In the House Economical some laundry work must be done—by all means send out starched things. But Jaeger underclothing, and all flannels, last longer when washed at home. It has been said that servants, nowadays, are like monkey soap—and "will not wash clothes." But insertion of a clause in our hiring lease would show them what is required in this line. To keep woollies soft and unshrunken, they must be soaked in a bath containing two parts cold to one of hot water. In this, a handful of boiled soap jelly is stirred (to a lather) and to it one tablespoonful of ammonia (liquid) added. This volatile spirit loosens all dirt, and our clothing requires no rubbing, only a thorough rinsing. After shaking well, the garments must be hung out in a shady, sunless place to dry, and finished with a warm smoother. No "cast-iron back with a hinge in it" is required for scientific washing, and a few minutes' weekly supervision will enable the mistress of the House Economical to clothe her household in double garments without fear.
In the House Economical we shall rigidly exclude everything fusty and dusty. Therefore carpets will be conspicuous by their absence from the sleeping-rooms, especially those threadbare old lengths and squares usually relegated to our bedrooms. Floors will be disinfected and stained, at the cost of a few pence, by the use of permanganate of potash, and polished with beeswax and turpentine. A cleanly smell, exemption from germs and spores and microbes, and knowledge of the perfectly sanitary condition of our sleeping chambers will result.
"A stitch in time saves nine" is the motto writ large on the lintel of the House Economical. A supply of carpenterial tools, then, will always be at hand to prevent recourse to that most expensive luxury—the British workman. We shall oil locks and link chains, keep our window cords mended and its sash running free. We shall learn how to hammer and plane and file and screw. A bit and brace will be no wonderful instrument to us but a much-used friend. A handy man about the place is a well-known boon. Who can value at her right worth the handy woman?
It is a well-known fact that "many hands make light work," but we must remember that limbs imply mouths, and that mouths must be filled. Hence, in the House Economical, each child will have its own vineyard to keep. Helpful, willing little fingers will be trained to usefulness. Our young folk find as much pleasure in resultful effort as in objectless employment—making beds can be as much "play" as arranging a doll's house—and Tommy can be taught to mend as well as to break.
Perhaps, in the House Economical, we are inclined rather to forget that there is a time to spend as well as a time to keep (Eccles. iii.). The very fact of an economic course in general ought to help us to a liberal one at proper seasons. Cheese-paring and skinning a flint are occupations at all times to be avoided, more especially so when festivals or hospitality call for an open hand. The royal road to prosperity is bordered by scattered wealth and watered with generosity. The wisest of men said so, and I believe him.
What can I say further of the many other avenues leading up to and from the House Economical? Of the soap to be bought by the stone and the soda in sacks? Of the plaice for luncheon instead of halibut? Of rhubarb mixed with cherries, and such like? In treating of such details in the House Economical, we are treading on less flowery meads than when considering its twin sisters—the Palace Beautiful and the House Comfortable. Yet, perhaps, it needs more real wisdom to run a family coach on economically pleasant lines than it does to be either artistic or cosy. "Common tasks require all the force of a trained intellect to bear upon them." So it needs a cultivated brain, sanctified common sense, and skilful hands, to brighten the everyday minutiæ of life in the House essentially Economical.
