In New .Jersey, a woman made the 
lowest bid for carrying the mails and 
the contract was given her. Her dis¬ 
appointed rivals tried to assuage their 
grief by calling her “ new woman,” etc. 
One of them, however, went too far and 
has been arrested for defaming her char¬ 
acter. He will, probably, learn that a 
woman already has some ^rights that 
must be respected, among them the 
right to do any work which she is cap¬ 
able of doing, without becoming a sub¬ 
ject for public abuse. 
* 
Max O’Rei.l says of the American 
woman, “She is the superior of her hus¬ 
band in education, and almost in every 
respect,” and then proceeds to find fault 
with her because she desires to vote. 
* 
IIow many agree with our correspond¬ 
ent in “ Kitchen Notes,” that a little 
soap should be used in washing the skin 
of a chicken before cooking '? Our lead¬ 
ing authorities on cooking would be 
horrified at such a proceeding. 
* 
How many of you would be willing to 
touch your dishcloth to your lips just as 
you would a napkin ? This is not a far¬ 
fetched test, but a very sensible one to 
decide whether you keep the dishcloth 
as clean as it should be. It comes in 
contact with the dishes on which your 
food is placed. Bee, then, that you do 
not turn up your nose if the humble 
dishcloth make a closer acquaintance 
with you. Don’t invite the germs of 
disease to become summer boarders with 
you. _ 
A JAR OF JELLY. 
HOW IT IS MADE AND SOLD. 
Part HI. 
Currants and Cherries. 
ND now comes our rushing season, 
currants and cherries together, 
and in such quantities, that everybody 
gets worn out with the constant work 
and late hours, coming as they usually 
do in the very hot weather. It would 
be hard telling where the thermometer 
stands where we are working, even if 
it seems cool outside. For preserved 
and pickled cherries, we use only the 
large white ones. These all have to be 
pitted, and this is done by hand. Never 
be persuaded into buying a che rry pit- 
ter, for the pitters are a delusion. To 
use one, the cherries have to be sorted ; 
this takes time. Then they crush the 
pits, and these go in small pieces in with 
the cherries. Besides, the fruit is so 
torn, that it is very unsightly. The 
manufacturers of these machines would, 
no doubt, disagree with this statement; 
but I think that they will have to admit 
the truth of it. 
We are very particular to have the 
cherry kept as whole as possible. We 
put up ripe, red, sour cherries, for pies. 
These are only canned, not preserved, 
though they are rich enough to be used 
as sauce. They are also pitted, and put 
in pint jars. We use quarts for our 
pickles, pints for preserves, and tumblers 
for jellies and jams. 
The season for currants is short. We 
usually rush work for one week in jelly 
making. After this, we fear that they 
are too ripe. The man of whom we buy 
our currants,has been repeatedly charged 
to bring them fresh, not too ripe, and not 
after a rain till both bushes and fruit 
have had ample time to have the water 
absorbed. We have a homemade con¬ 
trivance for crushing the currants—an 
inclined plane with pieces nailed on the 
sides, \)4 inch high, with a roller the 
same width as the board, with handles 
like a rolling pin. The currants are 
placed on the board, and the roller ap¬ 
plied by hand; any child can use it. This 
is placed at a convenient height with a 
pan underneath for the fruit and juice. 
We have tried several machines that are 
advertised to do this kind of work, but 
none of them has proved satisfactory. 
When the fruit is crushed, it is put in a 
large saucepan, and allowed to boil. All 
the currants are broken in this way. 
Then we have a good-sized hand press ; 
putting the fruit into a bag, we place it 
in this press, and then we have to call 
on the other half of the house to extract 
the juice for us ; this comes out a clear, 
beautiful color. It is then strained and 
measured, everybody’s rule of a pound 
of sugar to a pint of juice being also 
mine. Heat the sugar and boil the juice. 
I know of a score of recipes for making 
currant jelly, and many of them are very 
good ; but if the fruit is too ripe, even 
no sure way will make them jelly. If 
only the juice which drips out be used 
for jelly, the color will be much finer, but 
it will not be firm or stand transporta¬ 
tion. It needs some of the pulp to give 
it body. If on taking up a glass of jelly, 
it moves about from the glass, do not 
condemn it. Ten to one it will keep its 
shape when turned out. Besides, if cur¬ 
rant jelly stands perfectly firm, and is 
very dark, be sure it is not pure juice 
and sugar alone. 
We make 84 tumblers in one cookiDg. 
