AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
279 
who makes his sausages. Poor unfortunates in 
the city, doomed to eat nameless meat under 
the name of sausages, I wonder if they do not 
envy us the privilege of our home manufacture ? 
Bridget was up betimes, and we breakfasted at 
seven, which is early in these short days. Hus¬ 
band always cuts up his pork; for the vain man 
thinks he can do it a little better than the hired 
butcher; and, as we never’engage that operator 
for the job, his opinion of his own prowess is 
unimpeachable. After cutting, the pieces are as¬ 
sorted. The hams and shoulders are to be cured 
for bacon, the leaf fat and the flabby pieces are 
to be tried for lard, the head, ears, and feet are 
for head-cheese, (or souse,) the spare-ribs, and 
“wood-chuck pieces,”as we call them,for roasting, 
the joles and lean pieces along the back, for 
sausages, and the remainder for salting. He 
thinks this the best division that can be made 
of the porker’s spoils. It saves the shoulder- 
pieces, usually cut up for sausage-meat, substi¬ 
tuting the joles, which are often smoked, but 
rarely eaten with good relish, having too large a 
proportion of fat, and uses up the lean pieces 
sometimes appropriated to roasting, but which 
often spoil unless given away. Here he comes 
with the meat and chopping-tray; for this is an 
age of woman’s rights, and it is her privilege to 
have the help of brawny arms to work up this 
meat. If any housekeeper considers this an in¬ 
vasion of her domain, I have no disposition to 
quarrel with her ; but in these parts we use a 
little discrimination in the assertion of our rights. 
“What sort of a thing is this, husband? I 
thought you were to chop the meat.” “You 
are behind the age this time, Hattie. The 
times are past when wise men spend a whole 
day in cutting up a few pounds of meat.” 
“ This is one of the patent sausage-cutters,” 
said he, “ which I just brought from an agricul¬ 
tural warehouse, and it will cut up nicely 40 or 
50 pounds, or more, of mince-meat in an hour, 
or 700 or 800 pounds in a day, with this arm to 
turn itand suiting the action to the word, he 
gave the crank a few vigorous revolutions. The 
implement introduced with this flourish, is a 
nice little thing, scarcely as large as my work- 
box on the table, being not more than a foot 
long, and six or eight inches square. It opens 
like a work-box, and inside is a cylinder with 
square-cornered iron pins, driven into it in spiral 
rows ; the lower part of the box is filled with 
sharp knives. The meat is put in through a 
little hopper placed upon one end of the cover, 
and as the crank is turned, it is caught by the 
pins and carried between the knives, and soon 
“ There, wife, is your meat, ‘fine as a fifty’ in 
just thirty minutes,” said he, as he gave the 
crank its last turn. I had them all seasoned 
and put up by two o’clock. My recipe for sea 
soning is this: 
Take one-third fat and two-thirds lean pork 
nicely chopped or cut up; and then, to every 
twelve pounds of meat, add twelve large, even 
spoonfuls of pounded salt, nine of sifted sago, 
and six of sifted black pepper. Some like 
little summer savory. 
I think the best way to preserve this meat, 
when prepared, is to pack it tight in small tin 
cans, holding a quart each, or stone jars. If the 
cans, or jars, have tight-fitting covers, I seal 
them with wax or gum shellac; if not, I pour a 
thin cake of suet over them, which excludes the 
air entirely, and preserves the meat until spring, 
if kept in a cold place. When I wish to cook 
them, I make them into small balls for the table, 
I have found this a perfectly satisfactory way 
and much less trouble than the old-fashioned 
plan of stuffing the casings. 
Having finished the sausage-meat, we took 
dinner. I rested a while, and then seasoned 
and put away my head-cheese, which Bridget 
had boiled and boned so nicely. This has 
simply to be boiled until the bones are loose, 
and the meat entirely tender. After picking 
out all the bones and cutting it up pretty fine 
pouring off the water—I season with salt, sage, 
and pepper, till it suits my taste, and then pack 
it tight in a deep pan, while hot. When cold it 
will cut in nice slices to fry for breakfast, and 
will keep sometime in cold weather. There is 
a satisfaction in completing a dreaded task, there¬ 
fore I feel happy, though weary. The closing 
hours of the day remind me that the year is 
closing also—and I pause to ponder. Am I a 
year wiser, a year better, as well as a year 
older ? 
For the American Agriculturist. 
RECIPE FOR WASHING.—No. 2. 
drops out at the bottom of the other end all cut 
up finely. If you print this, Mr. Editor, won’t 
you just put in here a cut of this labor-saving 
implement, if you can procure one ? 
