think they would be delighted with the result. Continued use of the oil will in time effect a complete cure. My own feet were extremely painful. The oil was the last remedy I tried, and the only one that did me any good. It is a little slow but sure.”’ Tired, aching and sore feet: If the feet are tired and painful with long standing they will feel much rested if bathed in salt water, and if after washing salt is rubbed over them it will close the pores and keep the skin soft. The addition of a teaspoonful of alum dissolved in a little hot water to the salt bath will help the cure. DOMESTIC SURGERY 363 Or—better still—mix twenty drops of carbolic acid with four ounces of alcohol; pour a little in the palm of the hand and rub the soles of the feet with it night and morning. Alcohol alone will often bring surcease of pain. An ingrowing nail: A quartet of grateful women declare that this is a ‘‘sure thing.’’ For ingrowing nails—remove the shoe and stock- ing; put a piece of paper under the foot; heat a _ spoonful of tallow and pour it in and around the nail once or twice a day, until relief comes, which will be in a few days. If you haven’t mutton tallow, lard will do, or any kind of fat and just as hot as it can be borne. There are two reasons for trying this cure—first, because it is simple, and second, because itisasurecure. The paper under the foot is simply to keep the grease from the floor. One of the four adds—‘‘It seems to kill the pain and tenderness at once, and in a few days the granu- lations all go, leaving the nail in a position to be easily pared away. One application helped mine to such an extent that I no longer live in dread of hav- ing a heel firmly planted upon them in a crowded car.”’ Scrape the nail very thin, and make in the center —just over the ball of the toe—a V-shaped incision. The nail, in closing this up, will draw away from the sides of the toe, as it grows, and pull itself into bounds. 364 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK CHILBLAINS (1) For chilblains use one teaspoonful of alum to a little water and bathe the chilblains in that. It gives instant relief when the terrible itching and in- flammation set in. (2) For unbroken chilblains rubbing with damp salt is one of the best remedies known. (3) Raw onion rubbed on an annoying chilblain is very soothing. Of my own self I can say nothing, I never had a chilblain, or saw one to my knowledge. Those who have had, and cured them, lay these remedies to my hand. POISONS OF THE SKIN Of the much-dreaded eczema—otherwise ‘‘the itch’’—an intelligent woman writes: (1) ‘‘EKezema is so common and so hard to treat that many may be helped by my letter. The remedy is an ointment, the most important ingredient of which is the rankest weed that grows, commonly called ‘jimson,’ a perversion of ‘Jamestown weed,’ and can be found from now until frost comes. This grows in lots where manure has been thrown, is called poisonous, and no animal will ever eat it. ‘‘Formula:—Buy at the drug store one pound of pure beeswax, which costs forty-five cents, and a piece of resin about the size of a hickory-nut. At the market get two pounds of mutton tallow and try it out; then go after the weed, Cut the whole plant DOMESTIC SURGERY 365 near the ground and get as many as one can carry under an arm, or, say, a dozen stalks. Put the boiler on the range and clip off all the bunches of leaves, discarding only the heavy stalks. Pour over the leaves a quart and a half (no more) of cold water, cover, and let all boil for thirty minutes. Strain through a colander into a large stew-pan. Strain the liquid, of which there should be about a quart, through a cheese-cloth to take out all sand, ete. Put back into the stew-pan with the tallow and beeswax cut into small pieces, and the little piece of resin. Let all boil for twenty minutes, then pour into a small bowl and cool. “The ointment will be on top and will look like yellow soap. Lift it out of the dish and throw away the liquid remaining. Cut into pieces and put away. The relief will be immediate and a cure in two or three weeks. If the ointment seems too hard it will soften from the warmth of the band. ““T have made it and it has done more than I hoped it would. I trust others may find the same relief. It is good for cuts, burns, bruises and aching feet, say the good people who told me how to make it.”’ “‘Away Down South in Dixie” the curative prop- erties of ‘‘jimson’’ (Jamestown) ointment have been well known since it was named by the earliest settlers from the marshy peninsula on which it grew in the days of John Smith and Pocahontas. It was a fa- vorite remedy with the Indians. (2) An unpleasant itching of the ears is usually .366 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK caused by eczema. Those who are subject to this ailment should eat quantities of fruit, watercress, dandelion, lettuce, etc. For a local application’ a weak dilution of carbolic acid is healing and agree- able, or listerine diluted one-half with water will allay the fearful irritation of eczema. It is always best of course, to consult a specialist, since the trouble may be a serious one that in time will affect the hear- ing. (3) Bathe the parts well with warm water, in which has been dissolved a little boracic acid: dry thoroughly with a soft towel. Do not irritate the skin by hard rubbing. Then apply listerine, At night use wintergreen oil; if possible bind up the parts with a cloth saturated with the oil. In the morning this may be washed off, as de- scribed above. If soap be necessary use the purest Castile after which powder well with borated taleum powder. If the disease is deep-seated, repeat the process more frequently. Perfect cleanliness is the best remedy for any skin disease. If this does not prove effectual, consult a physician at once, for ec- ° zema is a very stubborn disease if not treated in the early stages. Poison-wy: ‘The first effect of poison-ivy is to raise watery blisters on that portion of the body which has been poisoned. In the course of a few days these blisters dry up or sink in and the painful, itching eruption commonly dreaded follows. If upon the appearance of the above-mentioned watery blis- DOMESTIC SURGERY 367 ters the victim will at once apply a strong solution of any alkali, by rubbing vigorously into the affected parts, they will immediately disappear and no further consequences may be dreaded. This remedy is not efficacious if the poison is not arrested while in its first stages of watery blisters. “The commonest form of alkali that I know of would be ordinary cooking soda dissolved in either cold or warm water. This remedy is well known to most frontiersmen and those whose lives are such as to expose them frequently to poison-oak.”’ This is one of a dozen suggested remedies spread out upon my desk. I choose what seems to me the most judicious. Alkalis, notably soda, are specifics in the management of wasp, bee and hornet stings, and the more frequent and less dangerous bite of the mosquito. It is probable that it might heal mild eruptions caused by poison-ivy, alias mercury, alias poison-oak, alias ‘‘three finger.’’ We all know it by sight, by whatsoever name it may go in any particu- lar region. A serviceable simple overlooked in our enumera- tion of the items composing the Domestic Materia Medica comes to light in our next prescription: “‘The bark of sassafras root steeped in water to a strong tea and used as a wash in case of ivy poison- ing is considered in our family as the remedy. It allays the irritation and itching of the skin. It is good to take a swallow of the tea at the same time, as sassafras is a blood renovator.”’ 368 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ‘As a blood renovator it held high rank in the es- teem of our forebears. Sassafras tea was drunk by the quart as a spring medicine, and recommended as a sudorific for breaking up a cold. Here is a warranted remedy for ivy poisoning: One-half ounce of pure crude opium. Dissolve this in water until the water looks like strong coffee. Thoroughly wet the poisoned parts with this liquor once an hour for six hours and once in two or three hours for the next eighteen hours. This applies to poison sumac, ivy and oak. Thirty years ago the ‘‘capable’’ mistress of a New Jersey farmstead told me of a domestic treatment of the distressing eruption which I have tried with complete success in my own family several times. It has the merit of being easy, cheap and harmless. Bathe the affected parts often during the day and bind up at night with sour buttermilk or lopper milk, into which plenty of salt has been stirred. A solution of sugar of lead to be obtained from any druggist, is also good for the eruption. Should it be severe and general, apply to a doctor for a cool- ing medicine for the blood as well. Hwes: The worst cases of hives I have ever known—and they were very severe and extensive— were cured by lubrication of the affected parts with pure castor oil. If the cutaneous irritation were ac- companied by nausea, showing that the lining of the stomach was likewise affected, calcined magnesia was given internally. DOMESTIC SURGERY 369 Pricily heat: Bathe the eruption freely with skim milk slightly diluted with water. Do this before re- tiring at night, and hourly during the day if the irritation be intense. Bruised lettuce leaves are cooling and curative to a fevered or itching skin. Bind upon the affected parts with old linen bandages. Warts: Acetic acid, applied properly and per- sistently, will remove the most tenacious of warts. This is the proper way: ‘Take the clean end of a dead match or any small piece of wood and dip it in the acid. On removing it there will be found about a drop clinging. Apply, or rather allow this to drop on the wart, which, being porous, will soon absorb it. Do this every day to each wart, being careful to have the hand or any part held perfectly still. A domestic remedy, to the excellence of which I can bear witness, is a paste of baking soda and water applied to the wart and bound in place. Renew as it dries. A homely application that is well spoken of is thus described by a grateful convalescent: “A sure cure for warts is to touch them every morning with fasting saliva. An acid in this remedy kills them without leaving a scar.”’ TO PREVENT VOMITING AFTER THE USE OF ETHER OR CHLOROFORM No matter how much or for how long the anes- thetic has been given, a cloth or absorbent cotton sat- urated in vinegar and held tight to the nose—patient inhaling it—will stop this trouble. CHAPTER XXVI THE CARE OF THE SICK ‘‘What kind of an education would I give a daugh- ter if I had one?”’ said a discriminating lawyer of: my acquaintance in answer to my query. ‘‘I should send her to Packer’s for a year or two to study do- mestic training so that she might be a good house- keeper. On top of that I would have her two years in a good New York boarding-school that she might gain something of that indefinably charming thing called ‘style’ as well as mental development. And then I believe I’d send her for three or four weeks’ training before her ‘coming-out tea’ to a good trained nurse in order that she might have the rudiments of skilful care of the sick.”’ This struck me at the minute as a somewhat mis- cellaneous hodge-podge of an educational scheme. Later I thought better of it. And particularly the last clause engaged my attention. ‘‘Isn’t it decidedly important,’’ I said to myself, ‘‘that the average girl should know something of nursing?”’ and I could an- swer the question only in the affirmative. Particularly is it necessary when the income of a family is small that some one in it should know how 370 CARE OF THE SICK 371 to care skilfully, with the least labor and the great- est return for that labor, for the sick. Trained nurses, except in cases of serious illness, are, for the most of us, a luxury. For minor ills we can not af- ford them and not all of us, even in times of great distress. Under the best of circumstances a season of illness is a trying one. It means mental anxiety; it means rearrangement of the domestic economy; it means a thousand unaccustomed steps and unusual activities. If there is some one in the house acquainted with even a few of the fundamental rules for taking care of the sick, for making the routine of the sick-room more bearable for invalid and care-taker, then it goes without saying that not only is the recovery of the loved one exactly that much quicker but the gen- eral life of the house is helped. In no branch of home-keeping is an orderly and systematic arrangement of duties more necessary than in the sick-room both for the sake of the patient and to save the strength of the nurse. Unexpected tasks, of course, will arise but there should be a plan for the every-day care of invalid and room. To supply a few of the simpler rules for such care is the object of this chapter. THE ROOM The room chosen for the invalid should be, of course, the best in the house, as regards light and ven- tilation. If it is near abath-room many steps will be 372 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK saved. People who are sick for a long time or those ill with nervous affections, which often means the same thing, are particularly sensitive to any glaring or decided effect in the wall-paper. If possible, choose a room where the coloring is soft or neutral and the pattern of the paper, if pattern there be, is vague and indistinct. It is one of the principles of the Rest Cure system, for which the celebrated Doc- tor Weir Mitchell is largely responsible, to keep the walls of a room as far as possible a blank,—free from pictures and other ornaments that distract or tease the mind. The character of the illness in question should, however, determine this point, common sense being here as elsewhere a mainstay. Generally speaking the room should be left free from superfluous furnishings, both on account of the mental and physical health of the patient and because absence of the unnecessary means less of care for the nurse. Dispense with heavy hangings and dra- peries, the fripperies of the dressing-table, all rugs but those absolutely necessary for comfort and to deaden noise. The bed is the most important item of the neces- sary furnishings. It should have upon it a firm, smooth hair mattress. The mattress is the founda- tion of the invalid’s comfort. If