A MODEL CHILD. 
Her temper’s always sunny, herhair is ever neat; 
She doesn’t care tor candy—she says it is too 
sweet! 
She loves to study lessons—her sums are always 
right; 
And she gladly goes to bedat8every single night! 
Her apron’s never tumbled, her hands are always 
clean; 
With buttons missing from her shoe she never 
has been seen. 
She remembers to say “Thank you,” and “ Yes, 
ma’am, if you please;” 
And she never cries, nor frets, nor whines; she’s 
never been known to tease. 
Each night upon the closet shelf she puts away 
her toys; 
She never slams the parlor door, nor makes the 
slightest noise; 
But she loves to run on errands and to play with 
little brother, 
And she’s never in her life been known to disobey 
her mother. 
“ Who is this charming little maid ? 
I long to grasp her hand ! ” 
She’s the daughter of Mr. Nobody, 
And she lives in Nowhereland ! 
—Helen Hopkins , in St. Nicholas. 
FALLING OUT OF BED. 
HEN the little ones graduate from 
the crib and take the trip to 
Noddles Island every night in a big bed, 
there is constant anxiety on the part of 
the mother for fear that they may roll 
out of bed—as they frequently do, alas ! 
If the bed be placed against the wall, 
they cannot roll out on that side, surely. 
For the other side, let a light, thin strip 
of board be made a little longer than the 
bed. This may be covered with cloth, if 
desired. At the head and foot, let an 
iron guard be screwed to the bed frame, 
as shown in Fig. 137. The strip of board 
slipped into this, will keep the little 
folks quite safe, and save much anxious 
care. Any blacksmith can make such a 
guard of %-inch round iron, and two 
screws will not disfigure the wood 
materially. A similar guard may be 
made of hard wood in the home work¬ 
shop, if preferred. A. H. D. 
A COOKING LECTURE. 
RECIPES WITH THE REASONS WHY. 
Part 111. 
RANC0N1A POTATOES are made 
by paring the potatoes and putting 
them in cold water, and parboiling them 
about 10 minutes ; then put them in with 
the beef, and let them cook, basting 
them with the drippings of the meat. 
While this is not a new dish itself, par¬ 
boiling the potatoes is a feature that is 
not always observed, and it certainly 
serves the purpose of making the pota¬ 
toes very much more tender. They are 
sometimes hard on the outside before 
they are done through, if they are put 
in without parboiling. 
Yorkshire pudding needs about an 
horn's cooking. I shall break three eggs, 
and beat them light ; then add a salt- 
spoonful of salt and one pint of milk. I 
shall then sift into the pan two-thirds 
of a cupful of flour, and turn the egg- 
and-milk mixture over the flour. The 
regular English fashion of baking it, is 
to bake it with the meat ; in order to 
bake the meat, pudding, and potatoes, 
we would need a peculiarly shaped pan; 
but not having this pan, 1 shall bake the 
pudding in a pan by itself, and baste it 
when the meat is busted, with the drip¬ 
pings from the beef. This pudding is 
sometimes baked in gem pans, and if 
you have very deep gem pans, it is a very 
pretty way to bake it, because the parts 
as they come out of the pans, are in very 
nice shape to put around the meat for a 
garnish. This mixture, when it is ready 
to bake, is exceedingly thin. There is 
very little flour, indeed, and, like pop- 
overs, it requires a long cooking. 
Question. —Is the tin greased? 
Answer. —Yes, grease the tin before it 
is put in. 
Q.—IIow large should a roast be to be 
good ? 
A.—You can hardly roast a piece suc¬ 
cessfully that weighs less than four 
pounds. It dries too much inside. Now 
that the meat is thoroughly seared, and 
has begun to brown on top, it is time to 
check the fire. 
Q.—How long has the roast been in ? 
A.—About three-quarters of an hour. 
I shall now make what is called junket. 
It is made with a quart of milk, two 
tablespoonfuls of sugar, two teaspoon¬ 
fuls of vanilla, and one tablespoonful of 
liquid rennet. This may be obtained at 
a cheese factory, and sometimes at a 
drug store or grocery. There is a manu¬ 
factured article put up for this special 
purpose called rennine. 1 do not know 
how largely it has been used, or how 
largely it is known. I think not very 
largely, though it is very good. 
Q.—Can you not keep the dry rennets, 
and prepare it yourself ? 
A.—I think you could, though I know 
nothing at all about dry rennets my¬ 
self. I know’ only of this liquid as I 
have used it, but I know that dry rennet 
is used for the same purpose, and I pre¬ 
sume that the liquid rennet could be 
prepared from it, though I do not know 
how. (A lady : It may be prepared by 
soaking the dry rennet in salted water, 
in a large glass can.) The ingredients 
are very simple, as you see. The point 
TO PREVENT FALLING OUT OF BED. Fig. 137. 
to be observed is the temperature of the 
milk, and it needs to be from 80 to 90 
degrees. If the milk is too hot, it will 
set as soon as the rennet is put into it. 
Q.—Have you ever used the junket 
tablets ? 
A.—I never have ; I didn't know there 
were such things. 
Q.—There are, and they are very nice, 
indeed. 
A.—This liquid rennet keeps for some 
length of time. The junket tablets, I 
would think, would be very nice. Prob¬ 
ably a great many would be interested 
to get them if they knew’ where they 
could be obtained. In adding vanilla in 
making junket, it, of course, is not 
added until the milk is taken from the 
fire; then stir in two teaspoonfuls of 
liquid rennet. Turn quickly into the 
dish in which it is to be served. It 
cannot be disturbed or taken out of one 
dish and put into another after it is 
made. It must be made in the dish in 
which it is to be served. 
Q.—How does the dairy thermometer 
differ from the ordinary thermometer? 
A.—The dairy thermometer is simply 
a glass thermometer that, w’hen put into 
the milk, will float. 
Q —You say that you set your bread 
with the milk at a temperature of 85 
degrees by the dairy thermometer ? 
A.—It would be the same by any ther¬ 
mometer. 
Q.—Don't some cookiDg teachers set 
bread with tne liquid at a lower tempera¬ 
ture, as low as 60 degrees ? 
A.—Yes, Miss Clarke of the Milwau¬ 
kee Cooking School makes a very strong 
point of the lowmess of temperature. 
I have tried sometimes to persuade peo¬ 
ple to set their bread as low as that, but 
have had difficulty in doing so, and when 
you get down to 85 degrees, if you try 
it with your finger, you will find it cooler 
than most people use it. Of course flour 
that is kept in a very cold place, is rather 
too cold to make bread with, unless it is 
first set in a warm room for some time. 
A point that many cooking teachers 
make on bread-making, is the raising of 
bread by daylight, on account of the 
yeast-plant growing better in the day¬ 
light than in the dark, as any other 
plant does. 
Q.—Do you recommend setting bread 
in a crock ? 
A.—I like very much to set bread in 
an earthen dish, much better than in a 
pan, and a crock or a jar is a very nice 
thing in which to set it, because a 
draught does not strike it in any way. 
We find the same difference in tempera¬ 
ture given in directions for making this 
junket. I have found one recipe from 
an extremely reliable cook, saying that 
the temperature should be about 100 de¬ 
grees, and another saying that it should 
not be more than 80. I presume that in 
either case, the different degrees would 
not make any material difference. The 
point in both cases is that it must not 
be too hot. One needs to work quickly 
after the rennet is put in, for it sets 
very quickly. This was a little more 
than 85 degrees—about 90. It thickens 
quicker if it is a little hotter, but still 
one can work quickly enough turning it 
all into one dish. It is a very simple 
dessert, and it is exceedingly palatable 
served with a little sugar and cream. It 
should be served quite cold. 
THE BOY ON THE FARM. 
HEN an able-bodied young man, 
with no strong bent in other 
directions, has a distaste for farm life, 
it must be owing to one or both of two 
things, if his father is a successful 
farmer ; either the home life is dry, nar¬ 
row, uninteresting—few books, little 
company, no amusements, cheap cloth¬ 
ing, ugly furniture—the main object of 
living being to get and save money ; or 
the young man is so unfortunate as to 
be treated by his father as though he 
were still a child, incapable of thinking 
or acting for himself, who ought to be 
grateful for the chance cf doing a man's 
work for his board. The average young 
man wants the chance to earn money, and 
the privilege of doing what he pleases with 
the money after it is earned. Give him the 
opportunity to do this on the farm, with 
a pleasant home, and nine times out of 
ten, I believe that he will appreciate the 
advantages of farm life. He will, for 
the first time, perhaps, really have them 
to appreciate. 
If a man is selfish and dictatorial, un¬ 
sympathetic, wholly forgetful of his 
own younger days, it would be strange, 
indeed, if his children grew up with 
much affection for their home or their 
father's occupation. I knew a man, of a 
different stamp, who had four boys. He 
thought a great deal of them, loved to 
have them with him, was interested in 
their pursuits, and anxious that they 
should be successful. He treated them, 
even when they were very small, as 
iluugh they were rational beings. He 
expected them to work, trusted them 
with responsibilities, and sometimes de¬ 
ferred to their judgment. As a natural 
consequence, they thought everything 
of their father, and were never so happy 
as when they could be with him helping 
him. They were regular little workers, 
wanting to do everything he did, proud 
of pleasing him, interested in all farm¬ 
ing operations, bright, wide-awake, ob¬ 
servant, and full of life. It seems to me 
that this is the way to treat a boy on 
the farm—unselfishly, wisely, sympa¬ 
thetically. Not trying to see how much 
work can be got out of him for nothing 
before he is 21 , but how he can best be 
helped and guided to become indepen¬ 
dent, useful, successful and happy, l. r. 
JESTING ABOUT MARRIAGE. 
T is not alone those who publicly write 
or talk about marriage, but hundreds 
of married people are doing equally as 
much damage to this whole marriage 
question in the minds of the young, with 
those uncalled-for jests which are be¬ 
coming more and more common, says 
Edward W. Bok in the Ladies’ Home 
Journal. It is well enough to pass these 
things off for jests, but it must be re¬ 
membered that the young are not always 
capable of discerning just how much fun 
and how much wisdom there is in a jest; 
and they have heard it said somewhere, 
too, that many a truth is spoken in jest. 
Now what do I mean by these jests ? 
The other evening a young man and 
his fiancee called at a house at which I 
happened to be. As the girl entered the 
room, she dropped her handkerchief, 
which, naturally, the young man at once 
picked up and handed to her. 
“Isn't it beautiful to see that?” said 
the hostess. “Well, my dear, he won’t do 
that when you’re married, depend upon 
that. You will pick it up yourself.” 
It was said in jest, but I noticed that 
a flush passed over the face of the girl, 
while a look of resentment was hastily 
controlled by the young man. 
“ Expenses ?” said a married man to a 
younger one who was engaged. “ What 
do you know of expenses ? Wait till 
you're married ; then you'll know what 
expenses are, won’t he, dear ?” 
“ He will, for a fact,” replied the wife. 
All in jest! But the fact was not lost 
upon me, that the first thing which that 
young fellow said as we walked home 
was : “I suppose it does make a sight of 
difference in a fellow’s expenses when 
he is married.” 
“ Sweet ? ” repeated a man of family 
to whom a rapturous lover was describ¬ 
ing his fiancee, “ why, of course she is. 
They’re all sweet—until after marriage.” 
Mystery, mystery, adding to the mys¬ 
tery ! 
“Just wait until you’re married, my 
dear fellow,” was another “ jest” I heard 
only a few days ago. “ You won't smoke 
such delicious cigars then.” 
“Flowers and a carriage to the the¬ 
atre !” said a mother laughingly to her 
daughter. “ Well, enjoy your attentions, 
my dear, while they last.” 
All in jest, of course ; but it set the 
girl thinking just the same. Brushing 
the dew from the rose ! 
“ Having lots of fun, eh ? ” said a father 
to his engaged son as he was dressing to 
go out with his fiancee. “ That’s right, 
my boy. Have it while you can.'’ 
“ Why, is there no pleasure after a fel¬ 
low’s married, father ?” asked the son. 
“Oh, you’ll see soon enough. Wait, 
just wait! ■’ was the reply. 
Next morning the son said to his 
mother: 
“ What’s the matter, mother, isn’t 
father happy ? ” 
Only a jest! 
Mature people may laugh at these 
things, and perhaps say that the young 
people have induced me to take this sub¬ 
ject more seriously than there is any 
need. And it is just here that I would 
like to say that if there is a gulf which 
separates the sexes, 1 think there is an¬ 
other gulf almost as great, and it is that 
which separates youth and maturity, 
and maturity often helps to widen that 
gulf as much as it ever does to bridge it. 
It does not seem to occur to older people 
that the young do not understand, and 
therefore do not relish having jests made 
of their closer affections. They are 
