If the living room, among its other uses, takes the place of the library, the selection of a suitable library table will be a good test of the homemaker's discrimination. The quality of this table should be at least equal to the best we have to show. Whether it shall be squared, or oblong with oval ends, depends upon tastes; by all means it should be get-at-able. That's what a library table is for. Good designs in "arts and crafts" may be had as low as $16.50 in a small size; 72-inch, about $50. Golden oak costs less, mahogany considerably more.
The davenport in mahogany or oak, in a plain or striped velour tapestry, felt filled, with good springs, built on straight lines with claw feet, broad arms, and heavy back, is a good article and will not leave much change out of a $50 bill. That represents a fair price for a fair quality, and it would be better to do without the davenport than to go in for something too cheap. The sort that have detached cushions in soft leather are very nice and practically dustless. The same is true of easy chairs so provided. A handsome weathered-oak davenport with cushions of this kind will be found marked somewhere about $65, while half that price pays for an easy chair of the same style. The cushions are filled with felt. Springs and fillings in davenports, easy chairs, and couches should be most thoroughly investigated. If there are carvings they must be subjected to the severest tests of appropriateness, and in no event should they be where they will come in frequent contact with other articles or with persons.
Bookcases in weathered oak, with the top sections of the doors in leaded glass, seem worth the prices at $28 for 30-inch, $43.50 for 4-foot, and $47.50 for 5-foot; yet a simple 30-inch golden oak case "made in Grand Rapids," and of which no one need be ashamed, costs but $14. Sectional cases are very convenient, and are now being designed in artistic styles, but are not yet altogether approvable for the parlor or living room. For the library simply, they are to be recommended. Bookcases and other heavy pieces should either set solidly upon the floor or have sufficient open space beneath them to permit cleaning. Unless their contents are (mistakenly) hidden by curtains, the bookcases should not be placed in too strong sunlight, as some bindings fade rapidly. Nor should they be near the heat radiators, or against a wall that may possess moisture. The piano, too, must be protected against too great heat or moisture, and in a stone or brick house should be placed against a partition rather than the outside wall.
Useful, but not life-or-death essentials, are a tabouret at, say, $3.25, a footrest for a little less, and a magazine rack for $5 or $10. The problem of keeping periodicals in easy reach without too much of a "litter'ry" effect has not yet been solved. The open rack is the best compromise between sightliness and utility, because it is more apt to be used than the more ambitious arrangements with doors. In the general treatment of the living room the piano and its case are not to be overlooked, and the presence of a piano also suggests the music cabinet, with its problem similar to that of the magazine rack. As music is not kept so well "stirred up," however, the cabinet with a tight door is "indicated."
Willow furniture is used extensively in some country homes. It is made of the French willow, and is not so cheap but is stronger than rattan. Best rockers in this material sell at about $20. They are hardly to be considered in the permanent furnishings of the home, though there is no denying their cleanliness, coolness, and comfort, especially in summer.
For the dining room the sensible preference seems to be for a round table with straight lines of under construction. The pillar base gives least interference with personal comfort, but even at that seems to be unescapable. What has been said elsewhere about the choice of woods applies here also. The high cost of a large-size mahogany table, however, will probably enable us to see some of the special beauties of golden oak. A six-foot round table in the latter wood is priced at about $20. Medium height chairs, with cane seats, $2.75; leather, $3.25. Sideboards are now usually built in; otherwise the buffet table, free from excessive ornamentation, is given preference.
The dining room.[Illustration: The dining room.]
The dining room.[Illustration: The dining room.]
A great deal of the factory-made furniture of the day is the veriest trash. The best feature of it is that it cannot last long and will not survive to disgrace us in the eyes of a later and perhaps more discriminating generation. For those who reside in flats, and are deprived of the inducement to plan for permanence, small blame can attach for hesitancy in making investments in the better sort of furniture that their tastes would lead them to choose. This is the penalty they pay for evading the responsibilities of genuine home life in a house.
