“And what will you do now?”
“O, I have sent my dressing-maid to the nursery, sent the seamstress to look for others to replace the deserters, and the coachman to market. I will attend the door till they return, and then I mean to surprise my husband on his return with a dinner of my own cooking. Mother used to let me play cook sometimes when I was young. She thought every girl should at least know how to get a dinner. I learned a good deal then which I think I have not forgotten, and I owe it to her that this little disturbance, the first I have had, doesn’t trouble me at all.”
To be sure, those who keep but one or two servants will think that she had but little to disturb her while a dressing-maid, seamstress, and coachman were on hand. But we think those who keep the greatest number of servants are the most to be pitied, and when changes come it requires much patience and some skill to rearrange those who remain, if one extra step is demanded of them.
We know two little girls whose mother is training them to meet such inconvenient changes when they are women, in the same independent spirit. They have a large-sized toy cooking-stove, but one in which they can make real pies, as the little ladies say, and real bread and real cake can be made on it, though of lilliputian size. The stove is kept in mother’s room, the pipe passing into the nursery flue. They have a little molding-board and rolling-pin, and all needed implements on a small scale, and no richer reward can be given than to be allowed to bake a cake, or something of their own making, to be placed on the family table. Of course they work under mother’s eye and by her instructions, and in later years these little girls will thank their mother for this early teaching.
This playing cook is an easy and pleasant way of teaching little girls the first lessons, and if, as in other days, they were fully taught at home the very important accomplishment of housekeeping by their mothers, there would be no necessity for a union of domestic and intellectual institutions in our schools and seminaries; but, unfortunately, very few, comparatively, of the mothers of the present day have health to teach their daughters as thoroughly as would be satisfactory or available; or, if health be given, the disposition to devote their time and attention to the matter is wanting. For this reason we see no better way than to have this part of our girls’ education incorporated, if possible, with the other branches taught in schools and colleges, so that sewing, sweeping, washing, and cooking—all minutiæ of household knowledge—may be as fully taught as reading, writing, or the so-called higher studies; or, if this union is not possible, at least the domestic education might be made a supplementary course,—the scholars understanding that no one can “graduate” until she has passed through that department.
We fear the good old times of mother-teaching will not very soon be revived, and our idea of uniting this important part of woman’s education with that which is thought higher and more intellectual arose from the impression that, if not in some way instructed in home duties, our girls in the course of four or five years of sedentary life would acquire a distaste for more active employment, or, having destroyed their health by injurious and long-continued application, would be utterly incapacitated for it.
We offer these suggestions in the hope that the attention of some of our progressive spirits may be called to this subject with more effective earnestness than has been shown.
XLVI.
GREAT MISTAKES.
WHEN the weather becomes so warm that furnaces and large fires can be dispensed with, the regular “spring cleaning” is usually commenced in earnest. Until then, the most perfect housekeeper cannot prevent the accumulation of ashes or fine dust, which, ascending from the furnace or stove below with each morning’s renewal, will find a lodgment in carpets and furniture, and can be fully removed only by a longer process than can be given weekly. Were it not that the carpets and furniture would be utterly ruined by the insensible deposit of dust and ashes in the winter, and by flies, spiders, damps, and mold of the summer, which by fall have been too much for the most vigilant care, the great domestic terror over which gentlemen so pathetically lament—a general “house-cleaning”—could easily be dispensed with. Without those special troubles, we could get along, by good management, with but very little general disturbance of the regular routine of household cares, and no derangement of family comfort but what the most fastidious could patiently and cheerfully submit to.
The last touch to the perfect purification of the house, in the estimation of many notable housekeepers, is to have the fireplace or grate brightly polished, and the bricks on the back and sides either whitewashed or painted (slate, drab, or some neutral color), and this once satisfactorily accomplished, they are very sensitive if any wish is expressed to have a fire kindled again before fall, preferring to risk fevers or any of the malarial troubles so likely to result from damp or cool nights and mornings, rather than see their clean, nicely painted grates blackened by the action of fire.