[239]

THANKSGIVING MENUS AND RECIPES

AMERICAN
COOKERY

FORMERLY

THE BOSTON
COOKING-SCHOOL MAGAZINE

OF·CULINARY·SCIENCE and DOMESTIC·ECONOMICS

[240]

Painted by Edw. V. Brewer for Cream of Wheat Co. Copyright by Cream of Wheat Co.
HIS BODYGUARD

[241]

Do You Realize That
Success in Baking
Depends Upon The Leavener?

In reality, if the baking powder is not PURE and PERFECT
in its leavening qualities, food will be spoiled in spite
of skill and care.

RUMFORD

THE WHOLESOME BAKING POWDER

leavens just right. RUMFORD makes the dough of a fine, even texture.
It brings out in the biscuits, muffins, cakes or dumplings the natural,
delicious flavor of the ingredients.

RUMFORD contains the phosphate necessary
to the building of the bodily tissues, so
essential to children.

Many helpful
suggestions
are contained
in Janet McKenzie
Hill’s
famous book
“The Rumford
Way of
Cookery and
Household
Economy”—
sent free.

RUMFORD
COMPANY
Dept. 19
Providence, R. I.

[242]

AMERICAN COOKERY

Vol. XXVI            NOVEMBER, 1921             No. 4

CONTENTS FOR NOVEMBER		PAGE
WINDOWS AND THEIR FITMENTS. Ill.	Mary Ann Wheelwright	251
THE TINY HOUSE. Ill.	Ruth Merton	255
YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO, JIMMIE	Eva J. DeMarsh	258
SOMEBODY’S CAT	Ida R. Fargo	260
HOMING-IT IN AN APARTMENT	Ernest L. Thurston	263
TO EXPRESS PERSONALITY	Dana Girrioer	265
EDITORIALS		270
SEASONABLE-AND-TESTED RECIPES (Illustrated with halftone engravings of prepared dishes)	Janet M. Hill and Mary D. Chambers	273
MENUS FOR WEEK IN NOVEMBER		282
MENUS FOR THANKSGIVING DINNERS		283
CONCERNING BREAKFASTS	Alice E. Whitaker	284
SOME RECIPES FOR PREPARING POULTRY	Kurt Heppe	286
POLLY’S THANKSGIVING PARTY	Ella Shannon Bowles	290
HOME IDEAS AND ECONOMIES:—Vegetable Tarts and Pies—New Ways of Using Milk—Old New England Sweetmeats		292
QUERIES AND ANSWERS		295
THE SILVER LINING		310

$1.50 A YEAR     Published Ten Times a Year      15c A Copy Foreign postage 40c additional Entered at Boston post-office as second-class matter Copyright 1921, by THE BOSTON COOKING-SCHOOL MAGAZINE CO. Pope Bldg., 221 Columbus Ave., Boston 17, Mass.

[243]

[244]

[245]

Are You Using this Latest Edition of
America’s Leading Cook Book?

THE BOSTON COOKING-SCHOOL
COOK BOOK

By FANNIE MERRITT FARMER

In addition to its fund of general information, this latest
edition contains 2,117 recipes, all of which have been tested
at Miss Farmer’s Boston Cooking School, together with
additional chapters on the Cold-Pack Method of Canning,
on the Drying of Fruits and Vegetables, and on Food Values.

This volume also contains the correct proportions of food, tables of measurements
and weights, time-tables for cooking, menus, hints to young housekeepers.

“Good Housekeeping” Magazine says:

“‘The Boston Cooking-School Cook Book’ is one of the volumes to which good housewives
pin their faith on account of its accuracy, its economy, its clear, concise teachings, and
its vast number of new recipes.”

656 Pages         122 Illustrations          $2.50 net

————————

TABLE SERVICE	By Lucy G. Allen
A clear, concise and yet comprehensive exposition of the waitress’ duties. Detailed directions on the duties of the waitress, including care of dining room, and of the dishes, silver and brass, the removal of stains, directions for laying the table, etc.
Fully illustrated. $1.75 net
COOKING FOR TWO	By Janet McKenzie Hill
“‘Cooking for Two’ is exactly what it purports to be—a handbook for young housekeepers. The bride who reads this book need have no fear of making mistakes, either in ordering or cooking food supplies.”—Woman’s Home Companion.
With 150 illustrations. $2.25 net
JUST PUBLISHED
FISH COOKERY	By Evelene Spencer and John N. Cobb
This new volume offers six hundred recipes for the preparation of fish, shellfish, and other aquatic animals, and there are recipes for fish broiled, baked, fried and boiled; for fish stews and chowders, purées and broths and soup stocks; for fish pickled and spiced, preserved and potted, made into fricassées, curries, chiopinos, fritters and croquettes; served in pies, in salads, scalloped, and in made-over dishes. In fact, every thinkable way of serving fish is herein described.
$2.00 net

For Sale at all Booksellers or of the Publishers
LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY, 34 BEACON ST., BOSTON

[246]

Books on Household Economics

THE BOSTON COOKING-SCHOOL MAGAZINE COMPANY presents the following as a
list of representative works on household economies. Any of the books will be sent postpaid
upon receipt of price.

Special rates made to schools, clubs and persons wishing a number of books. Write for quotation
on the list of books you wish. We carry a very large stock of these books. One order to us
saves effort and express charges. Prices subject to change without notice.

[248]

[249]

FRUIT SUPRÊME

Fruit Suprême

Select choice, fresh fruit of all varieties
obtainable. Slice, using care to remove
all skins, stones, seeds, membranes, etc.;
for example, each section of orange must
be freed from the thin membranous skin
in which it grows. Chill the prepared
fruit, arrange in fruit cocktail glasses
with maraschino syrup. A maraschino
cherry is placed on the very top of each
service.

[250]

WOODEN SHUTTERS, ORNAMENTED, ARE SUITABLE FOR REMODELLED HOUSES

[251]

American Cookery

Windows and Their Fitments

By Mary Ann Wheelwright

Through the glamour of the
Colonial we are forced to acknowledge
the classic charm shown
in late seventeenth and early eighteenth
century window designs. Developed, as
they were, by American carpenters who
were stimulated by remembrance of their
early impressions of English architecture
received in the mother land, there is no
precise or spiritless copy of English
details; rather there is expressed a
vitality that has been brought out by
earnest effort to reproduce the spirit
desired. Undoubtedly the lasting success
of early American craftsmanship has
been due to the perfect treatment of
proportions, as related one to the other.
That these are not imitations is proved
by an occasional clumsiness which would
be impossible, if they were exact copies of
their more highly refined English prototypes.

The grasp of the builder’s mind is
vividly revealed in the construction of
these windows, for while blunders are
often made, yet successes are much more
frequent. They are evolved from remembered
motives that have been unified and
balanced, that they might accord with
the exterior and be knitted successfully
into the interior trim. Some of these
windows still grace seventeenth century
houses, and are found not only on old
southern plantations, but all through New
England, more especially along the sea
coast. True products are they of Colonial
craftsmanship, brought into existence by
skilled artisans, who have performed their
work so perfectly that today they are
found unimpaired, striking a dominant
note in accord with the architectural
feeling of the period.

GROUP WINDOWS ON STAIRWAY

There is no question but that windows
such as these lend character to any house,
provided, of course, that they coincide
with the period. Doubtless the designing
of modified Colonial houses is responsible,
in part, for the present-day revival
of interest, not solely in windows of the
Colonial period, but also in that which
immediately preceded and followed it.

The first ornamental windows were of
the casement type, copied from English
cottage homes. Like those, they opened
outward, and were designed with small
panes, either diamond or square shaped.
As they were in use long before glass was
manufactured in this country, the Colonists
were forced to import them direct[252]
from England. Many were sent ready to
be inserted, with panes already leaded in
place. Proof of this is afforded by
examples still in existence. These often
show strange patches or cutting. The
arrangement of casements varies from
single windows to groups of two or three,
and they were occasionally supplemented
by fixed transoms. Surely no phase of
window architecture stands out more
conspicuously in the evolution of our
early designs than the casement with its
tiny panes, ornamented with handwrought
iron strap-hinges which either
flared into arrow heads, rounded into
knobs, or lengthened into points. That
they were very popular is shown from the
fact that they withstood the changes of
fashion for over a century, not being
abolished until about the year 1700.

Little drapery is needed in casement
windows where they are divided by
mullions. The English draw curtain is
admirable for this purpose. It can be
made of casement cloth with narrow side
curtains and valance of bright material.
A charming combination was worked out
in a summer cottage. The glass curtains
were of black and white voile with tiny
figures introduced. This was trimmed
with a narrow black and white fringe,
while the overdrapery had a black background
patterned with old rose.

GROUPED WINDOWS WITH SQUARE PANES, LACE GLASS CURTAINS AND CRETONNE OVER CURTAINS

In the field of architectural progress,
more especially during the last few years,
there have arisen vast possibilities for
the development of odd windows. These,
if properly placed, showing correct grouping,
are artistic, not only from the outside,
but from the inside as well. The
artistic woman, realizing the value of
color, will fill a bright china bowl with
glowing blossoms and place it in the
center of a wide window sill, where the[253]
sun, playing across them, will carry their
cheerful color throughout the room.
She also trains vines to meander over the
window pane, working out a delicate
tracery that is most effective, suspending
baskets of ferns from the upper casement,
that she may break the length of her
Colonial window. Thus through many
artifices she causes her simple room to
bloom and blossom like a rose.

FOR FRENCH DOORS, USE MUSLIN WITH SILK-LINED OVERHANG

The progress made in window architecture
is more apparent as we study the
early types. Then small attention was
paid to details, the windows placed with
little thought of artistic grouping. Their
only object to light the room, often they
stood like soldiers on parade, in a straight
row, lining the front of the house.

Out of the past has come a vast array
of period windows, each one of which is
of interest. They display an unmistakable
relationship to one another, for
while we acknowledge that they differ in
detail and ornamentation, yet do they
invariably show in their conception some
underlying unity. There is no more
fascinating study than to take each one
separately and carefully analyze its every
detail, for thus only can we recognize and
appreciate the links which connect them
with the early American types.

We happen upon them not only in the
modified Colonial structures, but in
houses in every period of architecture.
It may be only a fragment, possibly a
choice bit of carving; or it may be a
window composed in the old-fashioned
manner of from nine to thirty panes,
introduced in Colonial days for the sake
of avoiding the glass tax levied upon them
if over a certain size. A charming example
of a reproduction of one of these
thirty-paned windows may be seen in a
rough plaster house built in Salem, after
the great fire. The suggestion was taken
from an old historic house in a fine state
of preservation in Boxford, Mass.

The first American homes derived their
plans and their finish from medieval
English tradition. They were forced to
utilize such materials as they were able
to obtain, and step by step they bettered[254]
the construction and ornamentation of
their homes. As increasing means and
added material allowed, they planned and
executed more elaborately, not only in
size and finish, but in the adding of
window casings, caps, and shutters.

The acme of Colonial architecture was
reached with the development of the
large square houses with exquisitely
designed entrances and porticos. These
often showed recessed and arched windows,
also those of the Palladian type.
At the Lindens, Danvers, Mass., a
memory-haunted mansion, may be seen
one of the finest examples of these
recessed windows. This famous dwelling,
the work of an English architect, who
built it in about 1770, is linked with
American history through its use by
General Gage as his headquarters during
the Revolution.

The recessed windows that are found
here reveal delicate mouldings in the
classic bead and filet design, and are
surmounted by an elaborate moulded
cornice, which lends great dignity to the
room. This is supported by delicate
pilasters and balanced by the swelling
base shown below the window seats.
Such a window as this is no mere incident,
or cut in the wall; on the contrary, it is
structural treatment of woodwork. Another
feature of pronounced interest may
be noted on the stair landing, where a
charming Palladian window overlooks
the old-fashioned box-bordered garden
that has been laid out at the rear.

We have dwelt, perhaps, too much on
the old Colonial types, neglecting those
of the present day, but it has been through
a feeling that with an intimate knowledge
of their designs we shall be better able to
appreciate the products of our own age,
whose creators drew their inspiration
from the past. A modern treatment of
windows appears in our illustration.

75 BEACON STREET, BOSTON

[255]

THATCHED-STYLE COTTAGE FOR AMERICAN SUBURBS

The Tiny House

By Ruth Merton

If, some fine day, all housewives awoke
to the fact that most of the trouble
in the world originates in the kitchen,
there would shortly be a little more interest
in kitchen problems and not so much
distaste for and neglect of this important
part of the house.

Of course, women will cry out that we
have never in our lives been so intent on
just that one subject, kitchens, as we are
today.

I admit that there is a good deal of
talk going on which might lead one to
believe that vacuum cleaners and electric-washing
machines, etc., are to bring about
the millennium for housekeepers; and
there is also a good work going forward to
make of housework a real profession.

But, until in the average home there
comes the feeling that the kitchen—the
room itself—is just as much an expression
of the family life and aims and ideals
as the living room or any other room, we
shall be only beating about the bush in
our endeavor to find a remedy for some of
our perplexing troubles.

Nowadays, women who are doing
much work out in the big world—the
so-called “enfranchised” women—are
many of them proving that they find
housework no detriment to their careers
and some even admit that they enjoy it.

But so far most of them have standardized
their work and systematized it, with
the mere idea of doing what they have to
do “efficiently” and well, with the least
expenditure of time and energy. And
they have more than succeeded in proving
the “drudgery” plea unfounded.

Now, however, we need something
more. We need to make housework
attractive; in other words, to put charm
in the kitchen.

There is one very simple way of doing[256]
this, that is to make kitchens good to
look at, and inviting as a place to stay
and work.

For the professional, scientifically inclined
houseworker, the most beautiful
kitchen may be the white porcelain one,
with cold, snowy cleanliness suggesting
sterilized utensils and carefully measured
food calories.

But to the woman whose cooking and
dishwashing are just more or less pleasant
incidents in a pleasant round of home and
social duties, the kitchen must suggest
another kind of beauty—not necessarily
a beauty which harbors germs, nor
makes the work less conveniently done,
but a beauty of kindly associations with
furniture and arrangements.

Who could grow fond of a white-tiled
floor or a porcelain sink as they exist in
so many modern kitchens! And as for
the bulgy and top-heavy cook stoves,
badly proportioned refrigerators, and
kitchen cabinets—well, we should have
to like cooking very well indeed before
we could feel any pleasure in the mere
presence of these necessary but unnecessarily
ugly accompaniments to our work.

We have come to think of cleanliness
as not only next to godliness, but as
something which takes the place of
beauty—is beauty.

This attitude is laziness on our part, for
we need sacrifice nothing to utility and
convenience, yet may still contrive our
kitchen furniture so that it, also, pleases
the senses. With a little conscientious
reflection on the subject we may make
kitchens which have all the charm of the
old, combined with all the convenience of
the new; and woman will have found a
place to reconcile her old and new selves,
the housewife and the suffragist, the
mother-by-the-fireside and the participator
in public affairs. The family will
have found a new-old place of reunion—the
kitchen!

Granted then that our tiny house has a
kitchen-with-charm, and an “other
room,” the rest of the available space
may be divided into the requisite number
of bed and living rooms, according to the
needs of the family.

KITCHEN FOR THATCHED-STYLE COTTAGE

There is only one other very important
thing to look out for; that is the matter
of closets. There is no rule for the[257]
number of closets which will make the
tiny house livable, but I should say, the
more the merrier. If there is ever question
of sacrificing a small room and gaining
a large closet, by all means do it,
for absolute neatness is the saving grace
of small quarters, and storage places are
essential, if one does not wish to live in a
vortex of yesterday’s and tomorrow’s
affairs with no room to concentrate on the
present.

FIRST-FLOOR PLAN OF THATCHED COTTAGE

Inside and outside the tiny house must
conform to one law—elimination of non-essentials;
and the person who has a
clear idea of his individual needs and has
also the strength of will to limit his needs
to his circumstances, will find in his tiny
house a satisfaction more than compensating
for any sacrifices he may have
made.

No one doubts that it is a sacrifice to
give up a lesser pleasure even to gain the
“summum bonum” and that it does take
will power to keep oneself from weakly
saying in the face of temptation, “Oh,
well! what does it matter! My little
house would perhaps be better without
that, but I have grown accustomed to it,
let it stay!”

Oh! the waste lands which lie beneath
the sun trying to call themselves gardens!
Oh! the pitiful little plots, unfenced,
unused, entirely misunderstood by people
who stick houses in the middle of them
and call them “gardens”!

No amount of good grass seed, or
expensive planting, or well-cared-for flowers
and lawns will ever make the average
suburban lot anything but a “lot,” and
most of them might as well, or better,
be rough, uncultivated fields for all the
relation they bear to the houses upon
them or the use they were intended for.

[258]

“You’re Not Supposed To, Jimmie”

By Eva J. DeMarsh

“Huh!” exclaimed Jennie, “there
comes Aunt Rachel! Wonder
what she wants now? Last
time it was—no, it wasn’t—that was
the time when Jimmie Upson and his
wife were here. How scandalized Aunt
Rachel looked! Said I’d ruin my husband,
and a lot of such tommyrot. As
though Jimmie and I couldn’t afford a
spread now and then! I didn’t, and I
won’t, tell Aunt Rachel that it was a
special party and a special occasion.
Of course, I know Jimmie isn’t a millionaire,
but—it’s none of Aunt Rachel’s
business, so there!” she finished defiantly.

Aunt Rachel plodded blissfully up the
walk. “Jennie’ll be glad to see me, I
know,” she mused. “She’s high-headed,
but she knows a good thing when she
sees it, and I help her a lot.”

Jennie received her aunt with cordiality,
but not effusiveness. To be
discourteous was something she could not
be. Besides, she liked Aunt Rachel and
pitied her idiosyncrasies. “Why can’t
she be as nice when she goes to people’s
houses as she is when she is at home?”
she mused. “I love to go there, and
everything is just perfect, but the minute
she steps outside the door—well, we all
know Aunt Rachel! And she doesn’t go
home early either. Jimmie’ll be furious.
She always calls him ‘James’ and asks
after his health and—and everything.
I do so want him to like her, but I’m
afraid he never will. I do wish I could
get her interested in something. I have
it!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “The
very thing!”