there is a depres- sion in the one that must be used, fold a blanket smoothly and put it in the hollow. If every person occupying a double bed was taught to occupy alter- nately the two sides of the bed, we should not meet CARE OF THE SICK 373 so often with what is in two senses depressing hol- lows in our mattresses. Position of the bed: The bed should be placed a little out from the wall so that the air may play all around it. Itshould not be placed opposite a window where the light will be directly in the patient’s eyes. The mattress should be covered with a bed pad, the lower sheet drawn smoothly and firmly over it. The upper sheet should be put on more loosely and easily to give free play to the body of the patient and enough length should be left at the top to fold down over the coverings. These should be blankets as they are much lighter than other coverings and contain more warmth. The spread should be of a light texture, not such as to cause extra weight upon the patient. The screen is part of the necessary furnishing of every sick-room. It is needed to protect the patient when the cleaning of the room is going on and to shield him from draft when the room is being aired. An emergency screen can be made by pinning a sheet over a clothes-horse. Medicine table: A separate table should be used for medicines, dropper, glasses, ete. This should have a marble top if possible so that it may be washed free of stains when necessary. As soon as the medicine bottle is empty or the physician prescribes a new drug, rid the table of the superfluous bottle or box. Too great care can not be taken to keep the drugs necessary in a sick-room properly sepa- rated and in order. 374 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WHEK Light: Among many old-fashioned people there is an idea that a sick-room should be always dark. This is false. Sunlight is one of the most healing, health-giving agents we have and, though care should be taken not to excite a person by too much light, or to injure weakened eyes by the same, sun- light should be administered as the patient can bear it. FRESH AIR Fresh air is of course even more necessary than sunlight and should be admitted into the room every day. In winter or when the patient is much weak- ened by long illness or when the disease is one that is particularly sensitive to changes of temperature, such as bronchitis, pneumonia and other diseases of a like character, great care must be taken when a decided change of air is made. In such cases it is well to open a window in an adjoining room, flooding it with fresh air while the connecting door is closed. Then put down the windows, wait until the air is somewhat warm, then open the connecting door for its admis- sion into the invalid’s room. , Generally speaking the ventilation may come from the patient’s own room. Leave one window or two facing each other, two or three inches down from the top. The cold air descends and forces out the warmer air and yet causes no draft upon the patient. When the room, night and morning, is given a thorough airing, wrap the patient in extra blankets, putting something over the head and place the screen go CARE OF THE SICK 375 as to shield the bed from a direct current of air. Having made these preparations throw the window wide open, your common sense and the weather di- recting you how long to keep it so. CLEANING OF THE SICK-ROOM The sick-room should be cleaned without bustle or stir. The screen again comes in good play here. If placed before the patient while the refurbishing of the room is in progress, he need scarcely sense the disturbance. If the room has a carpet—which Heaven forbid!—sweep softly with a dampened broom; if a wooden floor, use a broom cloth that is slightly wet. The dusting also should be done with a slightly dampened cloth. FLOWERS IN THE SICK-ROOM Sometimes flowers bring cheer and comfort to the patient; sometimes they are an unhealthful influence. When they are, and when they are not for the good of the patient can be settled only by the individual. But in no case should they be left in the sick-room! over night. INVALID’S REFRIGERATOR One of the luxuries of a sick-room is the invalid’s refrigerator where milk, water and other necessaries of the sick-room may be kept. In default of this, ice may be wrapped in an old blanket or woolen gar- ment of any kind and placed in a dish-pan with the 376 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK articles that need cooling about it. Milk and water, if kept in a sick-room, should be covered, as they are very sensitive to odor and atmosphere. SOILED CLOTHING AND EVACUATIONS A good nurse will lose no time in getting soiled clothing out of the way and in disposing of evacua- tions. A satisfactory disinfectant should be always at hand. Chloride