1870 .] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
105 
THIS M©tC®EIHI©m 
(B® - For other Household Items, see “Basket ” pages.) 
Library Steps. 
Modern furniture at best, is not very strong, and 
soon becomes worn out even with the most careful 
usage. Nothing brings a chair into that rickety 
stage which precedes dissolution, sooner than its 
frequent use as a substitute for a step ladder. It is 
the most convenient thing near at hand, if one 
wishes to take something from a high shelf, reach 
up to arrange a window 
curtain, or for any similar 
purpose. Step ladders are 
not convenient to keep 
always at hand, and there 
is generally more or less 
trouble in arranging 
them. The house-furnish¬ 
ing stores sell what are 
called library steps, li£e 
those represented in the 
engraving. A tall stool 
has a strong iron rod con¬ 
necting two of its legs. 
This rod supports two 
library steps. steps, which are of such a 
size, that, when not in use, they can be readily 
turned back, to occupy the space between the legs, 
and the affair takes up no more room than a 
stool. Those in the stores are made of black-wal¬ 
nut, with the steps and the top covered with pieces 
of carpeting. Such a piece of furniture, which any 
amateur workman can make, will be found very 
convenient, and save much wear and tear of chairs. 
Nice Dishes that all Farmer-Folks caa 
have. 
BY MRS. “n. M. R.,” MONTOUR CO., PA. 
-a- 
The question, What shall we do for a change? is 
one which often vexes the housewife, and many 
times is not so easily answered, especially among a 
certain class of farmers (and a pretty large class 
too), who feel that they must make the products 
of their own farm furnish variety for the table. 
Among this class, apples are the “stand-by” for 
fruit, and in nine families out of ten they seldom, 
if ever, conic to the table in but two ways, viz.: 
between two lard crusts, and stewed. I give a few 
recipes for preparing this esteemed fruit, which, 
when once tried, will not, I think, be willingly aban¬ 
doned_Take easy-cooking, tart apples; pare, and 
with a narrow-bladed knife remove the core; after 
they are all served in this way, place on a tin plate, 
the stem or blossom end down, and fill the hole, left 
by removing the core, with sugar; drop three or four 
drops of water (flavored with lemon, if you choose) 
on the sugar in each apple, and set in the oven 
and bake until done, which will be in about three- 
fourths of an hour, if your oven is right. Remove 
to an earthen plate as soon as done, which should 
be fifteen or twenty minutes before serving. These 
are excellent with meat dinners, or, eaten alone 
with cream and sugar, they make a very nice des¬ 
sert_Some persons consider sweet apples of lit¬ 
tle use in the kitchen, but when properly prepar¬ 
ed,! think they are nearly as good as peaches. Pare, 
quarter, and core, nice sweet apples, put them in 
an earthen or new tin dish and set in the steamer 
and steam until done, which can be told by trying 
with a fork. Serve, when cold, with cream and su¬ 
gar. Do not forget to steam and can some before 
they are all gone, so that you .can have them next 
spring when other fruit is scarce_ Apple Pud¬ 
ding.— Set as much stale bread in the oven as will 
make a pint of crumbs. When it is brittle enough 
to roll, remove, and rail very fine. Take four me¬ 
dium-sized tart apples, pare, quarter, and core, cut¬ 
ting each quarter into four pieces by cutting it in 
two, both lengthwise and crosswise. Then take one 
quart and a gill of new milk, the yolks of four 
eggs, one cup of sugar, butter the size of an egg, 
melted, a little salt, and spice to your taste. Beat 
the butter, eggs, and sugar together, and stir in 
with them all the other ingredients. Bake in the 
same dish in which it goes to the table, unless 
brought to the table in small dishes. Before re¬ 
moving from the oven, beat the white of the eggs 
with a half cup of sugar to a stiff froth and spread 
over your pudding, and, when “ set,” remove from 
the oven. To be eaten, when nearly cold, with 
cream_ Apple Jonathan. —Pare, quarter, and 
core enough tart apples for two layers over the bot¬ 
tom of a deep, square pie-tin, cuttiug each quarter 
in two, sprinkle with a little sugar. Then take one 
coffee-cupful of sour cream, one of buttermilk, a 
teaspoonful of saleratus, a pinch of salt, and flour 
enough to make a batter as stiff as will pour. Stir 
all well together aud pour over the apples, and 
bake until done, Turn out of the baking tin 
on to a platter, and serve with cream and sugar. 
-- ---*<?■—-- -- 
* A Home Letter. 
BY FAITH ROCHESTER. 
Dear Mary :—I have been thinking this morn¬ 
ing about the inhuman way in which mothers are 
overworked. Did you read a letter from one such 
woman in the October number of the Agriculturist? 
I hope that was a fictitious letter, [It was not. Ed.] 
but you and I both know real cases just as sad. 
The thought of them always gives me a heart-ache. 
There was an excellent reply to that letter in the 
December number, but I felt, in reading it, that the 
writer had not been so deeply impressed as I was 
with the fact that the “overworked farmer’s wife ” 
had three little children, “ none of them old enough 
to be of any service.” That means, three little 
ones to hinder the work of a housekeeper. But 
how about the work of a mother ? Preachers and 
poets tell us that no work is so important. In¬ 
deed, everybody is saying so, now that women are 
supposed to be in danger of forsaking their babies 
for the ballot-box. If men really believed that the 
rearing of healthy and noble men and women was 
of more importance than the improvement of cat¬ 
tle and swine, don’t you think they would see to it 
that mothers had a fair chance to do their work 
well ? But you and I will not blame men for all the 
misery we see in the lot of woman. To that over¬ 
worked woman, and to all women, I say, let us all 
join hands and hearts in earnest efforts to discover 
just where the mischief lies, and to bring about a 
better state of things. We shall have to begin our 
investigations and labors close at home. 
