Word
of grace to women; word that makes her the earthly providence of
her family, that wins gratitude and attachment from those at home,
and a good report of those that are without. Success in
housekeeping adds credit to the woman of intellect, and lustre to a
woman’s accomplishments. It is a knowledge which it is as
discreditable for any woman to be without as for a man not to know
how to make a living, or how to defend himself when attacked. He
may be ever so good an artist, ever so polished a gentleman; if
deficient in these points of self-preservation you set him down for
a weakling, and his real weight in society goes for very little.
So, no matter how talented a woman may be, or how useful in the
church or society, if she is an indifferent housekeeper it is fatal
to her influence, a foil to her brilliancy and a blemish in her
garments.
Housekeeping ought not to be
taught in classes and by professors; though when early training is
lacking they may be of use. It is one of those things to be imbibed
without effort in girlhood, instead of being taken up at marriage
and experimented on with varying certainty for the rest of one’s
natural life. There is no earthly reason why girls, from eight to
eighteen, should not learn and practice the whole round of
housekeeping, from the first beating of eggs to laying carpets and
presiding at a dinner party, at the same time that they go on with
music, languages, and philosophy. The lessons would be all the
better learned if, instead of sitting down at once out of school
hours, the girl was taught to take pride in keeping her room nice,
or in helping about such work as canning fruit for the season,
hanging clean curtains, or dusting every day. The wealthiest women
of the oldest families in society are not above seeing to these
things themselves, and they know how it should be done. They were
bred to it as part of a lady’s duty. But if a woman finds herself
ignorant or half taught how to keep house, there is nothing so
difficult to learn that she may not be proficient in a year or two
at most. An intelligent woman will succeed in most duties at first
trying. Housekeeping is an exact science, and works like the
multiplication table if one only has learned it. But if one is
shaky in figures how is he ever to keep accounts? There is no
chance about housekeeping. If Mrs. Smith’s sitting room is always
neat and fresh, it is because she sweeps it with tea leaves, and
sponges the carpet with ox gall, and dusts it with a damp cloth,
and keeps a door mat on the porch, and sends the boys back every
time to use till they get the habit of keeping clean. While you
hang a newspaper before the what-not and throw one over the work
table, sweep with a soft broom, butting the broad side of it at
every stroke against the moulding; instead of carrying all the dust
clean from the crevice next the wall by one lengthwise sweep with
the corner of the broom, you blow the dust off some places and give
a hasty rub at others; pass the stove with a touch from the hearth
brush instead of blacking it, and let the boys track in mud and
dust enough to deface a new carpet its first season, while you take
it out in scolding—which was never known to brighten rooms yet. So,
when your feather cake fails, though you made it precisely by the
rule which the other day came out like bleached sponge, there is a
very good reason for it, you did not stir it as much as the first
time, or you beat it a little too long and lost the best
effervescence of your soda, or your baking powder had been left
open a few minutes at a time on baking days and lost strength. By
practicing the same recipe carefully all these and other points fix
themselves in your mind, so that success is certain. Those clever
cooks, whose success is so much a matter of instinct, observe all
these points unconsciously each time, and lay it to luck! There’s
no such word in housekeeping.
This labour does not only mean
keeping things clean, and having plenty to eat. It goes from the
outside of the house to the inside of the travelling-bags of those
who leave it. The mistress must observe the outside of her house
regularly; on Saturday is the most convenient time to see if
window-blinds need washing, if the catches are in repair, if the
shades inside hang straight, and the curtains drape well, if the
walks, steps, and piazzas are neat, and the door knobs and paint in
order, making a note of every want, and having it attended to at
once. Dexterity with tools is very convenient to any one, and I
have known accomplished women who would set a pane of glass, put on
a door knob, and hang a gate in the best style. One of the valued
contributors to the New York press is a woman who reads Horace in
Latin, and Bastiat’s political economy, makes point-lace and
embroiders beautifully, who at the gold mines with her husband
built the chimney to her house, and finished most of the interior
with her own hands. A little care, weekly, keeps a place in that
bright order that so attracts and welcomes one at sight. It looks
as if whole people lived in it, with live sensibilities and
intelligence. Indoors the same spirit is reflected. The bell-pull
never is left for weeks after it gets loose, the gas burners are
never suffered to leak, or grow dim; the kerosene lamps are large
enough to give good light, and of the best pattern for safety, and
for the eye. The stoves are the open “Fireside” kind, the modern
version of the old Franklin stoves—giving the ventilation and
delight of an open fire, burning either coal or wood, with bars and
fender like a grate; yet, capable of being shut up as tightly as
any base-burning heater by two tight fitting covers that may be
removed and put away at pleasure. The health, the comfort, the
luxury of such an addition makes up for many a deficiency beside.