Aunt Rachel looked up in surprise.
“What’s the matter, Jennie?” she inquired.

“Oh, nothing much, Auntie! I was
just thinking aloud.”

“Don’t!” said Aunt Rachel. “It’s a
bad habit, Jennie—though I do do it
myself, sometimes.”

“Sometimes!” Jennie turned away to
hide her smile. Why, Aunt Rachel made
a business of talking aloud!

As luck would have it, the dinner went
off to Aunt Rachel’s satisfaction. It was
good, but conservative.

“Jennie is learning,” thought the old
lady to herself. “After I’ve been here a
few times more, she’ll get along all
right.”

Aunt Rachel hadn’t noticed that every
idea Jennie has used was, strictly, either
Jennie’s own or her mother’s.

“How long does your aunt expect to
stay?” asked Jimmie, casually, while
Jennie was clearing the table. Aunt
Rachel was in the kitchen. She prided
herself on never being “a burden on any
one.” Doubtless, some of her friends
would have preferred that she be. Most
of us have a skeleton we do not wish to
keep on exhibition.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe a week or
two,” said Jennie, mischievously. “She
hasn’t told me yet.”

“Oh!” replied Jimmie, in a disappointed
voice. “Business down town”?
“Dinner at the Club”? No, he couldn’t
keep that up indefinitely. Besides, what
did a man want of a home, if he wasn’t
going to live in it? Covertly, Jennie
watched him. She knew every expression
of his face. It amused her, but she
was sorry, too. “Jimmie wants awfully
to flunk—and dassent,” was her mental
comment.

“Anything on for this evening, Jimmie?”
inquired Jennie, sweetly, too sweetly,
Jimmie thought. He had heard those
dulcet tones before.

“Yes—no!” stammered Jimmie. How
he wished he had! However, as Jennie
said no more, he dismissed the subject[259]
from his mind. She probably didn’t
really mean anything, anyway.

When James Atherton reached home
that evening, he found the house lighted
from top to bottom. Beautifully dressed
women were everywhere, and in their
midst—Aunt Rachel, at her best!

“Ladies,” she exclaimed, and Jimmie
paused to listen, “I am honored—more
so than you can guess—at the distinction
conferred upon me. This afternoon
you have seen fit to make me one of your
leaders in a most important movement
for civic betterment—an honor never
before accorded a woman in this city—and
I need not assure you that you shall
not regret your choice. As a member of
the Civic Betterment Committee of
Loudon, I shall do my duty.” (“I bet
she will!” commented Jimmie, sotto
voce.) “Again I thank you!” went on
Aunt Rachel. “There’s a work for you
and for me now to do, and—” she
paused impressively, “we will do it.”
(“I’ll bet on you every time, Auntie,”
commented Jimmie to himself.)

“Jimmie Atherton, what in the world
are you doing?” whispered an exasperated
voice. “Hurry, Jimmie, hurry—do!”
urged Jennie. “Dinner is almost
ready to serve, and you haven’t even
made the first move to dress. Hurry,
Jimmie, please!” And Jimmie did. He
fairly sprinted into his clothes, appearing
presently fully clad and good to look
upon.

“Bet you a nickel Jennie couldn’t have
done that,” he reflected, complacently.
“Women never can get a move on them,
where clothes are concerned.”

That was the best evening Aunt Rachel
had ever spent. She was the center of
attraction; she had found a mission—not
a desultory one, but one far-reaching
in scope, so it seemed to her; and like a
war-horse, she was after the charge.

Jennie’s plans went through without a
hitch. Aunt Rachel became, not only a
member of the Committee on Civic
Betterment, but, as well, its head and,
in due season, mayor of the little city
itself. Under her active management,
Loudon became noted as a model city of
its size, one good to look upon and good
to live in. Crime fled, or scurried to
cover, and Aunt Rachel blossomed like a
rose. One day when Jimmie came home
something seemed to please him greatly.

“What do you think, Jennie,” he said,
“Aunt Rachel is going to be married!
Yes, she is! I’ve got it on the best of
authority—the groom himself.”

“Who?” gasped Jennie. “Why, Jimmie,
she just HATES men! She’s always
said they were only a necessary evil.”

“Yes, I know,” smiled Jimmie, “that’s
what she used to say, but she’d never met
Jacob Crowder then.”

“Jacob Crowder!” exclaimed Jennie.
“Why, Jimmie, he’s as rich as Croesus,
and he’s always hated women as much as
Aunt Rachel has hated men!”

“Yes,” said Jimmie, “but that was
before he met Aunt Rachel. He has
been her righthand man for some time
now, and they’ve seemed to hit it off
pretty well. Guess they’ll get along all
right in double harness.”

“When the girls and I steered Aunt
Rachel into politics,” said Jennie, “little
we thought where it would all end. I’m
glad, glad, though! Aunt Rachel is
really splendid, but I’ve always thought
she was suffering from something. Now
I know what—it’s ingrowing ambition.
She will have all she can do now to take
care of her own home and we won’t see
her so often.”

“Oh, ho! So that’s it?” smiled Jimmie.
“Well, you girls, as has happened to
many another would-be plotter before
now, have found things have gotten
rather out of your hands, haven’t you?”

Jennie shrugged her shoulders.

“We can have the wedding here, can’t
we, Jimmie?” she asked, somewhat
wistfully.

Jimmie wondered if she had heard him.
Perhaps—and then again, perhaps not.

“I don’t see where we come in on it,”
he remarked. “It’s a church affair, you
know.”[260]

“Oh!” said Jennie. “But there’ll be a
reception, of course, and if she’ll let us
have it here, I’ll have every one of us girls
she has helped so much in the past.”

Jimmie stared. “Consistency—” he
muttered.

“What’s that you said, Jimmie? Are
you ill?” inquired Jennie, anxiously.

“No!” replied Jimmie, “it’s you women!
I can’t understand you at all!”

“You’re not supposed to, Jimmie,
dear,” answered Jennie sweetly.

Somebody’s Cat

By Ida R. Fargo

I never thought I should come to
like cats. But I have. Perhaps it
is because, as my Aunt Amanda used
to say, we change every seven years, sort
of start over again, as it were; and find
we have new thoughts, different ideas,
unexpected tastes, strange attractions,
and shifting doubts. Or, it may be, we
merely come to a new milestone from
which, looking back, we are able to regard
our own personality from a hitherto
unknown angle. We discover ourselves
anew, and delight in the experiment.

Or, it may all be, as my husband
stolidly affirms, just the logical result of
meeting Sir Christopher Columbus, a
carnivorous quadruped of the family
Felidæ, much domesticated, in this case,
white with markings as black and shiny
as a crow’s wing, so named because he
voyaged about our village, not in search
of a new world, but in search of a new
home. He came to us. It is flattering
to be chosen. He stayed. But who
could resist Sir Christopher?

My husband and my Aunt Amanda
may both be right. I strongly suspect
they are. I also strongly suspect that
Sir Christopher himself has much to do
with my change of mental attitude:
He is well-mannered, good to look upon,
quite adorable, independent and patient.
(Indeed, if people were half as patient
as my cat this would be a different world
to live in.) More: He has taught me
many things, he talks without making
too much noise; in fact, I have read
whole sermons in his soft purrings. And
I verily believe that many people might
learn much from the family cat, except
for the fact that we humans are such poor
translators. We know only our own
language. More’s the pity.

Had I known Sir Christopher as a
kitten, doubtless he might have added
still more to my education. But I did
not. He was quite full grown when I
first laid my eyes upon him. He was
sitting in the sun, on top of a rail fence,
blinking at me consideringly. The fence
skirted a little trail that led from my
back yard down to Calapooia Creek. It
seemed trying to push back a fringe of
scrubby underbrush which ran down a
hillside; a fringe which was, in truth,
but a feeler from the great forest of
Douglas fir which one saw marching, file
upon file, row upon row, back and back
to the snows of the high Cascades.

And the white of Sir Christopher’s vest
and snowy gauntlets was just as gleamingly
clean as the icy frosting over the
hills. Sir Christopher, even a cat, believed
firmly in sartorial pulchritude.
I admired him for that, even from the
first glance; and, afterward, I put me
up three new mirrors: I did not mean to
be outdone by my cat, I intended to look
tidy every minute, and there is nothing
like mirrors to tell the truth. Credit for
the initial impulse, however, belongs to
Christopher C.

But that first morning, I merely
glanced at him, sitting so comfortably on
the top rail of the fence, blinking in the
sun.[261]

“Somebody’s cat,” said I, and went on
down to the creek to see if Curlylocks
had tumbled in.

Coming back, the cat was still there.
Doubtless he had taken a nap between
times. But he might have been carved
of stone, so still he lay, till my youngest,
tugging at my hand, coaxed:

“Kitty—kitty—kitty. Muvver, see
my ‘ittle kitty?”

And I declare, if Sir Christopher (my
husband and ten-year-old Ted named
him that very evening) didn’t look at me
and wink. Then he jumped down and
followed, very dignified, very discreet.

I attempted to shoo him back. But
he wouldn’t shoo. He merely stopped
and seemed to consider matters. Or
serenely remained far enough off to “play
safe.”

Meanwhile, my youngest continued to
reiterate: “Kitty—kitty—kitty! My
‘ittle kitty!”

“No, Curlylocks,” said I, “it isn’t your
little kitty. It is somebody’s cat.”

Which merely shows that I knew not
whereof I spoke. Sir Christopher proceeded
to teach me.

Of course, at first I thought his stay
with us was merely a temporary matter;
like some folk, he had decided to go on a
visit and stay over night. But when Sir
Christopher continued to tarry, I enquired,
I looked about, I advertised—and
I assured the children that some one,
somewhere, must surely be mourning the
loss of a precious pet; some one, sometime,
would come to claim him.

But no one came.

Days slid away, weeks slipped into
months, winter walked our way, and
spring, and summer again. Sir Christopher
C. had deliberately adopted us,
for he made no move toward finding
another abiding place. He was no longer
Somebody’s cat, he was our cat; for,
indeed, is not possession nine points of
the law?

Then one day when heat shimmered
over the valley, when the dandelions had
seeded and the thistles had bloomed,
when the corn stood heavy and the
cricket tuned his evening fiddle, when
spots in the lawn turned brown, where
the sprinkler missed, when the baby
waked and fretted, and swearing, sweating
men turned to the west and wondered
what had held up the sea breeze—Sir
Christopher missed his supper. He
vanished as completely as if he had been
kidnapped by the Air Patrol. Three
weeks went by and we gave him up for
lost, although the children still prowled
about looking over strange premises,
peeping through back gates, trailing
down unaccustomed lanes and along
Calapooia Creek, for “We might find
him,” they insisted. Truly, “Hope
springs eternal.”

“Perhaps, he has gone back where he
came from,” said Daddy. “Perhaps, he
has grown tired of us.”

But My Man’s voice was a little too
matter-of-factly gruff—indeed, he had
grown very fond of Sir Christopher—and
as for the children, they would
accept no such explanation.

It was Curlylocks who found Sir
Christopher—or did Sir Chris find
Curlylocks? Anyway, they came walking
through the gate, my youngest
declaiming, “Kitty—kitty—kitty!
My ‘ittle kitty!”

And since that time, every summer,
Sir Christopher takes a vacation. He
comes back so sleek and proud and happy
that he can hardly contain himself. He
rubs against each of us in turn, purring
the most satisfied purr—if we could but
fully understand the dialect he speaks!—as
if he would impart to us something
truly important.

“I declare,” said Daddy, one day, “I
believe that cat goes up in the hills and
hunts.”

“Camps out and has a good time,”
added daughter.

“And fishes,” suggested Ted. “Cats
do catch fish. Sometimes. I’ve read
about it.”

Daddy nodded. “Seems to agree with
him, whatever he does.”[262]

“Vacations agree with anybody,” asserted
my oldest. And then, “I don’t
see why we can’t go along with Sir Chris.
At least we might go the same time he
does.”

“Mother, couldn’t we?”—it was a
question that gathered weight and momentum
like a snowball rolling down
hill, for I had always insisted that, with
a big family like mine, I could never
bother to go camping. I wanted to be
where things were handy: running water
from a faucet, bathtubs and gas and
linoleum, a smoothly cut lawn and a
morning postman. Go camping with a
family like mine? Never.

But the thought once set going would
not down. Perhaps, after all, Sir Christopher
was right and I was wrong. For
people did go camping, most people, even
groups to the number of nine (the right
count for our family), and they seemed to
enjoy it. They fought with mosquitoes,
and fell into creeks; they were blotched
with poison oak, black from exposure,
lame from undue exercise, and looked
worse than vagrant gipsies—but they
came home happy. Even those who
spent days in bed to rest up from their
rest (I have known such) seemed happy.
And every one sighs and says, “We had
such a good time! We’re planning to go
back again next summer.”

So at last I gave up—or gave in. We
went to the mountains, following up the
trail along Calapooia Creek; we camped
and hunted and fished to the hearts’
content. We learned to cook hotcakes
out-of-doors, and how to make sourdough
biscuit, and to frizzle bacon before a bonfire,
and to bake ham in a bread pan, such
as our mothers fitted five loaves of bread
in; we learned to love hash, and like
potatoes boiled in their jackets, and
coffee with the cream left out. We went
three miles to borrow a match; we divided
salt with the stranger who had forgotten
his; we learned that fish is good on other
days than Friday and that trout crisps
beautifully in bacon grease; we found
eleventeen uses for empty lard pails and
discovered the difference between an owl
and a tree toad. We gained a speaking
acquaintance with the Great Dipper, and
learned where to look for the north star,
why fires must be put out and what chipmunks
do for a living. We learned—

Last night we came home.

“Now, mother, aren’t you really glad
you went?” quizzed Daddy.

“Yes-s,” said I, slowly, “I’m glad I
went. It has been a new experience. I
feel like I’d gained a degree at the State
University.”

My understanding mate merely chuckled—and
went on unpacking the tinware.
But Ted spoke up:

“Gee! Bet I make good in English III
this year. Got all sorts of ideas for
themes. This trip’s been bully.”

“We’ll go again, won’t we, Mother?”
asked my oldest.

“I think we’ll always go again,”
answered I—some sober thinking I was
doing, as I folded away the blankets.

“Let me get supper”—it was Laura,
my middle girl, speaking—”surely I can
cook on gas, if I can over a campfire.”
And Laura had never wanted to cook!
Strange tendencies develop when one
lives out in the open a space of time.

But Curlylocks was undisturbed.
“Kitty—kitty—kitty! My ‘ittle
kitty!” he reiterated. And truly, so my
neighbor told me, Sir Christopher had
beat us home by a scant twenty-four
hours. He rubbed about us in turns,
happily purring.

“He’s telling us all what a good time he
had,” said I, understanding at last, “but
he is adding, I think, that the best part
of going away is getting home again.”

“But if we didn’t go we couldn’t get
home again,” said Somebody.

And somebody’s cat purred his approval.
Perhaps, after all, he finds us a
teachable family. Or perhaps he knows
that once caught by the lure of the hills,
once having tasted the tang of mountainous
ozone, we will always go back—he
has rare intuitions, has Sir Christopher.
For, already, I find myself figuring to[263]
fashion a detachable long handle for the
frying pan: Yes, next time, we shall plan
to conserve both fingers and face. Next
time! That is the beauty of vacation
days: We think of them when the frost
comes, when the snow drifts deep, when
the arbutus blooms again—and we plan,
plan, plan! And are very happy—because
of memory, and anticipation.
We have opened barred windows, and
widened our life’s horizon. Does Sir
Christopher guess? Wise old Sir Chris!

Homing-It in an Apartment

By Ernest L. Thurston

There were four of them—all
girls employed in great offices.
Alone, far away from their home
towns and families, they were all suffering
from attacks of too-much-boarding-house.
Each was longing for a real,
home-y place to live in. And out of that
longing was born, in time, an idea, which
developed, after much planning, figuring
and price-getting, into a concrete plan
and a course of action. They were good
friends, of congenial tastes, and so they
decided to “home-it” together.

Now this is nothing new, in itself. It
was the thorough way they went about it
that was not so common. They applied
the rules of their business life, and
studied their proposed path before they
set foot in it. They looked over the field,
weighed the problems, decided what they
could do, and then arranged to put themselves
on a sound financial basis from the
start.

All had occupied separate rooms in
sundry boarding houses. Each had experience
in “meals in” and “meals out.”
Each could analyze fairly accurately her
expenses for the preceding six months.
After study, they decided that, without
increasing their combined expense, they
could have comfortable quarters of their
own and more than meet all their needs.
“Freedom, food, furniture, fixing and
friends,” said Margaret, “without the
boarding house flavor.”

They longed for a little house and
garden of their own. But they were busy
people, and this would mean extra hours
of care and labor, more demands on their
strength, and a longer travel distance—a
load they felt they could not carry.
So they sought an apartment.

The search was long but they found it.
It was in a small structure, on a quiet
street, and several flights up, without
elevator. But, as Peggy said, “Elevators
have not been in style in our boarding
houses, and flights of stairs have—so
what matters it?” The suite, when you
arrived up there, was airy and comfortable.
It provided two bedrooms, a
cheery living room, a dining room and a
kitchenette. Clarice remarked, “The
‘ette’ is so small we can save steps by
being within hand’s reach of everything,
no matter where we stand.”

The rent was less than the combined
rental of their four old rooms. Heat and
janitor service were provided without
charge, but they were obliged to meet the
expense of gas for the range and of
electric lights.

They might have lived along happily
in their new nest without a budget, and
without specific agreements as to expense.
But they were business girls. So they
sat right down and decided every point,
modifying each, under trial, to a workable
proposition. Then they stuck to it
and made it work.

There was the matter of furnishing.
Each partner, while retaining personal
title to her property, contributed to
general use such articles of furniture she
possessed as met apartment needs. From
one, for example, came a comfortable[264]
bed, from another, chairs and a reading
lamp, from a third a lounge chair, and
from the fourth her piano and couch.
Of small rugs, sofa pillows, pictures and
miscellaneous small furnishings there
were sufficient to make possible a real
selection.

