Margaret put a tablespoonful of borax in the water, rung out her cloth, and washed out all the inside of the great box, poking a little stick into the corners, and scrubbing the shelves thoroughly, as well as the sides and bottom. Then she wiped them dry and the food was put in again neatly. There had been a small pan of charcoal in one corner, and this was emptied on a paper and the pan refilled from a bag near by and put back.
"What do you put black charcoal in the clean box for?" Margaret asked, curiously.
"Because it dislikes a disagreeable odor, and destroys it at once," her aunt replied. "We change this pan every few days because it will take up only so much, whilefresh charcoal will keep everything sweet and nice; Bridget burns up what is not fresh, putting it in the fire when she wants to broil or toast, for it makes a clear fire without flame. It only costs a few cents for a large bagful, and we can always have it on hand.
"Remember to wash out your refrigerator at least three times a week. This is very important, indeed; if you forget it somebody in the family may be very ill. If you have not time to wash it out and still sweep the parlors, let the parlors go!"
Just as they finished they noticed the garbage pail outside the door and took a look into it. It was nearly empty, so Margaret got a dipper of boiling water and a handful of washing-soda and put them in, as her aunt told her, to keep the pail from getting greasy and sour. "The better the housekeeper the less she has in her garbage pail, and the cleaner it is kept," she said, as she put back the cover.
"We have still one pleasant thing and one disagreeable thing to do before we aredone this morning; which would you rather take first?" asked the aunt.
Margaret said she thought she would keep the pleasant one to finish off with.
"Then get a newspaper," was the reply, "and spread it over the table, first of all."
"That's the way most kitchen lessons seem to begin," said Margaret, as she took one from the paper drawer. "'First get a newspaper.'"
"And very sensible, too," smiled her aunt. "It saves so much work if everything can be carried away and the table left clean at once. You may go to the closet and bring the box of things for the lamps while I bring the large one from the sitting-room."
The box proved to have in it two cloths, one of flannel, and a white one free from lint; a pair of scissors; a round brush with a wire handle, and a piece of soap.
The lamp was taken to pieces, filled with kerosene from the can kept in the cellar-way, and wiped off nicely. The charred wick was rubbed and trimmed, and thecorners rounded a little to keep them from throwing the flame against the sides of the chimney and breaking it. The glass chimney was put in a basin of warm water with soap-suds, and washed with the flannel cloth, rubbed with the round brush, and wiped dry with the white cloth. Whenever a new wick was put in a lamp, Margaret was told, the burner should be boiled with washing-soda to free it from clogging oil, and if a wick ever smelled it was to be cooked a few minutes in vinegar and dried, and it would then be all right again. When the lamp was put back they gathered up the things used, and put the newspaper with the kindling for the kitchen fire.
"Now for the pleasant thing," Margaret said, as she carried away the oil-can and washed her hands. "I don't think doing lamps is very nice work."
"No, it is not," her aunt replied; "but it is certainly very nice to have a clear, strong light to read by at night, and you cannot have that unless the lamp is perfectly clean, so the work is worth doing.Look now on the closet shelf once more and find another box with the silver polish, while I go for the basket from the sideboard."
Once more a newspaper was spread on the table, and they set out the box of powder, a small flannel cloth, a little saucer of water, a soft brush, and a chamois. They dipped the flannel into the water, then into the powder, and rubbed the pieces of silver well, scrubbing them with the brush, except where they were perfectly smooth, as in the bowls of the spoons. When it was done they washed it in hot water, wiped it dry, and polished it well with the chamois, and it shone like new.
As they put it away again they counted it carefully, using the list which was kept in the bottom of the basket; every piece was there, fortunately, so no time was lost in hunting for it.
"Do you count the silver every time it is cleaned?" Margaret inquired, as she took up the basket to put it away.
"Every single time," said her aunt,firmly. "It must always be done. One can find a missing spoon when it first disappears, but not after it has been gone a month or more."
"We are all done," Margaret said, cheerfully, as they put the kitchen to rights. "Won't Bridget be pleased when she sees her clean refrigerator and pantry, and the nice shiny silver,—and the garbage pail too! That looks just as nice as can be!"