The carpet was well-chosen at first in small figure and warm
colours of good quality, whether Brussels or three-ply, and it
looks well as long as it lasts, and kept clean by shaking twice a
year, laid straight and stretched smooth over a soft lining, which
saves the carpet and saves noise; darned at the first break with
wool, matching the pattern, it will not be shabby in ten years. It
is pleasant to have things last with the family, and grow to seem a
part of it. The true sentiment of the sharp, genteel woman, was
expressed by the housekeeper who “liked to have her carpets wear
out so she could have new ones.” She let lodgings to have company,
and money to dress by, against her husband’s wish, and her only
dread was that of “settling down and having a lot of children with
no theatres, no opera, nobody to see.” The home feeling, the
attachment that grows for the pleasant enduring objects of daily
use is one of the rare plants of sentiment that the housekeeper
does well to cherish. There should be care at first to have things
agreeable and handsome as possible, that they need not be a daily
eyesore, and there need be no reason for wishing them to wear out.
Manufactures constantly add service to trade by placing better
patterns in reach of moderate purses. Thus, the mottled carpets in
oak and brown, ash and crimson, maroon and elm-leaf yellow, with
borders to match, so admired in velvet and Brussels, are found in
fine three-plys and ingrain, and in the newer Venetians of hemp and
wool, like the old-fashioned stair carpet that lasts so long. A
word for these new Venetians, which is on account of their artistic
quality, likely to be overlooked, because they are so cheap. All
the best colours and patterns of Brussels, in two shades, in
mottled, moss or leaf designs, are afforded in this carpet, which
is durable as the conscience of a housekeeper could exact. Two
rules are enough for the looks of a carpet; choose small figures
and avoid contrasts of colour. Small figures, however, have
different meanings to different people. As a rule, a small figure
is not more than three inches at most, any way across. Very, very
few rooms there are, but look better with carpets of small design.
Then the oil-cloth under the stove must match, if possible, and be
bound with leather strips to keep the edge from getting unsightly.
The woodbox or basket is covered with wool work on canvas, or
applique of bright cloth on Turkish toweling, making a handsome bit
of furniture. A scrap basket, with applique border, and a bright
lining, goes far toward keeping a room tidy. The mistress will try
to have her rooms in keeping with the style by a few pieces of
furniture in the fashion of the day, a Turkish chair embroidered in
wools, a straight-backed one in unbleached toweling and applique of
crimson, blue, black and gold, a stand covered with velvet, or a
home-made easel with the single good picture the house affords on
it, a jardiniere of titles or wickerwork in the window, or a bamboo
lounge, things not expensive in themselves, yet lending a graceful
air to quiet surroundings. As for chairs, sofas and lambrequins,
artists have been insisting on chintz for the last ten years, and
women have as steadily bought woollen reps, which the doctors tell
us harbours dust, absorbs vitiated matter from the air, and is
absolutely dangerous in disease from the contagion it holds. But
women of the best taste, who like to have their rooms pretty, will
choose chintz, when they cannot afford silk and satin, and often
when they can, for its intrinsic beauty.
It is of more account to have
broad seats and deep cushions to chairs and sofas, than to have
them covered with rich material. See that there are plenty of low
seats in your sitting-room, for much of the furniture seen is of
very little use for rest and ease, points essential to the health
and comfort of women and children. If a woman will only start with
the intention of making her house comfortable, she will gain all
the admiration she wants. There are many elegant rooms in private
houses, where there are only one or two that come up to the idea of
comfort. Now that is a very important word one that cannot be
infringed on without losing health. The mistress of a house must
see that it is ventilated from top to bottom, by having every
window and the skylight, if there is one, open at least once a
day—if possible when the sun is shining. She is responsible for the
health of the household, and must allow no scent of decay, whether
from vegetables or meat, barrels or refuse in the cellar, no slops
anywhere about the premises, no mouldering food in closets, no
confined bedrooms or closets with old clothes or soiled linen to
taint the air, no dead, musty smell in any room, however seldom
used, no sickly smell escaping from rooms where there is illness.
She must see that fires are started as early in the fall and kept
as late in the spring as the weakest, chilliest of her family
desires, for these slow chilly days take more life, and play more
mischief with nerves and blood than she could bear to think of,
could she see their effects. She must look after the clothing from
a hygienic view, to see that her children and family are warm
enough and cool enough, so warding off many an attack of cramps,
coughs and neuralgia. The food must be of the best quality, and she
must know that it is. It pays to give an extra shilling on the half
barrel for selected potatoes and apples, as they go farther and
make more muscle than poor ones, and don’t poison anybody. Sharp
scrutiny of eggs, meat, butter, and milk, is a benefit to others as
well as her own family, by raising the standard of provisions,
besides more direct gain. More disease comes into the world in the
shape of tainted butter and milk, than any one dreams of but the
doctors. If she gets the hygienic craze about food, don’t let her
carry it to the verge of confounding things “healthful” with things
uneatable, for badly cooked oatmeal and graham “gems” are as
distressing to delicate organisms as the richest mince pie and old
cheese together. That slight sour tinge, which nobody noticed, in
the home-made bread, that solid pudding, which yet was not quite
rejected at dessert, are responsible for the bad breath of the
children and the beginning of a sick headache in their elders.
Never be satisfied with any but the nicest cooking, with variety
enough to make your table a delight as well as a necessity. And
don’t let anybody lay it to you that you are pampering your family,
and devoting yourself to a low sphere of action. You are doing no
such thing, but are giving them strong, active bodies, steady
nerves and tempers, and clear brains to meet their work with. By
just so much as you neglect your part of the work, they will fail
in theirs. You are the engineer to feed the fires, and keep the
wheels oiled, and the whole family system depends on you. Don’t
dare to call such work low.
There is a great work to be done
in American kitchens. You may and ought to delegate as much to
hired helpers as you can, but you must see that all is done as it
should be. And one receipt for training service is given, that is
the whole secret in a nut-shell. If child or servant leaves
anything undone, or ill-done, don’t scold, but insist on having it
done immediately as it ought to be. Put the badly ironed shirts in
the basket to be done over, have the house-girl who left the china
badly washed, take it out of the closet and do it right, time after
time, and let her get tired of doing her work over before you get
tired of telling her. It is no harder to do work nicely than to
half do it, indeed the careless way is the hardest. Finally, let
your housekeeping be as liberal as you can. Whether well-to-do, or
in narrow circumstances, you will hold that waste is a sin, against
yourself and the world. By keeping strict account of every cent
received and paid out, you can gauge your means, laying by what is
proper, but within that limit be good to yourself and yours. Make
the most of your money. It was no less a divine than the orthodox
Doctor John Hall, who said that, of the two faults, he had far
rather see people extravagant than penurious. Stint nowhere in
cleanliness, light, and warmth, and let what you have be the best
and prettiest for the cost. By these things men live, in body at
least, and the soul is very dependent on its surroundings, or at
any rate greatly assisted by favourable ones. It is an every-day
wonder to see how little rich people get for their money; the
common-place houses, with so little that is light or striking or
original in them, the dull service, the narrow round of enjoyments.
In some sense housekeeping is making the most of life, bringing
taste and variety into it, compassing difficult ends with
invention. Those who disdain it lower themselves. Never think that
anything is too good for you or yours that you can obtain.
Everywhere there are people living in small common ways, because
they are absolutely afraid of the expense or the notice which a
pleasanter life would bring. Half the niceties of life involve only
care to secure them, without a dollar of expense. Good manners cost
nothing, good taste is saving, and good housekeeping actually makes
money. Though this book is an aid to the ambitious housekeeper in
one direction only, that is on the way to all the rest. People grow
refined first in their eating. How is it that the most brilliant
and cleverest nation in the world has also the best cooking? Put
these things together, and do your best according to their
result.