Then the four determined on further
absolute essentials to make the rooms
homelike. There were needed comfortable
single beds for each, dressing tables,
bed linen, dining-room equipment,
kitchen ware, a chair or two, and draperies.
Their decisions were made in
committee-of-the-whole, and nothing was
done that could not meet with the willing
consent of all.

To meet the first cost they each contributed
fifty dollars from their small
savings, and assessed themselves a dollar
and a quarter per week thereafter. They
then bought their equipment, paying
part cash and arranging for the balance
on time. And be sure it was fun
getting it!

Then there was the question of meals.
It was determined to prepare their
breakfasts and dinners and to put up
lunches. To allow a certain freedom, it
was agreed that each should pack her own
lunch, and that regular meals should be
cooked and served, turn and turn about,
each partner acting for a week. A second
member washed the dishes and took
general care of the apartment. Thus a
girl’s general program reduced to,

During an experimental period, the
cost of provisions and ice was summed up
weekly and paid by equal assessment.
Later a fixed assessment of seven dollars,
each, was agreed to, and proved sufficient.
There were even slight surpluses to go
into the mannikin jar on the living room
mantel, which Clarice called the “Do
Drop Inn”, because it provided from its
contents refreshment for those who
dropped in of an evening.

Naturally there was a friendly rivalry,
not only in making the most of the allotment,
but in providing attractive meals
and dainty special dishes. Clarice’s
stuffed tomatoes won deserved fame,
and Margaret made a reputation on
cheese soufflé. Peggy, too, was a wizard
with the chafing dish.

Consideration was given the matter of
special guests, either for meals, or for
over-night. The couch in the living
room provided emergency sleeping quarters.
As for meals, separate fixed rates
were set for breakfasts and for dinners.
This was paid into the regular weekly
provision fund by the girl who brought
the guest, or by all four equally, if she
were a “general” guest. The girl who
brought a guest also “pitched in” and
helped with the work.

Whenever the group went out for a
meal, as they did now and then for a
change, or for amusement, or recreation,
each girl paid her own share at once.

Finally, there was the factor of laundry.
After a little experimenting, household
linen was worked out on an “average”
basis, so that a regular amount could be
assessed each week. Of course each girl
met the expense of her own private
laundry.

As a result of this planning, each
member of the household found herself
obligated to meet a weekly assessment
containing the following items: Rent,
furniture tax, household laundry, extras
($1.00) and personal laundry. Of these,
the only item not positively fixed, as to
amount, was the last. Each girl, naturally,
paid all her strictly private expense,
including clothes, and medical and dental
service.

One of the number was chosen treasurer
for a three-months’ term, and was
then, in turn, succeeded by another, so
that each of the four served once a year.
The treasurer received all assessments,
gave the weekly allotment to the housewife,
and paid other bills. Minor defi[265]ciencies
were met from “surplus.” Moreover,
she kept accurate accounts.

Once settled comfortably in their
quarters, with boarding-house memories
receding into the background, it took but
little time for a happy, home-y atmosphere
to develop. Of course, with closer
intimacy, there were temperamental adjustments,
as always, but they came
easily. The household machinery ran
smoothly, almost from the first, because
there was a machine, properly set up,
operated and adjusted—rather than an
uncertain makeshift.

To Express Personality

By Dana Girrioer

“‘Keep house?’ I should say not!”
answered Anne, who had journeyed
out into the suburbs to
“tell” her engagement to Burt Winchester
to the home folks before she
“announced” it. “I’m going to retire to
the Kensington, or some nice apartment
hotel, at the ripe old age of twenty-four.
What’d you think, we’re back in the dark
ages, B. F.?”

“‘B. F.’?” repeated Aunt Milly.

“Before Ford,” said Anne, laughing.
“Oh, it was the thing for you, Auntie,
you couldn’t have brought up your own
big family in a city apartment, to say
nothing of stretching your wings to cover
Little Orphant Annie, besides, everybody
kept house when you were married!”

“And now nobody does, except a few
Ancient Mariners?” inquired Cousin Dan.

Anne blushed. “Of course it suits
some people, now,” she amended, hastily.
“Perhaps it’s all right to keep house, if
you have a big family, or lots of money
and can hire all the fussing done.”

“You don’t need to hire fussing, if
you’ve a big family,” said Aunt Milly,
her eyes twinkling behind the gold-bowed
spectacles. “You’ll keep on with the
drawing—illustrating?”

“Surely,” answered Anne. “Burt will
keep right on being a lawyer.”

“I see,” said George. “Well, Queen
Anne, I suppose when we want to visit
you we can hire a room in the same block,
I mean, hotel. I thought, perhaps, having
so far conformed to the habits of us
Philistines as to take a husband, you
might go the whole figure and take a
house!”

“Please!” begged Anne. In that tone,
it was a catchword dating back to nursery
days which the elf-like Anne had shared
with a whole brood of sturdy cousins, and
meant, “Please stop fooling; I want to be
taken seriously.”

“I love to draw—but my people don’t
look alive, somehow,” said little Milly,
wistfully.

Cried Anne: “Keep trying, Milly;
there is nothing so lovely as to have even
a taste for some sort of creative work, and
to develop it; to express your own personality
in something tangible, and to be
encouraged to do so. Do understand me,
Auntie and the rest; it isn’t that I want
to shirk, but I do want to specialize on
what I do best! I’ll wash dishes if it’s
ever necessary, but why must I wish a
whole pantry on myself when either Burt
or I could pay our proportionate share of
a hotel dish-washer, or butler, or whatever
is needed?”

At the studio it was much easier.

“Some time in the early fall,” Anne
told her callers, who arrived by two’s,
three’s and four’s, as the news began to
circulate among her friends.

“No, I won’t keep this,” with a jerk of
her thumb towards the big, bare room
which had been hers since she left Aunt
Milly and the little home town. “There’s
a room at the top of the Kensington I can
have, with a light as good as this, and[266]
that settles the last problem. I’d hate
to have to go outdoors for meals, when
I’m working.”

“Nan Gilbert!” exclaimed her dearest
friend. “You have the best luck! You
can do good work, and get good pay for
it, and be happy all by yourself; and now
you’re going to be happier, with a husband
who’ll let you live your own life; you’ll
be absolutely free, not even a percolator
to bother with, nothing to take your mind
from your own creative work, free to
express your own personality!”

“Mercy,” said Anne, closing the door
upon this last caller. “If I don’t set the
North River, at least, on fire, pretty soon,
they’ll all call me a slacker.”

She hung her card, “Engaged,” upon
the door leading into the hall (some one
had scrawled “Best Wishes” underneath
the printed word), and proceeded to get
her dinner in a thoughtful frame of mind.
The tiny kitchenette boasted ice-box,
fireless, and a modest collection of electric
cooking appliances; in a half-hour Anne
had evolved a cream soup, a bit of steak,
nearly cubical in proportions, slice of
graham bread, a salad of lettuce and
tomato with skilfully tossed dressing, a
muffin split ready to toast, with the jam
and spreader for it, and coffee was dripping
into the very latest model of coffee-pots.
Anne had never neglected her
country appetite, and was a living refutation
of the idea that neatness and art
may not dwell together. She moved
quietly and with a speed which had
nothing of haste; her mind was busy
with a magazine cover for December, she
believed she’d begin studying camels.

After dinner came Burt Winchester, a
steady-voiced, olive-skinned young man,
in pleasant contrast to Anne’s vivacious
fairness, and together they journeyed uptown
and then west to the Kensington,
for a final decision upon the one vacant
apartment. The rooms were of fair size,
they were all light, and the agent had at
least half a yard of applicants upon a
printed slip in his pocket.

Burt studied the apartment not at all,
but his fiancée with quiet amusement.
He was much in love with Anne, but he
understood her better than she had yet
discovered.

“I don’t think we’ll ever find anything
better,” she was saying to him.
“Perhaps he’d have it redecorated for us,
with a long lease—”

The agent coughed discreetly. “The
leases are for one year, with privilege of
renewal,” he said to Burt. “It has just
been redecorated; is there anything
needed?”

“It would all be lovely, if one liked
blue,” murmured Anne. “Just the thing
for some girl, but not for me, all that pale
blue and silver, it doesn’t look a bit like
either of us, Burt. I had worked out the
most stunning scheme, cream and black,
with a touch of Kelly green—”

Another cough, somewhat louder, and
accompanied by an undisguised look of
sympathy for Burt. “The owner prefers
to decide the decorations, Madame,”
said the agent. “Tastes differ so, you
understand.”

“Please hold the suite for me until
tomorrow night,” said Burt, decisively.
“I suppose we’ll take it; if not, I’ll make
it right with you.”

“I should say, ‘tastes differ,'” laughed
Anne, tucking her arm into Burt’s, as they
began the long walk down-town. “Do
you know, Aunt Milly and the girls
thought, of course, we’d keep house, and
Dan and George are going to pick out
girls that will keep house, I saw it in
their eyes. You—you’re going to be
satisfied, Burt?”

“I think so,” answered Burt, judiciously,
and then with a change of tone,
“Nan, you precious goose, you’ve always
told me you were not domestic.”

“And you’ve always said you were no
more domestic than I was,” finished
Anne, happily. She entirely missed the
quizzical expression of the brown eyes
above her. “Nuff said.—Are we going
to Branton tomorrow, Burt, with the
crowd? Can you take the day?”

Anne’s “crowd,” the half-dozen good[267]
friends among the many acquaintances
she had formed in the city, were invited
for a day in the country. She and Burt
now talked it over, agreeing to meet in
time to take the nine-thirty train, with
the others.

But at nine, next morning, Burt had
not appeared at the studio; instead, Miss
Gilbert had a telephone message that
Mr. Winchester was delayed, but would
call as soon as possible. It was unlike
Burt, but Anne, sensibly, supposed that
business had intervened, and, removing
her hat, was glad to remember that she
had not definitely accepted the invitation
when it was given. The “crowd” were
sure enough of each other and of themselves
to appear casual: Burt and she
could take a later train, and have just as
warm a welcome.

At nine-thirty Burt appeared, explaining
briefly, “Best I could do. There’s a
train in twenty minutes, we’ll catch it if
we hurry.”

Anne hurried, which proved to be
unnecessary, as the train seemed late in
starting; during the trip there was little
conversation, as Anne was tactful, and
Burt preoccupied.

“Branton!” called the conductor, at
least it sounded like Branton, Burt came
out of his revery with a start, and Anne
followed him down the aisle. They
stood a moment upon the platform of the
quiet little station and watched the train
pull out; as they turned back into what
seemed the principal street, Anne craned
her neck to look around an inconvenient
truck piled with baggage, and made out
the sign, Byrnton.

“Oh, Burt, what were we thinking of?”
she exclaimed. “This isn’t the right
place at all! We were to take the road
up past a brick church—and there isn’t
any here—this is Byrnton, and we
wanted Branton. What shall we do—why
don’t you say something?”

“Fudge!” said Burt, soberly, but in his
eyes the dancing light he reserved for
Anne. “I’ll ask the ticket-agent.”

He came out of the station, smiling.
“This isn’t the Branton line at all, but a
short branch west of it,” he informed her.
“We took the wrong train, but he says lots
of people make the same mistake, and
they are going to change one name or the
other, eventually. I am to blame, Nan,
for I know this place, Byrnton; I have,
or used to have, an Aunt Susan here,
somewhere—shall we look her up? We
have nearly three hours to kill. It will
be afternoon before we can get to Branton—and
Aunt Susan will give us
nourishment, at least, if she’s home.”

“Very well,” Anne assented. If Burt’s
business absorbed him like this, she must
learn to take it philosophically.

“What a pretty place, Burt! Do see
those wonderful elms!”

Byrnton proved to be an old-fashioned
village, which had had the good fortune
to be remodelled without being modernized.
Along the main street many of the
houses were square, prim little boxes, with
front yards bright with sweet williams,
marigolds, and candytuft; these had an
iron fence around the garden, and, invariably,
shutters at the front door. An
occasional house stood flush with the
brick or flagged sidewalk; in that case
there were snowy curtains at the window,
and a glimpse of hollyhocks at the back.
The newer houses could be distinguished
by the wide, open spaces around them;
the late comers had not planned their
homes to command the village street, and
neighbors, as an older generation had
done, but these twentieth century models
did not begin until one had left the little
railway station well behind.

“What a homely, homey place,” said
Anne, noting everything with the eye of
an artist. “I don’t see how you could
forget it, if you have an aunt living here.”

“That’s the question,” answered Burt.
“Have I an aunt living here? She may
be in California; however, in that case,
the key will be under the mat.”

Anne continued to look about her, with
sparkling eyes. “If Aunt Milly had
lived in a place like this, I’d be there
yet,” she told him. “The factories[268]
spoiled the place for me, but they made
business good for Uncle Andy and the
boys, and Aunt Milly likes the bustle,
she’d think this was too quiet.—Isn’t it
queer how people manage to get what
they want—in time?”

“It is, indeed,” smiled Burt. “There,
Nan, that low white cottage at the very
end, the last before you come to open
fields. That’s Aunt Susan’s.”

They quickened their pace; Anne was
conscious of an intense wish that Aunt
Susan might be home. She wanted to
see the inside of the white house, bungalow,
it might almost be called, if one
did not associate bungalows with stucco
or stained shingles. This cottage was of
white wood, with the regulation green
blinds. There was an outside chimney
of red bricks; a pathway of red bricks in
the old herringbone pattern led up to the
front door, with its shining brass knocker.
A row of white foxgloves stood sentinel
before the front of the house, on each side
the entrance, their pointed spires coming
well above the window-sills; before them
the dark foliage of perennial lupins, tossing
up a white spray of flowers, and then
it seemed as if every old-fashioned flower
of white, or with a white variety, ran
riot down to a border of sweet alyssum.
Above all the fragrance came the unmistakable
sweetness of mignonette.

“Oh, Burt!” called Anne, “I do hope
she’s home. What a woman she must
be, I can guess some things about her,
just from the outside of her house. I
hope she’ll show me the inside of it.”

Burt shook his head. “She’d have
seen us before this and been out here,”
he suggested. “Come ’round to the
back.”

The back of the premises proved no
less fascinating; there was the neatest of
clothes-yards, a vegetable garden, and a
small garage, after which Anne regarded
the silent cottage with wistful eyes.

“Those beautiful, old-fashioned flowers,
no petunias but the white frilled kind,—she’s
an artist—and has the wash
done at home,” she enumerated, “and
runs her automobile herself, I am sure,
for she’s a practical person as well; if she
were just a sentimental flower-lover, she’d
have had something or other climbing up
the house, and it spoils the woodwork.”

“It’s safe to say Aunt Susan’s in California,”
said Burt, disregarding this.
“No joke, Nan, she has a married
daughter who has been trying to get her
out there for years, and Aunt Susan’s
always threatening to go. Never thought
she would, but we can soon find out; I
know who’ll have the key.”

He left Anne and walked back to the
house just passed, and presently reappeared
with the key. “Here you are.
Aunt Susan left it with Mrs. Brown, who
is to look after the place, and to use her
judgment about letting people in. Aunt
Susan has only been gone two days, she
went hurriedly at the last, and Mrs.
Brown is to close the house for her, but
she hasn’t got ’round to it yet. Lucky
for us, there’ll be everything we need for
lunch; I brought eggs—see?”

Laughing like a boy. Burt unlocked the
back door, and then produced four eggs,
from as many pockets. He laid them
carefully down upon the kitchen table.

“Now, Nan, we can use anything in
the kitchen or pantry, and Mrs. Brown
has a blueberry pie in the oven which
she’ll give us, she’ll bring it over when
it’s done.—Want to go over the house?—Give
you my word it’s all right, in fact
Aunt Susan told Mrs. Brown she wished
she could rent it, as is, if she only knew
somebody who would love it—that was
her word. You can love it until the
afternoon train, can’t you?”

If Anne heard, she made no reply, she
was exploring.

Downstairs, a wide hall occupied a
central third of the house; it was well
lighted by the windows each side the
front door, and by double doors of glass,
which opened on to the back porch. On
one side the hall were kitchen and pantry,
nearly equal in size, and glistening with
white paint, aluminum, and blue and
white porcelain. With a hasty glance[269]
over these treasures, to which she was
coming back, Anne stepped out into the
hall again, and around to the front of the
winding staircase, and entered what she
knew at once for the “owner’s bedroom.”
There were windows on two sides, as this
was a front room, and each broad sill
bore its own pot of ferns. The furniture
here was all old-fashioned, of some dark
wood that had been rubbed to a satin
finish, the floor was of plain surface, with
braided mats, and a blue and white
counterpane provided the only bit of
drapery in the room. Anne’s bright
head nodded with satisfaction. Here
was character; to win Aunt Susan’s
respect would be no light task, her personal
and intimate belongings showed an
austere sense of values and an almost
surgical cleanliness. Yet Aunt Susan
could not be a martinet; her hall, furnished
for other people, showed due
regard for their comfort; the living room,
which took the entire western side of the
cottage, bore unmistakable signs of much
occupancy, with wide and varied interests.
A set of dark shelves, at the lower end,
held china, and suggested that one might
also eat at the refectory table, which was
furnished as a desk and held a few books,
many writing materials, and a foreign-looking
lamp. There was also a piano,
well littered with music, a sewing bag
thrown down upon a cretonned window
seat, and the generous fireplace was
flanked by two huge baskets, one heaped
with magazines, the other a perfectly
round mound of yellow fur, which suddenly
took form and life as a yellow
tabby cat fastened hopeful topaz eyes
upon them, blinked away a brief disappointment,
and then yawned with ennui.

“His missie left him all alone,” said
Anne, bending to stroke the smooth head.
“What’s upstairs, Burt?”

“Go and look, I’ll take your place with
the Admiral until you come back,”
offered Burt, and at sound of his name
the yellow cat jumped out and began
rubbing against a convenient table leg.
Anne found them in the same relative
positions when she returned from her
inspection of the upper floor.

“Your Aunt Susan must use it for
sewing,” she told Burt, dreamily. “With
that big skylight—it could be a studio,
couldn’t it?”

