Rice flour, or potatoes combined with flour, help to take up moisture, and keep bread from drying. Rye flour makes a dark-colored bread, but is sweet and palatable, retaining moisture longer than wheat. Indian meal, mixed with rye, and a spoonful or two of molasses added with the yeast, makes the New England brown bread; but to have that in perfection it should be baked in a brick oven, and remain all night; then, warm and fresh for breakfast, it is unrivalled.
Graham bread is made from unbolted wheat, the bran not separated from the flour. The coarse meal swells more in rising, and should not be made so stiff as fine flour. It sours more quickly, requires a hotter oven, and longer time to bake. Much kneading is essential to cement together the starch, sugar, albumen, and gluten found in wheat. It is not easy to knead bread sufficiently for a satisfactory result. Many machines for this purpose have been invented, but we have yet to see one that can be as fully depended upon as a strong arm and a skillful hand. The hand only can decide truly when every lump is dissolved, and suitable combinations made. When the dough springs under the touch, instead of clinging to the fingers, when the fist bears its full impression in the dough, and none adheres to the hand, the cook may cease from the labor. This labor may be lightened by pounding and chopping at intervals, and with much benefit; but the hand is the chief dependence.
If the yeast is bitter, pour on water, and let it stand a few hours; then drain it off, and use the thick part which has settled at the bottom. The water will absorb the bitterness, unless it is from age, and not because of too many hops. In this case, a piece of charcoal heated through, but not so hot as to kill the yeast, thrown into the yeast jar, will correct it; but we should prefer to throw away the yeast, and make new.
When all the rules for making good bread have been faithfully followed, all will fail if not properly baked. We think nothing has yet been found that is equal to the brick oven; but in whatever oven you bake, one rule is common to all,—see that the heat is just right; from 350° to 400° is the proper range for bread. If fresh flour or meal is thrown on the bottom of the oven, and turns a clear brown at once, it is right; if it becomes black the oven is too hot.
We have been greatly indebted to Webster’s “Encyclopædia of Domestic Economy,” and Professor Youmans’ “Handbook of Domestic Science,” for our information on bread.
XXVII.
HOW ABOUT THE LITTLE GIRLS?
“A SHORT time since you advocated ‘teaching little boys to be useful’ by training them to do, indoors or out, whatever, for the time being, lay within the compass of their strength and ability. But now we wish to ask, How about little girls? The boys say it isn’t fair to call upon them to perform ‘girls’ work,’ unless the girls are made to reciprocate the favor, and are willing to take their turn in doing ‘boys’ work’ when necessary.”
Bless your little hearts, dear boys! Who objects to that? Not the little girls, certainly. Isn’t it just what many of the big girls are seeking to do, and the big boys—“children of a larger growth” than you, my little man—are striving to prevent? Where is the girl, unless she has by fashion and conventionalities been unnaturally biassed, who would not gladly, once in a while, exchange sewing, sweeping, and dusting for a run out into the free air and glad sunshine, to take your place, and do your work,—feed the chickens, weed in the garden, hoe the corn, milk the cows, or rake the hay,—though modern improvements have of late cheated them of half such pleasures? Anything that little boys can do, little girls would think “such fun,” if they might occasionally have the privilege of doing it,—country girls, we mean,—God help those whose home is in the city! There are so few pleasures there that the young can enjoy in the open air. To walk on hard, cold sidewalks, dressed like little ballet-dancers, or ride over the rough pavements, with no free, untrammeled movement, or through the dirty streets, with their vile, impure smells, can give no such joys as our country damsels, with their larger inheritance and more abundant blessings, are in daily possession of. There is nothing equal to the pleasure our little folks may find, in any kind of outdoor employment, that is suited to their age and strength. These simple labors prepare them for larger and more important duties, and the knowledge will bring abiding comfort and self-reliance as they advance in age and intelligence.
“Will not such work make girls coarse, romping, and hoydenish? Rough, noisy boys are bad enough; would you have our girls become like them?”
Is it the outdoor work that makes them so? Is it not rather the overflow of animal spirits that can find no way of escape but by boisterous, wild action? It is not very agreeable to the old and staid, to be sure, and it certainly is less annoying outdoors than in; yet it promotes health, and is only what we all did, or longed to do, in our youth. Age will soon tame the wild spirits, or restrain a too exuberant overflow, and nothing keeps them in check like pleasant labor. There are, to be sure, sometimes unfortunate associations with really coarse, rude natures, which are very objectionable. We would never allow girls or boys to come under such influence if we could help it; but that evil is to be found in every position,—as often in the house as in the field,—and if not inherent in your child’s own character, the influence will soon be discarded, the dross be separated, and the purer nature rise dominant. You must go out of the world to insure safety from such contact.