"Of course it does," said her aunt. "Everything looks nice when it is clean."
"I think it must be my turn to give you your lesson to-day," said Margaret's Pretty Aunt at breakfast-time, "because I have thought of something none of your other teachers have as much as mentioned. You can get ready as soon as possible."
"Which apron?" asked the little girl, curiously.
"No apron at all," said her aunt; "your hat and coat. We are going a-marketing. How can anybody be a good housekeeper without knowing how to buy a dinner?"
Before they set out they went to the kitchen with a small pad and pencil, and looked into the refrigerator to see what they had already, to know what theywould need to buy. There proved to be several things which would be used for luncheon, and then they asked Bridget what she wanted them to get. She said she was out of flour and granulated sugar, and would want raisins and coffee and tea, beside a vegetable for dinner and some lettuce and meat. They planned the meals together, and decided on having a dessert of apple-tart, made with apples and cream, and these were added to the list Margaret wrote down so nothing would be forgotten; then they set out.
They stopped at the grocery first, and Margaret was told to order a seven-pound bag of sugar. While the clerk was getting it the aunt explained that this was a better way to buy it than to get it loose, as then it would be sent home in a paper bag, which might break and spill it; then, too, the nice cotton bag in which it would come home would be just the thing to strain jelly through. The flour was also ordered in a bag, this time a large one.
"Some things we buy in small quantitiesbecause there is danger of waste in the kitchen if there is an unlimited supply at hand. But flour is needed every day, and never wasted, so we buy a good deal of that at a time. If we had a very large family we would buy a whole barrel at once, and so save a little money; as it is, the big bag does very well for us. Now for coffee; tell the clerk to give you his very best Java and Mocha mixed, in a tin can. We will take it browned, but not ground."
"I thought Bridget always browned the coffee," said Margaret, who remembered the delicious smell which often had filled the house when the coffee came from the oven.
"So she did," her aunt explained, "until we found she would sometimes burn just a few grains each time, which made the whole taste burned. Now we buy it in a can, only a pound or two at a time, and of a man who has just had it browned for him. We keep the tin closely shut always so the odor cannot escape, and grind each morning only as much as we need, and havethis heated very hot just before the water is added, and that gives it the same fresh odor you remember. It is the easiest way to manage, though, of course, freshly roasted coffee is the best of all. But remember always to get a good quality in buying, for poor coffee is not fit to drink. Order the tea, when the clerk is ready, and get that also in a package, because it is cleaner and fresher that way. You can pay anything you like for tea, from thirty cents a pound to about two dollars, but your mother gets a black tea without a bit of green mixed in it for from sixty to eighty cents, and buys it in half-pound packages. What is next on the list?"
"Raisins," said Margaret.
"Well, order those in a paper box, the kind which come already seeded, and when you get them home, take them out of the box and shut them up in a glass jar with a tight top, to keep them fresh. The vegetables come now, but before we buy those you must put down in this little book what we have bought already, with the price ofeach article opposite. I could wait till we got home, but I am afraid you may forget the cost of things, because you are not used to them."
She handed Margaret a cunning little book and a tiny pencil, and showed her how to find the right month and day printed at the top of the page, and to put down under a column headed "Groceries," just what they had bought so far and what each thing cost. After this they crossed the shop to the place where the vegetables and fruit were piled, and looked these over.
The apples were of all kinds, sweet and sour, big and little, red and green. Margaret said she would take the biggest red ones for the apple-tart.
"No, those are not cooking apples, they are meant for the table," her aunt told her. "And do not take the yellow ones, because they are sweet and only good for baking. Take a nice green apple, not too large, because the smaller ones do just as well and cost less. Let us get half a peck of those greenings. We want oranges forbreakfast, too, though Bridget forgot to say so. Can you pick those out, do you think?"
There were a good many boxes of these, some with rough skins, some with smooth, some with little bunches at the end. These last, her aunt explained to the little girl, were seedless and rather too dry for breakfast, though very nice for dinner. "The rough-skinned ones are light, as you will see if you lift one, so they would have little juice. Choose a heavy one of medium size and a rather smooth skin; but do not get those which are a very light yellow, for they may be sour."
The vegetables had to be looked over carefully. Spinach proved withered, so they passed it by; the cauliflower had tiny black spots on it; the green string beans would not snap as they should when they were bent; but they found a large egg plant, with a fresh, smooth skin, which they took. The lettuce was all dark green, with thick strong leaves, and the aunt said it would never do; lettuce must be inheads, like cabbage, and pale green. Instead they chose some chicory with a white centre, which seemed crisp and newly gathered. All these things were written down in Margaret's account-book under "Fruits" and "Vegetables."
A nice dairy was not far from the grocery, and there they ordered a little bottle of cream and put this down in the book before they went on to the meat market. As they entered this shop her aunt said the lesson here was so long it would take years to learn it, and they would only take the a, b, c, of it in one day.
"Buying good meat means learning day after day," she explained. "However, there are some things you can learn this morning, and one is to be sure you buy in a clean place. Look around the floor and see whether the sawdust is fresh; notice the odor of the place and whether it is disagreeable or not; look at the counter, too, and be sure it is white and freshly wiped off; and above all, see whether the meat is kept in the ice-box at the back of the shop,not hung up on nails, or left lying carelessly about. Don't buy any meat which has been hanging or lying around; insist that it comes from the box."
"But I can't think of the kinds of meat there are if I don't see them," Margaret said, anxiously.
"You will learn," the aunt smiled. "I am sure you will never be willing to eat meat which you are not certain is clean. Then look well at what the butcher brings out to show you. Beef ought to be firm, clear red and white, and not streaked with little lines; mutton must not be too fat; veal not too young—you can tell when it is because then it will be very small. Bacon must not be too lean nor too salt, and cut as thin as a wafer. Fish must be fresh, with nice, clear eyes. Chickens too often are buried in a barrel of chopped ice for weeks, and come out blue and clammy; such are not fit to eat. Suppose we buy a pair of roasting chickens this morning, and then you will see how they ought to look."
The butcher brought out a pair which were yellow and dry, showing they had not been covered with ice. The aunt bent down the breastbone to see if they were tender, and showed the little girl that if it had been too stiff to bend she would have known by that that they would not do. She also looked inside to see if there was a good deal of fat, for this, too, was a sign of age. She said they had few pin-feathers, were firm and plump, and the feet were clean, so she was quite sure they would be good, and told the butcher to send them home, and not to forget the giblets.
"Chicken liver gravy!" Margaret exclaimed at this. "I like your lessons, auntie!"
After they reached home and their things were put away the account-book was brought out again, and a lesson given in that. Margaret had to listen carefully, for it seemed rather difficult at first.
"It is best to know always how much you are going to spend on your table every week," her aunt began. "At first youmay spend too much or too little, but by looking over your book you can tell in a moment where the trouble lies, and the next week you can make it right. Some things cost a great deal, such as turkeys, or strawberries too early in the season, or certain fancy groceries, and by seeing just where your money has gone you can remember the next time not to get these. Look at the different columns in your book. One says Groceries, the next, Vegetables; then Fruits; Milk and Cream; Butter and Eggs; Meat; Fish; Wages; Incidentals. You can put down under these exactly what you spend each day, and when the month is over you can put down in another book what each has amounted to. Let me show you:
"Suppose when you add up your columns in your day-book you find at the end of the month you have spent twelve dollars for groceries, fifteen for meat, four for vegetables, three for fruit, and so on. You simply open your second book at the right month and put down what the wholehas been; the next month you do the same thing under the new date, and so on. At the end of the year you do not have to go over all the little sums spent each day, but by looking in the right book under each month you can see exactly what all the meat cost and all the vegetables, and so on. If your October bill for meat was larger than it ought to have been and more than it was in September or November, you can look back and see just why, if you care to. Under Incidentals you put all your car-fares spent in shopping for the house, and such things as dust-cloths, or new kitchen tins. When the last of December comes you can see all you spent during the whole year by adding what each month came to, and know exactly how much it costs you to live, and you can plan to spend more or less next year, as you think best. That is not hard to understand, is it?"
"No," said Margaret, "not to understand, but you see I am afraid I will forget to put things down, and then I will not know after all what I spent."
"But you must put them down at once," her aunt said. "Either taking a pencil with you to market, or writing them down as soon as you come home. You will soon learn, and you will like the plan more and more. It is so nice to know exactly where the money went, day by day."
"Sometimes the grocer has a little book to put things down, too," said the little girl. "If he has a book why do I have to have one?"
"Because he may make a mistake, for one thing," her aunt replied, "and because if you have him put things down and do not do it too, you spend more than you think, and grow extravagant. You can pay each day, if you prefer, or once a week, or once a month; some people like one way, and some another about this, but you should always keep your own accounts, anyway, and know what you have had and how much, and what it cost; and at the end of each month you must copy off the result of adding your columns, and see what the expenses of the month have come to, and soat the end of the year. That's the way a good housekeeper does!"
"Well," said Margaret, "then I will do that way, too, even if it is some trouble."
"That's right," said her aunt. "If you do, I'll give you the loveliest set of account-books and the prettiest silver pencil I can buy when Christmas comes."
"Oh, I truly, truly will!" Margaret exclaimed. "I'll put down every single penny."
It happened that just as Margaret was finishing her Saturday morning lessons Bridget had to go away for a few days, and the last lesson of all, which was given by her mother, was really a sort of review of what she had learned, such as she had in her school lessons.
It was hardly more than six o'clock in the morning when the little girl woke and jumped out of bed. She dressed softly so that she should not wake any one, and took her bed to pieces and set her closet door open, as she had learned in her Bedroom lesson. She threw up the windows and hung up her night-dress, and then left the room, closing the door behind her.
Her mother met her in the hall, and theywent down-stairs together, tying on their clean gingham aprons as they went. The house was all shut up of course, so they opened the front doors, raised the shades in the parlors, and opened the windows a little to change the air. In the kitchen the fire was burning, shut up as they had left it the night before, and they first closed it to shake it down, and then opened the drafts and put on fresh coal, as Margaret had learned when she studied about the range. While the fire was burning up she pinned a little shawl about her head and swept off the front steps and sidewalk, and came in all glowing from the cold air.
By this time the fire was hot and bright, and the cereal was put on to cook in the double boiler, the kettle filled with fresh water and put on to boil for coffee. Her mother said she would stay out in the kitchen and make muffins for breakfast while the other rooms were put in order, so Margaret went into the parlors and sitting-room and straightened the chairs, put away books and papers, and dustinga little here and there, leaving the regular dusting until later in the day. The windows were now shut, and the rooms looked very tidy, so she went to the dining-room to prepare that for breakfast.
She brushed up the crumbs, aired the room, and put it in order. She arranged the doilies on the table, one under each plate, with a round of felt under that, laid the silver, put on her mother's tray with the cups and saucers, set the tumblers and napkins around, and the plates with the finger-bowls and fruit-knives, and the bread and butter plates with the spreaders. She filled the salts freshly, and last of all put on a vase of flowers. Then she took the cereal dishes, platter, and plates out to heat in the oven.
She found her mother was getting ready the eggs and other things for breakfast, and she need not help, so she carried into the dining-room the butter balls and put them around; filled the finger-bowls and tumblers with cold water and the coffee-cups with hot; arranged the fruit on thesideboard, and put cream into the pitcher on the tray as well as in another pitcher for the cereal. By the time breakfast was ready she had on her white apron and had washed her hands, and when the family came down she was ready to show them all what a well-trained waitress she was.
"Do sit down with us," her father begged. "You have done so much already!" But Margaret felt a little proud that she knew her waiting lesson so well, and said she would rather not. She really enjoyed moving very quietly around the table, bringing in and taking out things, passing everything to the left, and laying down plates at the right, and generally remembering just what she had been taught.
After all had finished she ate her own breakfast, and found she had been up so long and worked so much that it tasted twice as good as usual. When she had finished she put on her gingham apron again and cleared the table. She took up the crumbs carefully and used the carpet-sweeperall over the rug. She scraped and piled the dishes in nice, neat piles, and, drawing the hot water, she washed and wiped them all nicely, and put them away. She swept the kitchen, wiped off the tables, shut up the range and washed out the dish-towels exactly as her grandmother had taught in the lesson she gave on the kitchen. Then she went up-stairs.
