There is a big, red barn on a fine old farm, that is easily reached by city friends, and there, every year, is given an autumn revel in the shape of a genuine “barn dance.” The mow is filled with sweet smelling hay and the cattle, stalled, are below. The big center floor is cleared and swept and reswept and chalked to make it fit for dancing feet. The decorations for the dance consume much time, and into them the hostess throws many a loving thought. Pumpkins form the chief theme. In flower-like or hideous forms as jack-o’-lanterns they hold posts of honor on rafter and beam.
The lanterns used are the regular farm lanterns, though the walk through the old-fashioned garden to the barn is outlined by the fancy Japanese lanterns. Ears of corn tied by fluttering ribbons, the husks turned back to show the golden ears, cornstalks, golden-rod, milkweed, woodbine and clusters of purple grapes are all worked into the decorations.
The young folks learn by previous experiences not to wear perishable finery at the barn dance, and the girls all come in pretty wash-dresses that will stand a good romp. Music is furnished by an old darkey fiddler, not violinist, who plays “Money Musk,” “Fisher’s Hornpipe,” “Ole Dan Tucker” and any number of plantation melodies.
The supper, of course, is the best part of the dance to hungry city-bred people. Hot coffee is served in bright new tin-cups, for these young people mimic harvesters; there is fried chicken, cold ham, potato salad, rolls with golden country butter that melts in one’s mouth, plenty of fresh milk, pumpkin and apple pie, with cottage cheese, ginger cakes and doughnuts, and even cider for those who wish.
The dance is always given during the full harvest moon and the stone wall which bounds the orchard, the old farm wagons, the grain bins and even the low apple trees furnish flirtation nooks for lovers. One year the barn dance was also a potato roast. Huge fires were built on the lawn, and during the intermission the crowd gathered around the fires and roasted potatoes. This time, too, the dance was made a house party, and the girls were stowed away in the farmhouse while the boys enjoyed tents and the big haymow. Is it any wonder that the pretty hostess’ friends call her barn dance the big event of the year?
Bachelor Women and their Entertainments.
The bachelor women in their cosy little city apartments, or even their one apartment, refuse to be debarred from the pleasure and privilege of giving the little entertainments so dear to the heart feminine. They not only give the most charming little “teas” and “coffees,” but they are past masters in the use of the chafing dish and those who have feasted with them will no longer deem that liveried service and stately rooms are necessary to the proper receiving of one’s friends.
After all, “the highest hospitality is in giving what one has.” Hawthorne and his wife never forgot the little American studying art in Rome, who, in her tower room, reached by many flights of stairs, made tea before their eyes, and took from a cupboard the cake and crackers that made her feast. Neither will the world forget her, since she it was, who, in the “Marble Faun,” is the Hilda who fed the doves from the tower.
A Sandwich Spread.
A sandwich spread is another entertainment easily given by a “bachelor maid.” This is a meal at which everything, barring the tea and coffee, is served in the form of a sandwich. Not until one has tried does one realize to what excellence and variety this form of viand lends itself. Deviled ham sandwiches, egg sandwiches, cheese sandwiches, lettuce sandwiches, potted ham, potted fish, potted cheese sandwiches, pineapple sandwiches, peanut sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches, tomato sandwiches, walnut sandwiches, oyster sandwiches and so on indefinitely. Any modern cookbook will furnish the formulas for all these and more.