Mr. Editor :—My wife was very much inte¬ 
rested in the Washing Recipe published in No. 
16 of your paper; but she, in common with 
some hundred or two others in New-York city, 
thinks she has a more excellent way. The origi¬ 
nator of the process is unknown, and I have not 
seen the recipe published. It is as follows : 
The night before washing day put the clothes 
to soak in cold water, and also place on the hot 
stove, in a suitable vessel, 2 lbs. soap, cut small, 
3 cents’ worth of borax, (about an ounce,) and 
2 quarts of water. These may be left to sim¬ 
mer till the fire goes out; in the morning the 
mixture will be solid. On washing day, opera¬ 
tions are commenced by setting on a stove or 
furnace the wash-kettle, nearly filled with cold 
water. Into this put about one-fourth of a 
pound of the compound, and then wring out 
the clothes that have been soaking and put 
them into the kettle. By the time that the 
water is scalding hot, the clothes will be ready 
for taking out. Drain them well, and put them 
into clean cold water, and then thoroughly 
rinse them twice, and they are ready to be hung 
out. When more water is added to the wash- 
kettle, more soap should also be added, but the 
quantity needed will be very small. 
This process has many advantages over others. 
It is suited for washing every kind of fabric; it 
is especially good for flannels, and seems to set 
colors rather than remove them from dresses 
or shawls, while the white clothes are rendered 
exceedingly white. It costs less for soap than 
the common mode of washing; it is only half 
as laborious ; the clothes are thoroughly cleansed 
in much less time, without injury to them; and 
last, but not least, the soap does not act like 
caustic upon the hands, but after a day’s wash¬ 
ing they have a peculiarly soft, silky feel, as far 
removed as is possible from the sensations pro¬ 
duced by washing with ordinary soap, or ordi¬ 
nary washing compounds. 
My wife-—who dictates as I write—has tried 
many processes and compounds, but has settled 
down upon this, as being as near perfect as is 
possible for any thing of man’s invention to be. 
It may be useful to some of your subscribers, 
but of this you must judge, and print the recipe 
or not, as seems to you best. Typo. 
We are quite thankful to our friend “Typo” 
for acting as an amanuensis to his “ better half” 
in giving us the above recipe. There are many 
valuable recipes which are confined to the lim¬ 
ited circles where they originated, because no 
one writes them out for the public. From the 
source of this recipe, we have considerable con¬ 
fidence in supposing it to be a valuable one. 
We cannot see a good chemical reason for the 
valuable effects thought to be produced by the 
use of borax, but it is not at all improbable that 
it may be so. 
We have noticed that in nearly all recipes for 
washing, it is recommended to soak the clothes 
over night. In this, we think, lies the princi¬ 
pal secret of their success. Most of the ordi¬ 
nary filth upon clothing is dissolved in water if 
sufficient time is given. The turpentine and 
camphene frequently recommended to be added 
to soap, are good solvents of the oily substances 
upon clothing. If much of these are used, how¬ 
ever, there is danger of their being absorbed 
into the system, producing laxative, and other 
injurious effects. A small quantity is probably 
not objectionable. If, as stated above, borax 
produces equally good or better results, it is to 
be preferred, as being less liable to be injurious. 
We hope our lady readers will thoroughly test 
this new process, and report upon the results. 
If as good as recommended, it will be worth 
scores of dollars to every one adopting it. 
Bed and Board. —A very good hit at the too 
common practice of advertising fugitive wives, 
is given in the Stamford Advocate , wherein Mrs. 
Jones says, that she has left no “ bed and board” 
of Mr. Jones, for he had none to leave, as he 
had been a long time supported by herself; that 
he had even taken her money to pay for the 
advertisement; that he need not have adver¬ 
tised that “ he would not pay her debts,” for 
the public all knew he would not even pay his 
own ; and that, if left to himself, his bed would 
be only a hoard. 
Be Careful to whom you Talk.—Two 
young ladies were once singing a duett in a con¬ 
cert-room. A stranger, who had heard better 
performances, turned to his neighbor, saying: 
“ Does not the lady in white sing wretchedly ?” 
“Excuse me, Sir,” replied he; I hardly feel 
at liberty to express my sentiments, being not 
impartial in the case; it is my sister.” 
“I beg your pardon, Sir,” answered the 
stranger in much confusion, “I meant the lady in 
blue.” 
“You are perfectly right there,” replied the 
neighbor; “I have often told her so myself; it 
is my wife!” 
