1870.J 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
65 
TEE MOUSEEieitJID. 
(t3T" For other Household Items, see “Basket ” pages.) 
A Shoe-blacking Stand. 
Well blacked shoes are a necessity, but the oper¬ 
ation of blacking them is irksome, and the appar¬ 
atus used is a nuisance in the eyes of the house- 
SHOE-BLACKING STAND. 
keeper. Hence the blacking and brushes are ban¬ 
ished to some out of the way place, to which the 
one who would use them must follow them. The 
house-furnishing stores keep neat blacking stands, 
made like the one shown in the engraving. They 
are made of black walnut, and when closed no one 
would suspect their use. Upon lifting the lid we 
find a place for the brushes, one for the blacking, 
and a stand upon which to rest the foot while per¬ 
forming the polishing. Probably the majority of 
our readers do not find it necessary to black the 
boots in the house, but a stand of this kind, even 
roughly made, would be found a great convenience 
in the shed or other place, devoted to this part of 
the toilet. It would keep the brushes and black¬ 
ing together, and free from dust, and prove a com¬ 
fort in affording a foot rest of the proper hight. 
A person trying to black his boots with his foot in 
an inconveniently elevated position, shows himself 
in an attitude, the awkwardness of which is as 
amusing to others as it is uncomfortable to himself. 
Bitter Butter. 
Several have written in regard to bitter butter 
iu winter, the communications being called out by 
an item which appeared iu the “ Basket ” for De¬ 
cember. The suggestions are essentially the same 
in all; we give one from Miss P. E. G., Lan¬ 
caster Co., Pa., in which she addresses “ G. W. S.,” 
the correspondent who complained of bitter butter. 
“ You keep the milk in the cellar. The Agricul¬ 
turist says, ‘keep it at 60°.’ Your cellar is probably 
quite as low as 35° during a part of the winter. 
Don’t the potatoes freeze a little ? ours do, without 
much care. The Agriculturist says : ‘ Keep both 
milk and cream where they will not absorb kitchen 
or other odors, especially smoke of wood fires, or 
of burning grease.’ Dear me ! What shall we do ? 
Some of us, perhaps, can only afford one fire, and 
we make a dreadful smoke when we kindle it in 
the morning, and we fry sausage and mush for 
breakfast, and we boil pork and cabbage for dinner. 
What, then, shall we do with our milk? Answer— 
Make it sour before it can get bitter. In our re¬ 
gion, the milk is sometimes kept in a cupboard, 
in the living room, or perhaps upon a table, nice¬ 
ly covered with a white cloth, or on the mantel¬ 
piece. This will make much better butter for you 
than your bitter milk. I have sold butter, in a 
city, at 65 cents, the milk for which stood in the 
broad kitchen window (where there was not a great 
deal of cooking), and was lifted occasionally to 
the mantel to sour. Don’t let one pot be bitter. 
An experienced farmer’s wife told me that one 
vessel of such milk would give churning a taste. 
In the case just mentioned of my own churning, 
the quantity of milk was so small, that I was not 
able always to churn iu a week, if I recollect right. 
I will suggest another way.—Try it.—Have stand¬ 
ing a vessel of sour milk, or buttermilk, not bitter 
sour milk. When you strain your milk, add to 
each pot or pan, intended for butter, a little of 
this sour milk—a skimmer full, perhaps. Your 
milk will be sour, and see what beautiful cream 
will rise. I have seen milk managed iu this way 
kept in the winter in a spring-house with un¬ 
glazed windows. Perhaps you will not have 
quite so much cream as if you keep your milk iu 
a warm room, but try the experiment. I have 
further heard of settiug milk pots upon the stove, 
and bringing the milk to a scald before setting it 
away. This extra heat may cause the milk to sour, 
and prevent that awful bitterness, of which I speak 
feelingly. But make your milk sour before it is 
bitter, unless indeed you can make all the cream 
rise before it is either sour or bitter. The evening 
before churning, if you have a coal stove, bring up 
your cream pot, or pots, and set them near the 
stove. Do not try to churn cold cream unless 
your time hangs heavily on your hands, or your 
name is Job. If you have a thermometer, you 
can vary your cream to 60°, or perhaps 65°, by stir¬ 
ring iu warm water. Be careful of your thermome¬ 
ter, and do not plunge it into water so hot as to 
break it. After you have done these things, dear 
Illinois butter-maker, will you not give us in the 
Agriculturist the result of your effort?” 
Soothing Syrup—Poisoning Made Easy. 
There are mothers who use “ Soothing Syrup ” 
in perfect ignorance of its dangerous character. If 
it were labeled “ Syrup of Morphia—Poison,” as it 
should be, but, very little of it would be sold. It 
ought to be very “ soothing ” indeed, if, as is stated 
in the California Medical Gazette, it contains very 
nearly a grain of Morphia to the ounce of syrup, 
and that the dose for a child three months old is 
equal to 10 drops of laudanum. It is ascertained that 
about 100,000 bottles of this stuff are sold annually 
in San Francisco, and it is also stated that one-third 
of the babies there die before they reach the age of 
two years. It seems to us most strange that a 
mother should give a child a medicine of any kind 
of the composition of which she was ignorant, un¬ 
less she received it from the hands of a trusted 
physician. Years ago when certain worm lozenges 
were so popular that “children would cry for them,” 
we made an analysis of them and found a good dose 
of calomel in each. Let secret remedies alone. 