“It is,” Burt informed her. “Aunt
Susan is an artist—with her needle.
She gives, or gave, dressmaking lessons,
in her idle moments. She gave up dressmaking,
when she bought this house and
settled here, but now she teaches the
daughters of her old customers, they come
out in automobiles every Wednesday,
in winter. Saturday afternoons she has
some of the young girls in the village, here,—without
price—and without taste,
too, some of them! And Nan, I hate to
mention it, but—Aunt Susan is a pretty
good cook, too!”

“Feed the brute!” quoted Nan, with a
gay laugh. “Will the Admiral drink
condensed milk?”

Mrs. Brown came over with her blueberry
pie as Burt was summoned to
luncheon. She surveyed the table, which
Nan had laid in the kitchen, and then the
Admiral, who was making his toilette in
a thorough manner that suggested several
courses, with outspoken approval.

“My, I wish Susan Winchester could
pop in this minute. You found the prepared
flour, and all—baked ’em on the
griddle! Wa’n’t that cute! I never did
see an omelet like that except from Susan
Winchester’s own hands, and she learned
from a Frenchwoman she used to sew
with. Some folks can pick up every
useful trick they see.”

Turning to Burt, she continued:

“With all the new fangle-dangles of
these days, women voting and all, you’re
a lucky boy to have found an old-fashioned
girl!”

“I know it,” said Burt, brazenly, but
he did not meet Anne’s astonished eyes.
“My girl has learned the best of the new
accomplishments, without losing what
was worth keeping of the old.”

Anne’s judgment told her it was a good
luncheon—no better than she served
herself at home, though. She stared at
her own slim, capable fingers. Was she
domestic, after all?

“We’ve been looking at apartments in
the city,” Burt went on—”apartments
in a hotel, you know.—Try the omelet,
Mrs. Brown—Nan’s don’t fall flat as
soon as other omelets do.—But we
haven’t found what really appeals to us.”

“I should think not,” declared Mrs.
Brown, vigorously. “I always say a
person hasn’t a spark of originality that
will go and live in a coop just like hundreds
of others, all cut to the same
pattern. Look at your Aunt Susan, now.
This house belonged to old Joe Potter,
he built it less’n ten years ago an Mis’
Potter she had it the way she wanted it,
and that was like the house she lived in
when she was a girl, little, tucked-up
rooms, air-tight stoves, a tidy on every
chair, and she made portières out of
paper beads that tickled ’em both silly—yes,
and tickled everybody in the ear that
went through ’em, though that wan’t
what I meant to say. When she died,
Joe wouldn’t live here, said he wouldn’t
be so homesick for Julia in another house,
this one was full of her. So, your Aunt
Susan bought it, and what did she do?

“She knocked out partitions, took
down fire-boards, threw out a good parlor
set and lugged in tables and chairs from
all over, put big panes of glass where
there was little ones—in some places,
she did, and only the good angels and
Susan Winchester knows why she didn’t
change ’em all, they’re terrible mean to
wash—made the front hall into a setting
room and the parlor into a bedroom, got
two bathrooms and no dining room—well,
to make a long story short, this
house is now Susan Winchester. Anybody
that knows Susan would know it was
her house if they see it in China.

“Did you learn to keep house with your
mother?”

The transition was so abrupt that Anne
started. “I—my aunt brought me up—and
nine cousins,” she answered. “My
aunt is as unlike Burt’s as you can imagine,
but just as dear and good. She had
a big family, and there was never time
enough to have her home as she wanted
it—so she thought—and I thought so,
too—but yet—Aunt Milly’s home was
always full of happy children, and, perhaps,
that’s what she really wanted, more
than dainty furnishings or a spotless
kitchen.”

“Folks, mostly, get what they want,
even if they don’t know it,” confirmed
Mrs. Brown. “Look at the Admiral,
here. He don’t want to come over and
live with me, same as Susan meant he
should. He wants to stay right in his
own home, and have his meals and petting
same as usual, and here you come along
today and give them to him. Trouble is,
folks don’t always know what it is they
want.”

When Mrs. Brown went back to her
own dinner, she left Anne with something
to think about. Washing the dishes in
Aunt Susan’s white sink, which was fitted
to that very purpose, drying them upon a
rack which held every dish apart from its
neighbors, and, finally, polishing the
quaintly shaped pieces upon Aunt Susan’s
checked towel, which remained dry and
spotless; opening every drawer and cupboard
to see that all was left in the dainty
order she had found there, Anne had a
clear vision of the blue and silver furnishings
at the Kensington. What had she
told Burt: “It doesn’t look like either of
us”?—while Aunt Susan’s home—

“Burt,” she called, “come and answer
this question. Did you come to Byrnton
instead of Branton on purpose?”

“What’s this?” said Burt. “Cross-examination?”

“It’s an examination, surely, but I
won’t be cross,” replied Anne, with a rare
dimple. “You must answer my question
truly.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” said Burt. “I
did, Your Honor.”

“Did you know your Aunt Susan
wouldn’t be home?”

“Our Aunt Susan,” corrected Burt.—”No,
Your Honor—that is, I thought—”

“You knew she was going to California?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“This summer?”

“I didn’t know exactly when—honestly,
Nan, I did want you to meet her.”

“Why?”‘

“I knew you’d like the way she keeps
house. I didn’t realize that the house
could speak for itself, without her.—You
do like it, Nan?”

“I don’t have to answer questions,
because I’m the Judge,” Nan told him.
“I’ll ask you one more. Do you want me
to ask you to take this cottage, for us, in
the fall, and stay in it until Aunt Susan
comes back?”

“Not unless Your Honor pleases.”

“Case dismissed, for lack of evidence,”
said Nan.—”Burt, could we live here?”

“We could. I’ll admit it’s what I’d
like, if you do. The difference in rents
would buy gasoline. Could you work
here, and keep house, too?”

“I can if I’m smart,” answered Nan,
soberly. “I wonder if I’m smart.”

“Dear,” said Burt. “What have you
done since you came to New York but
work and keep house, too, in less convenient
quarters than this, and with no
one to help you—no good husband
like me—?”

“That’s so!” she turned a radiant face
upon him.

“If we like, we can begin another home,
of our very own, when Aunt Susan wants
hers back,” Burt smiled quizzically.
“No one else’s house would suit you for
always, Nan. Ask me why.”

“Why?”

“Because,” said Burt in triumph,
“personality, like the measles, will out!”

[270]

AMERICAN COOKERY

FORMERLY THE

BOSTON COOKING-SCHOOL
MAGAZINE

The date stamped on the wrapper is the date
on which your subscription expires; it is, also, an
acknowledgment that a subscription, or a renewal
of the same, has been received.

Please renew on receipt of the colored blank
enclosed for this purpose.

In sending notice to renew a subscription or
change of address, please give the old address
as well as the new.

In referring to an original entry, we must know
the name as it was formerly given, together with
the Post-office, County, State, Post-office Box,
or Street Number.

LOVE’S DAY

LIMITATION OF ARMAMENTS

“On Armistice Day, November 11, at
the hour when the twenty-four men
representing the six participating nations
first face each other across the council
table, a nation-wide demonstration will
be under way in the United States.
Organized labor announces that in every
town and city the workers will join with
other citizens in mass-meetings and
parades and that the keynote of Armistice
Day should be, ‘It is time to disarm.’
It will help in impressing upon our own
government and upon other governments
that the people are weary of war-made
tax burdens; that they are deeply in
earnest in their demands that these burdens
be removed. It will strengthen the
purpose of the four men who are to represent
America to know that they have the
support of the workers and the voters.
The action of organized labor will help in
liberating and directing these ‘moral
forces’; but Labor cannot do it alone.
There are others of these ‘forces’ that
cannot be tapped or directed by Labor,
and these must come into action. The
time is drawing nigh for their mobilization.”

“Without the crowding, persistent,
fighting force of the masses the crusade
cannot be won. This is the people’s
salvation and it is, therefore, the people’s
fight. It is now up to the people of this
country to make their wishes known and
their opinions felt. It should be constantly
in mind that, without the mobilized
moral force of those upon whom these
crushing burdens are now falling, there
is little hope that the load will ever be
lifted. If it is not lifted, no one can
prophesy what lies beyond. There can
be no relief from taxes, no relief from
expenditures and no relief from war,
except through disarmament.”

“One more war, fully prepared for,
prepared for with all the diabolical perversions
of science, will reduce Europe
and America to what Russia is today.”

Certainly we believe in the closest
limitation of armament. In this matter[271]
we would go to the extreme limit. We
are tired of militarism and tired of war
and the rumors of war. While we need
and desire a merchant marine, we have
no use for fighting ships or submarines.
Years ago we began to dream that
America would never engage in another
war, but we have witnessed the most
horrid conflict that ever devastated the
earth. How can any one ever want war
again? The nation that makes an aggressive
attack on another should be regarded
as an outlaw and treated as such by
the rest of the world. Dissensions are
sure to arise, but these can be settled
by conference and agreement or by
arbitration.

Prosperity is dependent on peace. No
other world-wide saving can equal that
which can be gained through limitation
of armament. The wealth of the world
consists of just what the world produces.
The one master word of the day is Production.
People are not producing enough
to satisfy all their wants; there is not
stuff enough to go round. As a nation we
need less of politics and more of production.
Our main contention should be a
moral appeal for unity in the industrial
world. “The field for constructive, imaginative,
and creative minds is the field of
commerce.”

A PIONEER IN HOME ECONOMICS

From a recent report by Mr. Eugene
Davenport, vice-president of the University
of Illinois, we draw the following:

Miss Isabel Bevier retired this year
from her work in Home Economics at the
University of Illinois. She entered the
service of the University in 1900. During
the twenty-one years of its existence,
Professor Bevier has given herself unsparingly
to the development and conduct,
day by day, of the department of Home
Economics. The field was almost entirely
new, as a university subject. The
courses have been outlined and conducted
with a double purpose in mind.
First, the presenting of home economics
as a part of a liberal education; and second,
the development of courses leading
to a profession in teaching, dietetics, and
cafeteria management.

The first graduating class in 1903 numbered
three. The number rapidly increased,
reaching ninety-four in 1918.
The total number of students coming
under the instruction of the staff of
teachers for the last twenty-one years is
approximately 5,000.

If efforts are to be judged by their
results, whether in respect to alumnæ or
the present registration of undergraduate
students, it is not too much to say that
the purposes of this department have
been in the main accomplished, by which
is meant that the department has trained
hundreds of competent executives and
teachers without such exclusive attention
to the professional as to break the contact
with that great mass of university women
who are to become, not teachers or professionals
of any kind, but the heads of
American homes. To achieve this double
purpose has been the great ambition of
the department, in which it has eminently
succeeded.

It is not too much to say that at present,
no department of the university enjoys
more of the confidence and respect of
the institution than does the department
of Home Economics.

At the Recognition Service in honor of
Professor Bevier, in May, 1921, the
alumnæ presented the University with
an excellent portrait of Miss Bevier.

“FEEDING-THE-FAMILY” CLUB

Women are waking up to the fact
that upon their shoulders rests
the responsibility of having a healthier
nation. Too many people are dying of
avoidable diseases. Rich foods have
taken more toll of life than war and
pestilence, dietitions tell us. More and
more stress is being placed upon diet—not
for the sick only, but for those in
good health, that they may preserve it.
By diet we mean the proper combinations
of foods and the scientific uses of
vitamines, starches, proteins and acids.[272]
What we need is more than a reading
acquaintance with those subjects.

A certain group of women in Long
Beach, Calif., have decided that the
acquisition of knowledge concerning food
properties is the only way to better living
for their families. They have grouped
together under the name of the “Feeding-the-Family”
Club, and, under the leadership
of the head of the department of
domestic science of the public schools,
they meet on Wednesday evening each
week for two hours to learn how to prepare
healthful, nourishing meals for the
average family. There are sixteen women
in the group, representing fifty-six persons,
most of whom are children in school.
Think what it means to those children to
have mothers who are vitally interested
in seeing them grow up to be strong,
virile men and women. “Knowledge makes
Power,” aye, the knowledge of the mothers
of today makes for the powerful
citizens of tomorrow.

DO YOUR OWN WORK AND SAVE
MONEY

If you are one of the people who are
“sick unto death” of these thrift
articles and are utterly weary of reading
how to clean your porcelain gas-stove
and keep your electric washer in repair.

The magazines are so full of helpful
hints to the $5,000 and upwards class,
that it seems as though a mere person like
myself might inquire, “How about poor
us? Won’t somebody write something
for us? How can we, who make up most
of the world, live within our incomes?”

As nobody has responded as yet, I am
going to tell how we manage and, possibly,
some one else may be helped thereby.

Six years ago, when my husband and I
awoke from our honeymoon trance, we
found ourselves in California, strangers
in a lone land, penniless and jobless.
My husband was blessed with neither
college education nor profession, but we
were both young and undaunted—therefore
we pulled through. We rented
an apartment, furnished, at $15 per
month and buckled in. I might say that
the rent didn’t have to be paid in advance
or we wouldn’t have moved in. My soul
mate—otherwise husband—worked as
a truckman, a taxi driver, a cement lamp-post
worker, a chauffeur, a night watchman,
a salesman, a cook and a dish-washer.
In five years we moved twenty
different times, an average of once every
three months (not because we wished to
skip our rent, but because my husband
found jobs in so many different parts of
the city).

The end of the sixth year has found
us located, at last. We get $150 per
month and live on that alone. We are
buying our own home, a flivver stands in
the garage, our house is nicely furnished
(a good deal of the furniture we have
made ourselves) and we dress and live
respectably. I do all my own cooking,
washing, ironing, sewing, cleaning, baking
and gardening, with a little writing
thrown in as a spare-time occupation.
No electric machine, $300 gas stove,
$700 bedroom set, nor blue-goose
stenciled kitchen yet graces our home.
No little tea-wagon runs our food to the
table. We don’t lay by 35 cents in one
envelope, $1.25 for electricity in another,
nor 63 cents per week for meat in another.
We merely save a small portion
each month. First, toward our home and
the rest we spend or save as we see fit.
Our twenty chickens help out a little in
meat and eggs, but one whole year passed
by before we bought linoleum for kitchen
or bath-room. At present we are working
on a $7 second-hand writing desk
with varnish remover and putty knife
and in the end we shall have a very
modern, pretty, little, fumed-oak desk for
one-seventh the cost of a new one.

So, Ladies, get in and do your own
work. Forget the servant problem and
the money question. Make things yourselves
and see how much fun there is in
Life. Don’t be afraid to soil your hands—cold
cream will fix them. Get as
much fun out of each day as possible.

[273]

SOME HOMELY THANKSGIVING VEGETABLES

Seasonable-and-Tested Recipes

By Janet M. Hill and Mary D. Chambers

In all recipes where flour is used, unless otherwise stated, the flour is measured after sifting
once. Where flour is measured by cups, the cup is filled with a spoon, and a level cupful is
meant. A tablespoonful or a teaspoonful of any designated material is a LEVEL spoonful. In flour
mixtures where yeast is called for, use bread flour; in all other flour mixtures, use cake or pastry flour.

Potage Parmentier

Cook the well-washed, white stalks
of two or three leeks, sliced lengthwise,
in two tablespoonfuls of fat in
a saucepan, and allow to remain over the fire
for five or six minutes, or until slightly
colored. Add four large potatoes, pared
and sliced, one quart of cold water, and two
teaspoonfuls of salt, cover, and cook for
twenty minutes after the water boils.
Strain out the potatoes and leeks and
press through a colander. Thicken the
water by adding one-fourth a cup of flour,
blended with two tablespoonfuls of butter
or a substitute; stir until it has boiled
for one minute; add one-half a teaspoonful
of white pepper, stir into it the potato
purée, and let the whole come to a boil.
Pour into the tureen, and add one-half a
cup of rich cream, a cup of well-browned
croûtons, and a few chervil leaves, or the
green leaves of cress or any preferred
herb. The addition of the half-cup of
rich cream is essential to the soup “parmentier.”

Potato-and-Peanut Sausages

Mix one cup of roasted and fine-ground
peanuts with one cup and one-half
of highly seasoned mashed potatoes.
Add one beaten egg, and form the mixture
into small sausage-shaped rolls, rolling
each one in flour. Roll on a hot pan,
greased with bacon fat, or bake in a very
hot oven, until the outside of the sausages
is lightly browned. Pile in the center of
a dish, and garnish with curls of toasted
bacon, placed on a border of shredded
lettuce.

Roast Turkey

Clean, stuff and truss a twelve-pound
turkey, that, when cooked, may rest on
the wings level on the platter, the drumsticks
close to the body. Rub all over
with salt and dredge with flour. Cover
the breast with thin slices of salt pork.[274]
Set on a rack in a baking-pan (a “double
roaster” gives best results). Turn often,
at first, to sear over and brown evenly.
For the first half hour the oven should be
hot, then lower the heat and finish the
cooking in an oven in which the fat in the
pan will not burn. Cook until the joints
are easily separated. It will require
three hours and a half. Add no water or
broth to the pan during cooking. For
basting use the fat that comes from the
turkey during cooking.

Turkey Stuffing

Add one teaspoonful of salt, one-fourth
a teaspoonful of pepper and one
tablespoonful and one-half of poultry
seasoning to three cups of cracker crumbs;
mix thoroughly and add three-fourths a
cup of melted butter.

ROAST TURKEY

Garnish the Roast Turkey with
Stuffed Onions

Parboil eight choice onions about one
hour. Remove from the water and cut
out a circular piece from the top of each
to form cups. Chop, fine, the pieces of
onion; add an equal measure of cold,
cooked ham, salt and pepper to season,
one-fourth a cup, each, of fine, soft
crumbs and melted butter and mix thoroughly.
Season the inside of the cups
with salt, then stuff with the prepared
mixture. Bake slowly about half an
hour, basting with melted butter. Serve
decorated with celery tips.