But good furniture is being built in these days. It is not confined to hand work, or to the products of long-haired folk who set up a religion of cabinet-making. In every city there are several grades of furniture dealers. At the one extreme there is the house that handles nothing but trash; at the other the house that handles no trash at all. The latter is the obvious choice; and if we pay a bit more for safety—well, do we not pay for our insurance against fire, and burglars, and other things?
If our house has been planned on a scale commensurate with our means, we shall find it no extravagance to complete the larger work of outfitting with articles that will bring pleasure and not vexation, that will need no apologies. Surely no employment could be more interesting than the choice of these belongings which shall in many ways influence ourselves and those about us.
There is such a range of styles and costs that if we approach the problem intelligently we may "express ourselves" quite as accurately as though we were amateur craftsmen. Indeed, we must express ourselves, whether we determine to do so or not; for if we simply follow our cruder instincts, as the child selects its toys, do we not reveal the absence of any real artistic self whatever?
Most of us "women folk" have some one dear pet hobby which we love to humor and to cater to, and which variously expresses itself in china, bric-a-brac, books, collections of spoons or forks, and other things of beauty and joys forever. But whatever our individual indulgences may be, one taste we share in common—the love of neat napery. Her heartstrings must indeed be toughly seasoned who feels no thrill of pride as she looks upon her piles of shining, satiny table linen, and takes account of her sheet, pillowcase and towel treasure. They are her stocks and bonds, giving forth daily their bounteous, beauteous yield of daintiness and comfort, and paying for themselves many times over by the atmosphere of nicety and refinement which they create. For it is these touches, unobtrusive by their very delicacy, which introduce that intangible but very essential quality known astoneinto the home harmony.
Though this is true of all household linen, it is, especially so of table linen, which seems to weave into its delicate patterns and traceries all the light and sunshine of the room, and to give them back to us in the warming, quickening good cheer which radiates from a table daintily dressed. Its influence refines, as all that is chaste and pure must refine, and helps to make of mealtime something more than merely mastication. Human nature's daily food seems to lose something of its grossness in its snowy setting, and to gain a spiritual savor which finds an outlet in "feasts of reason and flows of soul." When we have immaculate table linen we dine; otherwise we simply eat, and there are whole decades of civilization between the two.
Linen is a fabric with a past: it clothed the high priests of Israel for their sacred offices, and comes as a voice from the tombs of Egypt, where it enwraps the mummies of the Pharaohs, telling of a skill in weaving so marvelous that even our improved machinery of to-day can produce nothing to approach it. And then it comes on down through the centuries to those nearer and dearer days of our grandmothers, when it was spun and woven by gentle fingers; while the halo of romance hovers over it even now as the German Hausfrau fills the dowry chest of her daughter in anticipation of the time when she, in turn, shall become a housewife. Small wonder that we love it, and guard jealously against a stain on its unblemished escutcheon.
Belfast, Ireland, is the home of linen and damask. There are manufactories in both Scotland and France, but it is in Belfast that the fabric attains to the highest perfection, and "Irish linen" has come to be synonymous with excellence of design and weaving and luster—a most desirable trilogy. The prospective purchaser of table linen should go to her task fortified with some information on the subject, that she may not find herself totally at the mercy of the salesman, who often knows little about his line of goods beyond their prices. First of all she will probably he asked whether she prefers bleached or unbleached damask. The latter—called "half-bleach" in trade vernacular—is made in Scotland and comes in cheap and medium grades alone. Though it lacks the choiceness of design and the beauty and fineness of the Belfast bleached linens, it is good for everyday wear and quickly whitens when laid in the sun on grass or snow; while the fact that its cost is somewhat less than that of the corresponding quality in the bleached damask, and that it wears better, recommends it to many. Occasionally the chemicals used in the bleaching process are made overstrong to hasten whitening, with the result that the fibers rot after a while and little cut-like cracks appear in the fabric. This is not usual, but of course the unbleached damask precludes all possibility of such an occurrence. One firm in Belfast still conscientiously employs the old grass-and-sun system of bleaching, and their damask is plainly marked "Old Bleach." The half-bleach is sold both by the yard and in patterns.