of lime can be recommended. The vessels used by the patient should be washed out as soon as possible with soap, hot water and am- monia. KEEP THE PATIENT COMFORTABLE Two nightgowns should be kept in use, one for the day and one for the night. It is amazing how much more inclined to slumber a sick person feels with a change of gown just before the lights are turned low or out. Plenty of pillows should be on hand and these of various sizes, ready for use when the patient eraves a change of position. Pillows should be turned often to keep them from getting hard and lumpy to the touch. Extra blankets: In serious cases always have ex- tra blankets ready for that change of temperature in the weather which is sure to come between three and five o’clock in the morning. Then is the coldest time of the day or night and it is also the time when the patient’s vital energies are at their lowest. A pro- fessional nurse always has her eyes particularly wide CARE OF THE SICK 377. open for the comfort and safety of her patient at that time. The hot-water bag should always be conveniently at hand. Its uses are too well known to make any, inention of them necessary. Suffice it to say that the use of it can never do any harm and often, in the case of emergency and where other remedies are not convenient, does incalculable good. Changing the sheets while the patient is in the bed: To one who sees for the first time the professional nurse’s touch in changing sheets while the patient is in bed, the accomplishment seems nothing short of miraculous and, for many succeeding times, it may have that interest for one which arises out of any specially skilful piece of work. The writer herself well remembers in a long spell of typhoid fever the entertainment afforded her by watching the nurse perform this part of her duty. The novelty of ob- serving the performance did not wear off for a long time and the time of its happening was looked for- ward to as a bright spot in the, for the most part, dreary days. The amateur home nurse should not undertake this feat without previous practise. She should try it first with a well person as subject or take some prac- tical instruction from a nurse. The following direc- tions for the process are the correct ones, but they should be supplemented by the skill that comes from practise. First change the lower sheet. To do this, roll the patient toward the side of the bed away from BY 378 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK you. Turn the soiled sheet in smooth folds toward the center of the bed and close to the patient. Then spread your clean sheet over the half of the bed thus prepared for, laying the folds of the other half over the folds of the soiled sheet. Turn the sick one care- fully back to his first position, pull out the soiled sheet and make smooth and firm the clean sheet over the other half of the bed. To change the upper sheet, make free the bed- clothes all about, turning them slightly back from the foot of the bed but so as not to expose the patient. Have a blanket and clean sheet ready and place them upon top of the spread. Then, while you hold these firmly up to the neck of the patient with one hand, draw the soiled sheet and other covering out from beneath with the other hand. Replace the necessary covers on top of the fresh blanket. If you are skil- ful in this performance the patient will not be weary from it. No wrinkles and no crumbs: Three golden rules about the care of the bed are perfect cleanliness, no wrinkles and no crumbs. Invalids, much more than . well people, are sensitive to any unevennesses, folds or bumps in the sheet or bed pad. The nurse should make it her business to keep wrinkles smoothed out and crumbs brushed off. The invalid’s dining table: One of the luxuries of the sick-room is an invalid’s dining table which stands on a support placed at one end of the table while the other draws over the bed at a height ex- CARE OF THE SICK 379 actly convenient to the invalid’s hand. Such a table not only renders eating more easy and agreeable for the invalid but it saves the bed from crumbs and the danger of soil. Care of har and teeth: Every day the invalid’s hair should be combed, his teeth washed, his finger- nails cleaned. Whether a bath should be given every day will depend upon the nature of the disease. Hs- pecial care should be given to the teeth during illness as the medicines used often have a tendency to in- jure them. Visitors in the sick-room: In rural districts the house which contains a sick person is beset by visit- ors. The patient is supposed to have nothing to do but to entertain company and the refusal to see a friend is regarded as an insult. This is humorous as an illustration of the quirks in the rustic mind, but it is tragic for the sufferer. Even in towns