Her grandmother, mother, and aunts had been afraid she would get too tired with such a long day's work as she had planned to do, and they had made their own beds, but they left Margaret's room for her for fear she would be disappointed. She closed the windows first, and while the room warmed she made the bathroom neat, washed and wiped out the tub and scrubbed off the wash-stand.
Her room was put in beautiful order, to her closet and shoe-bag, and she even stopped to put a clean cover on the bureau and dust nicely, to show she had not forgotten a single thing. The halls and parlors had to be thoroughly dusted now, butas none of them needed sweeping it did not take very long, and there was still time to go to market. She got out her jacket and hat, took her pencil, account-book, and kitchen pad, and went out to see what was in the refrigerator. Here she had to stop, for Bridget had gone away in such a hurry she had quite forgotten to wash this out and arrange it properly, so on went the gingham apron again, and out came all the things from the box. She gave it a good scrubbing with warm water and borax, and put in a fresh dish of charcoal before she put back the ice and dishes of food. Then she got her pad again, and with her mother's help, planned the meals and wrote down what she must buy.
The walk to the grocery and meat market was pleasant, and Margaret quite enjoyed ordering the vegetables, chops, fruit, and fish, which were needed, and watched to see if she was getting fresh things and good measure, and wrote down the prices as though she had been an old housekeeper instead of a new one.
When she got back again she found there was an hour until lunch, and she at once wiped off the shelves in the pantry and put fresh papers on them and arranged the tins in a more orderly way than she found them. By the time she had finished her Pretty Aunt came out to help get luncheon, and together they laid the table and got the meal. She put on her waiting-apron again, when it was ready, but this time she sat down with the family because her mother said she must surely be tired.
Her grandmother insisted on helping with the dishes, and watched with pride when afterwards Margaret poured boiling water down the sink after laying a bit of washing-soda over the drain, and scrubbed off all her tables until they shone, and blacked her range until it was like a mirror. "You surely are going to make a wonderful housekeeper!" she said.
Margaret laughed as she took off her apron. "But I justloveto do things, grandmother," she replied, as she went up-stairs.
Bridget always found that she had an hour or two to rest in the afternoon after her work was done, and so did the little girl, but after she had taken a walk and read in a new book for a time, she suddenly remembered that the silver needed cleaning, and she might surprise the family at dinner with it all polished. She got it out and rubbed it well, delighted to see how quickly it grew bright. As she finished her mother came into the kitchen with her Other Aunt, and said they meant to help get the dinner.
The mother looked around her. "Everything is very nice," she said. "The sink is clean, and so is the pantry, and so are all the dishes. The range is bright; the dish-towels are washed; the dining-room is in order. I noticed as I came through the other rooms that the bedrooms, bathroom, and parlors have all been looked after to-day, too. Margaret, I do believe you are as good a housekeeper as I am already."
"Well," said the little girl, thoughtfully,"I didn't sweep any to-day, nor wash any windows; I didn't shine the faucets in the bathroom, either, because I forgot them till this minute. I didn't have time to oil the floors in the hall this morning— I only brushed it up; and I haven't looked at the cellar or the attic at all."
Her mother laughed. "But nobody does the whole house from top to bottom every single day," she said. "We sweep twice a week, only, and we wash windows when they need washing, not all the time. The attic and cellar are to be kept in order, but not put in order daily, you know. The really good housekeeper does a little putting to rights all the time, and every day she takes a certain part of the house and makes it clean, but she never tries to do more in one day than belongs to that one. To know how to keep a house nice is quite as necessary as to know how to make it so. The most important thing of all is knowing what you have learned to-day—to quietly go through the work, taking one thing after another, each in its turn, and to do allwell, without hurry or worry. To be able to do this is to make housework pleasant."
"Well," said Margaret, earnestly, "I like to keep house. When I am a woman I mean to have the nicest, cleanest house in all the world!"
"Suppose you help me keep this one nice till then!" said her mother.