Women Make the 
Homes. 
Woman And The Home. 
Homes Make the 
Nation. 
CAMP LIFE IN A FARM HOUSE. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
IX. 
When the end of September came and we had to break 
camp to return home, gloom settled down upon the 
campers. 
“I don’t see why we can’t forever live In this care free 
way!” mournfully remarked Anaximander. 
‘‘Your favorite author, St. Paul,” replied Madame, ‘‘said, 
that when in Rome we must do as do the Romans, and we 
are going back to Rome where we shall spend five times as 
much as we have here—and I have kept an account to the 
final penny of our camp expenses—and to no end of other 
annoyances from ‘ help.’ We will leave the camp equi¬ 
page behind us as an excuse to bring us back next 
year! But be consoled, good sir, at the state of our finan¬ 
ces, and reflect upon the fact that we have saved money 
enough, to say nothing of health and good temper, to 
give us a jaunt to Nova Zembla or to the North Pole.” 
So we packed our trunks, and departing, left the house 
keys with Martha so that she could enter and set the 
abandoned camp in order for decency’s sake. 
When we reached home, everything was so lovely to the 
eye, that we wondered how we could ever have left so charm¬ 
ing a spot for otherwhere. And how luxurious, by con¬ 
trast, everything seemed! And how everything had grown, 
the trees and vines an I shrubs and flowers! And the house 
was just as nice as on the day on which we left it, which 
was a great comfort. 
“ Now the first thing, I suppose,” sighed the head of the 
house, as next morning he stood hat in hand, ready to go 
into the city, “ is to go to an employment bureau and get 
a cook. The gardener is a Scotch Presbyterian and the 
cook will be a Roman Catholic, and they will tear each 
other’s eyes out!” 
“ If they only would!” I laughed. “ We might have 
Home Rule in the kitchen for once! But try to find a 
Protestant.” 
But the Protestant market was dull, and the servants of 
that persuasion were averse to going out of the city on 
that day, at least; so a stout, middle-aged Roman Cath¬ 
olic was sent out, who informed me upon her arrival that 
she knew how to do ‘‘anny and iverything.” Then she 
added: ‘‘Ofcoorse the gintleman’s linen will be sint to 
the laundry ?” She was a cook, and “ cooks was very 
scarce now, and hard to git.” 
“And why hev ye no kairpet on the kitchen floor ?” she 
ejaculated, querulously, looking at the smoothly-oiled 
floor, and sending a look around the sunny room with its 
great windows, its polished wood-work and its “ivery con- 
vanience.” “ I’m afraid that I’ll be a getting a rheumatiz 
here!” 
For her first day’s work I directed her to thoroughly 
clean all the cooking utensils. 
“Utinsils? and what are them, mum?” she asked, in 
astonishment. Later, I sent her to the bath-room to pol¬ 
ish the faucets. “ And indade, mum, I looked iverywhere 
but I could find none.” And when I further explained, 
she cried, “Och ! and it’s the spiggits ye mane.” 
I gave her a recipe in a cook book to follow in preparing 
a certain dish; when she said she didn’t know how to 
read, and asked me to read it to her, which I did, end 
ing with, “ Bake in a shallow pan.” “ And what is that, 
mum, a shallopan ? ” She inquired for the lard pot, 
and upon being informed that I used no lard in the 
cooking she looked aghast, saying that she thought it 
was “ no livin’ at all ” without a “ foine pot of lard 
in the house.” When she was told that we dined at six 
o’clock she announced that that did not suit her—it was 
so very “ inconvanient ” to have the big dinner at night, 
but she seemed to see a point in my remark, which was to 
the effect that we kept house for our own “ convanience,” 
and were not in the habit of consulting our servants as to 
the hour we ought to dine 1 When she had progressed far 
enough with the work to give the range a thorough clean¬ 
ing, she asked for stove blacking, and I remarked : “ You 
are to keep the top of the range clean by washing it, and 
never by putting any blacking on it. The top of a cooking 
stove or range should be clean, like the top of a table, and 
blacking is filthy stuff,” etc., etc. This evidently was a 
kind of finishing stroke to my peculiarities, and she un¬ 
mistakably took me to be a lunatic, whose directions were 
not worth heeding, for when I next invaded her domain 
she had the range as black on the top as her soul desired. 
The gardener hardly passed a word with her, eating his 
meals in silence and leaving the kitchen as soon as they 
were swallowed, and as the poor thing couldn’t read, she 
found her evenings very lonely, and announced at the end 
of a week that she was going “ to lave,” which was quite 
in keeping with my wish, although she was a good worker 
and very tidy. The experiences of that week afforded us 
immense amusement—Wilfrid in particular going off into 
spasms of laughter when at the dinner table the kitchen 
occurrences of the day were reeled off for the edification of 
the master of the house. 
