i84 HOME LIFE ON AN OSTRICH FARM. 



goddess, is surrounded by an atmosphere of most evil- 

 smelling fumes, prominent among which is the paraffin 

 with which, to save herself trouble, she liberally feeds 

 the fire every time it becomes low ; while the dense 

 smoke and steam arising from several pots and sauce- 

 pans on the stove proclaim the contents to be in various 

 stages of burning, — the climax being reached by what 

 was onoe the soup, but of which nothing now remains 

 but a few dried and charred fragments of bone, tightly 

 adhering to an utterly ruined pot — new last week. 

 In answer to all expostulation the doer of the mis- 

 chief has no word of regret or apology, but, taking the 

 occurrence as a matter of course, shows all her even 

 white teeth in a bright, good-tempered smile, as she 

 says, " Yes, missis, de soup is burnt." 



Then still more horrible whiffs assail you, viz., the 

 combined odours of the various articles of food which 

 she has put away, carefull}^ covered up in jars and tins, 

 where she has forgotten them ; and w4iere, in the close 

 atmosphere of her stuffy kitchen, with the thermometer 

 at 100°, they have promptly gone bad. She has no 

 "nose"; and, though her kitchen may be pervaded with 

 odours which knock you down, she remains smiling and 

 contented, and needs to be informed of the fact that 

 there is a bad smell before she will set to work — with 

 great surprise — to hunt out the cause of it ; too often 

 revealing sights which make you shudder. 



If it is anywhere near a meal- time, her fire is sure 

 to be very low, if not out altogether ; she has, of course, 

 forgotten to tell the men, before starting for the camps 



