Read Ebook: Common Sense in the Household: A Manual of Practical Housewifery by Harland Marion

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 2830 lines and 207566 words, and 57 pages

COMMON SENSE

IN THE HOUSEHOLD

A MANUAL OF

PRACTICAL HOUSEWIFERY

BY MARION HARLAND.

NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1883.

GRANT, FAIRES & RODGERS, ELECTROTYPERS AND PRINTERS, PHILADELPHIA.

TO MY

FELLOW-HOUSEKEEPERS,

NORTH, EAST, SOUTH AND WEST, THIS VOLUME,

THE GLEANINGS OF MANY YEARS,

IS CORDIALLY

DEDICATED.

INTRODUCTORY OF REVISED EDITION.

It is not yet quite ten years since the publication of "COMMON SENSE IN THE HOUSEHOLD. GENERAL RECEIPTS." In offering the work to the publishers, under whose able management it has prospered so wonderfully, I said: "I have written this because I felt that such a Manual of Practical Housewifery is needed." That I judged aright, taking my own experience as a housekeeper as the criterion of the wants and perplexities of others, is abundantly proved by the circumstance which calls for this new and revised edition of the book. Through much and constant use--nearly 100,000 copies having been printed from them--the stereotype plates have become so worn that the impressions are faint and sometimes illegible. I gladly avail myself of the opportunity thus offered to re-read and so far to alter the original volume as may, in the light of later improvements in the culinary art and in my understanding of it, make the collection of family receipts more intelligible and available. Nor have I been able to resist the temptation to interpolate a few excellent receipts that have come into my hands at a later period than that of the publication of the last, and in my estimation, perhaps the most valuable of the "Common Sense Series," viz.: "THE DINNER YEAR-BOOK."

I am grateful, also, to the courtesy of my publishers for the privilege of thanking those to whom this book was, and is dedicated, "My fellow-housekeepers--North, East, South and West"--for their substantial endorsement of the work I have done in their behalf. A collection of the private letters I have received from those who have used the "General Receipts" would make a volume very nearly as large as this. If I have, as the writers of these testimonials assure me--"done them good,"--they have done me more in letting me know that I have not spent my strength for naught. I acknowledge with pleasure sundry pertinent suggestions and inquiries which have led me, in this revision, to examine warily the phraseology of some receipts and to modify these, I believe, for the better. But, by far, the best "good" done me through this work has been the conscious sisterhood into which I have come with the great body of American housewives. This is a benefit not to be rated by dollars and cents, or measured by time. I hope my fellow-workers will find their old kitchen-companion, in fresh dress, yet more serviceable than before, and that their daughters may, at the close of a second decade, demand new stereotype plates for still another, and, like this, a progressive edition.

MARION HARLAND.

INDEX OF GENERAL SUBJECTS.

FAMILIAR TALK

WITH MY

FELLOW-HOUSEKEEPER AND READER.

A TALK as woman to woman, in which each shall say, "I" and "you," and "my dear," and "you know," as freely as she pleases. It would not be a womanly chat if we omitted these forms of expression. An informal preface to what I mean shall be an informal book--bristling with "I's" all the way through. If said bristles offend the critic's touch, let him remember that this work is not prepared for the library, but for readers who trouble themselves little about editorial "we's" and the circumlocutions of literary modesty.

I wish it were in my power to bring you, the prospective owner of this volume, in person, as I do in spirit, to my side on this winter evening, when the bairnies are "folded like the flocks;" the orders for breakfast committed to the keeping of Bridget, or Gretchen, or Chloe, or the plans for the morrow definitely laid in the brain of that ever-busy, but most independent of women, the housekeeper who "does her own work." I should perhaps summon to our cozy conference a very weary companion--weary of foot, of hand--and I should not deserve to be your confidant, did I not know how often heart-weary with discouragement; with much producing of ways and means; with a certain despondent looking forward to the monotonous grinding of the household machine; to the certainty, proved by past experience, that toilsome as has been this day, the morrow will prove yet more abundant in labors, in trials of strength and nerves and temper. You would tell me what a dreary problem this of "woman's work that is never done" is to your fainting soul. How, try as you may and as you do to be systematic and diligent, something is always "turning up" in the treadmill to keep you on the strain. How you often say to yourself, in bitterness of spirit, that it is a mistake of Christian civilization to educate girls into a love of science and literature, and then condemn them to the routine of a domestic drudge. You do not see, you say, that years of scholastic training will make you a better cook, a better wife or mother. You have seen the time--nay, many times since assuming your present position--when you would have exchanged your knowledge of ancient and modern languages, belles-lettres, music, and natural science, for the skill of a competent kitchen-maid. The "learning how" is such hard work! Labor, too, uncheered by encouraging words from mature housewives, unsoftened by sympathy even from your husband, or your father or brother, or whoever may be the "one" to whom you "make home lovely." It may be that, in utter discouragement, you have made up your mind that you have "no talent for these things."

I have before me now the picture of a wife, the mother of four children, who, many years ago, sickened me for all time with that phrase. In a slatternly morning-gown at four in the afternoon, leaning back in the laziest and most ragged of rocking-chairs, dust on the carpet, on the open piano, the mantel, the mirrors, even on her own hair, she rubbed the soft palm of one hand with the grimy fingers of the other, and with a sickly-sweet smile whined out--

"Now, I am one of the kind who have no talent for such things! The kitchen and housework and sewing are absolutely hateful to me--utterly uncongenial to my turn of mind. The height of my earthly ambition is to have nothing to do but to paint on velvet all day!"

I felt then, in the height of my indignant disgust, that there was propriety as well as wit in the "Spectator's" suggestion that every young woman should, before fixing the wedding-day, be compelled by law to exhibit to inspectors a prescribed number of useful articles as her outfit--napery, bed-linen, clothing, etc., made by her own hands, and that it would be wise legislation which should add to these proofs of her fitness for her new sphere a practical knowledge of housework and cookery.

There is no use in enlarging upon this point. You and I might compare experiences by the hour without exhausting our store.

"And then"--you sigh, with a sense of resentment upon you, however amiable your disposition, for the provocation is dire--"cookery-books and young housekeepers' assistants, and all that sort of thing, are such humbugs!--Dark lanterns at best--too often Will-o'-the-wisps."

My dear, would you mind handing me the book which lies nearest you on the table there? "Dickens?" Of course. You will usually find something of his in every room in this house--almost as surely as you will a Bible. It rests and refreshes one to pick him up at odd times, and dip in anywhere. Hear the bride, Mrs. John Rokesmith, upon our common grievance.

"She was under the constant necessity of referring for advice and support to a sage volume, entitled 'The Complete British Family Housewife,' which she would sit consulting, with her elbows upon the table, and her temples in her hands, like some perplexed enchantress poring over the Black Art. This, principally because the Complete British Housewife, however sound a Briton at heart, was by no means an expert Briton at expressing herself with clearness in the British tongue, and sometimes might have issued her directions to equal purpose in the Kamtchatkan language."

Don't interrupt me, my long-suffering sister! There is more of the same sort to come.

"There was likewise a coolness on the part of 'The Complete British Housewife' which Mrs. John Rokesmith found highly exasperating. She would say, 'Take a salamander,' as if a general should command a private to catch a Tartar. Or, she would casually issue the order, 'Throw in a handful' of something entirely unattainable. In these, the housewife's most glaring moments of unreason, Bella would shut her up and knock her on the table, apostrophizing her with the compliment--'O you ARE a stupid old donkey! Where am I to get it, do you think?'"

My wrestling begat naught save pitiable confusion, hopeless distress, and a three-days' sick headache, during which season I am not sure that I did not darkly contemplate suicide as the only sure escape from the meshes that girt me. At the height--or depth--of my despondency a friend, one with a great heart and steady brain, came to my rescue. Her cheerful laugh over my dilemma rings down to me now, through all these years, refreshingly as it then saluted my ears.

Then she opened to me her own neatly-written "Manual"--the work of years, recommending, as I seized it that I should commence my novitiate with simple dishes.

This was the beginning of the hoard of practical receipts I now offer for your inspection. For twenty years, I have steadily pursued this work, gleaning here and sifting there, and levying such remorseless contributions upon my friends, that I fear the sight of my paper and pencil has long since become a bugbear. For the kindness and courtesy which have been my invariable portion in this quest, I hereby return hearty thanks. For the encouraging words and good wishes that have ever answered the hint of my intention to collect what had proved so valuable to me into a printed volume, I declare myself to be yet more a debtor. I do not claim for my compend the proud pre-eminence of the "Complete American Housewife." It is no boastful system of "Cookery Taught in Twelve Lessons." And I should write myself down a knave or a fool, were I to assert that a raw cook or ignorant mistress can, by half-a-day's study of my collection, equal Soyer or Blot, or even approximate the art of a half-taught scullion.

We may as well start from the right point, if we hope to continue friends. You must learn the rudiments of the art for yourself. Practice, and practice alone, will teach you certain essentials. The management of the ovens, the requisite thickness of boiling custards, the right shade of brown upon bread and roasted meats--these and dozens of other details are hints which cannot be imparted by written or oral instructions. But, once learned, they are never forgotten, and henceforward your fate is in your own hands. You are mistress of yourself, though servants leave. Have faith in your own abilities. You will be a better cook for the mental training you have received at school and from books. Brains tell everywhere, to say nothing of intelligent observation, just judgment, a faithful memory, and orderly habits. Consider that you have a profession, as I said just now, and resolve to understand it in all its branches. My book is designed to help you. I believe it will, if for no other reason, because it has been a faithful guide to myself--a reference beyond value in seasons of doubt and need. I have brought every receipt to the test of common sense and experience. Those which I have not tried myself were obtained from trustworthy housewives--the best I know. I have enjoyed the task heartily, and from first to last the persuasion has never left me that I was engaged in a good cause. Throughout I have had you, my dear sister, present before me, with the little plait between your brows, the wistful look about eye and mouth that reveal to me, as words could not, your desire to "do your best."

"In a humble home, and in a humble way," I hear you add, perhaps. You "are not ambitious;" you "only want to help John, and to make him and the children comfortable and happy."

"A servant, with this clause, Makes drudgery divine; Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws Makes that and th' action fine."

I wonder if the sainted poet knows--in that land where drudgery is one of the rough places forever overpast, and work is unmingled blessing--to how many sad and striving hearts those words have brought peace?

Next, prepare each ingredient for mixing, that the bread, cake, pudding, soup, or rago?t may not be delayed when half finished because the flour is not sifted, or the "shortening" warmed, the sugar and butter are not creamed, the meat not cut up, or the herbs not minced. Don't begin until you are ready; then go steadily forward, "without haste, without rest," and think of what you are doing.

"Dickens again?"

Why not, since there is no more genial and pertinent philosopher of common life and every-day subjects? To quote, then--

"It was a maxim of Captain Swosser's," said Mrs. Badger, "speaking in his figurative, naval manner, that when you make pitch hot, you cannot make it too hot, and that if you have only to swab a plank, you should swab it as if Davy Jones were after you. It appears to me that this maxim is applicable to the medical as well as the nautical profession."

"To all professions!" observed Mr. Badger. "It was admirably said by Captain Swosser; beautifully said!"

I have not said one-tenth of that which is pressing upon my heart and mind, yet I fear you may think me trite and tedious. One suggestion more, and we will proceed to the details of business.

I believe that, so far as care can avail in securing such a result, my receipts are accurate. But in the matter of seasoning and other minor details, consult your judgment and John's taste. Take this liberty with whatever receipt you think you can improve. If I chance to find in your work-basket, or upon the kitchen dresser, a well-thumbed copy of my beloved "Common Sense," with copious annotations in the margin, I shall, so far from feeling wounded, be flattered in having so diligent a student, and, with your permission, shall engraft the most happy suggestions upon the next edition.

For the speedy issue of which, the petitioner doth humbly pray.

MARION HARLAND.

NOTE.

In looking over this book the reader will notice certain receipts marked thus--?. I do not claim for these greater merit than should of right be accorded to many others. I merely wish to call the attention of the novice to them as certainly safe, and for the most part simple. Every one thus marked has been tried by myself; most of them are in frequent, some in daily use, in my own family.

My reason for thus singling out comparatively a small number of receipts from the rest, is the recollection of my own perplexities--the loss of time and patience to which I have been subjected in the examination of a new cookery-book, with an eye to immediate use of the directions laid down for various dishes. I have often and vainly wished for a finger-board to guide me in my search for those which were easy and sure, and which would result satisfactorily. This sort of directory I have endeavored to supply, taking care, however, to inform the reader in advance that, so far as I know, there is not an unsafe receipt in the whole work.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet