642 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
August 27, 
From Day to Day, 
TWO HOMES. 
My home was in the island that we love, 
Set In t He seas. 
The heaven alternate smiles and frowns 
above: 
The stately trees 
Beset the hedgerows, and the fields are gay 
WiFh the blossom-store; 
While still tne gray sea washes, night and 
day. 
The whlte-clifTed shore. 
My home is in the solemn, wide Karoo, 
The boundless veldt. 
Spanned o'er with Infinite dome of stainless 
blue. 
Here have I dwelt 
Until the giant bills, the arid plain 
Of sand and stone, 
The thorny bush, athirst for tarrying rain, 
Are homelike grown. 
Sometimes my heart looks back, and yearning 
cries 
To seek once more 
The fragrant hedgerows and the changing 
skies, 
The lanes of yore. 
And then the wide, wide veldt, far-stretched 
below 
The high, blue dome. 
Holds me with mighty arms, and whispers, 
“I.o 1 
I am thy home.” 
—Credit Lost. 
• 
A regular oiling of the wringer will 
save labor, and also the wear and tear of 
the machinery. The rollers must always 
be loosened before putting the wringer 
away. To clean the rollers first use a 
cloth soaked in kerosene, and after this 
finish the cleansing with soap and water. 
* 
Apple croutes form a wholesome des¬ 
sert that is a variation from ordinary 
baked apples. Select tart, juicy apples, 
peel, core, and halve them crosswise. Have 
ready as many slices of bread, cut into 
circles, as there are apples; butter them 
generously and sprinkle liberally with 
sugar; lay the apples on the bread core 
side down; sprinkle with sugar and bake 
till done. Serve hot with cream. 
* 
Here is a suggestion given by a corre¬ 
spondent of Good Housekeeping which 
will be of value to many country dwellers 
who drive a good deal: 
Wishing to drive to the station in a high 
cart and to take my little son with me, I con 
t rived a way of making it safe. I went to a 
harness shop and had a belt made to buckle 
firmly about his waist; on this belt was fas- 
tened a leather loop. Then before driving, 1 
fastened the belt about his waist, slipped my 
left arm through the loop and the little fel¬ 
low could not be joggled from the seat. It 
worked like a charm all last Summer. 
* 
Scraps of stale bread, toasted in the 
oven until crisp, find many uses. We run 
them through the food chopper until fine 
enough for use. If these crumbs are sift- 
eu, the fine particles will he found very 
nice for tnutnns and griddle cakes. For 
muffins, use one egg, one tablespoonful of 
butter, one teaspoonful of sugar and half 
that of baking powder, two cupfuls of the 
crumbs and one of flour; mix with water 
or sweet milk and bake slowly in gem 
pans. For griddle cakes use two cupfuls 
of crumbs to one of self-raising buckwheat 
flour. 
* 
Mrs. Murray had advertised for a 
skilled gardener to work by the day in 
her yard, says the Youth’s Companion, 
and somewhat to her embarrassment, she 
was obliged to choose between two appli¬ 
cants who appeared at the same moment. 
As she stood on her doorstep, questioning 
first one and then the other, she became 
aware that her mother-in-law, seated on 
the porch a short distance from the men 
and directly behind them, was frantically 
gesticulating. The old lady, satisfied at 
last that she had attracted her daughter- 
in-law’s attention, pointed unmistakably 
toward the less prepossessing of the two 
men; and the younger woman, supposing 
that her relative had some personal knowl¬ 
edge of the applicant, promptly engaged 
him. 
“Has that man ever worked for you, 
mother?’’ asked Mrs. Murray, when the 
two women were alone. 
“No,” replied the old lady “I never saw 
or heard of either of ’em until now.” 
“Then why in the world did you choose 
the shorter man? The other had a much 
better face.” 
“Face!” returned the old lady, briskly. 
“When you pick out a man to work in the 
garden you want to go by his overalls. If 
they’re patched on the knees you want 
him. If the patch is on the seat, you 
don’t.” 
* 
T he family cook had a quart of rich va¬ 
nilla ice cream left melting in the freezer, 
and this suggested an experiment in des¬ 
serts. She sliced some peaches, and put 
them in an earthen pudding dish, sprink¬ 
ling them with sugar. One cupful of flour, 
to which a teaspoonful of baking powder 
and a little salt were added, was sifted into 
the cream and stirred into a smooth hat¬ 
ter, like that for French pancakes. This 
was poured over the peaches, and the 
whole baked for 40 minutes. The result 
was the most delicious peach pudding we 
have vet tasted. 
* 
Here is a chocolate milk shake which 
forms a delicious and nourishing Summer 
drink: Take one pint of milk and scald, 
not boil it. When hot throw in three 
squares of unsweetened chocolate that 
have been grated. While still on the fire 
beat with an egg heater until the chocolate 
is dissolved and the mixture is foamy. As 
it comes to the boiling point remove from 
the fire, stir in four tablespoonfuls of 
sugar, another pint of milk and set aside 
to cool. When you wish to serve it take 
a two-quart jar with a tight cover and put 
in it about a pint of finely chopped ice, 
pour in the cold chocolate mixture, fasten 
the top on tightly and shake. vigorously 
for two or three minutes. It should be 
frothy and very cold. Serve at once. 
* 
Last Summer barefoot sandals, as they 
are called, attracted attention among chil¬ 
dren’s wear; they had been popular for 
some time in Europe. This year they have 
become popular here and are much worn. 
In style they are exactly like the Roman 
sandals shown in classical pictures, con¬ 
sisting of a stout sole, held in place by 
a broad strap from the toe, crossed by two 
others, with another strap coming from 
the heel and buckled around the ankle. 
They give all the freedom of “going bare¬ 
foot” without the risk of cuts and stone 
bruises. They are supposed to be worn 
without stockings, but most children notch 
such a chapter of accidents on their bare 
shins that it is a relief to cover them. The 
sandals cost $1.25 to $1.75 a pair; they are 
made of russet leather. 
Gathering Day. 
Other places have Old Home Week, 
Centennial celebrations and institutes. In 
this quiet little village of farms, nestling 
among the hills, we have a Gathering Day. 
Ever since our Indian fighting pioneer 
grandfathers built their cabins among the 
forest shadows, there has been a day, in 
the latter part of August, set apart, hal¬ 
lowed by custom and childhood’s mem¬ 
ories, when we come together for a grand 
good time, in our own farmer fashion. 
Twelve miles away there lies a long sandy 
shore. Here are a few cottages, a trolley 
line, and its pavilion growing like a mush¬ 
room. The ban of fashion has been spared 
this place, however. It is clean, quiet and 
famous only for its splendid surf. This 
is the gathering place. For days before 
the appointed time, excitement is rife 
among us. Each farmer’s wife and daugh¬ 
ters are as busy as bees, preparing pies, 
cakes and toothsome dainties for the gen¬ 
erous lunch baskets. Many of us drive 
to the beach, but the electric cars carry a 
large number. As I climbed the pavilion 
steps and walked around to the seaward 
side I saw the same groups of democrat 
wagons, top buggies and carryalls, with 
harnesses neatly laid over the whiffle- 
trees, while horses were tethered nearby, 
that had greeted my childish eyes. And 
the conversation I overheard recalled those 
times vividly. “Well, well, Mrs. -, 
I knew I’d run across you before the day 
was over. Now, how do you do? You’re 
looking real smart, ain’t you?” “You see 
that little girl with the pink hat? That’s 
my daugiiter’s youngest child. I declare 
if she ain’t barefoot so soon! That child 
is as fidl of mischief as a nut is of meat. 
I expect she’ll be half drowned ’fore night, 
if I don’t keep an eye on her. Land! 
Her mother ain’t half so worried ’s I be 
over her.” The grandfathers, with strong, 
sun-browned faces, chatted together as if 
they had not met in years. Fathers com¬ 
pared crops and stock, and incidentally 
kept the youngsters supplied with nickels 
wherewith to buy popcorn and peanuts, 
just as their own fathers used to for them. 
Small boys coaxed and dared timid 
smaller sisters to “play tag with the 
waves.” If, as quite often happened, a big 
roller drenched the dainty white skirts 
and raised a weeping protest from the tiny 
girl, her unlucky brother piloted her to his 
long-suffering mother, and received his 
lecture with becoming solemnity as befit¬ 
ted his guilt, meanwhile devising some new 
scheme of fun. 
At length came the noon hour; lunch 
baskets were opened, and with appetites 
sharpened by the sea air, each did justice 
to the good things. After an hour of 
lounging while our dinner digested a lit¬ 
tle, some one produced a coil of big rope 
for the tug-of-war. There are two Granges 
in town, one in the upper parish and an¬ 
other in the lower. Of course there exists 
a brisk rivalry between them. This test 
of superiority was hailed with delight. 
Fifteen worthy brothers lined up on each 
side and the word was given. A moment 
of indecision and then a big, stout, smil¬ 
ing young farmer on the upper Grange’s 
side began hauling in hand over hand and 
passing the slack to his supporters. How 
we yelled, cheered and talked all at once! 
Our defeated brothers generously ap¬ 
plauded too. Then man pulled against 
man, and some funny things happened. A 
slender young man proved his mettle by 
dragging his stout young opponent several 
yards. This poor victim, very red in the 
face, dug his toes into the sand and hung 
on pluckily, while the sand rolled in a 
heap before him as he plowed. Then 
came a bag race, where each man got into 
a meal sack, tied it around his waist and 
ran. It was a ridiculous sight. I laughed 
until I choked. Not to leave the “women 
folks” out of the fun, an egg race was sug¬ 
gested. A man was sent to get the requi¬ 
site number of eggs and dessert spoons. 
Each contestant stood with toes in line 
holding the egg at arm’s length in the 
bowl of the spoon. At the signal they 
ran 20 paces. The first one over the line 
with her egg safely won. Some ran with 
eyes glued to their egg and landed at right 
or left. Some dropped the egg, and a few 
came over the line triumphant. \ hen the 
eggs were placed in the sand, contestants 
stood at 20 paces, each directly opposite 
an egg. At the word they ran, scooped 
up their particular egg and ran back. 1 he 
women had a tug-of-war, too, on their 
own account. One farmer’s wife, a woman 
who must weigh over 200 , sat squarely 
down on the sand and grasped the rope. 
More lively, less bulky sisters pulled in the 
slack and she with phlegmatic good-nature 
“held on,” a fortress that could not be 
taken, although rather shaken and vibrant 
with laughter. 
A party of youths and maidens walked 
along the shore to the life-saving station, 
where a member of the crew in spotless 
white duck suit received them courteously 
and exhibited the apparatus, the mess- 
room, sleeping quarters, signal books and 
library. Then some of the venturesome 
ones climbed to the lookout and gazeci 
through the powerful glasses there. I 
think we were all a bit sorry when the time 
was over and the sky glowed warmly, 
alight with sunset glory. Moist, tired lit¬ 
tle feet were once more imprisoned in 
shoes and stockings amid protestations, 
and the sticky, sunburned faces wiped 
clean for the home drive. Steady horses 
used to farm life frisked about coltishly 
while being harnessed, and pranced off on 
the home journey, as wagons and buggies 
departed one by one, “in time to do the 
chores, and milk.” Lights twinkled out on 
cars, and all over the great pavilion. Here 
and there a gleam shone from some cot¬ 
tage window. “Another Gathering Day al¬ 
most over,” I murmured, rolling my um¬ 
brella tightly, and gathering my belong¬ 
ings together. I shook little heaps of 
sand into my boot heels that night, and 
could almost recall the vanished ghost of 
my childhood. I fell asleep worn out with 
happiness. adah e. colcord. 
Jams and Jellies. 
Plum and Green Grape Jelly.—Plums 
mixed with green grapes make the most 
delicious of all tart jellies. Small yellow 
plums are the best. Wash, pick and scald 
them with their own bulk of green grapes 
picked from the stem, strain out the juice, 
let it settle 10 minutes, then pour it care¬ 
fully off the sediment. Put in a shallow 
kettle over a quick fire, boil for five min¬ 
utes, skimming well; then add for each 
pint of juice a pound and a quarter of very 
hot granulated sugar; stir hard until the 
sugar dissolves; then skim again and boil 
hard for two minutes. Drop a little in ice 
water—the minute this hardens take it off 
the fire and pour into hot glasses. 
Almack’s Preserves.—This is a foreign 
recipe. Peel and stone one quart of large 
ripe plums; peel and slice one dozen apples 
and one dozen pears. Arrange in an 
earthen jar in alternate layers, adding one 
pound of sugar to each pound of fruit. Set 
on back of range on an asbestos mat and 
simmer slowly until a little when cooled 
on ice shows it to be of such a firm con¬ 
sistency that it can be cut with a knife, for 
it is to be served cut in slices. When suf¬ 
ficiently cooked put away in a shallow jar 
from which it will be easy to cut it out. 
Seal like jelly, with paraffin before cover¬ 
ing. 
Raisine Bourgogne.—Stem and seed 
two pounds of ripe grapes. Boil with one 
cup of water until soft. Press through a 
sieve and add two pounds of ripe pears, 
peeled and sliced; cook until reduced to 
half the amount. Weigh and add an equal 
amount of sugar, stir until the sugar is 
dissolved, strain again, put in small 
earthen jars, set in a plate-warming oven 
for a day or until firm to the touch. Tie 
down and keep in a cool place. 
Pear Jelly.—Select juicy pears that are 
not top ripe, quarter, core and cut in small 
pieces without paring. Put in a kettle 
with one pint of water to every four 
pounds of pears. Cook over a slow fire to 
a pulp, turn into a jelly bag which has 
been wrung out, and let drip without 
squeezing. Measure the juice and allow 
the same quantity of sugar. Put the liquid 
over the fire, bring to the boiling point 
and boil 20 minutes. In the meantime 
heat the sugar by spreading it out on pans 
and setting it in an open oven; when 
the pear juice has boiled twenty minutes 
add the heated sugar, stir until it is dis¬ 
solved, bring again to the boiling point, 
and boil until in dropping a spoonful on a 
cold saucer a skin forms quickly over it; 
this will generally occur after five or ten 
minutes’ boiling. Take from the fire and 
pour into jelly glasses. Let stand until 
cold, pour over the top of each glass a 
little melted paraffin, and when it hardens 
cover. 
Grape Jelly.—The wild grapes gathered 
just as they begin to turn are the best for 
jelly. Free them from their stems and 
wash them, mash them, and heat slowly; 
cook them until the juice is well drawn 
out; turn into a flannel bag and let it drip 
without pressure; measure the juice, and, 
if cultivated grapes are used, allow an 
equal amount of sugar; if the wild grape, 
allow a little more than an equal measure. 
Heat the sugar (put in a pan in the oven 
and stir often) ; boil the strained juice 15 
minutes; skim and strain again, add the 
sugar, boil until the surface looks 
wrinkled, skim well and turn into glasses. 