■-— <———»o —-—•>- 
Washing Fluids Again. 
Since last month’s paper was made up, replies to 
our request for recipes for washing fluids have 
continued to pour in. It is, indeed, very gratify¬ 
ing to know that so many housekeepers are ready 
to assist their—what iu view of washing-day we 
may well call—fellow-laborers. Some manufactur¬ 
ers of washing fluids and labor-saving soaps, have 
sent us samples of their goods, and some corre¬ 
spondents have written to recommend this or that 
soap or liquid. Those who have such preparations 
for sale can set forth their merits in the advertising- 
columns, our object being to get some cheap and 
useful preparation that every oue can make. 
Tliree-fourtlis or more of the recipes that have been 
sent, were the soda solution given last month, and 
the writers agree in assuring us that it can be used 
without injury, as the clothes require much less 
rubbing than when washed without it_Here is 
another which several have sent, though the pro¬ 
portions of ’the ingredients vary. Sal Soda and 
Borax, % lb. each ; Gum Camphor, 1 oz. Alcohol, 
pint. Dissolve the soda and borax in one gal¬ 
lon of boiling rain-water, pour in two gallons of 
cold rain-water, add the camphor first dissolved in 
the alcohol, stir well and bottle for use. Four ta- 
blcspoonfuls of the preparation are to be mixed 
with a pint of soft soap, and the clothes boiled in a 
suds made of this. It is all the better if the clothes 
are soaked over night, before putting them into the 
suds. We do not quite see what use the camphor 
can be in this preparation, though a solution of 
camphor and alcohol will dissolve some resinous 
substances that alcohol alone will not dissolve.... 
One lady adds a tablespoonful of Saleratus to the 
boiler of suds, which is no improvement over the 
generally used sal soda... .Another uses a mixture 
of Turpentine and Camphene, 1 pint each, and Am¬ 
monia, I oz. Three tablespoonfuls to a pint of 
soft soap, used iu the first suds. Camphene, fortu¬ 
nately nearly out of use for burning, is only a very 
pure kind of spirits of turpentine, and the mixture 
is really only turpentine and ammonia. 
Scouring- Knives.- Miss If. M. S. says : 
Place a quantity of brick-dust on a board, and 
having the knife perfectly dry, press it down hard 
and rub it back and forth crosswise of the blade , when 
bright, turn over and scour the other side. Then 
wipe off with chamois leather. Knives thus treat¬ 
ed will retain their brightness much longer, and 
have a new look after years of usage. 
Household Talks. 
BY AUNT HATTIE. 
The fact of it is, I have not had time. Three 
months ago I sent Peggy away, and have not been 
suited with any servant since. I said something 
about Peggy in a previous “talk.” She had lived 
in Ireland with her mistress for thirty years. About 
two years since Mr. Jackson died, and the farm had 
to be leased and their effects sold. The family, 
finding themselves quite reduced in circumstances, 
sought a home in this land of refuge. They tried 
to induce their old servant to stay in Ireland, but 
in vain; she determined to follow them wherever 
they might go. They went first to Canada, and 
Peggy had to work in another family for the first 
time iu her life. The family afterwards moved to 
the States and left her behind. She was unhappy, 
and finally followed them here. Mrs. Jackson 
recommended her, for being faithful, excellent 
with young children, and possessing the rare virtue 
of never wanting to go out except once on Sunday. 
She was old, but neat in her appearance, and from 
her conversation, gave me the impression that she 
would be quite willing to learn anything, and that 
she lived only at my service. “Hattie,” said the 
Doctor to me, when I had enumerated her qualifi¬ 
cations to him, “you are fixed now, if you are 
wise ; an old servant is what every Woman with a 
family should have, and I hope you will not send 
her off for any trivial offence. Mark my word, 
these young girls are never to be trusted with 
children.” I took the Doctor’s advice kindly, 
especially as I felt confident that there was no dif¬ 
ficulty in carrying it out to the letter. But, alas 
for human anticipations. Peggy had not been with 
me a month before I was tired of her. She could 
neither cook, bake, nor set a table. She could not, 
and I could not teach her to, do up Edward’s shirts 
and collars, or any of the children’s or my fine 
clothes, and I had to direct her in all she did. I 
tried to teach her to make bread, but she simply 
said she never had baked a loaf in her life, and she 
thought she was too old to learn now, so I had to 
bake the bread, pies, and cake, and help to set the 
table always. I had to cook beefsteaks, chops, 
and joints; iu fact, I considered her incapable 
of completing anything she undertook. If she 
minded the baby, she did it faithfully and well— 
feeding him, tossing him, walking around with 
him—anything to amuse and keep him quiet; 
but the rest of the children- might have been in 
Van Dieman’s Laud for any knowledge she would 
have been capable of imparting as to their where¬ 
abouts. In short, I found her to be the most onc- 
thing-at-a-time person I ever saw. “Peggy,” I 
said to her one day, “ when you lived with the 
mistress in Ireland, what kind of work did you 
do ?”—“ Well, ma’am, Mistress Jackson had a large 
farm, and an illegant stone house, and it was not 
the likes of me that would be after sweeping her 
flue carpets and bedrooms, so I jest attended to 
