Articles  in  the  Present  Issue. 
N  the  cookery  and  teaching-  topics  we  present  this 
week  the  articles  which  pushed  the  prize  articles 
hardest.  Until  almost  the  last,  it  was  thought  that 
Miss  11  ray  ton’s  article  would  take  the  prize,  the  orig¬ 
inality  of  some  of  Miss  Jones’s  ideas  finally  giving  her 
the  preference.  *  *  * 
In  regard  to  “daintiness  of  dress”  and  of  handling 
the  subject,  G.  A.  II.  R.’s  article  was  decidedly  the 
best  of  all,  and  it  contains  many  sensible  ideas. 
*  *  * 
“  A  Western  Woman’s  Struggle  ”  will,  we  arc  sure, 
appeal  to  all.  It  was  not  allowed  to  compete  for  the 
prize,  because  not  written  by  the  woman  whose  story 
it  gives.  But  as  as  a  true  recital  of  a  brave  struggle 
it  is  perhaps  the  most  valuable  of  all,  as  well  as  the 
most  touching.  The  whole  story  can  be  made  plain 
only  by  the  transcript  of  a  few  lines  from  the  letter  of 
the  lady  who  gives  her  friend’s  story  as  told  to  her:  “She 
was  a  bright-eyed,  quick-witted,  nice-looking,  well- 
built,  attractive  young  woman.  I  know  the  surround¬ 
ings  of  the  lumber  business  personally,  and  I  fully  un¬ 
derstand  the  great  temptations  which  beset  her  in  her 
extreme  need.  But  she  never  listened  to  the  tempter. 
Not  only  by  the  rough-spoken  working  men,  but  also 
by  the  oily-tongued,  white-handed,  moneyed  “  bosses” 
she  might  have  been  led  down  the  flowery  path  which 
leads - -where? - had  she  not  chosen  that  harder 
way  which  has  brought  her  safely  to  a  good  home — 
the  respected  wife  of  a  true  man.  In  finishing  her 
story,  my  friend  said,  ‘  I  want  to  die  before  M.  does 
I  don’t  want  to  be  left  alone  again.’  ” 
A  Western  Woman’s  Struggle. 
MY  folks  were  very  poor.  When  I  was  17  I  married 
a  poor  man  and  came  with  him  to  this  place — a 
lumbering  town  of  about  1,500  inhabitants.  My  hus¬ 
band  was  honest  and  industrious.  He  worked  in  the 
saw-mill  in  summer,  and  in  winter  went  into  the  great 
pine  woods.  He  got  good  wages,  and  for  more  than 
six  years  all  went  well.  Then  his  health  failed,  and 
our  only  resource  was  gone.  (His  folks  were  as  poor 
as  mine).  The  doctors  said  he  had  consumption. 
Household  expenses  and  doctor’s  bills  would  soon  use 
up  the  little  sum  we  had  laid  by,  and  as  I  shudderingly 
looked  into  the  dark  future,  I  knew  that  I  must  be  the 
bread-winner  for  our  little  family.  We  had  lived  in  a 
pleasant  house,  and  on  holidays,  Sundays  and  rainy 
days — days  without  income — rent  was  always  accumu¬ 
lating.  My  first  step  was  to  find  a  cheaper  house. 
The  firm  for  which  my  husband  had  worked  faith¬ 
fully  for  12  years  allowed  us  to  move  into  one  of  their 
houses  where  rent  was  lower  ;  and  when,  at  the  end 
of  three  months,  I  went  with  money  to  pay  the  rent,  I 
was  met  with  the  remark,  “There  is  no  rent  due.” 
Thus  my  husband’s  worthy  past  lifted  one  burden  from 
my  shoulders,  and  gave  me  new  life  to  battle  with  the 
world  while  caring  for  my  dying  husband  and  our  two 
little  ones.  He  was  yet  able  to  be  around  the  house 
and  look  after  them.  I  had  obtained  work  in  a  board¬ 
ing-house  near  home  and  received  good  wages  for 
working  from  eight  in  the  morning  till  four  in  the 
afternoon.  During  those  long  summer  days  I  had  time 
mornings  and  evenings  to  care  for  my  house,  my 
children,  and  the  precious  one  whose  life  was  ebbing 
away  ;  though  he  never  gave  up  hope,  and  was  sure 
he  should  be  better  some  day. 
When  the  great  mills  close  in  the  fall,  the  men  are 
sent  into  the  pineries  and  the  boarding-houses  close. 
As  that  time  drew  near  I  was  puzzled  to  know  what  to 
do,  and  began  to  inquire  for  work  ;  for  I  must  lose  no 
time.  I  could  find  no  place  where  I  could  be  allowed 
any  spare  time  at  home.  I  concluded — after  a  hard 
struggle  with  my  feelings — that  I  must  take  in  wash¬ 
ing  ;  I  was  strong  and  well  and  would  be  at  home 
nearly  all  the  time.  I  soon  found  the  income  greater 
than  that  from  my  summer's  work.  But  the  ridicule 
at  times  made  my  heart  sad.  I  was  only  24  and  it  hurt 
me  to  hear  myself  called  “  The  old  wash-woman,”  or 
to  listen  to  the  remark,  “  The  wash- woman  is  at  the 
door  and  wants  to  see  you  yet,  when  I  thought  of 
that  sick  one  and  our  little  girls,  I  would  renew  the 
resolve  that  they  should  be  cared  for,  no  matter  what 
the  work  was,  if  it  were  only  respectable. 
Spring  came,  the  men  returned,  my  business  in¬ 
creased,  and  the  amount  I  earned  was  more  than  suf¬ 
ficient  for  our  support ;  I  was  soon  out  of  debt  and  had 
some  money  ahead.  I  sent  the  little  girls  to  school, 
and  I  could  not  help  feeling  glad  and  proud  that  I  had 
been  able  to  keep  my  little  family  together  while  my 
husband’s  life  drew  near  its  close. 
One  bright  May  afternoon,  when  I  came  back  from 
delivering  a  washing,  I  brought  home  some  delicacies 
for  our  table  and  said:  “Now,  Will,  we  can  have  a 
good  visit,  and  I  will  get  a  nice  supper  ”  ;  to  which  he 
answered  :  “  Oh,  Joey,  isn’t  it  too  bad  that  you  must 
work  hard,  and  I  am  sitting  around  only  making  it 
harder  for  you  instead  of  helping  ;  but,  Joey,  I  believe 
you  will  be  rewarded  ;  God  will  not  forget  it.” 
“Oh,  Will,  don’t  feel  bad;  don’t  talk  so,”  I  said. 
‘  You  worked  for  us  for  years,  and  I  am  only  doing  a 
wife’s  part.  Don’t  you  see  that  I  am  proving  that  a 
woman  can  earn  a  living  and  lay  up  money  if  she  has 
the  will  ?  ”  He  ate  a  nice  supper  with  us,  and  said  he 
felt  much  better  than  usual.  While  I  cleared  away 
the  dishes,  he  lay  on  the  lounge  resting  his  head  on 
our  little  girl’s  lap.  Then  I  helped  him  to  bed.  One 
thin,  white  hand  lay  near  the  edge  of  the  bed,  and  I 
gently  placed  it  on  his  breast  and  tucked  the  quilts 
around  him,  and  thus,  without  warning,  with  not  one 
struggle,  my  husband  died. 
After  the  funeral,  I  was  $25  in  debt.  What  should 
T  do  ?  Break  up  my  home  ?  No,  I  would  still  earn 
my  way,  and  keep  my  girls  in  school.  I  continued 
to  wash,  and  also  did  odd  jobs  which  came  in 
my  way.  I  earned  considerable  money  nursing  the 
sick.  For  cleaning  counting  rooms,  stores  and  private 
offices  I  got  $1.50  a  day,  and  was  invariably  treated 
with  respect  by  their  owners.  Fourteen  months  after 
my  husband  died,  my  children  and  I  were  supplied 
with  comfortable  clothing,  and  I  had  $75  in  money. 
Later,  a  prosperous  merchant  asked  me  to  be  his 
wife,  and  I  accepted  his  offer.  For  more  than  a  year, 
I  have  been  his  happy  wife  in  a  comfortable  home  sur¬ 
rounded  with  plenty.  Our  little  girls  have  enjoyed  ex¬ 
cellent  advantages,  thanks  to  their  kind  second  father. 
I  often  recall  the  prophetic  words  of  my  dying  hus¬ 
band,  and  I  feel  that  God  will  not  forget,  but  that 
kindness  and  purity  and  industry  will  have  their  re¬ 
ward.  MRS.  L.  H.  N. 
Dainty  Cookery  for  the  Farm  Table. 