Damask, by the way, takes its name from the city of Damascus where the fabric was first made, and is simply "linen so woven that a pattern is produced by the different directions of the thread," plain damask being the same fabric, but unfigured. The expression "double damask" need occasion no alarm; it does not imply double cost, a double cloth, or double anything except a double, or duplicate, design, produced by the introduction of an extra thread so woven in that the figure appears exactly the same on both sides of the cloth, making it reversible.
The next thing will be to decide between buying by the yard and buying a pattern cloth in which the border continues without a break all the way around, adding about ten per cent to the price. The designs in both cloths are the same in corresponding qualities. We are knights and ladies of the round table these days, and cloths woven specially for use thereon, with an all-round center design, come only in patterns. Cloths of this description are used also on square tables, as the wreath effect is very decorative. As to the quality of damask, it depends not so much upon weight—for the finest cloths are by no means the heaviest—as upon the size of the threads and the closeness and firmness with which they are woven. Avoid the loosely woven fabric; it will neither wear nor look so well as the one in which the threads are more compact. In the better damasks the threads are smoother and finer in finish.
Styles in table linens change from time to time and render it difficult to say what may or may not be used with propriety, except that the general principle of coarse, heavy-looking designs being in poor taste always holds good. One pattern alone has proven itself, and stood the test of time so satisfactorily that it is as high as ever in the good housekeeper's favor, with no prospect of falling from grace—our old friend the dainty, modest snowdrop, a quiet, unobtrusive little figure in a garden array of roses, English violets, lilacs, tulips, irises, and poppies—for these are flowery times in linens. Occasionally we meet with a scroll or fern design, though the latter is gradually falling into disuse as being too stiff to twine and weave into graceful lines. So true to nature and so exquisitely woven are these posy patterns that they form in themselves a most charming table decoration. In order to secure perfect reproduction a manufacturer in Belfast has established and maintains a greenhouse where his designers draw direct from the natural flower. This care is but the outgrowth of the more refined living which demands that beauty shall walk hand-in-hand with utility.
Before our housekeeper starts a-shopping she must lock up her zeal for economy lest it lead her away from the straight and narrow way of good taste into that broader path which leads to the bargain counter. She may as well make up her mind at once that desirable table linen is not cheap, the sorts offered at a very low price being neither economical nor desirable, and that a cheap cloth which cheapens all of its surroundings is dearly bought at any price. Occasionally the experienced shopper can pick up at a sale of odd-length or soiled damasks something which is really a good offering, particularly during the annual linen sale which falls in January. But as a rule beware of bargains! The fabric is liable to be a "second" with some imperfection, or to contain a thread of cotton which gives it a rough look when laundered, and there is generally a shortage in width—which suggests the advisability of measuring the table top before buying, for cloths come in different widths, and one which is too narrow looks out-grown and awkward and—stingy! The average table is about 4 feet across, and requires a cloth 2 yards square, though in buying by the yard it is safe to allow an extra quarter for straightening the edges and hemming. The cloth should hang at least a foot below the edge of the table, with an increase of half a yard in length for each additional table leaf. A cloth 2 yards square will seat four people; 2 by 2 1/2, six; 2 by 3, eight; 2 by 3 1/2, ten; and 2 by 4, twelve. A wider table calls for a half or a quarter of a yard more in the width of the cloth, at some little additional cost, as fewer cloths in extra widths are made or called for. Usually a good pattern runs through three qualities of table linen, with napkins in two sizes to match—22-inch for breakfast and luncheon use, and 24-inch for dinner. These are the standard sizes most generally used, though napkins are to be had both larger and smaller. A napkin should be soft and pliable, and large enough to cover the knees well. Prices on all-linen bleached satin damask pattern cloths, with accompanying napkins, are about as appear in the list on the opposite page:
The 3x3 yards cloth is called a banquet cloth, and is one for which the average housekeeper would have little use.