Overwork is bad enough in any one—a species of 
suicide. Its effects are felt by so many others, in 
the case of a mother, that it is then especially de¬ 
plorable—yes, sinful. She has no right to make 
drafts upon the constitutional vigor of her unborn 
children. Did it ever occur to you what an awful 
power for good or evil rests with the mothers of the 
race? If from this hour each child born into the 
world could have a healthy, good, and wise mother, 
we should not have to wait long for the millenium. 
Fathers, however, must bear their share of respon¬ 
sibility for their children’s health and characters. 
Mothers are not independent of circumstances, 
and farmers should realize that the mothers of their 
children are entitled to at least as much care and 
consideration as they give their cows. 
Nursing babes suffer when their mothers get very 
weary. The quality of their food is impaired, and 
delicate children quickly show that something has 
gone wrong with them. Nothing in the world tires 
and worries me so much as to hear the call of my 
baby when my hands are so engaged that I cannot 
attend to its needs. Babies should be taught to 
rely upon themselves a good deal for amusement. 
It would be foolish to take them or feed them every 
time they ask it. If they are not suffering real dis¬ 
comfort, they can be easily diverted by a change of 
position or by a new plaything. Still, they need 
constant and wise attention. An ignorant nurse 
will not do at all. 
Are you interested in Kindergartens ? I am go¬ 
ing to find out all I can about Froebel’s system of 
infant education as soon as possible. With little 
ones already growing around me, there is no time 
to lose. If farmers need leisure to read agricul¬ 
tural papers and to attend clubs, surely mothers 
need equal opportunities for informing themselves 
about their peculiar duties, and the best methods 
of performing them. It used to be thought that 
any fool could be a farmer, just as now it seems 
generally supposed that maternal instinct, such as 
brute mothers share with us, is sufficient prepara¬ 
tion for motherhood. But you know that more 
than half of all the children born, die before tbe 
age of five years. When I look at the diseased 
and vicious specimens of men and women thrown 
upon the world, I am convinced that the first three 
years of a child’s life are more important to its 
character and destiny, than any other three years. 
In infancy every touch and tone, and all the scenes 
of daily life, have such a power upon the opening- 
faculties as they can never have again. Good farm¬ 
ers will not allow some men to have anything to do 
with their horses and cattle. Should not good 
mothers be equally careful with their children? 
When a mother cannot attend to her housework 
and her children too, the hired labor should be for 
the kitchen rather than for the nursery, unless she 
can be sure that the nurse employed is better qual¬ 
ified for the care of children than she is herself. 
This is sometimes the case. There are different 
gifts, you know. 
Then there are those little questioners, from two 
years old and upward. Nature keeps them all tbe 
time asking, “ What is it?” “ How ?” and “Why ?” 
Some wise and patient friend should be ever near 
at hand to guide their inquiring minds, and watch 
over the habits they are forming. Surely, the mother 
has the first right to this sacred and beautiful office, 
and to the best assistance her husband can render. 
Surely, the young women and girls yet to become 
mothers have a right to such education ns shall fit 
them to answer their children’s questions, about 
the trees, birds, and insects, the clouds and stars, 
and about the construction of their own bodies, 
and even the stones and weeds by the wayside. 
My little boy (not four years old, and not at all 
precocious, thank Heaven !) often drives me to the 
dictionary and encyclopedia, and to scientific books, 
by his most natural questions. It is no easy thing 
sometimes to fit the answer to his needs, telling 
him enough to satisfy his present curiosity and 
keep alive his interest in that line of observation, 
without burdening or straining his young mind at 
all. These little ones have no business with the 
alphabet, but need, instead, intelligent mothers. 
It is we who need books and lectures. “ Bring on 
your colleges — quick!” I sometimes cry, when 
Birdie’s innocent questions reveal my ignorance to 
me. Who more needs knowledge than a mother? 
Many mothers have all they can possibly do to 
provide for the common, physical needs of their 
children. They are so liarrassed by the cares of 
housekeeping that it seems almost impossible to 
listen to the children’s questions or complaints. 
They need our sympathy as much as do the children, 
if they fall into a way of scolding and threatening 
and slapping the little ones. They have no chance 
to become really acquainted with their children, 
among whom no two have the same disposition. 
The little boys and girls soon come to feel that 
mother does not understand them, and has no time 
to listen to their questions, experiences, and plans. 
They go somewhere else to find an intimate friend. 
Poor children ! and poor mother ! She needs them 
as much as they need her. 
The very little ones need a mother’s care aud 
counsel scarcely more than do the older children. 
It is not good human economy to use up the 
mothers in household labor, leaving families of boys 
and girls motherless at a most critical period of 
life, or with only a poor broken-down apology for 
a mother. The boys and girls just going out to 
mingle with the world, should have at home awise 
aud sympathizing friend, who knows what sort of 
an education they are getting from their schools and 
companions, and from the literature of the day. 
Don’t point me to our grandmothers, and say, 
that they had larger families and did even more 
work than the women of the present day. They 