FANCY  cookery  can,  in  a  measure,  quicken  the 
appetite  ;  but  why  may  we  not  all  possess  a 
fairly  good  article,  which  will  sit  down  with  us  to  our 
meals  ?  There  should  be  only  two  exceptions,  a  posi¬ 
tive  invalid,  and  a  dyspeptic.  For  the  first  it  is  not 
“  fancy  cookery”  that  is  needed,  but  “  cookery  for  the 
sick  room  for  the  second,  the  less  he  eats  the  better, 
and  fancy  cookery  would  only  aggravate  the  evil.  At 
our  house  nothing  is  eaten  between  meals,  even  by  the 
younger  portion  of  the  family,  except  fruit,  and  that 
in  small  quantities,  such  as  an  apple,  etc.  We  keep 
candies  on  hand,  but  they  are  doled  out  (using  the 
word  “  doled”  advisedly)  directly  after  meals,  and  do 
not  cloy  the  appetite.  Sunday  afternoon  is  the  time 
when  these  wise  rules  are  cast  aside,  and  then  the 
most  tempting  of  fancy  cookery  could  hardly  give  us  a 
zest  for  supper. 
The  only  time  I  delve  into  the  mysteries  of  the  fancy 
in  cooking  is  when  I  give  my  household  a  treat,  and 
then  it  generally  takes  the  place  of  more  substantial 
stuff  :  thus  “  good  digestion  waits  on  appetite.”  For 
instance,  instead  of  having  meat,  potatoes,  one  other 
kind  of  vegetable  and  pickles  for  dinner,  I  sometimes 
have  macaroni  and  cheese.  Just  this,  and  a  dish  of 
canned  fruit,  with  bread,  butter  and  water,  complete 
the  meal  ;  but,  remember,  the  main  dish  is  deliciously 
cooked  (so  my  husband  says)  the  water  does  not  stand 
on  the  table  from  the  laying  of  it,  but  is  brought  in, 
ice  cold,  the  last  thing,  and  the  bread,  butter  and  fruit 
are  the  best  of  their  kind.  We  are  very  fond  of  good 
soup,  but,  having  a  moderate  sized  family,  and  the 
weakness  of  keeping  two  dogs,  we  cannot  make  stock. 
So,  because  we  cannot  afford  both  time  and  money  for 
soup,  then  the  meat  course,  then  dessert,  we  make  a 
dinner  off  soup,  then  dessert.  A  can  of  salmon,  heated 
by  being  plunged  into  a  stew-pan  of  boiling  water, 
while  in  the  tin  (a  hole  being  previously  punched  in 
the  top  to  allow  the  steam  to  escape)  and  kept  there 
half  an  hour,  then  turned  out  on  a  platter,  nicely  gar¬ 
nished  with  hard-boiled  eggs  and  served  with  egg 
sauce,  makes  a  welcome  change  from  meat.  Another 
use  for  a  can  of  salmon  is  as  croquettes.  These  make  a 
can  go  twice  as  far  and  are  twice  as  nice  as  the  plain 
salmon,  of  which  we  are  very  tired. 
The  English  are  noted  for  requiring  a  particular 
kind  of  vegetable  on  the  table  with  each  kind  of  meat, 
and  they  are  quite  right.  Turnips  seem  to  have  been 
made  for  roast  goose,  duck  and  mutton,  the  flavor 
blends  so  well.  With  a  roast  of  beef  they  do  not  go 
badly,  but  to  dish  them  up  with  fish  or  chickens,  as  I 
have  seen  at  some  houses!  Lamb,  although  such  a 
near  relation  of  mutton,  quite  turns  its  back  on  turnips 
and  seems  to  taste  like  lamb  only  when  served  with 
green  peas,  beans,  or  a  cool  lettuce  salad.  Boiled 
parsnips  and  drawn  butter,  or  corn  seem  Monsieur 
Turkey’s  right-hand  men,  and  so  on  through  the  long 
list  of  vegetables  and  meats. 
The  Chief  Cook  is  right  in  crying  out  for  variety, 
but  it  seems  to  me  that  the  changing  seasons  bring 
enough  variety;  there  are  so  many  ways  of  cooking 
each  vegetable,  fruit  and  meat.  If  this  is  called  fancy 
cookery,  then  I  say  it  does  not  add  to  the  burdens  of 
the  busy  housewife;  outside  of  this,  speaking  from  my 
own  experience,  the  busy  housewife  cannot  afford  the 
time,  unless  she  adopts  my  plan  and  shunts  off  for  a 
meal  to  a  fancy  dish,  and  then  back  again  to  the 
standard  meat  and  vegetables. 
