498 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
June 25, 
l Woman and Home ] 
From Day to Day. 
PIE. 
Why is it no one ever tries 
To learn who ’twas invented pies? 
What woman, beautiful and just, 
First rolled, and pinched, and cut the crust, 
And, to alleviate distress, 
Filled it with pungent happiness? 
First, there is juicy apple pie— 
For this did Father Adam sign. 
It was no apple, red aiid sweet, 
That led astray his halting feet— 
it must have been an apple pie 
That loomed before his longing eye. 
Such pie—such apple pie, forsooth, 
As folks remember from their youth— 
A pie with prinked and crumpled edge, 
Each slice of which would make a wedge 
To fetch one’s good intent apart * 
From any clutch on mind or heart; 
it is no wonder, after all, 
That Adam was inclined to fall. 
Then, there are chicken pie and Iamb, 
And oyster, mutton, veal and ham, 
And currant and gooseberry pie, 
Blackberry, prune and cherry pie. 
Peach, plum and sweet potato pie— 
Say, ever eat tomato pie? 
Tomato pie, almost unknown, 
Yet it deserves a pastry throne, 
For when it glows aright we see 
The purple robe of royalty; 
And oh, the taste and tang of it 
When by a hungry human bit! 
Such stuff as dreams: aye, dreams like these; 
That comets are the bits of cheese 
And all the planets In the sky, 
And little stars, are luscious pie! 
Our hearts in gladness to immerse 
By eating through the universe! 
Oh, one should never criticise 
'The sober souls who scoff at pies, 
Whose views of pies are dark and grim, 
For they leave so much pie for him ! 
Come build a tablet, set it high : 
“To Him or Her Who First Made Pie.” 
Oh, pie! Oh, my! 
—Chicago Tribune. 
• 
Wash belts, in white or colors, are a 
necessary adjunct to the washing frock. 
'I he materials are canvas, basket cheviot 
or pique, one of the prettiest styles being 
made to hook under a large crocheted 
ring, which takes the place of a buckle. 
This style costs 35 cents, but there is a 
large variety from 25 to 75 cents. 
* 
One of the coolest looking shirtwaist 
dresses one could desire is made of green 
and white gingham trimmed with white 
linen pipings, and with a white kid belt. 
Plain blue chambray, with a turn-down 
collar and deep cuffs of eyelet embroid¬ 
ery or plain linen, is another satisfactory 
thing; so is plain navy blue dimity. These 
shirt-waist dresses are the very thing for 
country wear; the materials are cheap, 
and they can he made by the home seam¬ 
stress with little trouble, so one may be 
prettily and suitably dressed with small 
expenditure; $1.50 will buy material for 
such a dress in lawn, fine percale, cam¬ 
bric or chambray; $2 to $2.50 in madras 
or dimity. 
* 
Strawberry custard pie is worth trying. 
Line a deep pie-pan with pie-crust, brush 
with white of egg, sprinkle with macaroon 
crumbs, fill about three-quarters full with 
fresh strawberries and sprinkle them with 
sugar. Beat the yolks of two eggs and a 
fourth of a cupful of sugar until light, 
add a fourth of a cupful of hot milk, 
and pour over the berries. Bake in a 
moderate oven, cool slightly when done 
and spread with a meringue made of the 
whites of two eggs beaten stiff, two table¬ 
spoonfuls of sugar and two macaroons 
crumbled fine. Bake in a slow oven until 
the meringue is firm. We have eaten a 
very nice strawberry meringue pie made 
by lining a pie plate with rich crust, 
which was brushed with white of egg and 
lightly baked, then filled with strawber¬ 
ries, well sprinkled with sugar. A stiff 
meringue was put over the berries, and 
the pie then returned to the oven long 
enough to brown the meringue. The 
browning being quickly done, the berries 
are not cooked at all. 