of some size people will be found who think that they should always be permitted to visit the sick-rooms of their friends. The truth is that, in a case of illness, which is at all serious, visitors should be the exception, and no one should feel offended at being excluded from the sick-room. Such calls as are made should be short ones. If the nurse sees signs of fatigue in her patient she should indicate to visitors that the time for their departure has arrived. They should not sit on the bed; they should sit where the patient may see them without effort. They should not talk of dis- ease and the patient’s symptoms during their stay. 380 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK CARE OF THE PATIENT’S MENTAL AND MORAL COMFORT The person who has an invalid in charge must al- ways remember that the state of the mind has much to do with that of the body and that, as a preliminary to the care of the body and as a stimulant to its speedy recovery, everything possible must be done to keep the temper of the mind calm and equable. Discussions of illness, except in so far as is necessary to the proper treatment of the patient, should be ban- ished from the sick-room. The nurse should sternly repress her own nervousness and anxiety. One rea- son that a professional nurse, aside from her skill, is often more helpful than a home nurse, is that the feelings of the former, not being engaged to any con- siderable extent, she bears herself evenly. The first lesson for the home nurse to learn is self-control, the kind of cheerfulness that comes from a conquest of self in the interest of the suffering. Natural manner in a sick-room: Adopt as far as possible an easy, matter-of-course air in the sick- room. Walk lightly but not conspicuously on the tips of your toes. Speak in a low tone but don’t whisper. Don’t be frivolous in manner but don’t look portentous. If possible, let the patient feel that the every-day affairs and work of the house are going on regularly and smoothly. There is nothing more soothing to the mind than the feeling that the estab- lished order is maintaining itself. In short let your manner in the sick-room be as CARE OF THE SICK 381 easy and natural as possible. Physicians know the value of this. An instance of the value in which it is held by them occurs to my mind as I write. The picture rises in my mind of a young girl painfully agitated over the serious illness of her mother and frowning upon the professional nurse and the doctor as they talked cheerfully in a low tone while prepar- ing the medicines for the patient. I see the old phy- sician with his keen eyes penetrating the girl’s vexa- tion and the cause of it. ‘‘We are not disturbing your mother,’ he said. ‘‘ The sound of natural every-day conversation is a helpful influence and will do her good.’ Whether talk is allowed in the sick- room or no, the rule always holds,—‘‘let your manner there be easy and natural.”’ CHAPTER XXVII AFTERMATH Since the preceding chapters were written such a goodly aftermath of available and useful items has sprung up about me that I am constrained to reap and garner them for the benefit of those I would help. Were I to call this afterword an ‘‘Appendix’’ no- body would read it. I prefer to bind up the slender bundle with sister sheaves and secure for it house- wifely recognition. If it be made up of divers sorts of grain, my ex- cuse is that some of the seeds have been blown into my meadow by vagrant winds and from unknown quarters. So long as they are sound and nutritious, what matter whence they came ? HOUSEWIFELY HINTS Women who have not discarded the serviceable’ rag carpet in kitchen and laundry, may be glad to know that it may be washed on the floor so long as it is not worn badly in body and surface. And this, al- though it may be vulgarly and apparently hopelessly dirty. Choose a fine, windy day, when John and the boys are safely off to work and to school, for the opera- 382 AFTERMATH 383 tion. Shave a bar of old white soap into a pail of hot water, churn it to suds and stir in a cup of gaso- line. (Have no fire in the room.) In another pail, close at hand, have plenty of clean hot water for rinsing. You should be provided with a new, strong scrubbing brush and an abundance of clean, soft cloths. When everything is in order, scrub that carpet as you would a floor, but with less slopping. Wash a space the width of a breadth and a foot wide, rinse quickly and wipe as dry as you can get it before taking the brush in hand for another scrub. Proceed in this way until you have been over the whole carpet. Rub the badly soiled parts hard, applying the suds several times before rinsing. The floor will be dry in an astonishingly short time, if you have not been too lavish with the water. Leave windows and doors open, and let the air