A  most  important  point  is  to  put  our  whole  culinary 
talent  into  the  every-day  dishes;  the  kettle  should 
stand  empty  till  time  to  make  the  tea,  and  the  tea 
must  be  made  just  as  soon  as  the  water  comes  to  its 
first  hard  boil.  I  prefer  soft  water  for  coffee  only, 
and  like  tea  made  from  hard.  We  want  our  coffee  so 
extravagantly  made  that,  out  of  consideration  for  the 
family  purse,  I  have  it  only  for  Sunday  morning’s 
breakfast.  When  boiling  potatoes  I  put  as  much 
thought  into  them  as  if  they  were  a  pate  de  foie  gras, 
and  feel  quite  a  sad  failure  as  a  cook,  if  they  do  not 
come  to  the  table,  each  a  ball  of  flour.  As  for  in¬ 
creasing  the  expenses,  fancy  cookery  does  not  do  so 
of  necessity.  Even  to  make  our  plain,  every-day 
dishes  tasty,  butter  must  be  put  on  with  a  generous 
hand.  Nothing  improves  cooked  vegetables  like  but¬ 
ter;  it  is  the  making  of  stewed  tomatoes. 
The  way  I  make  use  of  the  Woman  and  Home 
Department  in  The  Rural,  and  kindred  departments 
in  other  papers,  is  to  read  them  through,  and  then, 
knowing  their  contents,  to  run  over  the  columns 
quickly  and  make  a  memorandum  of  the  page  and 
volume  of  anything,  either  cooking  or  other  hints, 
which  I  think  will  be  of  use  to  me.  This  I  put  in  a 
box  which  I  keep  for  the  purpose.  When  I  have  time  I 
go  to  my  box,  look  through  my  memoranda,  see  which 
one  I  want,  turn  to  the  page  and  volume,  and  try  the 
recipe  If  I  conclude  it  is  good  enough,  I  copy  it  into 
a  blank  book  kept  for  such  recipes  and  destroy  the 
memorandum.  Two  tried  recipes  added  to  one’s  reper¬ 
toire  every  six  months  count  for  a  good  deal  if  one 
does  not  ignore  the  old  dishes.  G.  A.  h.  r. 
Variety  and  Dainty  Cookery. 
IN  the  course  of  10  years’  experience,  I  have  learned, 
1 ,  that  farmers  have  good  appetites,  unless  spoiled 
with  too  much  sweets  and  rich  cooking  ;  2,  that  fancy 
dishes,  because  not  substantial,  do  not  satisfy  ;  3,  that 
they  increase  expense  because  the  substantials  must 
be  prepared  also  ;  and,  4,  that  they  use  up  much  of  the 
time  and  strength  of  the  housewife. 
I  depend  on  these  to  give  variety  to  our  bill  of  fare, 
that  it  may  be  pleasing  and  easily  served. 
From  the  contents  of  my  cellar  now  I  can  have  cab¬ 
bage,  plain,  boiled  or  salad;  celery,  cooked  or  raw  ; 
onions,  boiled  or  fried  with  steak ;  beans,  baked, 
boiled  or  in  soup ;  beets,  boiled  or  pickled ;  squash, 
steamed  or  baked  ;  potatoes,  boiled,  baked,  mashed, 
escalloped,  stewed,  fried  or  in  soup.  We  do  not  like 
tomatoes  or  turnips,  which  would  add  more  variety. 
In  summer  we  have  also  asparagus,  green  peas,  corn, 
cucumbers,  radishes  and  lettuce.  In  fruit  time  we 
use  much  fresh  fruit ;  now  there  are  apples,  which  are 
used  in  many  ways,  and  canned  goods ;  spiced  cherries, 
peaches,  pears  and  currants  ;  pickled  green  tomatoes, 
cauliflower,  cucumbers  and  mixed  pickles  and  jellies. 
For  meat,  there  is  the  farmer’s  standby,  pork.  Ham 
can  be  broiled,  fried  or  boiled,  and  little  remnants 
make  nice  croquettes,  while  the  bones  add  an  excellent 
We  do  not  know  why  Scott’s  Emulsion 
of  cod-liver  oil  is  so  useful  in  those  simple 
but  varied  conditions  which  you  know  as 
“having  a  cough.”  We  cannot  explain 
it :  we  only  know  the  fact  from  experience. 
It  may  be  due  to  the  combination  of 
tonic  effects  of  cod-liver  oil  and  the  hypo- 
phosphites  ;  it  may  be  partly  due  to  the 
glycerine.  There  are  many  effects  in 
medical  practice  the  causes  of  which 
appear  to  be  plain,  but  how  those  causes 
produce  those  effects  we  do  not  know 
at  all. 
Scott  &  Bowne,  Chemists,  132  South  5th  Avenue,  New  York. 
Your  druggist  keeps  Scott’s  Emulsion  of  cod-llver  oil— all  druggists 
everywhere  do  $1 