A tall woman with a determined ex¬ 
pression, and surrounded by six children 
of assorted sizes, says the Youth’s Com¬ 
panion, approached the attendant of the 
menagerie and eyed him with a relentless 
gaze. 
‘What nationality is that elephant?” 
she inquired, indicating one close at hand. 
“Comes from Africa, ma’am,” said the 
attendant. 
“He’s dreadful light-colored to have 
come from tropical parts,” said the wo¬ 
man, sternly. “And look here,” she add¬ 
ed, as the attendant started away from 
her family group, “they’ve got a mighty 
poor lot of camels here, according to my 
lights. Not hut one hump on any of ’em 
except that feller that’s so old he keeps 
his eyes shut!” 
The attendant again essayed to depart, 
but she clutched him by the sleeve. 
“You tell the owners of this show what 
I say!” she commanded. “You tell ’em 
that when a woman pays fifty cents for 
herself and $1.50 for a mess of chil¬ 
dren she looks to see more’n one double 
bumper, and more hair on the single 
bumpers—not have ’em look as if the 
moths had got into ’em. Now mind you 
tell ’em!” 
* 
Skirts of walking length are responsi¬ 
ble for one very sensible reform in dress, 
and that is the wearing of shorter petti¬ 
coats. Since all elaborate dress costumes 
are made with a silk foundation skirt, 
there is no need for the very long under¬ 
skirt, and in the future we are not likely 
to see women holding up a dress skirt, 
while the underskirt trails in the mire. 
French women have never been guilty of 
this habit, reasonably short underskirts 
being their invariable custom. This year 
the shorter underskirts are called golf pet¬ 
ticoats, and they are made in all sorts of 
materials; among the silks, pongee is 
especially a feature; fine mohair is less 
expensive than the silk, and very pretty, 
costing from $2.25 to $5. For general 
wear under colored wash dresses a firm 
quality of lawn in solid colors, or striped 
gingham, will he found most desirable. 
Dress reformers still speak occasionally 
of the dragging weight of underskirts 
Fashion inflicts upon her followers, but in 
reality most dressmakers will refuse to 
fit a gown over more than one under¬ 
skirt, and that a very thin and light one. 
It is still possible for a foolish woman 
to make herself very uncomfortable 
through following what she believes to he 
fashion, hut it is equally possible for an 
intelligent one to dress in accordance with 
the demands of health and comfort, while 
observing the requirements of the prevail¬ 
ing mode. _ 
Some of Mother’s Ways. 
“Mother’s ways” were not learned (nor 
have they yet been taught) at any cook¬ 
ing-school ; Mother’s “receipt book” never 
came out of a printing office. Mother 
would have “taken little stock in ’em,” 
if she had lived until cooking classes and 
cook books had made their advent. Dear 
old grandmama puzzled her brains, and 
wrinkled her forehead, and pushed her 
glasses higher and higher up over her 
“fore-piece,” as she tried to think into 
words, how she did things. Her “ways” 
had become automatic, and when her 
daughter was about to be married, she 
discovered with horror that the years 
spent at boarding-school from 18G0 to 
1870 had added nothing to her daughter’s 
matrimonial equipment; in fact, it had 
subtracted such knowledge as she had ab¬ 
sorbed before she left home for a finish¬ 
ing school. Poor grandma had a siege the 
first year instructing Ursuline Eugenia. 
“How to make gingerbread ? Why, Ur¬ 
suline, don’t you know? I’ve made it 
light as a feather, ever since T was knee- 
high to a grasshopper. Why, just take 
the mixing bowl, after washing your face 
and hands, and brushing all the hairs off 
your shoulders, and putting on a clean 
apron, and hold the molasses jug up over 
it, and let it go gurglety-gurglety two or 
three times, then wipe off the throat and 
put in the stopple, then put in a fair siz¬ 
able piece of lard, or butter, and mix to¬ 
gether. Then dissolve a bit of saleratus.” 