and sunshine do the rest. To remove stains from blankets: Make a mixture of equal parts of glycerin and yolk of egg. Spread it on the stain, leave it for half an hour, then wash as usual. To polish brass: A capital preparation for polish- ing brasses is the red pomade sold for cleaning cop- per and brass, used with a flannel cloth, previously wrung out in kerosene. The effect is magical. The brass rails, rods and other mountings of steamers and ferry boats are polished with this. For brass beds no polishing powders nor liquids should be employed, the brass requiring nothing more 384 THE HOUSHEKEEPER’S WEEK than a rubbing with a soft rag to keep it looking bright. After the lacquer is scratched by powders it will be a task to keep the brass in anything like good condition. The lacquer is not meant to be scrubbed, but is intended to protect the brass from tarnishing through action of the air. Green brooms: Brooms of green straw do not wear as well as those of the natural color, so do not buy them under the impression that they will outlast others. When bureau drawers stick in the grooves: Rub soap over their edges. If that does not remedy the trouble, use fine sandpaper. To wash chamois skins: Squeeze the leather in warm soap-suds—the addition of a little ammonia is good when the leather is very dirty—repeating the process if necessary. Rinse in a fresh lather of soap and water and then hang out to dry. During the drying process the leather may be rubbed with the hands and pulled into shape a little. When dry it will be as soft and as good for cleaning purposes as ever. To take fat from soups quickly: A greasy soup is a culinary abomination. In fact it does not deserve the name of soup. It is merely badly-made gravy. Every drop of oil should be removed from the sur- face before the broth or clear soup is served. If you discover globules of fat upon the gravy soup you are to serve to-day, you need not wait to cool it before removing them. Wring a clean white cloth AFTERMATH 385 out in iced water and strain the soup. The grease will coagulate at once and will not go through the cloth, while the liquid will. Of course, the soup must not be squeezed in the straining. All stocks, soup and gravy should be boiled up each day or they will turn sour. To keep a burning lamp from smelling or smoking: A tablespoonful of vinegar put into the oil lamp or stove that smells or smokes will cause it to burn with a clear light and prevent it from smoking. If you boil the wicks of lamps in strong hot vinegar, then dry them, it will do away with most of the disagree- able odor. A sure destroyer of moths—simple and not poison- ous: Saturate moth-infested stuffed furniture, rugs, etc., with naphtha. Do this in the open air, and after several days have elapsed repeat the operation, as the eggs may not all have been destroyed at the first trial. Lay over moth-eaten spots in the carpet several thicknesses of cloth wrung from hot water, and place hot irons upon the cloths. Allow them to stand ten or twelve minutes at a time that the steam may penetrate every part. After this has been done pour on naphtha. To keep mice from closed drawers: If camphor be kept in drawers and cupboards, their contents will be safe from mice, for they detest the smell. To restore curdled mayonnaise: If your mayon- naise curdles in the beating you may save the day by stirring into it a lump of ice as big as your fist and 386 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK whirling it rapidly through the dressing for thirty seconds, then taking it out. Go on with your beating then. Should this not succeed, mix into the mayon- naise the yolk of a chilled fresh egg. Mayonnaise should not be beaten with a spoon, but with horizontal strokes of a fork, or with a revolving egg-beater. To clear and purify muddy water: Stir into it powdered alum. Leave it to settle and in a few hours it will be fit for use. Drain off the water without disturbing the dregs. The taste of alum will be hardly perceptible. To take grease spots out of wall paper: Pulverize French chalk, damped lightly, just enough to make it adhere to the paper; but do not make it wet enough to run upon the surrounding surface. Leave it on for a couple of days; cover them with blotting-paper and hold a warm—not a hot—iron upon the blotter for two minutes. This should draw out the grease. If it does not, brush off the chalk and repeat the pro- cess. To clean a shell-backed comb or brush from white marks left by alcohol, or cologne: Try to efface the white marks with camphorated oil rubbed well in with soft flannel. Then rub the whole comb with neat’s foot oil applied in the same way. Leave the oil on for a day, shutting the comb in a box. Fin- ally, polish with chamois skin. Lo renovate black crape: Remove it from the dress