Oyster-and-Onion Purée

Steam one pound of white onions, and
when tender sift through a colander.
Cook one quart of oysters in their liquor
until the gills separate; strain, and chop
the oysters in a chopping bowl. Return
the liquor to the saucepan, and cook with
three tablespoonfuls of flour and three
tablespoonfuls of softened butter, rubbed
together, stirring constantly until well
thickened and smooth. Season with one
teaspoonful and one-half of salt and one-half
a teaspoonful of pepper. Sift into
the onion-pulp one-fourth a cup of flour,
and stir until blended; add one-fourth a
teaspoonful of celery seed and one bayleaf,
and mix with the thickened oyster
liquor. Stir until the whole comes to a
boil and the purée is thick as porridge.
Add the chopped oysters and one pint of
thin cream, let heat through, and serve
with oysterettes, saltines or other plain
crackers.[275]

Salmon à la Creole

Clean and scale a small salmon, stuff
with one-half a loaf of stale bread moistened
with hot water, seasoned with one-fourth
a cup of butter, salt and pepper to
taste, and one-half a cup of capers. Mix
all well, and bind with one beaten egg.
Place the salmon on the rack of a baking-pan
in a very hot oven, cover with thin
slices of bacon, and let cook until done.
Serve on a bed of chopped fresh mushrooms,
cooked in a little bouillon, and
garnish the dish with small fresh tomatoes.

Brother Jonathan

Make a mush of yellow cornmeal, and
mould in cylindrical moulds, such as
baking powder boxes or brown bread
moulds. Let stand until next day, and
cut into slices. Arrange the slices on a
large porcelain pie-plate in pyramidal
form, sprinkling each layer with some
sharp, hard cheese, grated, and seasoned
with a very little red pepper. Sift
buttered crumbs freely over the whole;
brown in a hot oven, and serve as a
vegetable with fish, with sour grape jelly
melted and poured over it.

Plymouth Succotash

Boil, separately, one chicken and four
pounds of corned beef. The next day
remove meat and fat from both kettles
of liquid, combine liquids, season with
salt (if needed) and pepper; when boiling
add five quarts of hulled corn; remove
to slow fire and let simmer three hours.
Have ready three pints of New York pea
beans that have been soaked twelve
hours, boiled until soft and strained
through a sieve; add to soup (for thickening).
Boil one yellow turnip (or two
white turnips), and six potatoes; when
done add to succotash. This recipe
makes eight quarts.

PLYMOUTH SUCCOTASH

New England Salad

NEW ENGLAND SALAD

Dress flowerets of cold, cooked cauliflower
with oil, salt, pepper and vinegar.
From cold, cooked beets remove the top
and center portions to make beet cups.
Arrange the prepared cauliflower to fill
cups, pour over boiled salad dressing and
arrange a heart of celery in each filled
beet-cup.[276]

GUINEA CHICKENS

Guinea Chickens

Clean and truss two guinea chickens;
place on a bed of sliced, uncooked carrots,
potatoes and celery, arranged in the
bottom of a casserole—(a large bean-pot
serves as well). Sprinkle the chicks
with salt and pour over them melted
butter; set the cover in place. Bake
in a moderate oven one hour and one-quarter,
basting every fifteen minutes
with melted butter. Add no water to
the casserole.

Rib Roast of Beef with
Yorkshire Pudding

Place a rib roast of beef on a rack in a
dripping pan; dredge with flour and sear
over the outside in a hot oven, then add
salt and pepper and drippings and let
cook at a low temperature until done,
basting every ten minutes. Remove to
a platter and serve with Yorkshire
pudding.

Yorkshire Pudding

RIB ROAST WITH YORKSHIRE PUDDING

Sift together one cup and a half of
flour, and one-third a teaspoonful of
salt; gradually add one cup and one-half
of milk, so as to form a smooth
batter; then add three eggs, which have
been beaten until thick and light; turn
into a small, hot dripping pan, the inside
of which has been brushed over with
roast beef drippings; when well risen in
the pan, baste with the hot roast beef
drippings. Bake about twenty minutes.
Cut into squares and serve around the
roast.

Apple Mint Jelly for Roast Lamb

Cut the apples in quarters, removing
imperfections. Barely cover with boiling
water, put on a cover and let cook, undisturbed,
until soft throughout. Turn into
a bag to drain. For a quart of this apple
juice set one and one-half pounds of
sugar on shallow dishes in the oven to
heat. Set the juice over the fire with
the leaves from a bunch of mint; let
cook twenty minutes, then strain into a
clean saucepan. Heat to the boiling
point, add the hot sugar and let boil till
the syrup, when tested, jellies slightly on
a cold dish. Tint with green color-paste
very delicately. Have ready three to
five custard cups on a cloth in a pan of
boiling water. Let the glasses be filled
with the water; pour out the water and
turn in the jelly. When cooled a little
remove to table. (English recipe.)

Marinaded Cutlets

Cut a pound of the best end of neck of
mutton into cutlets, allowing two cutlets
for each bone, beat them with a cutlet bat[277]
and trim them neatly. Let them soak
for an hour in a marinade made by mixing
six tablespoonfuls of red wine vinegar,
one tablespoonful of olive oil, half a teaspoonful
of salt, six bruised peppercorns,
a minced onion, a sprig of thyme, and a
bayleaf. At the end of the hour drain
the cutlets, and dredge them with flour to
dry them. Brush over each one with
beaten egg, and roll it in bread-crumbs;
repeat the egging and breadcrumbing a
second time, and, if possible, leave them
for an hour for the crumbs to dry on.
Half fill a deep pan with frying-fat, and
when it is heated, so as to give off a pale
blue vapor, place the cutlets carefully in
the pan, and when they float on top of the
fat and are of a rich brown color, they are
sufficiently cooked, and must be taken
from the fat and drained on kitchen paper
before being served en couronne, or on a
mound of mashed potatoes, green peas,
French beans, or Brussels sprouts.

Veal cutlets, fillets of beef, fillets of
white fish, or cutlets of cod or hake, are
excellent when prepared by the same
method. (English recipe.)

Thanksgiving Corn Cake

Sift together two cups of corn meal, two
cups of white flour, four heaping teaspoonfuls
of baking powder, one level
teaspoonful of soda, one teaspoonful of
salt, and one-half a cup of sugar. Add
one cup of sour milk (gradually), three-fourths
cup of sour cream, four eggs and
one-third a cup of melted butter.

THANKSGIVING CORN CAKE

Thanksgiving Pudding

Beat the yolks of four eggs; add one
pint of soft bread crumbs, one cup of
sugar, the grated rind of a lemon, one
teaspoonful of salt, and one cup of
large table raisins from which the seeds
have been removed; mix all together
thoroughly, then add one quart of rich
milk. Bake in a very moderate oven
until firm in the center. When the
pudding has cooled somewhat, beat the
whites of four eggs dry; beat in half a
cup of sugar and spread or pipe the
meringue over the pudding; dredge with
granulated sugar and let cook in a very
moderate oven about fifteen minutes;
the oven should be of such heat that the
meringue does not color until the last
few minutes of cooking.[278]

Coffee Fruit Punch

Add one-half a cup of fine-ground
coffee to one cup of cold water, bring very
slowly to a boil, and let simmer for ten
minutes. Strain, allow grounds to settle,
decant, and add one cup of sugar. Mix
one-half a cup of sifted strawberry preserve
with the juice of two lemons, the
juice of three oranges and the grated rind
of one, and half a cup of pineapple juice.
Let the whole stand together for half an
hour; then strain, add the coffee, a quart
or more of Vichy, or any preferred sparkling
water, and serve in tall glasses filled
one-third full with shaved ice; garnish
each with a thin strip of candied angelica.

SWEET CIDER FRAPPÉ

Sweet Cider Frappé

Make a syrup by boiling one cup of
sugar and two cups of water fifteen
minutes; add one quart of sweet cider
and one-half a cup of lemon juice; when
cool freeze—using equal parts of ice and
salt. Serve with roast turkey or roast
pork.

Fig-and-Cranberry Pie

Chop one-half a pound of figs and cook
until tender in a pint of water. Add a
pint of cranberries, and cook until they
pop. Mix one cup of sugar with four
tablespoonfuls of flour and stir into the
fig-and-cranberry mixture; let boil, remove
from fire, and stir in two tablespoonfuls
of butter and the juice of one-half
a lemon. Put into a pastry shell,
arrange strips of paste in a basket pattern
over the top, and bake until these are
browned.

Dry Deviled Parsnips

Wash and scrape—not pare—three
large parsnips; cut in halves, lengthwise,
and place, cut side uppermost, on the
grate of a rather hot oven to bake for
thirty to forty minutes, or until soft and
lightly browned. Soften one-half a cup
of butter, without melting it, and rub
into it the following mixture: Two teaspoonfuls
of salt, four tablespoonfuls of
dry mustard, one-half a teaspoonful of
cayenne, one teaspoonful of white pepper,
and flour enough to stiffen the paste.
When the parsnips are cooked make four
slanting cuts in each of the halves, and
fill each with as much of the paste as it
will hold. Spread over the flat side with
the remainder of the paste, arrange on the
serving dish, sift fine buttered crumbs
over them, and place under the gas flame,
or on the upper rack of an oven until
crumbs are brown.

King’s Pudding
With Apple-Jelly Sauce

Soak, over-night, one-half a cup of
well-washed rice, and cook in one pint of[279]
milk in double boiler until very tender.
Mix this with three cups of apple sauce,
well-sweetened and flavored with cinnamon.
Add the beaten yolks of two eggs,
one ounce, each, of candied citron and
orange peel, very fine-chopped, and one-half
a cup of raisins. Add, the last thing,
the whites of the eggs, beaten to the
stiffest possible froth. Line a deep dish
with a good, plain paste, pour in the
pudding, bake until both paste and pudding
top are brown, invert on serving
dish and pour the sauce over it.

Apple-Jelly Sauce

Beat one-half a cup of apple jelly until
it is like a smooth batter; gradually add
two tablespoonfuls of melted butter, the
juice of one lemon and one-half the
grated rind, and a few gratings of nutmeg.
Set into a saucepan of boiling water until
ready to use, then beat well and pour
over the pudding.

Cranberry Tart

CRANBERRY TART

Spread a round of paste over an
inverted pie plate, prick the paste with
a fork eight times. Bake to a delicate
brown. Remove the paste from the
plate, wash the plate and set the pastry
inside. When cold fill with a cold,
cooked cranberry filling and cover the
filling with a top pastry crust, made by
cutting paste to a paper pattern and
baking in a pan. Arrange tart just
before serving.

Cooked Cranberry Filling

Mix together three level tablespoonfuls
of cornstarch, three-fourths a teaspoonful
of salt and one cup and one-half of sugar;
pour on one cup and one-half of boiling
water and stir until boiling, then add one-third
a cup of molasses, two teaspoonfuls
of butter and three cups of cranberries,
chopped fine. Let simmer fifteen
minutes.

Pumpkin Fanchonettes

Mix together one cup and a half of dry,
sifted pumpkin, half a cup of sugar, two
eggs, two tablespoonfuls of molasses, one
tablespoonful of ginger, two tablespoonfuls
of melted butter, one teaspoonful of
cinnamon, one-fourth a teaspoonful of salt,
and one cup of rich milk. Pour into
small tins lined with pastry, and bake
about twenty-five minutes. Serve cold;
just before serving decorate with whipped
cream.

PUMPKIN FANCHONETTES

Pilgrim Cookies

PILGRIM COOKIES

Let soak overnight one cup of seedless[280]
raisins, then drain and dry on a cloth.
Cream one-third a cup of butter; beat
in one cup of brown sugar, one tablespoonful
of milk, and two eggs, beaten light.
Add the raisins, and one cup of flour,
sifted with one-half a teaspoonful, each,
of nutmeg and cinnamon and two teaspoonfuls
and one-half of baking powder. When
thoroughly mixed, add one-half a cup of
graham flour, unsifted, and one-half a cup
of bran, unsifted.

Pyramid Birthday Cake

Bake any good layer cake or other
simple cake mixture in one or two thin
sheets, in a large pan. When done cut
into as many graduated circles as the
child is years old. Ice each circle, top and
sides, with any good cake icing, either
white or tinted, and lay one above the
other with layers of jelly or preserves
between slices. Around each layer arrange
a decoration of fresh or candied
fruits of bright colors, glacéed nuts,
candied rose petals or violets, bits of
angelica, or any other effective decoration.
Let the cake stand on a handsomely
decorated dish, and small flags
be inserted in the topmost layer.

FRUIT AND MELONS

Stirred Brown Bread

Measure three cups of graham flour
into a large mixing-bowl; add one cup of
bran, and sift on to these one cup and
one-half of white flour, to which one and
one-fourth a teaspoonful of salt has been
added. Stir together until mixed. Dissolve
one teaspoonful of baking soda in
a tablespoonful of hot water, and add to
two cups of buttermilk. Melt two tablespoonfuls
of butter and one of any preferred
substitute, mix with one-half a
cup of molasses, stir into the buttermilk,
and add all to the dry ingredients, stirring
vigorously. Lastly, add one-half a
compressed yeast cake to the batter, and
stir again until the yeast is thoroughly
incorporated with the batter, which
should be very stiff. Place in a greased
bread pan, cover, set in a warm place
until batter has risen to top of pan or[281]
doubled in bulk. Bake one hour in an
oven with gradually increasing heat.
This bread keeps fresh for a long time,
and is particularly good sliced thin for
sandwiches.

Swedish Pancakes
With Aigre-Doux Sauce

Beat, until light, the yolks of six eggs;
add one-half a teaspoonful of salt, one
teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in one
tablespoonful of vinegar, then two cups
of sifted flour, alternately, with the
beaten whites of the eggs, and if necessary
add enough milk to make a thin batter.
Pour a small ladleful at a time on the
griddle; spread each cake, when cooked,
with raspberry jam, roll up like a jelly
roll, pile on a hot platter, dust over with
powdered sugar, and serve with each one
a spoonful of Aigre-Doux Sauce.

Aigre-Doux Sauce

Add to two cups of sour cream the
juice and fine-grated rind of one large
lemon. Stir in enough sugar just to
develop a sweet taste, one-half a cup or
more, and beat hard and long with a
Dover beater until the sauce is quite light.

Sautéed Cucumbers and Tomatoes

Pare four large cucumbers and cut in
quarter-inch slices; season by sprinkling
with salt and pepper, then dip in beaten
egg, and afterwards in fine, sifted crumbs.
Proceed in the same manner with two
firm tomatoes, removing the skin by
dipping first into boiling water, then into
cold, and rubbing the skin off. The
tomatoes should be cut in half-inch
slices. Heat a large spider until very
hot; add two or more tablespoonfuls of
dripping or other fat, and sauté in this,
first the cucumbers, then the tomatoes,
turning the slices when browned on one
side, and cooking until crisped. Serve
in a hot vegetable dish.

Skirt Steak, with Raisin Sauce

Make a rich stuffing by chopping
together three-fourths a pound of veal,
one-half a pound of ham, and an ounce of
beef suet or other fat. Add the grated
rind of a small lemon, and a teaspoonful
of dried, mixed herbs, or of kitchen
bouquet, two beaten eggs, a grate of
nutmeg, and one cup of cream. Cook all
together over hot water until mixture is
the consistency of custard; thicken
further with fine bread crumbs, and let
cool. Divide a two-pound skirt steak
into halves, crosswise, spread the stuffing
over both parts, roll up each one and tie.
Let steam for half an hour, then put into
a hot oven to finish cooking and brown.
Serve with Raisin Sauce.

Raisin Sauce for Skirt Steak

Add one-half a cup of seeded raisins
to one pint of cold water, set over fire,
bring slowly to a boil and let simmer,
gently, for fifteen minutes. Blend two
tablespoonfuls of flour with one-half a
teaspoonful of salt and one-fourth a
teaspoonful of white pepper, and stir this
into two scant tablespoonfuls of melted
butter or butter substitute; add to the
raisins and water, and let boil, keeping
stirred, for three minutes. Remove from
fire and add the juice of one-half a lemon
or two tablespoonfuls of vinegar.

Boudin Blanc

Cook a dozen small onions, sliced, in a
saucepan with one cup of sweet leaf-lard.
While cooking put through the meat
chopper one-half a pound, each, of fresh
pork and the dark and white meat of a
fowl or chicken. Add to saucepan containing
onions and lard, and stir in enough
fine bread crumbs to make the whole the
consistency of a soft dough. Add seasoning
of salt and pepper with a spoonful of
mixed dried herbs. Lastly, add one cup
of sweet cream and three well-beaten
eggs, and stir the whole until the eggs are
set. Stuff this into pig entrails, making
links six inches long. Keep stored in a
cool place, and cook like sausage. Or
the boudin may be packed into jars, and
sliced or cut into dice and sautéed when
cold.[282]

Seasonable Menus for Week in November

[283]

Menus for Thanksgiving Dinners

[284]

Concerning Breakfasts

By Alice E. Whitaker

A certain Englishman who breakfasted
with the Washington family
in 1794 wrote of the occasion: “Mrs.
Washington, herself, made tea and coffee
for us. On the table were two small
plates of sliced tongue and dry toast,
bread and butter, but no broiled fish, as
is the general custom.” However sparing
the mistress of Mt. Vernon might have
been, it was the usual custom in old times
to eat a hearty breakfast of meat or fish
and potato, hot biscuits, doughnuts,
griddle cakes and sometimes even pie was
added. A section of hot mince pie was
always considered a fitting ending to the
winter morning meal in New England,
at least.

When Charles Dickens was in the
United States, in 1842, he stopped at the
old Tremont house in Boston. In his
“American Notes,” which followed his
visit to this country, he wrote critically
of the American breakfast, as follows:
“And breakfast would have been no
breakfast unless the principal dish were a
deformed beefsteak with a great flat
bone in the center, swimming in hot
butter and sprinkled with the very blackest
of pepper.”

For a time my household included a
colored cook, who, according to local
custom, went to her own home every
night. Invariably before leaving she
came to me with the short and abrupt
question, “What’s for?” This experience
taught me the difficulty of planning
breakfasts off hand. More than one
beginner in housekeeping wonders whether
a light breakfast of little but a roll and
coffee is more healthful than one of
several courses. It is an old American
idea that luncheon or supper may be
light, dinner varied and heavier, but
breakfast must be wholesome and nourishing.
This is based on the belief that
it is natural for man and beast to wake up
in the morning with a desire for food and
unnatural to try to do the hardest work
of the day with but a pretence at eating.

