A year or two ago we received a letter, from which we will copy a few sentences:—
“I have been trying to get away to the country with my family of two little girls and the baby; and, that they might appear in as fine feathers as any other birds, have overworked and gone to bed sick, instead of being seated in a nice parlor-car, inhaling the pure country air, as we whirl along, away from the city.... When I was a girl, we wore our own hair; and a white muslin dress, with a fresh ribbon for a sash, was all that was needed for the largest party. And how we did enjoy ourselves, and life! The elderly people talked, or played whist, while the young ones danced right merrily the old, square cotillion, Virginia reel, etc.; and mirth and pleasure was the finale of many a day whose early hours had been given to domestic duties, which then were shared by all at home. One day with a dress-maker, and no machine, made a dress entire, without fatigue. The “artiste” was often a lady like ourselves, and sat at the same board, and did her work conscientiously, while the day she passed with us was no dreaded ordeal, but rather a pleasure to look forward to....
“Well, to-day, lying on my bed, overtaxed and overworked, I have been thinking of these things, and then of other mothers, who, like myself, spend all their strength in toil, and lie awake all night, ‘too tired to sleep’; and so employ the wakeful hours in planning work for another day, using up as fast as possible the precious gift of life, which the good Father above gave to us.”
Now, why can we not be content to live happily and easily? I speak not of the sorrows that from time to time come upon us, when the heart bleeds, and the wounds quiver long; for the deep scars which tell where the strain was hardest, tell also of the healing which He who scourges never fails to bring. God did it.
But the toil of sorrow and care we make for ourselves have no promise of His relieving. The slavery of fashion, which so often leads to sin, cannot be carried to his throne, and left there for a blessing. Will not some one tell us some practical way to begin a reform, to release us from a bondage which is becoming intolerable?
It may be to have one ruffle less; to tuck more sparsely the flounce of even the innermost petticoat, or to sew one yard less edging on a baby’s shirt. But whatever and wherever the lesson, I pray you begin it at its A B C; and as it advances, I have faith to believe that headaches will be lessened, “prostrations” less nervous, appetites and sleep more regular, and women lift their heads like the flowers after the rain, glad and grateful.
We had something to say of the injury done to our little children by this early training in devotion to fashion; but we must leave that for another time.
LXVIII.
PICKLING AND PRESERVING.
IN the preliminary steps to almost all new enterprises there are “lions in the way,” from which it is very natural, at first, to shrink back with at least a partial discouragement; and, as a general thing, the two most formidable “lions” which cross the young housekeeper’s path are pickling and preserving; that is, if she has not, before marriage, taken part in this work, under her mother’s supervision. We hear more complaints and repining in this direction than in any other. Time, strength, and money, it is affirmed, are spent in earnest endeavors to succeed; but the time and strength are given in vain, and the money is wasted; so their failures compel them to believe. The pickles become slimy and moldy; the jelly won’t harden; the sweetmeats ferment; the canned fruit turns sour. In short, “the troubles and trials,” writes one, “incident to this portion of housekeeping are enough to make young girls forswear matrimony, and go into a convent; only they never will believe in these trials until they are bound; and then, instead of a convent, a boarding-house would seem the only alternative, if they would escape manifold vexations; for if a young housekeeper do not succeed in all her duties, but particularly with her pickles and preserves, ‘Mrs. Grundy’ is sure to go prying about, and expose every failure, and these failures are attributed to shiftlessness, instead of misfortune.”
We have great sympathy for any one in her first attempt to manage this portion of fall labor, unless able to secure the support of some judicious friend familiar with all the minutiæ necessary to accomplish it creditably. Courage, self-reliance, and a resolute will are of very great advantage, and can usually carry one successfully through most difficulties; but experience is, after all, a wonderful assistant in securing success,—in “making crooked places straight, and the rough places smooth” and easy. Our household journals and papers are full of instructions and receipts for preparing every kind of pickles and preserves; but with all these valuable aids, it will require several experiments, in most cases, before a beginner can feel that the difficulty is mastered, and this work stripped of all mystery; once successfully done, however, it becomes as simple as making bread, pastry, or cake.