“And what will you do now?” queried Anaximander after 
the cook had departed. “ You had better go into town and 
see about one yourself.” 
“ Oh, I’m too tired,” I pleaded, “ you send out another, 
but see that she can read. Our trials have only begun, 
you must rememberl Our neighbors G-have their 27th 
cook for this year so far, and, maybe, we—” 
Such a look of dismay passed over Anaximander’s face 
at the possibility of continued annoyance and unsettle- 
ment in our household staff, that I wound up my remark 
with an unpremeditated flourish of fun, which appeared 
to illuminate his face for the entire day, as he came home 
with an amused expression, saying: 
“ I’ve hired another cook ; a perfect treasure this time.” 
Then followed a volley of questions. Was she young ? 
Was she a Protestant or a Roman Catholic ? Could she 
read, and would she require a feather bed to sleep on, and 
a Turkish rug for the kitchen floor, etc., etc. 
“ I didn’t ask if she could read ; I forgot that. But she 
Is not young, and is a Roman Catholic, but she said she 
bothered nobody about her religion, and seemed so good- 
natured and sensible that I thought she would suit us.” 
So next day Ann came, little and old, half toothless, com¬ 
fortably clad in black, with a crazy-looking bunch of 
faded cloth flowers on the top of her bonnet, which seemed 
at home, however, on her neatly arranged white hair. 
But as the days went by, Anaximander once inquired at 
night how the cook got on and received my reply: 
“ Oh, Ann’s a perfect treasure ! We never had a servant 
her equal! She’s ideal! Everything runs as smoothly as 
clockwork ! The gardener loves her like a mother ! She 
wastes nothing; is tidy, quiet, respectful; perfectly con¬ 
tented ; a good cook; wears her cap and white apron 
proudly; never is ill; goes early to bed ; has the meals on 
time. Why I could trust the world with Ann. She is too 
good! Such perfection can’t last, I’m sure,” He assented 
with a “maybe!” adding quizzically, “Do you think 
that upon occasions she might become slightly hilarious?” 
So, whenever Ann’s occasional visits to her “sister” in 
the city cover several days instead of one, for which she 
only arranges, and she returns looking haggard and piti¬ 
ful, expressing deep gratitude at getting home again to 
her pretty room and clean bed, giving “lame” excuses for 
her prolonged stay, I ask no questions and manifest no 
suspicions. She quietly resumes her old-time methodical 
ways; and paradise reigns until the time comes when 
she must go to see her “poor old sister.” The best we 
could do was to prevail upon her to allow us to retain a 
certain amount of her month’s wages to be placed in 
the bank, which she assented to and even came to insist 
upon. Poor old Ann. 
THE END. 
TWO BRIGHT ENTERTAINMENTS. 
I N a prize series of articles now being published in the 
bright, vivacious little Housekeepers’ Weekly, are two 
descriptions of evening entertainments. The first is called 
a pot pourri. The ingredients of this delightful “ hotch¬ 
potch”—as the French-English dictionary has it—were 
literature, representing rose leaves; amusement, repre¬ 
senting spice; service, representing salt. 
The literary part was merely a sort of mental gym¬ 
nastics ; the gentleman representing some author’s work, 
seeking among the ladies for the one who had represented 
the author of it. If he did not happen to know the author 
his task was not easy, and failure meant forfeit. A forfeit 
required of one young man who could not guess the author 
who “ belonged ” to him was that he was obliged to let the 
lady do all the talking for 15 minutes. 
“Service” consisted in having the gentlemen, who had 
not been fore-armed, hem aprons previously provided by 
the ladies, ready basted. Each gentleman selected a scrap 
of ribbon, matched it with a be-ribboned apron, and was 
assigned to the young lady wearing it, for help or torture, 
according to her disposition. 
The Knights of the Apron afterward attended these 
ladies to the dining-room to partake, among other things, 
of pot-pourri cake, a mixed confection containing icing 
nuts, raisins, jelly, cocoanut, etc., while tiny pot-pourri 
sachets were laid at each plate. The “amusement” be¬ 
tween literature and service consisted of amusing games. 
The second description was from our own valued corres¬ 
pondent, Myra V. Norys. The entertainment was for a 
Chautauqua circle. Invitation cards were first sent out, 
having a sketch of a date fruit in one corner, headed “An 
Important Date,” and containing a list of selected dates 
covering outlines of English history, with a hint to freshen 
up on those dates, and appear at Mrs. L.’s on the import¬ 
ant date noted. The dates referred to King Alfred, Rich¬ 
ard Cceur de Lion, Elizabeth and her suitors, the Boston 
Tea Party, the charming Victoria and others. Fancy caps 
bearing each a date in a prominent position, assigned each 
his evening’s work, and made him charming or ridiculous 
in the sight of the rest. Time was allowed for conference, 
after which each was obliged to give as brief and bright a 
resum6 as possible of the period or character suggested by 
his date and topic. 
A solo, and 15 minutes’ conversation followed this divi¬ 
sion of the entertainment, after which the members gave 
readings from choice poems by American authors : “ The 
Courtin’,” “ Was he Henpecked ?” “ The Huguenot Lov¬ 
ers,” “ The Legend Beautiful ” were some of these. The 
company then sang the history rhyme, “ First William the 
Norman, then William his Son,” fitted to familiar music, 
and also a medley in chorus. 
Refreshments consisted simply of “ Date Puffs,” nut 
patties, frosted and dated to correspond with the caps, 
cream dates, “ peach blossom cake,” and lemonade. We 
have given simply the chief points; our readers can easily 
adapt either of these entertainments to their needs, vary¬ 
ing the details, and we think either of them will insure a 
delightful evening. 
$ 5 . 00 ; $ 3 . 00 ; $ 2 . 00 . 
OUR ECONOMY PRIZES. 
W E do not want to have the mails over-burdened with 
the unheard of number of manuscripts sent in 
competition, so that Uucle Samuel will be put to un¬ 
necessary trouble to provide men to handle the mail ; but 
we do want to know the best ideas of practical economy 
which our readers are putting into daily use. Talk is 
cheap; the only question of interest and value with regard 
to theory or scheme is: “ Will it work ?” If you have 
plans that work, those are the ones we want to hear about. 
Be brief and to the point. 
Why not Add the Scissors ?—The suggestion in a re¬ 
cent Issue of The R. N.-Y. that housekeepers should keep 
their knives in cutting order was a good one, and I 
would like to ask why not include the scissors ? I wor¬ 
ried over dull scissors many a time before 1 learned to 
sharpen them myself. My husband attempted to put 
them in good order, but, not knowing how, nearly ruined 
them. An old man came to our home and offered to sharpen 
my dull scissors. I gladly accepted the offer, but 
begged him to teach me how to do it. I watched him 
place the beveled edge of one side of the scissors on the 
# grindstone and give the latter a few turns. He treated 
the other beveled edge in the same way, then shut the 
scissors carefully together, and a fine wire curled off the 
edges. In less than three minutes the work was done, 
and a pair of scissors keen enough to suit a tailor, 
was the result. Nothing difficult about that and no 
need of my using dull cutters any more. s. E. H. 
We call for criticisms and suggestions regarding S. A. 
Little’s “ Castle in Spain.” The convenience of the 
kitchen touches the very life of every housewife. If this 
plan can be bettered—and what plan cannot ?—we are sure 
its author will be the first to render thanks to the 
“ woman with an idea.” 
* * * 
We are greatly obliged to the medical gentleman who 
tries to solve May Maple’s hygienic doubts—if we may call 
them so. But through him we are become doubters also, 
and in this wise: We doubt whether any statements 
founded on “ altogether likely,” and “ probably ” as a 
premise, will stand much of a test, and we should not be 
much surprised if May should demolish some of those 
probable premises. We will say, however, that we believe 
in hygienic living, in fresh air, etc., and we don't believe 
in six by-six rooms without ventilation, nor, we are 
assured, does May Maple. 
* * * 
The editorial suggestion as to women learning to sharpen 
knives, alluded to in “ Why Not Add the Scissors ? ” was 
limited to knives merely from the fact that scissors are 
more difficult to sharpen satisfactorily. We have been 
taught from childhood that none but an expert should ever 
attempt to improve the cutting power of these double- 
edged tools; and especially that the grindstone should 
never be used for that purpose. We find, however, that 
professional itinerant “ scissors-grinders ” are always fur¬ 
nished with a grindstone (probably a fine one), and as a 
matter of fact, we always sharpen our own scissors, except 
on the rare occasions when we deliver them over to one of 
these travelers. As the pair which we are now using 
most have been subjected to such treatment for several 
years, and are still possessed of sufficient temper and edge 
to be used in hair cutting, we do not consider that we have 
injured them. Our chief rule in sharpening them is not 
to change the direction of the bevel. We follow our braver 
sister and echo : “ Why not add the scissors ? ” 
One cent will mail this paper to your friend 
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your name on the corner. 
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