About twenty years ago there was much
talk of the alleged healthfulness of going
without breakfast entirely. For a time
this plan was the object of much discussion
and experiment by medical and
scientific men and workers in general.
The late Edward Everett Hale was a
strong opponent to abstinence from
breakfast by brain workers, while those
who labored with hand and muscle looked
with little favor on the morning fast.
Finally the no-breakfast idea went the
way of most fads in food.

As a compromise between the extremes
of going without any breakfast, and the
old-time, over-hearty meal of several
courses, there came into fashion the
simple meal of fruit, cereal and eggs.
This is to be commended, if the egg, or
its substitute in food value, is not omitted.
Too often a sloppy cereal is washed down
rapidly with a cup of coffee and called
sufficient. Sometimes the ready-to-eat
cereal and the milk bottle left at the
kitchen door include the entire preparation
for the morning meal.

The adaptability of this quick breakfast,
and its ease of preparation, keep it
in favor, but filling the stomach with a[285]
cereal, from which some of its best elements
have been taken, means, for
women folks at home, placing the coffee
pot on the range to warm up the cup that
will stop that “gone” feeling so common
after a near-breakfast. The man at
work might once have found solace in a
glass of beer; now, perhaps, he smokes an
extra cigarette. It is well understood
that children grow listless and dull before
noon, when an insufficient breakfast is
eaten. One who has breakfast leisurely
at nine o’clock may be satisfied with a
roll and a cup of hot drink, but a commuter
with a trip ahead to office or shop,
and the farmer who must make an early
start in the day, cannot rely on light,
quickly digested food in the morning.
Their energy and working capacity will
slow down long before noon.

Objection is sometimes made to a good,
sustaining breakfast because of a distaste
for food in the morning. In such a case,
look to the quality or quantity of the
night meal; it may be too heavy or
indigestible.

Between a breakfast with warmed-over
meats, and one without meat, especially
if eggs are substituted, the choice should
be given to the latter. Twice-cooked
meats, however pleasing they may be to
the palate, are not easy to digest. They
serve merely as a way to use left-overs,
which good management will keep to the
minimum.

When selecting fruits for breakfast,
the fact must not be overlooked that the
starch of cereals and acid fruits, like a
sour orange, often disagree. When apples
are plentiful nothing is better than this
fruit when baked, but in cities the banana
frequently costs less and it stands at the
head of all fruits in food value. When
perfectly ripe it has about 12 per cent
of sugar, but as it is picked green, the
fruit sold in the markets is often but
partially ripe and is more easily assimilated,
if baked like the apple; it then
becomes a valuable breakfast food.

It is a common mistake in a meatless
breakfast to use too large a proportion of
cereal. While the standard cereal foods,
when dry, are from two-thirds to three-quarters
starch, with the balance made up
of a little protein, fat, water, fibre and a
trace of mineral matter, it should not be
forgotten that while cooking they absorb
several times their bulk of water, which
reduces the food value of the product.
Oatmeal and corn meal are best adapted
for winter use because they contain a
little more fat than wheat or rice, which
are suitable for summer diet.

Eggs are the most available substitute
for meat at breakfast and it is doubtful
economy to omit them, except in times
of extreme high prices. They are not
essential in all desserts and saving in
their use should begin at that point.
Eggs may be cooked in many ways so
that they need never become a monotonous
fare. All kinds of fish are an excellent
substitute for meat, and, as prepared
for the table, nearly equal beef and mutton,
in the amount of protein, which is the
element missed in a non-meat diet, unless
it be carefully planned.

Breakfasts without Meat

The following are adapted to different
seasons and the beverage may be selected
to suit the taste.

1. Strawberries, eggs baked in ramekins,
oatmeal muffins.

2. Fruit, cheese omelet, rice griddle
cakes.

3. Oranges, codfish balls, wheat muffins.

4. Oatmeal, baked bananas, scrambled
eggs, rice muffins.

5. Cereal, hashed browned potatoes,
date gems.

6. Oranges, soft boiled eggs, lyonnaise
potatoes, dry toast.

7. Cereal with dates, whole wheat
muffins, orange marmalade.

8. Stewed prunes, French omelet,
creamed potatoes, dry toast.

9. Grapefruit, broiled salt codfish,
baked potatoes, corn muffins.

10. Fresh pineapple, broiled fresh
mackerel, creamed potatoes, French bread.[286]

11. Sliced bananas, omelet with peas,
rusked bread.

Breakfasts with Meat

1. Fresh apple sauce, pork chops,
stewed potatoes, graham muffins.

2. Dried peaches, stewed, broiled
honeycomb tripe, escalloped potatoes,
reheated rolls.

3. Fruits, minced mutton, potato
puffs, rice griddle cakes, lemon syrup.

4. Baked apples, baked sausages,
hashed potatoes, corn cakes.

5. Baked rhubarb and raisins, ham
omelet, bread-crumb griddle cakes, caramel
syrup.

6. Melon or berries, broiled ham,
shirred eggs, creamed potatoes.

7. Oranges, broiled beef cakes, French
fried potatoes, toast.

8. Steamed rice, sliced tomatoes, bacon
and eggs, rye muffins.

9. Berries, broiled chicken with cream
sauce, fried potato cakes, muffins.

10. Cereal with syrup, scalded tomatoes
with melted butter, baked hash, dry toast.

11. Melon, veal cutlet, cream sauce,
baked potatoes, corn bread.

Some Recipes for Preparing Poultry

By Kurt Heppe

Fowls should be divided into four
classes, according to their uses. The
uses are controlled by the age of the fowl.

What is suitable for one dish is not
suitable for others. In fowls the age of
the bird controls the use to which it can
be put. This is something the caterer
and the housewife must remember.

A young bird can be distinguished from
an old one by the pliability of the tip of
the breastbone. When this tip bends
under pressure, then the bird is young.
If it is hard and unyielding, then it is old.

Very old birds are used for soup and for
fricassée.

Medium-aged birds are used for roasts.

Spring chickens are used for broilers
and for sautéed dishes.

Very young chicks are used for frying
in deep fat; for this purpose they are
dipped in a thin batter, or else in flour,
and in eggs mixed with milk and afterward
in breadcrumbs. These chicks,
and also spring chickens, are used for
casserole dishes and for cocottes (covered
earthen ware containers, in which the
fowls are roasted in the oven).

The liver of fowls is used in different
ways; it makes an excellent dish. It is
best when sautéed with black butter.
Some of the fine French ragouts consist
mostly of chicken livers.

With omelettes they make an incomparable
garnish.

In very high-class establishments the
wings and breast are often separated from
the carcass of the fowl and served in
manifold ways. Sometimes the entire
fowl is freed of bones, without destroying
the appearance of the bird. These latter
dishes are best adapted for casserole
service and for cold jellied offerings.

Capons are castrated male fowls. They
fatten readily and their flesh remains
juicy and tender, owing to the indolence
of the birds. The meat of animals is
tenderest when the animal is kept inactive.
For this reason stall-feeding is
often resorted to. When the animal has
no opportunity to exercise its muscles
the latter degenerate, and nourishment,
instead of being converted into energy,
is turned into fat. Range birds and
animals are naturally tough; this is
especially true of the muscles.

Large supply houses now regularly
basket their fowls for about two weeks
before putting them on the market.[287]
During this time they are fed on grain
soaked in milk. This produces a white,
juicy flesh.

When a bird is to be roasted it should
be trussed. This is done by forcing the
legs back against the body (after placing
the bird on its back); a string is then
tied across the bird’s body, holding the
legs down. The wings are best set firmly
against the breast by sticking a wooden
skewer through the joint and into the
bony part of the carcass, where the
skewer will hold against the bones.

In preparing birds for the oven their
breasts should be protected by slices of
bacon. Otherwise they will shrivel and
dry before the birds are cooked.

For broiling, the birds are cut through
in the back, in such a manner that they
quasi-hinge in the breast; they are then
flattened so they will lie evenly in a
double broiling iron; for this purpose
the heavy backbone is removed.

Stuffed Poularde

After trussing the bird rub it with lemon
so it will keep of good color; now cover
the breast with thin slices of bacon
(these can be tied on). The poularde
is put into a deep, thick saucepan and
cooked with butter and aromatics in the
oven. When it is nearly done it is
moistened with poultry stock. If this
stock reduces too fast, then it must be
renewed. It is finally added to the sauce.

These fowls may be stuffed with a
pilaff of rice. This is prepared as follows:
Half an onion is chopped and fried
in two ounces of butter. Before it
acquires color half a pound of Carolina
rice is added. This is stirred over the
fire until the rice has partly taken up the
butter; then it is moistened with consommé
(one quart); and covered and
cooked in a moderate oven for fifteen
minutes. It is now combined with a
little cream, a quarter a pound of dice of
goose liver and some dice of truffles.

The rice should not be entirely cooked
by the time it is stuffed into the bird;
the cooking is completed inside the bird.
The cream is added to provide moisture
for the rice to take up.

Instead of cream one may use consommé,
and the truffles and fat liver may
be left out, if too expensive.

The bird is served with a suitable sauce.

The best sauce for this purpose is
Sauce Suprême, and is prepared as follows:
Put two pints of clear poultry stock
and some mushroom-liquor into a sauté-pan.
Reduce two-thirds.

While this is going on prepare some
poultry velouté by bringing some butter
in a pan to bubble, and adding some flour.
This is brought to a boil while stirring
constantly. The flour must not be
allowed to color. Now, gradually, add
some poultry-stock, stirring all the while
with a whisk. Salt, pepper and nutmeg
are added. This is simmered on the side
of the fire, and then strained.

Now add one pint of this velouté to
the suprême sauce; reduce the whole on
an open fire, while constantly stirring.
Gradually add half a pint of good cream
and finish with a little butter.

Sautéed Chicken

Young chickens should be used for this
purpose. Feel the breast bone; if it
bends beneath pressure the bird is right.

Empty, singe and clean, and disjoint
the bird. This is done by cutting the
skin at the joints and loosening the bones
with a knife.

The wings are cut off in such manner
that each holds half of the breast; the
pinions are entirely cut off; the different
pieces are seasoned with salt and pepper;
now heat some clarified butter in a
sauté-pan; when it is very hot insert the
pieces of chicken and let them color
quickly; turn them over, from time to
time, so as to get a uniform color; cover
the utensil and put it in a fairly hot
oven. The legs are cooked for about
ten minutes more than the breast and
wings. The latter are kept hot separately.

When all pieces are done, they are
dished on a platter and kept hot in the[288]
oven; the pan is now moistened with
mushroom-liquor, or chicken stock, and
again put on the fire; only a very
little moistening is put in the pan. As
soon as it boils swing it around the pan
and then add to it, gradually, the sauce
that is to be served. This swinging in
the pan dissolves the flavor, which solidifies
in the bottom of the pan; it greatly
improves the sauce.

A simple sauce for sautéed chicken is
nut butter, that is, butter browned in the
pan. This may be varied by flavoring
it with a crushed garlic-clove. An
addition of fine herbs will further improve
it. A dark tomato sauce may also be
served.

A good garnish for sautéed chicken is
large dice of boletus mushrooms, sautéed
in garlic butter; also dice of raw potatoes
sautéed in clarified butter, and again fresh
tomatoes cut up and sautéed in butter.
Egg-plants are also excellent for a
garnish.

Sautéed chicken may be baked and
served in the cocotte.

Poulet en Casserole Bourgeoise

The chicken is trussed; the breast is
covered with strips of bacon and put into
a deep, thick saucepan. It is colored in
the oven, and when nearly done is transferred
to a casserole. It is now moistened
with some chicken-stock and a
little white wine. This moistening is
used in the basting, and after being freed
of fat, added to the sauce.

A few minutes before the fowl is done
bouquets of fresh vegetables are added to
the chicken, in individual heaps, and the
chicken is then served, either with a
sauce, or else with an addition of butter.
It should be carved in sight of the guests.

Chicken Pie

A fowl is cooked (boiled) with flavoring
vegetables until done, and is then cut up
as for fricassée; the pieces are seasoned
with salt and pepper and sprinkled with
chopped onions, a few mushroom-buttons
and some chopped parsley. The pieces
are now put into a pie-dish, legs undermost,
some thinly-sliced bacon is added
and some potatoes Parisienne (spooned
with the special potato spoon). The pie-dish
is now filled two-thirds with chicken
velouté (chicken-stock thickened with
flour and egg-yolks), and a pie crust is
laid over all, pressed to the edges of the
dish and trimmed off. The crust is slit
open (so the steam can escape), it should
be painted with egg-yolk, and be baked for
one and a half hours in a moderate oven.

Suprême de Volaille Jeanette

Of a poached cold fowl the suprêmes
(boneless wing and breast in one piece)
are loosened and trimmed to oval shape.
They are covered with white chaudfroid
sauce, by putting the pieces on a wire
tray and pouring the sauce over while
still liquid. They are decorated with
tarragon leaves.

In a square, flat pan a half-inch layer
of aspic is laid. On this slices of goose
liver are superimposed (after having been
trimmed to the shape of the suprêmes);
the suprêmes are now put on top of the
fat liver, and then covered with half-melted
chicken jelly.

When thoroughly cooled and ready to
serve, a square piece is cut out of the now
solid jelly around the suprêmes. The
suprême is thus served incrusted in a
square block of thick jelly; the dish is
decorated with greens.

[289]

It is to be supposed that when a man
gives up the comforts of town apartments
and hies him to the country, it is
the garden, the outdoors, which lures him.

Why is it, then, that he seems to take
particular pains to arrange his garden so
that it is about as much his own as
Central Park is?

It might give the average man a great
deal of pleasure to be able to say to all
the passersby on the Mall, “This little
bit of the Park belongs to me! I cut
that grass, I weed those flower beds in the
evening when I come home from the
office; and every Saturday afternoon I
take the hose and thoroughly soak that
bit of lawn there, you may see me at it
any week in the summer.”

But then, we are not dealing with the
fictitious average man, and we firmly
believe that many “commuters” wonder
deep down in their hearts why it is they
get from their gardens so little of the
pleasure they anticipated when they
came to live out of the city.

Any one who has traveled abroad, has
admired and perhaps coveted the gardens
of England, France, and Italy. Their
charm is undeniable, and thought to be
too elusive for reproduction on American
soil without the aid of landscape gardeners
and a fair-sized fortune.

Just why we, as a nation, are beset by
the idea of reproducing instead of originating
beautiful gardens is a question
apart from this discussion. But as soon
as we try to develop, to their fullest extent,
the advantages of our climate, and soil,
in combination with our daily life as a
people, we shall produce gardens which
will equal, without necessarily resembling,
those of other countries.

In every case we must, however, follow
the same procedure which every successful
garden is built upon, whether it
be in Mesopotamia or in Long Island
City. That is, we must study the place,
the people, and the circumstances.

The most general fault in American
gardens is their lack of privacy.

No one claims that the high walls of
Italy and France or the impenetrable
hedges of England would invariably suit
the climate here. But there are many
ways to obtain seclusion without in any
way depriving us of much-needed air in
summer and sun in winter. One way is
by placing the house rationally upon its
lot. Our custom has been to invariably
build so that we had a “front yard,”
“back yard,” and two side yards, all
equally important, equally uninteresting,
unbeautiful and useless.

Of course, we have the porch which in a
way takes the place of the outdoor living
room, always so attractive in foreign
gardens. And recently some laudable
efforts are being made to incorporate the
porch into the house, where it belongs,
as a real American institution, instead of
leaving it disconsolately clinging to the
outside and bearing no resemblance to
the house either in shape or detail.

But after all, a porch is a porch, and a
garden is a garden, and one does not take
the place of the other.

Especially is this true of the tiny
property.

If you have only ten feet of ground to
spare outside your tiny house, plan it so
that every foot contributes to your joy
at being in the country. Arrange it so
that on a warm summer evening when
the porch seems a bit close and dark, you
wander out into your garden and sit
beneath the stars in quiet as profound
as on the Desert of Sahara. And in the
winter, let your garden provide a warm
corner out of the wind, where on a
bright Sunday morning you may sit and
blink in the sun.

Once you have got the desire for a[290]
room outdoors, a real garden, which is
neither flower beds, nor lawns, nor
hedges, nor trees, but a place for your
comfort, with all these things contributing
to its beauty, you will know as by
divine inspiration where to put each
flower and bush and path. Your planting
will be no longer a problem for
landscape architects, but a pleasant
occupation for yourself and family.

So then will your successful tiny house
stand forth in its real garden, an object
of pride to the community and a tribute
to one man who has refused to be the
impossible average, and has dared to
build and plant for his own needs.

May he live forever and ever happy in
his tiny house!

Polly’s Thanksgiving Party

By Ella Shannon Bowles

The idea for the party came to Polly
one night as she was washing the
dinner dishes, and that very evening she
waved away the boys’ objection that
Thanksgiving was a family affair pure
and simple.

“I’m not planning to have any one in
for dinner,” she said, “though there’s
nothing that would suit me better, if the
apartment boasted a larger dining room.
But there are three girls in my Sunday
School class that can’t possibly go home
this year, and I’ve no doubt you boys
could find somebody that won’t be
invited anywhere. Thanksgiving is such
a cheerless place in a boarding house! If
we ask a few young people in for a party
in the evening, it will liven things up a
bit for them, and I think it will be pretty
good fun for us, don’t you?”

In the end Polly had her way, and just
a week before Thanksgiving, she sent
invitations to three girls and to two boys
whom Rupert and Harry suggested.

Polly searched the shops for a card of
two-eyed white buttons of the size of
ten cent pieces. She carefully sewed a
button on the upper part of a correspondence
card, added eyebrows, nose and
mouth with India ink, copied a body and
cap from Palmer Cox’s “Brownie Book,”
painted the drawing brown, and behold,
a saucy brownie grinned at her from the
invitation. Underneath the picture, she
carefully printed a jingle.

The boys took a walk into the country
on Thanksgiving morning and came laden
with sprays of high-bush cranberries.
These, with the bunches of chrysanthemums
which they bought, and Polly’s
fern and palm, gave the small living room
a festive appearance.

