1807 .] 
AMKRICAN AGRICrjRTURTST, 
295 
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(.tW~ fm- other Iloutehoia Jterne, fee “Baeket " pages.) 
Dashes at House-Keeping with a Free 
Pencil. 
PBIZB B88AT BT MI8S EVA M. COLLINS, BOCHESTEB. 
We have been canning fruit all day—plums, 
peaches, and pineapples. The latter were not set 
down In the programme for to-day. Aunt Mary 
brought us a half bushel after we had got well 
started with the peaches and plums. She said they 
were very ripe, and besides she wanted to attend to 
their canning herself, so if Riilph could be detailed 
for her special service in the back kitchen, she 
should be exactly suited. They require so much 
cooking to make them tender, he would be able 
not only to keep enough pared and sliced ahead, 
but assist her in putting them into the bottles. 
Aunt Mary has been telling us about a ‘‘Fruit Dry¬ 
ing House,” which she says we ought to have, as 
it would not be a quarter the trouble to prepare 
fruit in that, that It Is to can enough to last the 
year around. There are a number of sises In oper¬ 
ation, from one intended for use In a small family, 
to one of sufficient size where fruit drying is made 
a special business for market. Father says, ‘‘just 
as mother says,” so probably we shall have one. 
Most of the berries, cherries, plums and pears, are 
as good for common use when.drled, as canned, and 
g^een com and many other vegetables are better 
so prepared. Father thinks the expense of a Drying 
House would soon be met by the saving of cans. 
Paring fuzzy peaches all day Is nervous work, so 
I bagged an exchange with Mary for an hour or 
two, and scalded the milk-room shelves. 
Annt Mary came Into the inilk-roora while I was 
scalding the shelves, and described a milk-rack 
which Uncle Charles recently brought home for 
her to use as a provision stand, which would be 
very useful, fo^ us, when, as on this occasion, we 
set the milk. It is a circular wire work of shelves, 
6 In number. Aunt Mary says her ruck stands in 
the center of her store-room, between the windows. 
She has It covered with a mosquito net, which read¬ 
ily arlmits the air, while doing its duty in keeping 
out insects. I can readily understand that the 
cream would rise much better in the rack than 
on shelves, as Annt Mary describes, because we 
always find that, however thick, and firm, and gold¬ 
en the cream may be In the front of the pan, which 
has access to the air, that on the opposite side of 
the pan Is thin, soft, and white, in comparison. 
The action of the atmosphere would effect as great 
a miracle over the entire pun, when In the rack, as 
at present it does In the fore part of our milk pans, 
08 they stand upon their shelves. 
To-day, mother remarked that she learned some¬ 
thing of value from every one she knew; so we 
set our wits to work, conjuring up some most in¬ 
corrigible specimens of humanity; but, to our sur¬ 
prise, we found mother was right even In this, 
which we all thought a wonderfully wild remark 
for her. Old blind Pierre taught us years ^o to 
leave out a portion of the coffee, until just as the 
coffee pot was removed from the stove, in order to 
secure the fragrance as well as strength of the bev¬ 
erage. Eveu the old woman whom we took Into 
the house and employed during the great snow 
storm, and then sent on her way rejoicing in a com¬ 
fortable wardrobe, besides her wages, because she 
was so very destitute, and who the next day 
sold our tea through the village, mother says, 
taught us two vslnable lessons. One lesson was to 
let the tea toast In a warm place for fifteen minutes 
before steeping, and the other, to be more watch¬ 
ful of stragglers, and the tea chest. 
We thought this case the climax, until Jennie 
suggested, ‘‘Ike, mother, what did Ike do?” As 
mother hesitated a moment, and the case seemed 
rather dubious, I asked Jennie “ Who made her 
first wish-bone doll ?” Ralph said this was not ad¬ 
missible, for mother said ‘‘lessons of value;” but 
he might better have let the wish-bone doll pass 
nuchallcngcd, for mother turned to him immedi¬ 
ately and said, ‘‘Ike hung the south woodshed 
door, which you know was impossible to be done 
with those heavy hinges, and we have no more sub¬ 
stantially hung door, or gate, on the premises than 
that.” Ralph gathered up the peach skins, and re¬ 
plenished the dishes all around, and before we had 
got ready to work again. Aunt Mary came with the 
pipeapples, so no more cases were brought forward. 
After wo were all at work ag.iin, grandmother told 
mo ‘‘ It was only those persons who hud their eyes 
and ears open, who picked up valuable lessons from 
every one about them. Many persons go through 
the whole course of their existence without learn¬ 
ing much, except what is forced upon them through 
their own experience, and those persons rarely 
profit eveu by such lessons.” 
Leaves from My Journal.—No. VI. 
PBIZB E3SAT BY MBS. B. M’CLELLAN, OF OHIO. 
Auffust .—How much watching and care everything 
about house requires these sultry days! Mould 
gathers here and there, for there is moisture not¬ 
withstanding the heat. Mildew and blight take one 
by surprise. These are gala days for insects, spi¬ 
ders and flies. Brooms, brushes, and suds, are in 
good demand. Where does all the dust come from 
in the darkened and closed rooms? A house with 
good elevation, not too closely surrounded with 
trees and shrubbery, is far healthier now. I won¬ 
der if we don’t greatly mistake here, filling our 
yards too full of trees, and covering houses and 
porches with too many vines. They are beautiful, 
and the shade grateful, but would not more of the 
free sunlight and air of heaven make all purer 
within ? The flowers are In their glory. Dahlias 
thre;iten to outvie the roses. I have great respect 
for dahlias ! They so faithfully fulfill their mission. 
Till the heavy frosts come, they will never weary 
mounting one tier of blossoms above another, per¬ 
fect in form, and varied with every color. I made 
a great mistake with verbenas; I tried to grow 
them in the same bed with dahlias, and thought 
they would look finely together. But the poor 
things, like the frog in the fable, tried so hard to 
be like their aspiring neighbors, climbing hither 
and yon, that though they could not after all be¬ 
come dahlias, they certainly were not verbenas in 
any way flattering to their kind—putting out only 
a profusion of large, coarse leaves, and here and 
there a stniggling, puny blossom. They want a bed 
to themselves, with the sun sliming full in their 
faces, where, in every variety of color, they loving¬ 
ly intertwine, serving only by contrast to show the 
rare beauty of each,—like two lovely sisters, the 
blonde and brunette, on the same parent stem. 
Is it, indeed, true! that, with the country filled 
with sewing machines, and so many other labor- 
saving Implements, we housekeepers are no nearer 
the ‘‘leisure time” we covet, than ever before? 
Our garments are so highly embroidered, so con¬ 
tinuously tucked and plaited with innumerable 
rows of stitching, that, though quickly done, there 
seems no end to the doing. Are we not misusing 
the price put into our hands to get wisdom ? Few 
housekeepers allow themselves time even to read 
the papers on their tables. There is ever another 
piece of work to be done, calls to bo made or re¬ 
ceived, unexpected company to be entertained, or 
invited friends to prepare for. There are demands 
outside of home, upon the time as well as charity 
of all. But after making full allowance for all 
these, can not an hour or half hour be secured for 
self improvement and culture, on subjects of more 
consequence than dress or the pleasures of the ta¬ 
ble ? How often have I resolved that to-morrow 
shall not be like to-day in this matter, only to see 
-to-morrow’s sun set upon broken promises of 
amendment. We are too much the slaves of fash¬ 
ion. Like the centurion to his servants, she says to 
one, come, and she cometh; to another, go, and 
she goeth; and still to another, do this, and she 
doeth it. But where shall the lino be drawn, be¬ 
yond which it Is not safe to venture ? Where is the 
blessed mean beyond the ever widening extremes ? 
Who shall point out the path In which our wayward, 
wandering feet may walk without stumbling? A 
friend said to me once, “ I should think I had lived 
long enough to find out th.at I never shall see the 
time that I have not plenty of work to do, and in¬ 
deed to feel hurried about.” Must we not then 
take time as it parses, for reading and corre.spoud- 
ence with friends or absent members of the family ? 
As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news 
from a far country.” We can not afford to lose 
such delightful refreshment. 
.1 made some pumpkin pies to-day. They are 
nice and fresh as those of last thanksgiving, and a 
real treat. The pumpkin was ‘stewed and dried 
upon plates. If these arc well greased it comes off 
without trouble. It must be kept in a tight bag in 
a dry place. Soak over night in milk before using, 
and prepare the same as when fresh. Hubbard 
squash prepared in this way, is excellent also. 
I make a variety of jellies. They are always ac¬ 
ceptable, and a great ornament to the table. 
Quinces, crab apples, and fall pippins, make the 
very best. Currant jelly should be made when the 
fruit Jir.tt ripens. After straining the juice, boil 
gently half an hour before adding the sugar, after 
which it needs little more. Cool a small quantity 
in a dish, before taking up, to see if it thickens. 
--——-- 
Leaves from the Diary of a Young House* 
keeper.—No. VIII. 
PIUZK ESSAY BT MRS. LAURA E. LYMAN, STAMFORD, CT, 
Aiigtt.U 3d.—For a week now, I have been pretty 
busy. The blackberries are ripe, and Sue and I have 
picked a good many, some of which I have dried, 
made several pounds into blackberry jam for winter 
use, and to-day, I made two to three bottles of cor¬ 
dial. For light cases of summer complaint, 1 know 
of nothing more agreeable or effectual. If I do 
not need it myself, some of my friends may, 
and there is nothing more pleasant than to have 
it in one’s power to relieve the sufferings of 
friends, and add to their happiness. How grateful, 
in that long spell of fever I had two years ago, 
were the kind attentions of our neighbors ! How 
I relished the various delicacies they sent in to 
tempt my appetite after I began to convalesce! 
Ajcgmt 1th. —To-day I commenced drying corn 
for next winter. We have had it on the table sev¬ 
eral days, but it is just coming in abundantly. I 
boil it about ten minutes, then cut it off the cob 
and spread it on a board to dry, covering it with a 
piece of fly netting. Edward relished that mother 
sent me last winter so much, that I mean to have a 
plenty laid by in store. 
Atujuft Ihth .—The weather for a month past has 
been very sultry and oppressive, i\nd some of the 
time very hot, so that my enterprise of converting 
the milk, of which we have a great deal, into cheese 
instead of butter, proves to have been very timely. 
I have now twelve cheeses which I keep on a new, 
clean shelf in the milk-room. The little milk and 
cream that I appropriate for butter, I keep on the 
swinging shelf at the north end of the cellar. I 
have a great curiosity to know how my cheeses are 
going to taste. They look to my eyes very tempt¬ 
ing, and I count them over every day, when I turn 
them and rub them, much as a miser would twenty 
dollar gold pieces, and they are almost of the color. 
A-iigitf^t have been putting up peaches. 
Edward has been helping me, for the stress of farm 
work that has been on him ever since the middle 
of April, has relaxed a little at last, as haying and 
harvesting are over. In the preparation ot my 
canned peaches, I followed a recipe that I found in 
a bound volume of the Afjviciilt'uvist for 1860. I 
think it is the same one mother went by last year, 
and her peaches were splendid. She brought me a 
couple of cans when she came to visit me in June. 
As I have plenty of other preserves, I canned all 
my peaches, for I think, generally speaking, peach 
preserves are too rich to be wholesome. 
Edward says 1 must go visiting a few days, that 
I am quite too enthusiastic a farmer’s wife. But 
how can I be otherwise, when he is so industrious 
and laborious, and makes every edge cut on the 