“Oh, mother, how much is a ‘sizable’ 
piece of butter? How much molasses 
comes out when it goes ‘gurglety-gur¬ 
glety’ two or three times?” 
“Child of mortality, haven’t you any 
judgment? Use your judgment. / know 
soon as I look at a heap of flour, or a 
pile of sugar, or molasses, milk or water, 
in a bowl, whether I have just enough, or 
too much. I never bother to measure. 
Pooh! I believe if you’d staid at Nortown 
much longer you’d lost all natural sense!” 
“But, after all, you don’t go by guess, 
as your talk indicates; really you do 
measure by your eye. Your proportions 
have become exact by practicing these 30 
years. Now, I can’t do it yet; maybe I 
can, though, when I am 50 !” The result 
was that after following her mother about 
the pantry and closely studying her 
“ways,” the set of recipes was secured 
and set down in the unfinished copy-book 
of her school days. When grandma 
studied out the proportions with Ursu- 
line’s hell) the first receipt was called far¬ 
mer’s gingerbread: 
Beat one heaping tahlespoonful of but¬ 
ter (if short of butter, use lard or drip¬ 
pings) into one cupful of molasses. Then 
dissolve one level teaspoonful of saleratus 
in one cupful of cold water, add a quar¬ 
ter teaspoonful of salt, half a teaspoonful 
of ginger, or other spice, and mix to¬ 
gether, adding sifted flour until the batter 
will round up and “heap” the spoon when 
lifted up. Butter a heated tin, pour this 
batter in, and bake in a quick oven. This 
phrase “a quick oven,” bothered the hoard¬ 
ing-school girl, hut she soon learned that 
if she could hold her hand in the oven 
half a minute feeling a good, strong heat, 
hut with no desire to withdraw her hand 
to escape discomfort, that she had “a 
moderate oven,” fit for bread, Indian pud¬ 
dings, and fruit cake. If, however, she 
could scarcely bear the heat 30 seconds, 
she had “a quick oven!” 
“Mother’s ice cream,” was put in a 
milk-can, stirred with a pudding stick 
and frozen in the wash-tub, but it was fit 
for a king’s eating, and one of her best 
recipes was for use in the butter season, 
when cream could not be spared. As it 
was creamy, yet creamless, she called it 
city ice cream: One egg, beaten white 
and yolk separately. Grate the yellow of 
one large lemon on to one-half cupful of 
fine white sugar, then squeeze the juice 
of this lemon on to the sugar also; stir it 
well, and pour into one quart sweet milk, 
heat it together till it thickens like cream, 
put into the can and freeze. This receipt 
is in continual use to this day in the 
family where it originated; to-day there 
is no spoon heating, hut Grandma’s 
and Mother's recipes are “whipped” 
in the two model freezers! Mother has 
so many mouths for ice cream now that 
she mixes three quarts, then divides and 
into one portion adds crushed fruits, or 
chocolate. If not all used at dinner, it is 
Mother’s way to close the can closely, and 
again pack it with ice and salt. 
Mother’s ice cream was made as fol¬ 
lows: One pint and a half of sweet milk, 
and one-half pint of sweet cream, sweet¬ 
ened and flavored to the family taste, and 
frozen. Any custard, tapioca or corn¬ 
starch pudding can he boiled, then set to 
freeze like cream, mother says! 
