1862. 



NEAV ENGLAND FARMER. 



429 



For the New England Farmer. 



THE BREAD AND BUTTER MACHrNTE. 

 BY MRS. MADELINE LESLIE. 



"It has come, mothei* ! It's come, Etty ! The 

 machine has come ! The express man is taking it 

 out of his wagon, hurrah ! Now we'll have some 

 bread in a trice !" and the excited boy swung his 

 cap in the air as he bounded down the steps. 



Excuse me, dear reader, for introducing the re- 

 spectable family of Mr, James Franklin Allen in 

 such an unceremonious manner ; but, really, to 

 the parties concerned, the occasion was a most ex- 

 citing one, which must be my apology. 



Now that the machine has been safely deposited 

 on tlie kitchen table, and the express man, having 

 received his pay, has turned his weary horses from 

 the door, allow me to explain that the aforenamed 

 Mr. Allen was what may be called a merchant- 

 farmer ; that is, he made money easily at his store 

 in the city, and spent it laboriously on a few acres 

 of land, which he was trying to rescue from the 

 imputation of having run out. Certain it was, 

 that whatever else did not grow on the farm, the 

 yield of sorrel was very abundant, enough to fur- 

 nish cures for all the sore throats in the State. 

 Mr. Allen, however, was a man who, having put 

 his hand to the plow, did not look back. Not he. 

 The third year a peat meadow was added to his 

 acres, the mud from which he was well assured 

 would assimilate with his gravelly soil, and thus 

 produce rich bottom land. In a few years his pre- 

 dictions began to be verified. He now added the 

 Ploughman and the Neio England Farmer to his 

 list of periodicals, read with interest notices of all 

 the county and State fairs, and even aspired to 

 some of the best premiums. 



Noticing one day an advertisement of the prize 

 offered for the best bread at the coming fair, he 

 instantly determined that his daughter Etta should 

 contest it with her neighbors, from flour made of 

 his own wheat. To stimulate her ambition still 

 furthei', he offered an additional premium of ten 

 dollars, if she would win the silver cup from all 

 competitors. 



From this time forth there was a vigorous col- 

 lection of receipts for making yeast and mixing 

 bread, the excitement reaching its culminating 

 point when, one evening, Mr. Allen returned 

 from the city Mith the news of a bread and butter 

 machine, the latest production of the genius of our 

 American inventor, Thomas Blanchard, Esq., of 

 Boston. After the announcement of this new aid 

 to her plans, it could not, of course, be expected 

 that Miss Etta would give herself or her father a 

 moment's rest until he had promised to purchase 

 one immediately for her use. 



The arrival of this wonderful machine was, 

 therefore, the occasion of Master Walter's excite- 

 ment at the commencement of this story. Injus- 

 tice to its merits, it ought to be described without 

 further preamble. 



On tearing off the coarse matting which envel- 

 oped it, a small tub was found, fastened by a large 

 iron pin into an iron stand by means of a groove, 

 in which it turned with great ease. The stand 

 could be fastened by wooden screws upon any ta- 

 ble, and thus rendered firm for the work of knead- 

 ing. Running up from one end of the stand or 

 supporter, to the tub, was a bar of iron into which 

 a lever was attached, which was the propelling 



power for the business. About midway of the 

 lever was a wooden, concave shovel just fitting to 

 the size of the tub, which, when worked horizon- 

 tally by the lever, carried the dough from one side 

 of the vessel to the other, mixing, kneading and 

 making into loaves ready for the pans. If it was 

 more convenient to allow the bread to rise without 

 moving it from the tub, the lever was raised and 

 turned back out of the way, and the dough left 

 without any M'aste of materials, ready, when risen, 

 for the second and third kneading. 



Having heard her father's explanation, Etta was 

 all eagerness to give her machine a trial. Put- 

 ting on a large apron, therefore, she ran to sift her 

 flour, measured it and poured it into the new tub, 

 which her mother had carefully cleansed ; then 

 adding her light, frothy yeast and lukewarm wa- 

 ter, she proceeded to work the lever to mix the 

 dough, the entire family standing around to watch 

 the experiment. 



"Shove it back and forth," said her father, "in 

 this manner ; you are not ready for the kneading, 

 yet."^ 



"You will need more flour," suggested the ex- 

 perienced mother. "It is a good rule to mix in 

 flour until it has done sticking." 



"O, see how nicely the shovel clears it from the 

 sides of the tub !" cried the laughing girl. "I'm 

 sure, for one, I thank Mr. Blanchard. It does 

 Avork beautifully !" 



"Yes, it is a complete success," remarked the 

 merchant-farmer, "and if not so remarkable as his 

 machine for turning marble or plaster busts, or 

 his patent for making gun-stocks, yet I prophesy 

 that Mr. Blanchard's name will long be remem- 

 bered in connection with his bread and butter 

 machine." 



"Can it churn, too, father ?" cried Walter, his 

 eyes growing large with astonishment. 



"No, not churn, my boy, but you can see by the 

 motion of your sister in making the bread, that 

 the butter when churned, could be thoroughly 

 worked or separated from the milk, by pressing it 

 up against the sides. You, or any one, could do 

 that under the direction of your mother." 



Walter gave a scream of joy. "Can you churn 

 to-day, mother ?" he asked. 



"No, not to-day. We must not disturb Etty's 

 bread till it is ready for the oven. Now, turn it 

 over, Etty, and leave the top smooth." 



"I feel quite sure that I shall win the prize," 

 exclaimed the young girl, gazing with evident 

 pride at the nice, white, well-mixed dough in the 

 tub; "and only see, not even a dust of flour on 

 my hands." 



"But mother threw in the flour from the scoop, 

 for you," cried Walter. 



"Yes, but another day I could do it quite as 

 well, myself. I can't expect to have such an ad- 

 miring audience every time I mix bread." 



"Here is another convenience," said Mr. Allen, 

 smilingly untying a paper bundle which he had 

 quietly withdrawn from their notice. He held up 

 a flat, round piece of hard wood, which he assured 

 them fitted exactly into the bottom of the tub, and 

 then a sharp knife which could be fastened to the 

 wooden shovel, thus acting as an extensive cutter 

 for mince-meat or sausages. 



"Well, really, now. Miss Allen!" exclaimed 

 Hannah, the girl of all work, who had been gazing 

 at the group and reflecting in amazement at the 