The amount of table linen to be bought for the first "fitting out" depends upon the fatness of the pocketbook and the room available for stowing it away. Since there are so many other expenses at this time the best way will probably be to buy all that will be needed for a year, and then add to it one or two cloths with their napkins each succeeding year. Three cloths of the right length for everyday use, and one long "family-gathering" cloth, with a dozen napkins to match each, will be a good start. If the special-occasion cloth seems to be too costly, two short cloths of duplicate pattern can be substituted for it, the centerpiece and a clever arrangement of decorations hiding the joining. If table linen is to be stored away and not used for some time after its purchase, the dressing which it contains must be thoroughly washed out, else the chemicals are liable to rot the fabric. It is advisable, too, to put not-to-be-used damask away rough-dry, otherwise it may crack, in the folds. The use of colored table linens is in the worst possible taste, except on the servants' table. Those flaming ferocities known as "turkey-red" cloths, which seem to fairly fly at one, are not only inartistic but altogether too suggestive of economy in laundering to be appetizing table companions.
Cloths bought by the yard must be evened at the ends by drawing a thread, and hemmed by hand, never stitched on the machine. The inch hem of a few years ago has been superseded by the very narrow one which is always in good taste, regardless of style. Napkins come by the piece and must be divided and hemmed on two sides, rubbing well between the hands first to remove the stiffness.
There is nothing handsomer or more elegant than the fine, hemmed table linen, but if a hemstitched cloth is desired, or one containing some drawn-work design, it is better to buy the material and do the work oneself; otherwise; the expense goes into the work, not the linen, and the cost is usually about double that of the same cloth plainly finished. Hemstitching and fancy work are appropriate only on cloths for the luncheon table, which may be of either plain or figured damask, or of heavy linen, which is often effectively combined with Battenberg and linen laces. Neither drawn work nor hemstitching wears well, drawing the threads seeming to weaken the fabric. Very pretty luncheon cloths can be purchased in different sizes for $1.50, $1.75, $2.00, $2.75, etc., according to size, material, and elaboration, with accompanying napkins, 18 by 18 inches, for $2.50 or more a dozen. A cloth just the size of the table top is a convenient luncheon size. These cloths save much wear on the large cloths, and laundry work as well.
The pretty present-day fashion of using individual plate doilies on a polished table at breakfast and luncheon is also labor-saving. The plate doilies, either square, oval, or round, and of plain damask or smooth, closely woven, rather heavy linen, are hemstitched or finished with a padded scallop worked with white cotton. The round doily is most used, and offers a delightful field to the worker in over-and-over embroidery for the display of her skill. Linen lace combinations are also used, but they are rather for dress-up than for daily use. The plate doilies should be at least 9 inches wide, with smaller corresponding ones on which to set the glass of water or the hot cup, and an extra one or two for small dishes for relishes and the like that may be kept on the table, etc. They can he bought for 25 cents a piece and upward, but the average housekeeper enjoys making her own, taking them for "pick-up" work. Small fringed napkins are also used in the same way, and for tray covers, but fringe soon grows to look "dog-eared," and mats in the laundering. Still another dressing for the bare table is the long hemstitched linen strip, 12 inches wide, which runs the length of the table, hanging over the end, and is crossed at the middle by a second strip extending over the sides, two strips thus seating four people. When six are to be seated the cross-piece is moved to one side and a third corresponding strip placed about 18 inches from it.
The list of table linen is incomplete without a damask carving cloth to match each tablecloth, which it protects from spatterings from the platter. This also may be fashioned of plain linen, should be about three-quarters of a yard wide and a yard long, and either hemstitched or scalloped—embroidered, too, if one cares to put that much energy into work which will show so little. And then there must be some doilies to overlay the Canton-flannel-covered asbestos mats for use under hot dishes.
Styles in centerpieces are fleeting; just now all-white holds sway, and of a surety there is nothing daintier. Although pretty centers can be purchased all the way up from $1, here again the mistress's industrious fingers come into play, for there is a certain unbuyable satisfaction in working a little of one's very self into the table adornment, and really handsome centerpieces are quite expensive. They run in sizes from 12 to 45 inches. The center with doilies to match is pretty and desirable. It is quite as easy to arrange them in this way as to gather in an ill-assorted, mismated collection. Those for daily use should be rather simple and of a quality which will not suffer from frequent intercourse with the washtub.
The fashion of embroidering monograms on table linen must be handled with care; the working over-and-over of the padded letters with fine cotton thread is a nice task which requires experience and skill. The cloth monograms are from 2 to 3 inches high and are placed at one side of the center, toward the corner. Either the full monogram or an initial is appropriate in the corner of the napkin, and to be in the best taste should never be more than an inch high. These letters are either plain, in circlets, or surrounded with running vines, and add that distinction to the napery which handwork always imparts.
Table linen, like friendship, must be kept constantly in repair. Look out for the thin places and darn before they have a chance to wear through. Ravelings from the cloth should be kept for this purpose. A carefully applied patch or darn is scarcely noticeable after laundering. The hardest wear comes where the cloth hangs over the edge of the table, at head and foot. When it begins to be thin at these places cut off one end at the worn point, if the cloth is sufficiently long to warrant it, and hem the raw edge. This draws the other worn place well up on the table where the friction is much less, considerably lengthening the life of the cloth. The cut-off end may be converted into fringed napkins, on which to lay croquettes, fried potatoes, etc., doilies for bread and cake plates, children's napkins, or tray covers. Old table linen passes through several stages of decline before it becomes absolutely useless; when too much worn for table purposes it enwraps our bread and cake and strains our jellies, and when at last it has won the well-earned rest of age, it still waits in neat rolls to bandage our cuts and bruises.
There is a saying that "Old linen whitens best," to which we might also add that it looks best, gaining additional smoothness and gloss with each laundering. Table linen should never dry on the line, but be brought in while still damp, very carefully folded, and ironed bone-dry, with abundant "elbowgrease." This is the only way to give it a "satin gloss."Neveruse starch. The pieces should be folded evenly and carefully, with but one crease—down the middle—and not checker-boarded with dozens of lines. Centers and large doilies are best disposed of by rolling over a round stick well padded.
Much wear and tear on both table and cloth is prevented by the use of a double-faced Canton-flannel pad, which prevents the cloth from cutting through on the edges, gives it body, softens the clatter of the dishes, and absorbs liquids. It comes in 1 1/2- and 1 3/4-yard widths and sells for 65 to 85 cents a yard. Pads of asbestos are also used, but are far more expensive. It is a good plan to have two if possible—one for use on the everyday table, and a longer one to cover the family-gathering table. Covers for the sideboard and any small table used in the dining room are of hemstitched or scalloped linen, either plain or embroidered—never ruffled or fluffy.
Buying bed linen is not so very serious a matter. Drygoods stores offer sheets and pillowcases ready made to fit any sized bed or pillow at prices little, if any, greater than the cost of those made at home. Merchants say that they sell one hundred sheets ready made to one by the yard, which speaks well, not for their goods alone, but for the spirit of housewifely economy which maintains that labor saved is time and strength earned. Moreover, the deluded seeker after bed beauty who wastes her precious hours in hemstitching sheets and pillowcases—cotton ones at that—is a reckless spendthrift, and needs a course in the economics of common sense. Nothing is more desirable than the simple elegance of the plain, broad hem, nor more disheartening than hemstitching which has broken from its moorings while the rest of the sheet is still perfectly good—a way it has. Hem-stitching may answer on linen sheets which are not in constant use, but ordinarily let us have the more profitable plainness. Good sheets are always torn—not cut—and finished with a 2 1/2- or 3-inch hem at the top and an inch hem at the bottom, the finished sheet measuring not less than 2 3/4 yards. There must be ample length to turn back well over the blankets and to tuck in at the foot, for it is a most irritating sensation to waken in the night with the wool tickling one's toes and scratching one's chin. Sheets are to be had in varying widths to suit different sized beds.
The 2 3/4-yard length in an average sheet of good quality costs 90 cents for a double bed, 75 cents for a three-quarter bed, and 45 cents for a single bed, with hemstitched sheets of corresponding quality at the same price. It is hardly worth while to pay more than this, while very good sheets are to be had for 75 cents, with a decrease in price as the width decreases. Half-bleach double-bed sheets of good quality cost 85 and 70 cents, and so on, and are more especially for servants' beds. They are popularly supposed to outwear the bleached, but are somewhat trying bedfellows until whitened.
Plain or hemstitched pillowcases cost from 25 to 75 cents a pair, each additional width raising the price 5 cents. The average or sleeping-size pillow is 22 1/2 by 36 1/2 inches, and calls for a case enough larger to slip on easily, but not loose nor long enough to hang over the sides of the bed. If pillows of different sizes are in use their cases should be numbered.
Bed linen should be firmly woven, with a thread rather coarse than fine. The amount purchased must be regulated by the number of beds to be furnished, allowing three sheets and three pairs of cases to each. The supply can always be easily added to, but if expedient for any reason to buy in large quantities, set apart enough to supply all the beds and keep the rest in reserve, otherwise it will all give out at once. If the housewife is so unfortunately situated that she is forced to make her own bed linen, she will do well to buy her material by the piece—40 to 50 yards. All hems can be run on the machine.
Though not everyone likes the "feel" of linen, most housekeepers are ambitious to include a certain amount with their other bed linens, for use in the summer or during illness, because of its non-absorbent qualities. Sheets cost $3, $3.50, $4, $5, $6, and on up to $17, the more expensive ones being embellished with hemstitching, scallops, or lace. Pillowcases to correspond sell at from $1.25 up. Linen for this purpose is always bleached, the 90-inch sheeting being $1 to $3 a yard, the 45-inch pillowcasing 50 cents to $1.50 a yard, and 50-inch casing 75 cents to $2 a yard. Inch-high monograms or letters may be embroidered in white at the middle of sheets and pillowcases, just above the hem. When sheets wear thin down the center, tear and "turn," whipping the selvages together and hemming the torn edges, which become the new edges of the sheet. Old bed linen makes the finest kind of cleaning cloths, and should be folded neatly away for that purpose, sheets being reserved for the ironing board.
Towels are best purchased by the dozen, huck of Irish bleached linen being best for all-around use. These have good absorbent qualities, plain or hemstitched hems, measure from 18 by 36 inches to 24 by 42 inches, and cost from $2.50 to $6 a dozen. Some of these are "Old Bleach" linen, and therefore both desirable and durable. Pass by towels with colored borders; the colored part is always cotton, and is in poor taste anyway. Some huck towels have damask borders; other towels are of all-damask, costing from $6 to $12 a dozen, but huck is the stand-by. Fringed towels, of course, are not to be considered for a moment. Each member of the family should have his own individual towel, or set of towels, distinguished by some mark, particularly children, who find it hard to learn that towels are for drying, not cleansing, purposes. Those for their use may be smaller and cheaper. Turkish or bath towels are of either cotton or linen, the latter being more for friction purposes and costing $6 to $12 a dozen. The cotton absorbs better and is most generally used for the bath. Good values in towels of this kind are to be had for $2.50, $2.85, $3, and $4.50 a dozen. Good crash face cloths cost 5 cents and even less.
Household linens must include, too, the 6 barred-linen kitchen towels at 10, 12, or 15 cents a yard, for drying silver and glass; and 6 heavier towels, either barred or crash, for china and other ware, at the same price, with 3 roller towels at 10 cents per yard; while last, but by no means least, come the dozen neatly hemmed cheesecloth dusters at 5 cents a yard, for men must work and women must sweep—and dust!
The old condition of "Queen-Anne-in-the-front-and-Mary-Ann-in-the-back" in the home furnishing, when the largest outlay of money and taste was put into the "front room" and the kitchen took the hindermost, has gradually given way before the fact that a woman is known, not by the drawing-room, but by the kitchen, she keeps. Given the requisite qualifications for the proper furnishing, care, and ordering of her kitchen, and it can usually be said of her with truth that she is mistress of the entire home-making and home-keeping situation. If any one room in the home was conceived solely for the relief of man's estate, that room is the kitchen, and it has supplied the energy which has sent forth many a one to fight a winning battle with the world, the flesh, and the devil; and while it is, alas, too true that it is the rock upon which many a domestic ship has gone to pieces, it is the true foundation of the home and, therefore, of the nation. Wherefore let us first look well to our kitchens and then live up to them.