1907. 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
595 
A Co-Operative Vacation. 
They sat on the shaded back porch. 
Miss Winnifred Weston rested comfort¬ 
ably in her rocking chair like one accus¬ 
tomed to relaxation and ease. 1 Her face 
was a little flushed from the exercise of 
walking, for she had just arrived, but her 
plump hands, lying idle in her lap, were 
very white. 
Miss Theresa Kent sat stiffly, erect in 
her hard kitchen chair. She was paring 
potatoes and all her motions were nerv¬ 
ous and energetic. Her hands were 
large and bony and brown from exposure 
to the sun. “Look tired, do I ?” she said 
with a short laugh. “Look just as I feel, 
then. I’m tired, tired, tired! I go to bed 
at night about dead and get up in the 
morning more tired than I was the night 
before. It’s the hot weather partly and 
it’s a good while since I’ve had a vaca¬ 
tion or any change.” 
“jCouldn’t you arrange it so you could 
go away for a week or two?” 
“A week or two!” Miss Kent repeated 
irritablv. “I guess you don’t know much 
about what I have to do. There are four 
of us to cook for and I want you to un¬ 
derstand that my three young nephews 
haven’t any canary-bird appetites—more 
like growing ostriches. Then, of course, 
the oldest one is only 17 and I don’t want 
to put everything on to him, nor work 
the others too hard, though they are real 
willing and I don’t find any fault with 
them. So I do a good many things out 
of doors. They seem to like to have me 
work with them, and we do have real 
jolly, sociable times hoeing and weeding 
together and getting in the hay. If I 
wasn’t so tired I’d just enjoy myself every 
minute; as it is life is a burden and I feel 
sometimes as if I’d like to get rid of it. 
There! I suppose you think I’m wicked, 
but I must admit that I’ve got the blues 
and got them bad, this afternoon.” 
“For my part,” said Miss Weston, “I 
think you are to be envied.” 
“Envied!” ejaculated Miss Kent with a 
look of incredulity. 
“Yes. You are making A home for 
your motherless and fatherless nephews; 
you are bringing them up to be useful 
members of society and your farming is 
a most interesting business. You are do¬ 
ing some good in the world, while as for 
me—what earthly use am I? I’d like to 
change places with you if I could and be 
necessary to some one’s happiness for a 
change.” 
Miss Kent laughed. “I wish you could,” 
she said. “I can’t imagine living as you 
do, with not a care, not a thing to do ex¬ 
cept take care of yourself, not even a cat 
to feed nor a plant to water.” She sighed 
wearily. “It would seem like Heaven.” 
She got up and carried the potatoes into 
the house and Miss Weston could hear 
the rattle of stove lids and the pouring of 
water. She sat very still, but a look of 
lively animation had taken the place of 
the slightly bored expression habitual to 
her face. 
Theresa came back with a work basket 
and some stockings, which she began to 
mend. 
“Why couldn’t we do it?” asked Winni¬ 
fred without preface or explanation. 
“Do what?” asked Theresa without 
looking up. 
“Change places for a while. I’d love to 
do it, and I think I could, for I used to 
work before I got so prosperous. I’m 
tired of resting and you are tired of 
working, and it would do us both a world 
of good. Say you will.” 
“Do you mean it?” asked Theresa slow¬ 
ly, looking up from her work. 
For answer Winnifred reached over 
and drew away the basket and stockings 
and went to work on them. “Go,” she 
said imperatively, “and change your dress. 
Then you can walk to the village, just as 
I was going to do in a few minutes, and 
I’ll stay here and get supper and put on 
one of your old dresses and take your 
place the best I can for a while. Do as 
I say,” she said, laughing, and Theresa 
- * t - 
with a few faint objections, but with .a been seasoned in the same way. Pour 
look of excitement on her face, did as she over all two more tablespoonfuls of oil 
was told. and send the dish to a hot oven, where 
“You’ll find the key hanging inside the the tomatoes must bake for about one 
blind of the window next the back door hour. 
and the milkman leaves a pint of milk 
every other day,” said Winnifred at part¬ 
ing. and Theresa said: “Don’t let the 
potatoes burn. You’ll find everything in 
the pantry for supper except the milk, 
and that’s down the well. The boys will 
tell you how to do things.” 
They did not see each other again for 
a week. This time Theresa sat in the 
rocker with idle hands and watched Win¬ 
nifred work. 
“How do you like it?” questioned The¬ 
resa. 
“Oh, I like it,” Winnifred answered, 
her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I 
feel as if I had a place in the scheme of 
things. It is so delightful to think that 
I am useful. I had some awfully funny 
times at first, but the boys put up with 
my blunders and gave me necessary in¬ 
structions, so I get along nicely now. 
There is a great deal of work to do, but 
I glory in it, and when your alarm clock 
wakes me in the morning I get up gladly 
and begin the joyous new day. And the 
boys are just dears. It is some time since 
I lived with people and I think now that 
it is the only way to live.” 
“I’m glad you like it,” said Theresa. 
“I like your way of living too. It is the 
only right way. It is such a blissful mo¬ 
ment when I awake in the morning and 
think that I haven’t got to get up till I 
want to. And then I sit around all day 
long and read and get my meals when I 
feel like it and go to the postoffice and 
just be as lazy as I know how. I dread 
giving it up.” 
“And I,” said Winnifred quickly. “I 
cannot endure the thought of giving up 
this life. Why can’t we try it a while 
longer?” 
“I don’t know why not.” 
Another week passed and Winnifred 
got her work done early and started on 
foot toward the village. Half way she 
met Theresa. They sat on the grass in 
the shade of a maple tree to talk things 
over. 
“I was coming home,” said Winnifred. 
“So was I,” returned Theresa. 
“I’ve had enough of the strenuous life 
New Potatoes in Butter—One of the 
nicest ways of preparing small new po¬ 
tatoes is to cook them in butter. Heat 
plenty of butter in some sort of pan that 
can be closely covered. Peel the potatoes, 
but do not slice them. Put them into the 
hot butter, cover down air tight and cook 
till the potatoes are done, shaking them 
about now and then. T hey should come 
out well browned all around and mealy 
and white within. Another way in which 
to cook new potatoes is somewhat similar, 
but demands that they first be boiled. 
Cook them in their jackets in unsalted 
water till done. Peel them immediately 
and put them into a frying pan with some 
very hot butter. If the butter is not at 
an intense heat the cooking will not be 
successful. Toss the potatoes about, un¬ 
covered, till they are nicely browned. 
Dust them with a little paprika and serve. 
String Beans and Bacon—Cut one or 
two slices of tender mild-cured bacon in 
tiny cubes and cook to a delicate brown in 
the frying pan. Add a pint of hot cooked 
and drained string beans and a few drops 
of onion juice. Shake the frying pan 
thoroughly. Add salt and pepper as 
needed and turn into a hot dish. Peas 
may be served in the same way. 
Okra and Corn—Cut up the okra and 
cut the corn from the ears, using equal 
quantities. Fry a slice of salt pork brown 
and remove from the grease. In the pan 
fry the okra for a few minutes and then 
put in the corn. Fry thoroughly without 
burning, season and add a teaspoonful of 
flour. When this has U'en stirred add a 
teacupful of chopped and fried tomatoes. 
If preferred milk may be substituted for 
the tomatoes, but okra, being rather in¬ 
sipid by itself, seems to need the acid of 
tomatoes. 
Baked Onions—Peel and cut in thick 
slices large white onions. Parboil in 
plenty of salted water, drain well, ar¬ 
range in a buttered baking dish, dot with 
bits of butter and bake until soft and a 
pale yellow. Sprinkle with salt and pep¬ 
per and cover with a half-inch layer of 
grated crumbs thickly dredged with grated 
cheese. Return to the oven long enough 
to melt the cheese. 
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i 
for a while.” 
“And I’ve had enough of luxurious 
idleness.” 
They looked at each other and smiled. 
“If I’d stayed till another morning I’d 
have smashed that alarm clock of yours.” 
“If I’d been obliged to stay another day 
I’d have borrowed a boarding house or 
an orphan asylum for the sake of having 
something to do.” 
“I shall sleep for 48 hours,” said Win¬ 
nifred. 
“I am longing to get home and go to 
work. I’ll never be blue again. And I’ve 
missed the boys so.” 
They rose to go. 
“I’ve come to the conclusion that we 
each like our own lives the best. We 
wouldn’t be living them if we didn’t. And 
when we think we’d like to be some one 
else it is just imagination,” said Winni¬ 
fred. 
“And the need of a vacation,” added 
Theresa. 
Then they said good-bye and with no 
backward glance each walked eagerly to¬ 
ward her home. 
SUSAN BROWN ROBBINS. 
Suggestions in Vegetables. 
Baked Tomatoes, Italian Style—Pour 
two tablespoonfuls of olive oil into a 
baking dish. Add four tablespoonfuls of 
grated bread crumbs that have already 
been mixed with parsley and other herbs, 
all of which must have been chopped very 
fine. Season with pepper and salt. LTpon 
this bed of oil and crumbs lay a dozen 
tomatoes that have been cut in halves. 
Cover them with four more tablespoon¬ 
fuls of bread crumbs that have previously 
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527 No. 24th Street Philadelphia, U. S, A. 
i 