Assisted by her brothers, Polly served
the dinner early. After clearing the
dining room table, she placed a pumpkin
jack-o-lantern in the center, and arranged
around it piles of apples, grapes, and
oranges.

After the guests had been introduced
to each other, Polly passed each one a
paper plate containing a picture, cut and
jumbled into small pieces, and a tiny
paper of paste and a toothpick. Each
girl and boy was asked to put the “pi”
together and paste it on the inside of the
plate. When arranged, the pictures were
found to be of Thanksgiving flavor.
“Priscilla at the Wheel,” “The Pilgrims
Going to Church,” “The First Thanks[291]giving,”
and others of the same type.
To the person making his “pi” first a
small and delicious mince pie was
awarded.

Pencils and paper were then passed.
On one slip was written, “What I have to
be thankful for,” on the other, “Why I
am thankful for it.” The slips were
collected, mixed up, and distributed
again. Each guest was asked to read
the first slip handed him with the answer.
The result caused much laughter.

This was followed by a modification of
the famous “donkey game.” Polly had
painted a huge picture of a bronze turkey,
but minus the tail, and this was pinned to
the wall. Real turkey feathers with pins
carefully thrust through the quills were
handed about, and each guest was blindfolded
and turned about in turn. To the
one who successfully pinned a feather in
the tail was given a turkey-shaped box of
candy, and the consolation prize was a
copy of “Chicken-licken.”

A pumpkin-hunt came next. Tiny
yellow and green cardboard pumpkins
were concealed about the apartment.
The yellow pumpkins counted five and
the green two points. At the end of the
search a small pumpkin scooped out, and
filled with small maple sugar hearts, was
presented to the guest having the highest
score, and a toy book of, “Peter, Peter,
Pumpkin Eater” was awarded to the
unfortunate holding the lowest score.

Polly had determined to keep the
refreshments very simple. The day before
Thanksgiving she made an easy
salad dressing by beating two eggs, adding
one-half a cup of cider vinegar, two tablespoonfuls
of sugar, one teaspoonful of
mustard and one-half a teaspoonful of
salt, and a tablespoonful of melted butter.
She placed the ingredients in a bowl, set
in a dish of water on the front of the
stove, and when they thickened she removed
it from the fire and thinned with
cream. To make sandwiches, she mixed
the dressing with minced turkey, added
half a fine-chopped pepper, and spread
the mixture between dainty slices of
bread.

The sugared doughnuts she made by
beating two eggs, adding one cup of
sugar, one cup of sour milk, three tablespoonfuls
of melted butter and flour,
sifted with one-half a teaspoonful of soda
and two teaspoonfuls of baking powder,
to make the mixture thick enough to roll
without sticking to the moulding board.
They were cut with a small cutter, fried
in deep, hot fat, and sugared plentifully.

Rupert contributed “Corn Popped in a
Kettle.” A large spoonful of lard and a
teaspoonful of salt were placed in the
bottom of a large kettle over a hot fire.
A cup of shelled popcorn was added and
stirred briskly with a mixing spoon.
When the kernels began to pop, the
kettle was covered and shaken rapidly,
back and forth, until filled with fluffy,
white popcorn.

With the fruit and “grape-juice lemonade,”
the sandwiches, doughnuts and popcorn
made a pleasing “spread,” Polly
felt. She served everything on paper
plates and used paper napkins, decorated
with Thanksgiving designs.

To Make a Tiny House

[292]

Vegetable Tarts and Pies

Elizabeth Goose of Boston bestowed
a great blessing upon American
posterity when she induced her good
man, Thomas Fleet, to publish, in 1719,
“The Mother Goose Melodies,” many of
which rhymes dated back to a similar
publication printed in London two hundred
years before. Is it strange that,
with this ancestral nursery training, the
cry against the use of pastry goes unheeded,
when as children, we, too, have
sung to us, over and over, the songs of
tarts and pies?

The word tart comes from the Latin
word tortus, because tarts were originally
in twisted shapes, and every country
seems to have adopted them into their
national menus. That they were toothsome
in those early days is shown in
these same nursery rhymes, and, that
tarts seemed to have been relished by
royalty and considered worthy of theft
is evinced in the rhymes,

Again this ancient lore speaks of “Five
and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie,”
and, too, there was that child wonder,
“Little Jack Horner” who, with the same
unerring instinct of a water wizard with
a willow twig, could, by the sole means of
his thumb, locate and extricate, upon the
tip of the same, a plum from the Christmas
pie.

American tarts and pies are in a class
of their own. Pies were very closely
allied to pioneer, and the Colonial housewife
of early days was forced to concoct
fillings out of sweetened vegetables, such
as squash, sweet potatoes, and even some
were made of vinegar. Yet the children
still doted on these tempting tarts, pies
and turnovers, for were they not trotted
in babyhood on a

The next time you have a few varieties
of vegetables left over, or wish a dainty
luncheon side dish, try making a tray of
vegetable tarts with various fillings, and
they will prove as fascinating to choose
from as a tray of French pastries.

While I have worked out these modern
recipes in tempting ways of serving left-overs
using common vegetables, I will
lay all pastry honors to our fore-mothers,
who passed on to us the art of pie-making.
Proof as to the harmlessness of pies in
diet is shown in the fine constitution of
our American doughboy, who is certainly
a great credit to the heritage of pastry
handed down by the Daughters of the
American Revolution.

The moral of this discourse is that,
“The child is father of the man,” and
men dote on pies.

Potato Tarts à la Gratin

Line round muffin pans with pastry
circles as for other preserve tarts, and
fill with the following:

Dice cold-boiled potatoes, season with
salt and pepper, moisten with white
sauce, made of two tablespoonfuls of flour,
two tablespoonfuls of lard, one cup of milk,[293]
one-half a teaspoonful salt. Mix with this
grated cheese. Fill the shells and sprinkle
grated cheese on top. Bake a light
brown.

Baked Onion Dumplings

Parboil medium-sized onions in salted
water. Cut half way down in quarters,
add salt, butter, and pepper. Place each
on a square of biscuit dough or pastry,
rolled thin. Bring together opposite
corners, twist, and place in a moderate
oven to bake the onion tender. Serve
with white sauce.

Fresh Tomato Tart Salad

With a round cooky cutter make
rounds of pastry. Cut an equal number
with the doughnut cutter. Prick, sprinkle
lightly with grated cheese and bake
a light brown. Place a plain shell on a
crisp lettuce leaf, add a slice of tomato,
not larger, on top. Then pour on a little
mayonnaise and place on top the tart
shell with a hole in the center. Serve at
once.

Green Tomato Mince Pie

One peck of green tomatoes, put
through a food chopper. Boil, drain and
add as much water as juice drained out.
Scald and drain again. Add water as
before, scald and redrain. This time add
half as much water, then the following:—

Boil all together, and add one cup of
vinegar. Cook till thick as desired. Put
in jars and seal.

To one pint of this mixture add one
cup of chopped apple and the juice and
rind, grated or ground. Sweeten to
taste, fill crust and bake as the usual
mince pie.

Evaporated apples may be used, but
grind before soaking and do not cook.

These pies will not harm children, and
are very inexpensive, as compared to
those made of mincemeat.

Plum Tomato Preserves Turnovers

Make a circle as big as a saucer, or a
square equal in area. Fill the center with
plum tomato preserve and fold over
matching edges, either as a half circle, or
a triangle. Prick and bake.

Turnovers are especially ideal as pies
for fitting into lunch boxes, and may be
made of any sweetened vegetable preserve
for school lunches.

King Cabbage Tarts

Use cabbage, which has been boiled in
salted water and seasoned with salt and
pepper to taste. Make a white sauce and
pour over, mixing well with the cabbage.
Fill round muffin pans lined with pastry
circles, sprinkle with cheese over the top
and bake. Carrots may be used the
same way, omitting the cheese and using
latticed strips of pastry over the top.
These will be hardly recognizable as such
common vegetables.

New Ways of Using Milk

While probably the best way of
using milk is to drink it in its
raw or pasteurized state, many children
and adults will not use it in that form.
In that case, the problem is to disguise
or flavor the milk in some way so that the
food value will not be changed or destroyed,
and yet be more palatable than
the natural product.

It has been found that children will
drink flavored, sweetened milk when they
will simply not touch pure milk. In
order to demonstrate how universal the
craving for sweetened, cold drinks has
become, and how easy it is for the milkmen
to cater to this demand, Prof. J. L.
Sammis of the Wisconsin College of
Agriculture conducted a booth at the
1921 Wisconsin state fair and dispensed
milk in twenty-five new, pleasing, and
attractive ways over a soda fountain.

Thousands of these milk drinks were[294]
consumed, and a report from a Tennessee
county fair also revealed that 10,000
similar drinks were sold there by an
enterprising dairyman. There is nothing
elaborate about the proposition. If these
drinks are to be prepared in the home,
and the whole question is largely one of
increasing the home consumption of milk,
Professor Sammis declares:

“Take any flavor that happens to be
on the pantry shelf, put a little in a glass,
add sugar to taste, fill the glass with
milk, and put in some ice. That is all
there is to it. Be sure that the milk is
drank very cold, when it is most palatable.
Vanilla is a very good flavor.”

It is not even necessary that whole
milk be used, as condensed milk will do
very well. Simply dilute the condensed
milk with an equal volume of water, and
use as whole milk. Condensed milk,
however, has a cooked flavor found
objectionable by many, and, in that case,
a suitable substitute is powdered milk,
which has no such cooked flavor.

To prepare a powdered milk drink, put
the flavor into the receptacle first, then
the sugar, and then the powdered milk
with a little water. Beat the powdered
milk with an egg beater until it is wet
through, and then add the rest of the
water, finishing with the ice.

By adding fruit colors these various
milk drinks can be given a changed
external appearance, and wise is the
mother who will prepare them often when
her children show an inclination not to
drink enough milk. Served at the table,
they attract every member of the family.
These milk drinks are no more expensive
than many of the more watery and less
useful compounds, so often substituted.

Soda fountains might well consider
these various forms of sweetened and
flavored milk to attract new trade. At
the fountains the various flavoring syrups
would naturally be used, and no sugar is
necessary. And instead of clear water,
carbonated water is used. The variety
of these drinks is limited only by the
ingenuity of the dispenser.

Old New England Sweetmeats

Crab-Apple Dainty

Wash seven pounds of fruit and let
boil with a little water until soft
enough to press through a colander.
Add three pounds of sugar, three pints of
vinegar, and cloves and cinnamon to
taste, and let the mixture boil, slowly,
until it is thick and jelly-like.

Pumpkin Preserve

Pare a medium-sized pumpkin and cut
into inch cubes. Let steam until tender,
but not broken. Or cut the pumpkin
into large pieces and let steam a short
time and then cut the cubes.

Prepare a syrup of sugar and water,
about three pounds of sugar and a pint-and-a-half
of water, in which simmer the
juice and rind (cut into strips) of two
lemons. Drop the pumpkin cubes into
the syrup and let simmer, carefully, until
the pumpkin is translucent. Dip out the
pumpkin and pack in ordinary preserve
jars; pour over the syrup and lemon and
close the jars.

Apple-Orange Marmalade

Take seven pounds of apples, all
green, if possible; wash and remove
any imperfections, also the blossom and
stem. Cut, but do not core nor peel.
Cut in very small pieces. Three oranges;
wash and remove peel, which put through
finest knife of food-chopper, after discarding
the inner white peeling, also seeds.
Put the apple on to boil, adding water
till it shows among the fruit, and boil
to quite soft; mash fine and put in jelly
bag to drain over night. Boil the juice
with the orange pulp, cut in very small
pieces; add the orange peel and cook
for twenty minutes, or till the orange
is cooked. Add five (5) pounds of granulated
sugar and let boil until a little in a
cold saucer will jell.

This recipe has never been in print to
my knowledge and will prove very satisfactory
to the majority of people.

[295]

This department is for the benefit and free use of our subscribers. Questions relating to recipes
and those pertaining to culinary science and domestic economics in general, will be cheerfully
answered by the editor. Communications for this department must reach us before the first of the
month preceding that in which the answers are expected to appear. In letters requesting answers
by mail, please enclose address and stamped envelope. Address queries to Janet M. Hill, Editor.
American Cookery, 221 Columbus Ave., Boston, Mass.

Query No. 4241.—”I wish you would let me
have a good recipe for Caramel Icing, the kind
that does not call for the whites of eggs.”

Caramel Icing

Add two cups and one-half of dark
brown sugar to three-fourths a cup of
milk, and let boil thirteen minutes. When
nearly done add three tablespoonfuls of
butter and one teaspoonful of vanilla.
Beat until nearly cold, then spread on top
of cake. It may also be used between the
layers. If a sugar thermometer be used,
the syrup should be boiled to the soft-ball
stage, or between 235 deg. Fah. to 240
deg. Fah.

Query No. 4242.—”Please let me have a
recipe for Spiced Pineapple.”

Spiced Pineapple

Weigh six pounds of pineapple, after
paring, coring, and cutting in rather small
pieces. Cook in a porcelain kettle with
three cups of the best white vinegar,
until the pineapple is softened, keeping
the kettle closely covered, and turning
the fruit once in a while so that the pieces
may be equally exposed to the action of
the vinegar. Tie in cheesecloth or netting
one ounce, each, of whole cloves, previously
bruised, and stick cinnamon,
broken into small pieces; add these to
the kettle with five pounds of granulated
sugar, and let cook until the mixture is of
the consistency of marmalade, being careful
to avoid burning. The spices may be
removed as soon as they have given the
flavor desired.

Query No. 4243.—”Will you kindly answer
the following in your Department of Queries and
Answers? Should Boiled Potatoes be started
in cold or boiling water? Should Corn on the
cob be put on in cold water and allowed to
simmer for several minutes after it comes to a
boil, or be put on in boiling water and boiled
five minutes? Should Chicken, Turkey, or
other Fowl be covered during roasting? Can
you give a clear and up-to-date article on correct
Table Service?”

To Boil Potatoes

Very young, new potatoes—the kind
hardly bigger than walnuts, should be
put on in cold water and brought quickly
to a boil, for potatoes so young as to be
immature contain more or less of a bitter
principle, which is desirable to get rid of
in the cooking. Potatoes in their prime,
as from September to March, are best
put on in boiling, salted water. Later in
the spring, when the potatoes begin to
sprout and shrivel they ought to be put
on in cold water and brought, as slowly
as possible, to a boil, or allowed to stand
in cold water for some hours before
cooking.

To Boil Corn

It is usually preferred to put on the
corn in cold water, bring to a boil, and let
simmer until done. But to steam the
ears will give, in our opinion, the best
results.

Should Chicken Be Covered While
Roasting?

Decidedly not; it spoils the flavor not
only of chicken and turkey, but of any[296]
prime joint of meat to bake it in a covered
pan. The covered pan is properly used
for braising only, for the tough cuts which
have to be braised call for the combination
of baking and steaming which results
from the covered pan. All kinds of
poultry, and all prime joints of meat
should be placed on a rack in an uncovered
roasting pan, put into a very hot
oven for the first ten or fifteen minutes,
and then have one or two cups of water
poured over them, mixed with fat if the
meat is lean, this water to be used for
basting every ten or fifteen minutes.
The rack in the pan serves both to allow
a circulation of air around the meat, and
to keep it from touching the water. It
is this circulation of air that gives the fine
flavor of the properly roasted meat, and
the frequent opening of the oven door
for the basting serves to supply the fresh
air needed for the best results.

Instructions on Table Service

The Up-to-Date Waitress, by Janet
M. Hill, or Breakfasts, Luncheons, and
Dinners, by Mary D. Chambers, both
contain clear and up-to-date directions
for table service. We can supply these
books if you wish to have either of them.

Query No. 4244.—”Will you tell me in your
paper why my Lemon Pies become watery when
I return them to the oven to brown the meringue?
Also give me some suggestions for Desserts for
Summertime, other than frozen dishes.”

Why Lemon Pies Become Watery

A lemon pie may become watery when
put in the oven to brown the meringue,
if it be left in the oven too long; or it may
water because the filling was not sufficiently
cooked before putting into the
pastry shell; or it may be from an insufficiency
of flour being used in making the
filling. If you had told us just how your
pies are made, we would be better able
to solve your problem.

In future we hope to answer queries as
soon as they reach us, and by direct reply
to each individual questioner; but up to
the present we have answered most of
them in this department of the magazine,
and since it takes two or three months to
get the manuscript into print many of the
questions are answered too late. So it
happens with your inquiry regarding
desserts for Summertime. Any of the
cold desserts, such as gelatines, custards,
blancmanges, or fresh fruits with cream,
are suitable for summer and are easily
prepared.

Query No. 4245.—”Will you oblige me by an
answer to the following in the pages of American
Cookery? How shall I make Tartare Sauce?
What should be the temperature of the fat for
French Fried Potatoes or for Potato Chips?
Mine are never crisp, can you tell me why?
Also tell me how to Broil Fish, how to make a
good Cream Dressing for fish, meat, or croquettes,
and how to make Soft Gingerbread with
a sauce to put over it.”

Tartare Sauce

A Tartare Sauce or Sauce Tartare is
merely a mayonnaise dressing with pickles
chopped into it, a tablespoonful, each, or
more, of chopped cucumber, cauliflower,
and olives, with a tablespoonful of capers
and two teaspoonfuls of red pepper to a
pint of the mayonnaise. There is, however,
a hot Tartare Sauce which is made
by adding to one cup of thick white
sauce the following ingredients: One
tablespoonful, each, of chives, parsley,
pickled gherkins, olives, and capers, all
put through the food chopper. Stir into
the white sauce; heat while stirring constantly,
but do not allow the mixture to
boil, and add one tablespoonful of vinegar
just before serving.

Crisp Fried Potatoes

We think your trouble is not so much
the temperature of the fat, which should
be about 350 deg. to 375 deg. Fah., as it
is that potatoes, to be crisped by deep
frying, should first be soaked in cold
water for twenty to thirty minutes, then
dried perfectly before immersing in the
fat. Also, they should be removed from
the fat the moment they are done, and
drained dry.