and sponge it with beer or diluted ammonia. AFTERMATH 387 The former leaves an odor which takes rather longer to evaporate, but placing it when damp before a brisk fire facilitates matters. It may also be renewed by holding it over a pan of boiling water, evenly, but not so tightly as to hinder it from falling naturally into the ‘‘erinkles”’ that give it character. Take it by the edges when the steam has moistened it thoroughly, and hang in the dry air. To bleach faded cottons white: The colored frock or blouse that has been faded in the wash or by the sun, may be bleached white by boiling in cream of tartar water. The quantity to be used to make the garment a pure white is a teaspoonful of the powder to a quart of water. Materials that have become faded and discolored are often restored by packing them away in a dark closet or chest. Layers of tissue-paper will aid in the process. To do away with the dark ring left by cleaning tex- tiles: When a dark ring is left on the material after using such cleansing agents to remove a stain, make a ring all around the outside of the first ring by dip- ping the finger in chloroform and applying it to the material; keep rubbing toward the center of the cir- cle with plenty of chloroform, allowing it to evapo- rate freely, and the ring will disappear when the spot is dry. Sweeping and dusting: If your home is heated by dry air, a damp cloth should be laid over each regis- 388 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK ter before you begin to sweep. In summer cover the closed registers with rugs or with wadded squares of matting to keep the must and smells of the basement out of the living-rooms. Brooms dipped for a few minutes in boiling suds once a week will last much longer than they other- wise would. They should immediately afterward be plunged into cold water to stiffen the straw. If salt be added to the water—a handful to a large pailful— the straw will be stiff and cleaner than if water alone be used, and the salt is fatal to the hardiest of vermin that may lurk in the upper part of the brush. Emery-cloth and sandpaper as sharpeners and pol- ishers: A small board to which sandpaper has been glued flat is good for rubbing flat-irons upon to take off any roughness. Emery-cloth of different grades of fineness may be glued to narrow strips of wood for use in sharpening knives or scissors and putting a point upon a pencil. How to clean sponges: Sponges ought to be washed out first, with household ammonia; then in water in which a little cream of tartar has been dis- solved. Finally, rinse in clear cold water. To keep salt from hardening: During damp weather salt cellars are apt to be clogged on the inner side of the holes. By placing a few rice kernels in each cellar and adding the salt last the delivery is better. A teaspoonful of corn-starch mixed well into each AFTERMATH 389 cupful of salt is a yet surer preventive, the starch absorbing the dampness. The care of jelly bags: Dip jelly bags in boiling water and wring as dry as possible before using, to save the loss of fruit juice from soaking into the cloth. How to wash a sieve: Never wash a sieve with soap. Soda or ammonia will clean it, with the help of a clean whisk broom. To clean flat-irons: Tie a lump of wax in a piece of cloth, and keep it for the purpose. When the iron is hot, rub it with the wax, and then scour with a paper or cloth sprinkled with salt. Wax the iron again before putting it away, to prevent the forma- tion of rust. How to pick game: 'To remove the feathers from game of any kind dip in boiling water, then wrap in a thick cloth. The feathers are steamed loose in a very few minutes and the ‘‘pins”’ will give very little or no trouble. Charcoal in the pantry: A dish of charcoal placed in the pantry will keep articles of food sweet and wholesome almost as well as ice. Change it once a week when the weather is warm. To remove the “‘shine”’ from cloth: For that an- noying ‘‘shine’’ that will appear on clothing where the most wear comes, use bluing—common laundry bluing. Use a tablespoonful of bluing to a half-cup of water, apply with a soft cloth, then proceed with 390 THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WEEK the pressing, and the ‘‘shine” has vanished until time to press again. To take rust from steel and iron: Make a paste of wood ashes and kerosene, and rub it well into the rust. Leave it on for a few hours before scouring it with dry ashes (sifted fine) and a flannel cloth. This will remove rust from almost any surface. If you can not get wood ashes, which are often difficult to obtain, use whiting. To clean rusty steel make a paste of equal quanti- ties of whiting and brick-dust mixed together with kerosene. Apply this to the steel with an old cloth, and afterward polish with soft leather.