One thing I found out by experience, 
and that is to reject the large, new varie¬ 
ties of currants. They look tempting 
and beautiful on the bushes, and are the 
best for spicing ; but they will not make 
jelly. They give a much larger quan¬ 
tity of juice, but it is too thin. Ihere 
is no currant for jelly like the old-fash¬ 
ioned Dutch. It is objectionable, too, 
to use many white currants with the red; 
it hurts the color, and the juice is not 
nearly so rich. Currant jam is very 
nice ; we prefer it to the jelly. Stem 
and crush the currants, boil without 
sugar, until tender ; add the sugar,* cup¬ 
ful for cupful, and boil till clear. Spiced 
currants are very palatable with cold 
meats. 
The outlook for fruit in this section 
this year is very poor. There were 
scarcely any blossoms of cherries, 
peaches, plums or quinces, the intense 
cold of the winter, I suppose, being the 
cause. We sometimes wonder if we will 
be able to find all we need, but eyery 
year, if fruit does not grow here, it does 
somewhere else, and there are plenty of 
large fruit growers in so many places, 
that we have always found what we 
needed. A great many firms use some 
kind of preservative in their jellies and 
jams. I do not know what it is. We 
have always prided ourselves on the 
purity of our fruits, using nothing but 
pure juice and sugar. 
MRS. O. P. HOWLAND. 
KITCHEN NOTES. 
HAVF been at a loss to account for 
the plight of the women who had to 
cast about for securing a supply of hot 
dishwater, as I have not seen, in years, 
a new stove without a copper reservoir 
holding two large pailfuls of water, at¬ 
tached on a level with the top of the 
stove. I remember two stoves having 
the tanks on top ; but in both cases, the 
owners abandoned their use, it was such 
back-breaking work to fill them. 1 would 
suggestasthe soft water supply, in place 
of an underground cistern, a tank in the 
kitchen chamber, as being cheaper, 
more convenient and healthful. Such 
tanks come from the hardware dealers 
in two parts, to be secured together 
when in the desired position. A pipe 
connects with the kitchen sink, and ar¬ 
rangements are easily made for a large 
supply of hot water by running a pipe 
through the range. A stopcock next the 
tank to shut the water oft’ at night, 
guards against the danger of bursted 
pipes in zero weather. 
I possess one convenience that is not 
often included in plans for a model 
kit chen—a clothes room—and the kitchen 
presents a more sightly appearance with¬ 
out the overfilled nails and hooks on 
which the men are wont to hang their 
everyday clothing. This room is also 
the resort of the cooky jars, vinegar and 
molasses jugs, egg basket, lantern, iron¬ 
ing board, mitten box, and carpet- 
sweeper. The lamps, also, during the 
day, perch on the top shelf, secure from 
dust; and last, but not least, the bread 
is kept here the year around, in a tin 
boiler under the shelves, saving many 
steps and much time running up and 
down cellar. 
There is much lamentation concern¬ 
ing the lack of dining-rooms in farm¬ 
houses. While they are desirable, many 
of us are obliged to make the best of 
what we have. One can manage quite 
nicely with a good oil-stove in the wood- 
house in summer, and in cold weather, 
the cook stove is not such a disagreeable 
neighbor after all. By reason then, of 
the general-purpose kitchen, a conven¬ 
ient pantry large enough to work in is 
almost a necessity in order to keep the 
kitchen always presentable. All mixing, 
dishwashing, churning, working butter, 
even the washing and sometimes the 
ironing (the last only in winter), are 
done in the pantry. It is only a step to 
the stove. All shelves are covered with 
table oilcloth, wiped once a week ; this 
makes less work, and looks just as neat 
as papers. The table is always set and 
covered with an old linen table-cloth ; 
cheesecloth is all right in theory, or in a 
dining-room, but something thicker is 
needed here to keep out dust. We 
always use a white cloth to eat on, but 
find that it lasts clean longer by being 
careful, and by using tray cloths, doilies, 
etc., and a large napkin under each 
plate, which is changed as often as 
needed. It is much easier to wash nap¬ 
kins than table-cloths. 
I have found a new use for the scrub¬ 
bing brush, the small five-cent kind that 
I use to clean vegetables. After a 
chicken is picked and singed, I lay it in 
a pan and with the brush and a very 
little soap, and some lukewarm water, 
I can, in a few minutes, make the skin 
fit to eat. Just try it once, and you’ll 
be satisfied that there was some use for 
it. SWEET FERN. 
JOHN'S BOYS. 
HE spare room is neat and dainty, 
with its fresh matting and white 
draperies, and has afforded me much 
satisfaction since its spring renovation ; 
but now I look at it ruefully. John’s 
boys are coming next week ; and a vision 
of the condition it was in after their last 
summer visit, comes before me—crum¬ 
pled curtains, torn draperies, stained 
carpet, broken crockery and all. For a 
moment, I feel like writing, “ It will not 
be convenient.” But John is a dear 
brother, and his happy, romping, 
thoughtless boys are dear, too. Sister- 
in-law Margaret will be airing her pretty 
gowns at Narragansett, and coolly telling 
her friends, “ The boys are rusticating 
on the farm at auntie’s,” without a 
thought of the burdened shoulders of 
auntie, who, at this season, must be al¬ 
ways busy cooking and caring for extra 
farm help, canning and pickling surplus 
fruit and vegetables, and doing the 
thousand and one duties of a farmer’s 
wife. 
Biddy, tried beyond endurance last 
year, gave the boys a rating the morn¬ 
ing the big water pitcher was so griev¬ 
ously wounded in a pillow fight, and 
said, “I don’t believe your ma lets you 
tie knots in the window curtains, and 
kick the rugs in corners, or slop water 
all over ! ” 
“Course she don’t,” says saucy Fred. 
“ Mamma’s curtains are nice lace, and 
the rugs are good, thick Turkeys that 
don’t kick up and get in a fellow’s way 
like these old rag ones. And auntie 
ought to have a bathroom; then we 
wouldn’t have to wet her carpet all up ; 
and as for that old pitcher, it’s just a 
common one, and she can buy another !” 
Ah ! Fred ; you didn’t know what a 
lot of eggs it took to pay for that toilet 
set, or how long auntie waited for it. 
She knows only too well that she ought 
to have a bathroom, and knows, also, that 
nine out of ten farmhouses are unsup¬ 
plied with such a luxury. As all these 
memories come to me, I am tempted to 
be honest, and say, “ Keep your boys at 
home ; I have enough to do without 
waiting on them.” But, then, I remem¬ 
ber John, who will be toiling at his desk 
in the hot city, eating meals at restau¬ 
rants, and sleeping alone in his dis¬ 
mantled house, that wife and boys may 
have a happy vacation. Country life 
was good for those boys, too. Fred 
looked dreadfully peaked when he came, 
and John wrote me a thankful letter 
when he returned so brown and robust. 
Yes, they shall come; but I do wish 
that our city visitors would be a little 
more considerate, and remember that, 
humble as our furnishings are, they are 
precious to us, as they minister to our 
necessities, and we do not want them to 
be destroyed wantonly. mary mann. 
AN APPEAL TO MOTHERS. 
EVER be too busy, too tired, or 
too impatient to enter into the 
confidences of your smallest child, says 
Margaret Gray Brooks in the Home 
Queen. When your little five-year-old 
girl runs to you, her winsome face all 
aglow with excitement, and says raptur¬ 
ously, “Oh, mamma ! I do so like Bob¬ 
bie Smith. I think he’s so nice—and he 
likes me, too! ” do not ridicule the 
child, and do not turn to your friend 
with the remark that “it is beau age 
already but take your darling on your 
knee, let her pour out all her sweet 
thoughts, show her your undisguised 
interest in her little companions and 
friendships. Find out why this particu¬ 
lar Bobbie is “so nice,” why she likes 
him, and if the affection is reciprocated; 
and, later, should you consider it best 
that the friendship be discontinued, 
take a tender way of doing it; but, 
above all, do not put your child away 
with a laugh. She is only a child, but 
her heart will be deeply hurt, and she 
will think with the tears swimming in 
her bonnie eyes, “Mamma doesn’t want 
to hear about my Bobbie,” and the next 
time she will not run so eagerly to your 
side with her childish confidences. 
Some mothers will rise en masse and 
say, “ Such ideas should not be encour¬ 
aged in children.” I do not say that 
they should; I simply ask that you do 
not sacrifice the most beautiful bless¬ 
ings of motherhood—the confidence of 
your child. Is it not better to listen to 
their little secrets, their joys and their 
sorrows; is it not better to encourage 
this confidence than to turn them aside 
with such remarks as “ I am too busy 
now ”, or “ I am too tired to-night, 
dear ”, and suffer the result in years to 
come ? 
Have your arms and heart always 
ready ; what may seem trivial to you 
is very important to them in their fresh, 
glowing, active lives. Meet your dear 
ones fairly; encourage them to open 
their hearts to you ; let this be your 
duty from their earliest childhood, and 
in the trying years of young man and 
young womanhood, you will know the 
souls of your children and be the one to 