To Broil Fish

Wipe the fish dry, and brush it lightly[297]
with oil or melted butter. Place it in a
double wire broiler, and cook over a clear
fire, turning every other minute until
both sides are a light, even brown. Remove
carefully from the broiler, using a
sharp boning knife to free it from adhesions.
If the fish is thoroughly oiled, it
should not adhere to the broiler.

I came to analyze the flavor-and-health values of these two fruit-foods.
At first their use seemed rather limited but with each new
dish others immediately suggested themselves.

The chief nutritive element in both prunes and apricots, of
course, is fruit sugar. But you derive great value, too, from their
mineral salts and organic acids. These improve the quality of the
blood and counteract the acid-elements in meat, eggs, cereals
and other high-protein foods.

Also, they are rich in tonic iron and other mineral and vitamine
elements needed for body tone. Nor should I forget to
mention that prunes especially provide a natural laxative made
in Nature’s own pharmacy.

But aside from these essential health values, I found that
Sunsweet Prunes and Apricots offer wonderful possibilities—varying
from the most delicate soufflé to the more substantial
cobbler, pie or pudding.

SUNSWEET

CALIFORNIA’S NATURE-FLAVORED

PRUNES & APRICOTS

[298]

Cream Sauce

Blend together butter and flour, and
add to hot milk; keep stirring until the
whole has boiled for at least one minute.
Add seasonings to taste, at the beginning
of cooking. The proportions for a thin,
a medium, and a thick sauce are, respectively:
One, two, and four tablespoonfuls
of flour to one cup of milk. And an equal
volume of butter, or one-third less than
the flour, is called for.

Soft Gingerbread

To two beaten eggs in a mixing-bowl
add two tablespoonfuls of butter, melted,
three-eighths a cup of sour milk, and one
cup of molasses. Beat all together; add
two cups of flour, sifted with one-half a
teaspoonful of salt and one teaspoonful
of baking powder, and one tablespoonful
of ginger. Lastly, add one teaspoonful
of baking soda, dissolved in two teaspoonfuls
of water. Bake in a sheet, and
serve with whipped cream for a simple
dessert.

Query No. 4246.—”Can you give me a
recipe for Deep-Dish Apple Pie? It has a thick
top covering, I cannot call it a crust, for it is
something between a cake and a biscuit dough—not
at all like pie crust.”

Deep-Dish Apple Pie

This is the genuine English Apple Pie—they
would call ours an apple tart. It is
made in oval baking-dishes of thick
yellow ware, about two and one-half or
three inches deep, and with flat rims an
inch in width. The first thing to do is to
invert a teacup—preferably one without
a handle—in the bottom of the dish,
then core and pare sour, juicy apples—any
number, from six to a dozen, depending
on the size of the family and the dish—and
divide them in eighths. Arrange
these in alternate layers with sugar in the
dish, with a generous sprinkling of whole
cloves over each layer, and pile, layer on
layer, until not another bit of apple can
go in anywhere without toppling out.
The apples are piled up as high again as
the depth of the dish, or higher. Now
lay over all a very rich biscuit dough,
lightly rolled out to one-fourth inch in
thickness. Decorate this with leaves,
or other cut-out designs, and arrange
them over the covering and moisten the
under sides with water, to make them
adhere during the baking. Place long
strips of the dough over the brim of the
pie-dish, and press with the bowl of a
spoon in concentric designs. Bake in a
moderate oven for an hour. Pieces of the
crust are cut off for serving, and spoonfuls
of the apple pulp are served with them on
the plate, then, as soon as convenient the
inverted cup is removed, and the rich
liquid collected under it is spooned over
each serving of crust and apples.

Query No. 4247.—”I wish very much to
know the right temperature for Baking both
layer and loaf, white, butter Cakes, also for
chocolate Cake. Should the Baking begin with
a cold or a warm oven? How long should each
kind of cake bake?”

Temperature for Cake Baking

The usual time and temperature for
baking layer cakes is 400 deg. Fah., for
twenty minutes. Loaf cakes, made with
butter, with or without chocolate, take
a temperature of from 350 deg. to 375
deg, Fah. for from forty minutes to an
hour. These temperatures are approximate,
and are in accordance with the
general rules for oven temperature, but
this has to be adapted to the recipe. The
more sugar used the lower should be the
temperature, to avoid burning, and especially
when molasses is used does the
need to decrease temperature become
imperative. The more butter used the
higher should be the temperature, at
least, until the cake is “set,” to keep it
from falling. Cakes with much butter[299]
need the greatest heat at first, and then
a reduced temperature. So do all cakes
of small size. Large cakes are better at a
uniform temperature, not so high as the
average. A different flavor is produced,
especially in very rich cakes with a good
many eggs, when put into a cool oven
and baked with gradually increasing heat,
from that developed by a high initial
temperature and then a decreased heat.
The quality of the flour and shortening
also affect the temperature and time
needed in baking. It is a good safe
thing to follow the rules, and to temper
them with judgment. When the cake is
just firm in the center, and has shrunk
from the sides of the pan, it is done, no
matter what the temperature has been
or how long it has baked. But you will
always get your cake at this condition,
more surely and safely, by following the
rules, though you must be on the alert to
use them with flexibility.

Another
Mystery Cake

[300]

The Baby Midget

Hose Supporter

Has taken the place of all
makeshifts ever known for
holding up baby’s tiny socks—equipped
with that exclusive
feature found only on Velvet
Grip garters for “grown-ups”—namely
the

Query No. 4248.—”Will you please give
me a recipe for Canned Pimientoes?”

Canned Pimientoes

Cut round the stem of each, and with
a small, sharp knife remove the seeds and
the white partitions inside. Set on a
baking sheet in a hot oven until the thin
outside skin puffs and cracks, then remove
it with a small, sharp knife. Or they
may be scalded, then dipped into cold
water and the skin be carefully removed.
Sometimes the skin is left on. Now
press each one flat, and arrange them in
layers, alternately overlapping one another,
in the jars, without liquid, and
process for twenty-five to thirty-five
minutes at 212 deg. Fah. During the
processing a thick liquid should exude,
covering the pimientoes.

Query No. 4249.—”I should like a recipe for
New York Ice Cream.”

Classes of Ice Cream

There are three distinct classes of Ice
Cream: The Philadelphia, which is
supposed to be made of heavy cream; the
French, which is made with eggs on a
soft custard foundation; and the so-called
American, which is made on the
foundation of a thin white sauce. All
three classes are made in New York, and
in every other large city, but we have
never heard that any special recipe for
ice cream is peculiar to New York. The
less expensive forms of cream, in that and
every other city, are those based on a
thin white sauce, sweetened, flavored, and
frozen.

It was the custom of the congregation
to repeat the Twenty-third Psalm in concert,
and Mrs. Armstrong’s habit was to
keep about a dozen words ahead all the
way through. A stranger was asking one
day about Mrs. Armstrong. “Who,” he
inquired, “was the lady who was already
by the still waters while the rest of us
were lying down in green pastures?”

[301]

“Choisa”
Orange Pekoe
Ceylon Tea

Pre-War Prices 1-lb. Cartons, 60 cents 1/2-lb. Cartons, 35 cents

Pre-War Quality

We invite comparison with any tea
selling under $1.00 a pound

———————————
S. S. PIERCE CO.
BOSTON            BROOKLINE

[303]

… and Cook says there’s
a secret behind the flavor

[304]

DELICIOUS AND SUSTAINING
DIABETIC
FOODS
QUICKLY MADE WITH

RICH IN PROTEIN AND FAT

CONTAINS PRACTICALLY NO STARCH

—————————————

Twenty Cents Brings a General Sample
—————————————

Thompson’s Malted Food Company
17 River Drive       Waukesha, Wisconsin

SERVICE TABLE WAGON

IT SERVES YOUR HOME AND SAVES YOU TIME

Dress Designing Lessons
FREE

Women—Girls—15 or over, can easily learn Dress
and Costume Designing during their spare moments
IN TEN WEEKS

Dress and Costume Designers
Frequently Earn

$45 to $100 a Week
Many Start Parlors in
Their Own Homes

Every woman who now does plain sewing should take up Designing Hundreds Learn Millinery by Mail

Cut and Mail to Franklin Institute, Dept. R 640 Rochester, N.Y. Send me AT ONCE free sample lessons in the subject here checked. □Dress Designing          □Millinery Name _______________________________ Address _____________________________

---

[305]

Household Discoveries with Gelatine

HOUSEKEEPERS everywhere are constantly sending me new and unusual uses
for gelatine. These hints are so interesting that I am giving as many as possible
here, together with one of my own gelatine specialties. If you, too, have discovered
some new use for Knox Gelatine, send it to me that I may publish it on this page.

A DELICIOUS THANKSGIVING DESSERT

1 envelope Knox Sparkling Gelatine	1 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup cold water	2 cups cream
White of 1 egg	1/4 pound nut meats, chopped
1 teaspoonful vanilla	1/8 teaspoonful salt

Soften the gelatine in the cold water ten minutes and dissolve over hot water. Heat the maple
syrup and pour on the beaten white of the egg, beating until very light. Beat in the gelatine and,
when cool, fold in the cream, beating well, and add vanilla, salt and nut meats. Line mold with
lady fingers or slices of stale sponge cake. Turn in the cream and chill.

For after-dinner candies, try Knox Gelatine mints

Fruit juices, from canned or “put-up” fruits, need not be served with the fruit
but poured off, saved and made into Knox Gelatine desserts and salads. The juice
from canned strawberries, loganberries, or blackberries makes a most delicious jelly
when combined with Knox Gelatine, or with nuts, cheese and lettuce, a delightful
fruit salad.

Canned apricot juice, jellied with spices and grated orange rind, makes an appetizing
relish for meat or fish.

Canned pineapple juice, molded with sliced tomatoes or cucumbers, makes a
most unusual jellied salad.

In these fruit juice desserts and salads, use one level tablespoonful Knox Gelatine
for every two cups of juice, or two level teaspoonfuls to a cup of liquid. First soften
gelatine in cold water and add fruit juice, heated sufficiently to dissolve gelatine.
Pour into wet molds and chill.

Bread crumbs, rice and nuts, combined with Knox Gelatine, make a nutritious
“Vegetarian Nut Loaf.” This may be used in place of meat and is appropriate for
a simple home luncheon or dinner. See detailed recipe, page 5, of the Knox booklet,
“Food Economy.”

MANY GELATINE DISCOVERIES IN KNOX BOOKLETS

There are many additional uses for gelatine in my recipe booklets, “Dainty Desserts” and
“Food Economy,” which contain recipes for salads, desserts, meat and fish molds, relishes, candies,
and invalid dishes. They will be sent free for 4
cents in stamps and your grocer’s name.

—————— Any domestic science teacher can have sufficient gelatine for her class, if she will write me on school stationery, stating quantity and when needed. —————— “Wherever a recipe calls for Gelatine—think of KNOX” MRS CHARLES B. KNOX KNOX GELATINE 107 Knox Avenue    Johnstown, N. Y.

[306]

A Delicious and
Sustaining Breakfast

All the wholesome,
nutritious food elements
of wheat and
malt are combined in

MALT
BREAKFAST
FOOD

With cream or milk,
it makes a healthful,
substantial morning
meal for the whole
family. At grocers,—in
the blue and yellow
package with the
little Dutch girl on it.

Try it—tomorrow

THE MALTED CEREALS CO.
Burlington, Vermont

DELISCO

The Most Delicious Substitute for Coffee Drinkers Endorsed by Physicians and Professor Allyn of Westfield

Soothes the nerves, equals in taste
and aroma the choicest grades of
coffee, without the caffeine effects

Delisco contains 21% protein

For Children, Adults and Invalids

At your Grocer’s—50 cup pkg.—48c
By Parcel Post Prepaid:
1 package 55c; 2 packages $1.00

Sawyer Crystal Blue Co.
Sole Selling Agents
88 Broad Street, Boston, Mass.

LOCAL AGENTS WANTED

[307]

Try this recipe for Gingerbread
—delicious and economical

Sift flour, salt, soda and spices
into bowl. Melt together HEBE,
water, sugar, butter, syrup and
molasses. Cool slightly and add to
dry ingredients with egg and raisins.
Turn into greased and floured cake
tin and bake in moderate oven for
an hour.

You’ll love gingerbread made
this way. It’s a good wholesome
food and an always welcome dessert.
HEBE gives it that good
rich flavor and the fine texture
that makes it melt in your mouth—and
HEBE adds nutriment too.

HEBE is pure skimmed milk
evaporated to double strength
enriched with cocoanut fat. In
cooking it serves a threefold
purpose—to moisten, to shorten
and to enrich.

[308]

“WIN-A-SPIN” TOPS Fortune may smile on the winner. White for fame, pink for gold and blue for happiness. The longest spinner is the winner. Box of 3 tops, 50c. postpaid. (Ask for No. 4249.) Our catalog shows hundreds of novel, inexpensive gifts for young and old. Send for a copy today and make your Christmas shopping a pleasure. See the Pohlson things in stores and gift shops. Look for the Pohlson seal of distinction. POHLSON Gift Shop     Pawtucket, R. I.	CAKE and MUFFIN TESTER Convenient, Sanitary and Hygienic Year’s Supply for a Dime. Send 10c. (Stamps or Coin) to PERCY H. HOWARD 2 Central Square        Cambridge, Mass.
We wish the following back numbers of AMERICAN COOKERY June 1915 May 1917 December 1919 June 1920 November 1920 March 1921 and will remit one dollar to any one sending us the above SET of SIX numbers (We desire only complete sets of 6 numbers) The Boston Cooking School Magazine Co. BOSTON, MASS.	SALAD SECRETS 100 recipes. Brief but complete. 15c by mail. 100 Meatless recipes 15c. 50 Sandwich recipes 15c. All three 30c. B. R. BRIGGS, 250 Madison St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
	“Ten-Cent Meals” 42 Meals with receipts and directions for preparing each. 48 pp. 10c. Am. School of Home Economics, 503 W. 69th St., Chicago

The Silver Lining

It’s Only Old Pot Liquor, After All

[309]

[310]

No. 4244

DAINTY
DORIS

A Dishwasher for $2.50!

Foreman: “What are you doin’ of,
James?”

Bricklayer: “Sharpenin’ a bit o’
pencil.”

Foreman: “You’ll ‘ave the Union
after you, me lad. That’s a carpenter’s
job.”—Punch.

“Home-Making as a Profession”

Since 1905 the American School of
Home Economics has given home-study
courses to over 30,000 housekeepers,
teachers, and others. The special textbooks
have been used for class work in
over 500 schools.

Of late years, courses have been developed
fitting for many well paid positions:—Institution
Management, Tea
Room and Lunchroom Management,
Teaching of Domestic Science, Home
Demonstrators, Dietitians, Nurses, Dressmaking,
“Cooking for Profit.” Home-Makers’
Courses:—Complete Home
Economics, Household Engineering, Lessons
in Cooking, The Art of Spending.

BULLETINS: Free-Hand Cooking,
Ten-cent Meals, Food Values, Family
Finance, Art of Spending, Weekly Allowance
Book, 10c. each.

Details of any of the courses and interesting
80-page illustrated handbook,
“The Profession of Home-Making” sent
on request. American School of Home
Economics, 503 W. 69th Street, Chicago.

[311]

THANKSGIVING TIME

Stickney & Poor Spice Company 1815—Century Old—Century Honored—1921 Mustard-Spices BOSTON and HALIFAX Seasonings-Flavorings THE NATIONAL MUSTARD POT

[312]

JUST THE THING FOR THE HOT WEATHER

Gossom’s Cream Soups (in Powdered Form)
Pure, Wholesome, Delicious

Quickly and
Easily Prepared.

Simply add
water and boil
15 minutes and
you have a delightful soup, of high food value and low
cost. One 15 cent package makes 3 pints of soup.

These soups do not deteriorate, so may be continually on
hand and thus found most convenient. The contents
also keep after opening.

Split pea, Green pea, Lima, Celery, Black Bean, Clam
Chowder, Onion and (Mushroom 25c).

Sample sent prepaid on receipt of 20 cents, or one dozen for
$1.75.

For Sale by leading grocers 15 cents a package, 20 cents in
far West.

Manufactured by
B. F. Gossom, 692 Washington St., Brookline, 46, Mass.

“Free-Hand Cooking”

	Trade Mark Registered. Gluten Flour
40% GLUTEN Guaranteed to comply in all respects to standard requirements of U. S. Dept. of Agriculture.
	Manufactured by FARWELL & RHINES Watertown, N. Y.

Cremo–Vesco

Bernard Shaw: “Say, Einie, do you
really think you understand yourself?”

Einstein: “No, Bernie—do you?”

As the Sunday-school teacher entered,
she saw leaving in great haste a little girl
and her smaller brother. “Why, Mary,
you aren’t going away?” she exclaimed in
surprise. “Pleathe, Mith Anne, we’ve
got to go,” was the distressed reply.
“Jimmy thwallowed hith collection.”

DELISCO is considered by connoisseurs
a most delicious, refreshing and
healthful drink. It fully satisfies, by
its aroma and flavor, the natural desire
of the coffee drinker who has heretofore
continued to take coffee because unable
to find a satisfactory equivalent. When
properly made, experts have been unable
to distinguish DELISCO from the finer
grades of coffee.    —Adv.

Cooking for Profit

By Alice Bradley

It explains just how to prepare food,
“good enough to sell”; just what to
cook, with many choice recipes; how to
establish a reputation and a constant
profitable market; how to cater for all
occasions, and tells in detail how to
establish and conduct successful tea
rooms, etc.—how to manage all food
service.

The expense for equipment is little or
nothing at first, the correspondence
instruction is under the personal direction
of Miss Bradley which assures your
success, the fee for the course is very
moderate and may be paid on easy
terms. For full details write to American
School of Home Economics, 503 W. 69th
Street, Chicago.    —Adv.[313]

Dr. Price’s Vanilla

To know pure, delicate, full-flavored vanilla extract at its very best—try Price’s Vanilla. Only the highest quality beans, carefully chosen, are used. