\omtstit 4 ; c0nantin 
HOW TO OOOK SALMON. 
A. S. P,, Macomb, Ill., writes:—“ I should 
like to ask, through your valuable paper, 
how to cook Halted salmon, as we do uot re¬ 
ceive it fresh.” 
Wash the fish in two or three waters, and 
then put it to soak for twelve hours. House¬ 
keepers who have sour milk—buttermilk is 
good—prefer it to water for freshening salt¬ 
ed fish. 
Malmnn Ilrolled 
is, perhaps, beat. Clean it well, and cut it 
into round slices, about an inch and a-half 
thick; dry it thoroughly in a clean cloth; 
rub it over with sweet oil, or thick melted 
butter, and sprinkle a little salt over it, 
especially if the fish has been well freshened ; 
pul the gridiron over clear, clean live coals ; 
when it is hot, wipe it clean, and rub it with 
butter, oil, or lard; lay the salmon on, and 
when one side is done, turn over carefully 
and broil the other. (They may be cooked 
nearly as well in an oven, in a buttered pan 
or dish.) Serve with auchovy, lobster or 
shrimp sauce. 
To Roll Salmon. 
Water enough to fully cover the salmon. 
When the water boils, skim it, (if the salmon 
needs salt, add it to the water.) Wash the 
fish well, and pul it in, boiling gently if the 
meat be thick. Salmon requires almost as 
much boiling as meat. The thickness is 
more to bo considered than the weight. 
Fifteen minutes boiling to ft pound of fish; 
ten pounds of full-grown salmon will be done 
in seventy-five minutes. Serve with lobster, 
shrimp, or anchovy sauce. The thinnest 
part of the fish is the fattest. 
Another fashionable mode of Berving 
salmon is to divide the large part of the 
body in three parts; boil; dish them in a 
line, and pour over them Genevoise sauce. 
The skin is not. removed. 
Gcnovolso Sauce. 
Cut, into dice, three ounces of the lean of 
a well flavored ham, and put them with half 
a small carrot, four cloves, a blade of mace, 
two or three very small sprigs of lemon- 
thyme and parsley, and something more 
than an ounce of butter, in astew pan; sim¬ 
mer nearly an hour, then stir in a teaspoon- 
ful of flour; stew slowly for five minutes 
longer, and pour in by degrees, a pint of 
good, boiling veal gravy, (beef will do,) and 
let the sauce again simmer for nearly an hour. 
Strain it off in a clean sauce pan, and when 
it boils, stir in a wineglass and a-half of sher¬ 
ry or madeira, (optional,) two tablespoonfula 
of lemon juice, a little cayenne and salt, if 
needed, and a table-spoonful of flour, smooth¬ 
ly mixed with two ounces of butter. Give the 
whole a boll, pour a portion over the fish, 
and send the remainder to table in a hot tu¬ 
reen. This sauce is also served with trout. 
Pickled Salmon. 
Clean the salmon well, but do not scale it. 
Boil in water strongly salted, (some cooks 
say a brine strong enough to bear an egg.) 
Then drain it; when done, wrap it in a dry 
cloth, and set it in a cool place until next 
day. To one quurt of the water in which 
the salmon was boiled—of which there should 
have been only Just enough to boil it—allow 
two quarts of the best vinegar, one ounce of 
whole black pepper, one grated nutmeg and 
a dozen blades of mace. Boil these in a 
closely covered kettle. When the pickle 
thus prepared i3 entirely cold, pour it over 
the salmon. Cover closely, and it will keep 
lor months. When served, it should be 
garnished with fennel. It is very nice for 
luncheon. 
--. 
ODDS AND ENDS. 
Pruit Cnke. 
I herewith send you a couple of “ season¬ 
able” recipes that 1 know, from repeated 
trials, to be excellentOne pound of flour; 
one pound of sugar; three-fourths of a pound 
of butter; two pounds of seeded raisins; two 
pounds of currants washed and dried; one 
pound of citron cut in small pieces; one-half 
eup of brandy or whisky; eight or ten eggs; 
one teaspoon of flavoring; two teaspoons of 
cinnamon; two of allspice; one of cloves; 
two nutmegs; one tablespoon of saleratus 
dissolved in one-half a cup of cold coffee. 
Stir the butter and sugar to a cream ; then 
add i lie whiles and yolks of llie eggs beaten 
separately; then the flour, gradually; then 
the brandy; then the spice, and lastly the 
h uit, which should be mixed and rolled in 
flour. This will make three good sized 
loaves. It will keep any length of time; I 
have some now that was made a year ago, 
that is as fresh and nice as one could wish. 
About. Tea. 
A gentleman at breakfast with us, a 
few mornings since, in the course of conver¬ 
sation, gave some interesting facts in regard 
to lea brokers. It appears that tlie“ Heath¬ 
en Chinee” are not always to be relied upon, 
even in the matter of tea, so the delicate 
nib undergoes examination and tests this 
side of the water. The business of tea 
brokers is to test the quality and fix the 
value of tea. Touch, taste, sight and smell 
are all required in making tests. Many 
years of experience are required to make a 
competent judge. The interior of a tea 
broker’s office is the scene of much tea tip¬ 
pling. Hot water is always ready in a largo 
copper kettle, and tiny china clips and 
saucers on shelves remind one of a china 
shop. Grocers, buyers, and dealers general¬ 
ly, test the quality of teas by accepting an 
invitation to drink. So it happens that tea 
brokers, in tastiug anddrinkingteasomuch, 
often lose their health entirely from so doing, 
and are made invalids for the remainder of 
their days. 
Sometimes it happens that in the partial 
destruction of a vessel, the underwriters, 
anxious to save all they can, remove chests 
of tea, that have been soaked through with 
the salt water. This tea is dried, colored, 
and mixed with good tea, and sells for sev¬ 
enty-five cents per pound, perhaps. A man 
who understands mixing tea with skill and 
success, commands a line salary. 
The best tea is always the cheapest, if one 
value the quality of the beverage. It is too 
delicate an herb to undergo any but the most 
careful treatment, without harm ; much less 
to be soaked in sea water and still remain— 
tea. 
Sweet Potato** for Yen»t. 
Perhaps some “ troubled Martha,” who 
wishes to keep home-made yeast on hand 
for making bread, and who, like myself, does 
not always have Irish potatoes at hand, will 
be pleased and relieved to know that a splen¬ 
did article can be made from the sweet pota¬ 
to-better, I think, than from the Irish— 
usiDg a less quantity of sugar.— Florida 
Subscriber, Port Orange , Fla. 
Pillow* for Quitting ilio Nerves. 
1 read in one of the late Rural New- 
Yorkers, about pillows for quieting the 
nerves. None are so good as the ones I 
have tried. I am very restless and nervous 
nights. A pillow made of hops is just the 
tiling.— Mrs. M. Connell, Onondaga coun¬ 
ty ,, N. Y. 
-♦♦♦- 
“HOW MOTHER DID IT:” 
Especially for Men to Read. 
TVe find the following "confession” go¬ 
ing the rounds of the papers, and, as it is one 
of those " pat" talks we always delight in, 
we give it a snug place herein. We hope all 
the men who compliment their wives with 
glowing accounts of “how mother did it,” 
will commit this to memory. We also sug¬ 
gest to the Maria Anns, the world over, 
to follow out the hint to go and do likewise 
which this especial Maria Ann inaugurat¬ 
ed, Here is where the story begins: 
“ I found fault, some time ago, with 
Maria Ann’s custard pie, and tried to tell 
her how my mother made custard pie. 
Maria made the pie after my recipe. It 
lasted longer than any other pie we ever 
had, Maria set it on the table every day 
for dinner; and you see I could not eat it, be¬ 
cause I forgot to tell her to put in any eggs 
or shortening. It was economical; but in 
a fit of generosity I stnlu it. from the pantry 
and gave it to a poor little boy In the neigh¬ 
borhood. The hoy’s funeral was largely at¬ 
tended by his former playmates. I did not 
go myself. Then there were the buckwheat 
cakes. I told Maria Ann any fool could 
beat her making those cakes; and she said 
I had better try it. So I did. I emptied the 
batter all out of the pitcher one evening, 
and set the cakes myself. I got the flour 
aud the salt water; and, warned by the 
past, put in a liberal quantity of eggs and 
shortening. 1 shortened with tallow from 
roast beef, because I could not find any lard. 
The batter did not look right, ami I lit my 
pipe and pondered. Yeast, yeast, to he sure. 
I had forgotten the yeast. I went and woke 
up the baker, and got six cents’ worth of 
yeast. I set the pitcher behind the sitting- 
room stove, and went to bed. 
“ In the morning I got up early, and pre¬ 
pared to enjoy my triumph; but I didn’t. 
That yeast was strong enough to raise the 
dead, and the batter was running all over the 
carpet. I scraped it, up and put it into an¬ 
other dish. Then I got a fire in the kitchen 
and put on the griddle. The first lot of 
cakes stuck to the griddle. The second dit¬ 
toed, only more, Maria came down and 
asked me what was burning. She advised 
me to grease the griddle. I did it. One end 
of the griddle got too hot, and I dropped the 
thing on my ten derest corn while trying to 
turn it around. Finally the cakes were ready 
for breakfast, and Maria got the other things 
ready. We sat down. My cakes did not 
have exactly the right flavor. I took one 
mouthful, and it satisfied me. T lost my ap¬ 
petite at once. Maria would not let me put 
one on her plate. I think those cakes may 
be reckoned a dead loss. The cat would not 
eat them. The dog ran off and stayed away 
three days after one was offered to him. The 
hens wouldn’t go within ten feet of them. I 
threw them in the back yard, and there has 
not been a pig on the premises since. I eat 
what is put before me now, and do not al- i 
lude to my mother’s system of cooking.” 
jtfcrbfs anir Stanmrs. 
_gp_ 
MINTW00D*S CONVERSAZIONE. 
My Pocket Appeal. 
I am tinder obligations to several readers, 
for their generous and sympathetic response 
to my pocket dilemma. One lady writes: 
“ Perhaps I can tell you something you do 
uot know. In making pockets, if sewed in 
ft slit, lu the skirl of the dress, sew a tape to 
the top and attach it to Lhe waistband.” I 
always did know that, but have practiced a 
better way, which my mother taught me 
when 1 was eight yearn old, and began to 
help make my own dresses. Ella, a Michi¬ 
gan reader, having possession of the same 
mode of hanging pockets, sends me the plan, 
accompanying her letter with a paper pocket, 
all " fixed.” Many thanks; and believing it 
the host mode of pocket making extant, an 
illustration is given for others in ignorance 
of it. The pocket is somewhat pear shaped, 
(the illustration looks more like a beer bottle;) 
a linger from the waist to the pocket open¬ 
ing; the opening just large enough to pas* 
the hand through easily; a finger and a-half 
in length below. It is sewed in the seam 
next the front—the first seam—which may 
be covered by a plait in the skirt at the waist. 
Around the pocket opening, U sewed an loch 
wide hand, which should be the same as the 
dress; one edge of the band is sewed around 
the skirt slit, and the other around that of 
t he pocket, which inclines I lie pocket, to hang 
in away from the skirt. This band should 
be lined, to give it sufficient strength. 
1 
% ■ 
\J 
This correspondent further writes“ I 
put one in iny dress skirt, on the right side, 
and fasten the top to the darts, and can carry 
“lots” of useful things. Then I put one in 
my underskirt, on the left, and get at that 
through an opening in my dress skirt. I 
have been laughed at a great deal for having 
so many pockets, but when my male rela¬ 
tives mentioned the matter, I suggested the 
idea to them of counting tlieir own. In 
some of my husband’s suits, I find twelve or 
thirteen.” 
True, men’s suits are fairly riddled with 
pocket holes. A gentlemau told me the 
other day, lie had seventeen pockets in one 
overcoat. Another gentleman lias suggested 
the brilliant idea of procuring half a dozen 
bead-wrought work bags, of Indian make, 
attaching them to a belt,, and wearing them 
a la canteen, or as so many pendant orna¬ 
ments 1 
IIow to Renew Old Crnpo. 
Adelia Dale.— Wind the crape smooth¬ 
ly about a round stick a foot long—the end 
of a broom handle will do —and pin it. 
Have ready a tea kettle with water In it, 
boiling. Pass the stick with the crape on it 
hack and forth in front of the spout, until the 
crape is thoroughly steamed, but not until it 
is wet with moisture. Then slip it off the 
stick, leaving it in the roll until fully dry. 
This process also reuews the color. If the 
crape is wry old and dingy, the success is 
not so gratifying. 
To Rleach Good*. 
J. R. S. writes:—“ Can you inform me 
how to bleach thin goods without injury to 
the fabrics?” 
A friend, who is a chemist, furnishes me 
the mode in use among those who make it 
their business to bleach“ Soak the goods 
for several houra in a weak solution of 
chloride of lime ; take out and dip into a so¬ 
lution of sulphuric acid which is in strength 
proportioned at one drop of the acid to fifty 
drops of water; or fifty times as much water 
as acid. The cost of this mode of bleaching 
is one cent per yard. Those unaccustomed 
to tills process, in order to test the strength 
of the solution, should first experiment with 
a worthless piece of cloth.” 
To Rciiioto Ink from While Good*. 
A Subscriber writes:—•“ I have a white 
dress that is soiled with purple writing fluid. 
Can you tell me how to remove it?” Total 
depravity has its full development in ink. 
When you desire it to remain permanently, 
it disappears after the first boiling. One 
should always spill indelible ink on their 
dresses, for that is sure to wash out. Purple 
ink is rather more perverse than black. Ox-1 
alic acid is considered one of the best agents 
for removing stains. Dissolve ten cents 
worth in a pint of soft water; dip thestained 
spots in it quickly, and then iuto clear wa¬ 
ter, and rub well; repeat the process until 
the stains are removed. If the goods remain 
in the acid, the texture will be destroyed. 
The skin of the bauds is unpleasantly affect¬ 
ed, if brought into frequent contact with a 
strong solution. Lemon juice and salt, 
rubbed upon the stains, and afterwards ex¬ 
posed to the sun, or beat, often succeed in 
removing stains. Vinegar is sometimes used 
in lieu of other acids. Hard, white soap is 
often rubbed on with lemon juice. Burning 
brimstone is also recommended for taking 
out stains from cotton and linen goods, by 
holding them over it. Another method ; 
pour hot tallow on the staius. 
Finally, a sure recipe, and no harm done, 
it care is observed: — Dissolve five cents’ 
worlh of cyanide of potassium In a gill of 
water, aud dip the goods quickly. Thin so¬ 
lution will remove the most tenacious of 
stains, including those of nitrate of silver. 
It is needless, perhaps, to add that cyanide 
of potassium is n, powerful poison, and in the 
use of it, as much care should be observed 
as in the use of corrosive sublimate or arsenic. 
Hygienic Information. 
THE MAD STONE: 
A Thrilling Story by a Father. 
In answer to your correspondent, Water 
Snake, in Rural New-Yorker of Nov. 12, 
1870, where he so dogmatically expresses his 
opinion about mad stones and hissing snakes, 
I propose to speak of what I know, and tes¬ 
tify to wlmt I have seen. 1 do not. know 
who Dr. Haskins is, or what lie has written 
about said stone. In the fall of 1865, myself 
and family, (consisting of a wile and one 
child—a little girl three years old,) moved 
West, and lived that winter in the house of 
one Reed, in the town of Marion, Lynn G'o., 
Iowa. Early in the April following, we 
moved into Otter Creek township, twelve 
miles north of Marion, and in the same coun¬ 
ty, upon the open prairie, near what is known 
ns Long Grove, and within a few minutes’ 
walk of the following persons, cither of whom 
can be referred to in vindication of my state¬ 
ments:— Charles Hoffman, J. Lanins, 
Fleming, Lyman, McMiu.br, (have forgot¬ 
ten the given names of the three last,) and a 
score of others, all honorable men. 
In the month of June, I framed a small 
house, which was erected soon after, near the 
cabin I then lived in. As I finished my tim¬ 
ber 1 packed it up, laying it upon small, 
round sticks, to keep it from the ground. A 
few days after, as I sal in iny cabin reading, 
and my little girl playing out of doors, I 
heard her scream, and run to the door. She 
was coming from the pile of timber. As 
soon as I saw her, which could not have 
bceu more than three seconds, she sat down, 
and drawing her knees up to her chin, cried 
piteously, " Oh, papa! papa I My stomach ! 
My stomach!” As quick as a man can tell 
it, l took her in my arms and laid her upon 
the bed, when she immediately commenced 
vomiting. Upon interrogating her, as soon 
as she could speak, she sulci something bit 
her toe, she being barefooted. I saw upon 
the joint of the great toe of her left foot, a 
little red spot, looking something like the 
sting of a bee. I went out and looked about 
to find what 1 feared, and hoped not to find, 
a rattlesnake; but not finding anything, I 
went and look the second look. Imagine, if 
you are a parent, my feellugs when 1 saw a 
little purple ring around the wound, about 
one-third as large as a small shirt button. It 
was small, 1 know, but I read in it, in flam¬ 
ing capitals— Death ; for I knew that the 
chances for a grown person, away, as 1 was, 
from medical aid, was very small; how much 
less fora child in delicate health, only three 
years old. 1 felt sure that death alone could 
relieve her. I quickly went, out again to look 
in the only place which I did not look be¬ 
fore, under the timber. I took a stick, with 
which I commenced to punch under the 
timber. If I bad any hopes before, they ut¬ 
terly left me now, as I produced a large rat¬ 
tlesnake nearly three feet long. I saw it all. 
She had been shelling corn into one of the 
mortises, aud standing close by the timber, 
her toes went under and disturbed his 
snakeship. 
This was about three o’clock P. M. As 
fast as I could run I alarmed my neighbors, 
who came promptly, and the next two hours 
everything was done that experience of 
years in border life could suggest under the 
circumstances, (there was not one drop of 
whisky in the neighborhood,) yet slowly and 
surely ring after ring made its appearance 
about half an inch apatt. Six o’clock 
came, and the rings had reached hei knee. 
Wlmt should 1 do ? What could I do ? My 
little one was going, fading, still fading. 
“Can w« do nothing more?” I asked, when 
Mr. Hoffman said “ Nothing, unless we take 
her to the Mad Stone." 
“ Mad Stone /” said I, in surprise, “ what 
is that?" 
He told me in a few words ; said it would 
certainly cure if we could gel her there hi 
season—it being ten miles, and over a bad 
road. Said I," Ilitch up your horses quick 1” 
and soon we were under way. It was near 
ten o’clock when we arrived at the house of 
Turner Evans, the man who owns that pi'C- 
ciom pebble, or one of them. About nine 
o’clock the rings bad reached her body, the 
swellings all the time keeping pace with the 
rings. At eight o’clock she went to sleep— 
or into a state resembling it—with her eyes 
set, and, I feared, never to wake again, here. 
On entering the house of Mr. Evans, he 
told us to give ourselves no uneasiness, for 
if she had but one more breath to draw lm 
could save her. lie then produced the 
magic stone. 1 must confess it looked like a 
small thing upon which the life of my child 
depended. It was about one-half inch 
long by tlircu-eightlis of an inch wide and 
deep, as near as 1 can recollect, of the color 
of soapstone, and porous, the pores being 
very small, yet discern able to the naked eye. 
He then took a saucer of milk and lint water, 
half and half, into which lie put the stone, 
ho said, to cleanse It. He then scratched 
the skin a little below the knee with a pin, 
enough to start the blood, (she did not feel 
it—she was beyond that;) then taking the 
stone from the milk and water, In; put it 
on the scratch, to which it dung like two 
magnets, sucking the poison from her sys¬ 
tem. You could see its pores fill with the 
naked eye. As soon as it became full it 
would drop off into the milk and wider, 
which lie held for that purpose, cleansing 
itself almost as soon as it touched the liquid. 
He would place it. again upon the scratch, to 
which it would adhere, and from which it 
would again fall as soon as full, which opera¬ 
tion took about one moment. 
Up to the time of the second application 
of the Mad Stone the wound on the toe had 
remained, as at first, a little red spot, except, 
of course, the purple rings, which now be¬ 
gan to bleed profusely, the blood being as 
black as black can be. In about an hour 
her sense of feeling returned ; at the end of 
two hours she spoke and called for water; 
at the end of four hours the stone refused to 
work, there being no more poison in her 
system for it to cling to, and she was pro¬ 
nounced safe. We returned home in the 
morning joyfully, you can imagine, for she 
that was dead was alive again, 1 could 
have told this story much shorter, but have 
only entered into details that the most in¬ 
credulous may not bo faithless, but believ¬ 
ing. Jnw Wakefield. 
Webster, 'Worcester Co.. Mass. 
n ^partstmin, 
NOTES TOR SPORTSMEN. 
How to Cutcli Mink in Winter. 
I should like to ask O. K. V., Burlington, 
Iowa, liow to Cittch mink iu the winter, 
when wooden traps won’t spring. There 
are several small brooks near our bouse, and 
when there is a light snow 1 can see where 
mink have been up and down the brook. 
Can I catch them in steel traps? Wlmt kind 
of bait shall I use? Also, how shall I catch 
foxes in the winter?— c. f. g. 
About Smoking Out Game. 
Tell “ Amateur ” (sec Rural New- 
Yorker, Dec. 17, p. 894) that lie will find 
the steel trap superior to any smoko or 
smudge lie may think of inventing. Wood¬ 
chucks and rabbits are more easily taken 
than the more important fur bearing ani¬ 
mals; and by the use of tlm spring pole you 
can prevent any animal, from a wolf to a 
bear, from gnawing or breaking a leg and 
escaping, if there is a sapling neur your 
trap, trim it and use it as it is; if there is not, 
cut one of suitable size, and having driven 
firmly into the ground, bend dowu the top, 
to which fasten the ring of the trap; fasten 
the pole, in its bent position, by cutting a 
notch into another sapling or a stake. This 
is easily done, and is effectual. 
As to rabbits, if you must trap them, use a 
spring pole and noose made of fine copper 
wire. This is also the best method of taking 
skunks, without bad consequences. It would 
tie absurd to think of smoking out mink. 
Set the trap as previously directed, and bait 
with fish or fresh bloody meat, smoked in cold 
weather, to give it a stronger smell. The best 
scent for attracting mink is prepared from the 
decomposition of minnows, eels or trout. Cut 
the fish into small pieces; put iutoaboiile, 
cork loosely, and let it bang in the sunshine 
two or three weeks in the summer. A few 
drops of this on the bait, or on a slick, near 
the trap, will draw mink a long distance. 
The main objection to smoking them out is 
that the smoke would drive them down their 
holes and out into the stream, as tlieir holes 
always connect with some stream of water. 
Resides, mink are of such an amphibious 
nature as to retain a single breath a great 
length of time. 
To Deodorize Skunk Skins, 
or articles of clothing scented, hold them 
over a fire of red cedar boughs, and sprinkle 
with chloride of lime; or, wrap them in 
green hemlock boughs, when they are to he 
had, and In twenty-four hours they will be 
cleansed.—L. M. VV., Durand , III. 