A second recipe has “more body” and 
suits some tastes better than the thinner, 
creamier cream: Beat the whites and 
yokes separately, the whites to a stiff 
froth, using two eggs, one level cupful 
of fine sugar, one heaping teaspoonful of 
cornstarch, or sifted flour, and stir well 
into one quart of milk, which has been 
heated next to the boiling point. Stir 
until it thickens to a cream-like consist¬ 
ency, then set to cool. When tepid, strain 
through a line wire strainer, and add one 
half pint of real cream. Taste it, and if 
the family taste demands, add more sugar, 
breeze as usual. Mother’s ways of pre¬ 
paring her fruit are simple and good, 
hirst, boil a half dozen large cranberries, 
mash, sift and beat to a cream, it gives a 
rich flavor to three pints of cream. Pre¬ 
paring fruit for creams or puddings, mash 
and strain a box of overripe strawberries; 
it will make rich flavoring for three pints 
of cream; it is richer than three quarts of 
restaurant cream. One quart of peaches 
mashed and strained, makes a finer flavor¬ 
ing than when sliced and mixed in. Ba¬ 
nanas and pineapples are better when 
mashed finely in the fruit crusher, or 
pressed through the coarse meshed strain¬ 
er, than when coarsely sliced—suggest¬ 
ing Saratoga chips frozen in. For sher¬ 
bets, “Mother’s way” is to make a lemon¬ 
ade, orange, or raspberry drink, then set to 
freeze more or less hard as desired—10 
minutes for a light freeze, more time al¬ 
lowed if desirable. keziaii siielton. 
Entire Wheat Bread. 
I would like to say a few words in be¬ 
half of entire wheat bread; if people 
knew its worth they would eat no other, 
because of its beneficial effect on the di¬ 
gestive tract. Use entire wheat and 
Spring wheat flour; mix two parts.entire 
to one of Spring wheat, and use with any 
good yeast, or you can use all entire flour, 
just as you like. Make just like while 
bread. Here is the yeast I use: One cup¬ 
ful grated raw potato, one heaping tahle¬ 
spoonful sugar, one of flour, two tea¬ 
spoonfuls salt, one quart boiling water, one 
cupful old yeast. Mix sugar, flour and 
salt in granite pan, pare and grate pota¬ 
toes, mix with the dry mixture, stir in 
the water, which must he boiling rapidly; 
use enough to make a batter like thin 
starch. Place pan on stove and stir con¬ 
stantly until it boils five minutes. When 
it is cool add the cupful of yeast (or two 
yeast cakes dissolved in water), cover 
with plate, let stand to rise in a warm 
place until light and foamy. Stir it sev¬ 
eral times during the rising; put in glass 
jar and next day seal it tightly and keep 
in cool place. When wishing to hake, 
boil five potatoes, scald half a cupful 
Spring wheat flour with the potato water, 
then add mashed potatoes and one table¬ 
spoonful each of sugar and salt. When 
cool add two cupfuls of the yeast from 
the glass jar for 8 to 10 loaves of bread, 
one cup for less bread. Let stand over 
night; in the morning take out a cup or 
more of yeast, put back in the glass jar 
with the rest; set away as before, then 
add more salt and warm water to your 
yeast according to the amount of bread 
you wish to make. Stir in the flour that 
is well mixed and warmed over a pan of 
warm wat^r, two parts entire to one of 
Spring wheat flour to a thick hatter, let 
rise. Then knead into dough until elas¬ 
tic; remove all the flour that you did not 
use from the pan, let it rise. When set¬ 
ting out in pans grease the hands with 
lard, cut off a piece of dough the size of 
loaf, knead in shape in the hands a very 
little; use no hoard. Let it rise, bake 
from 45 minutes to one hour. When 
taken out of oven lay on hoard and grease 
tne top with lard; use a wide paint brush 
kept for that purpose. Do not cover and 
you will have soft crust. You can make 
biscuits or gems from the flour, but it is 
not good for pie crust; it makes crust 
tough. It is the bread for a working 
man’s lunch: he feels as if he had eaten 
something that stays by him. It can be 
made with yeast foam or compressed 
yeast. mrs. s. j. perry. 
Hickory Nut Cake. —One and a half 
cupfuls of sugar, one and three-quarters 
cupful sweet milk, one-half cupful butter, 
one cupful hickory nut meats broken fine, 
two cupfuls flour, two eggs, one teaspoon¬ 
ful baking powder. Cream the butter and 
sugar, and roll the nut meats in flour and 
add the last thing. Sift the flour and 
baking powder together three or four 
times. aunt rachel. 
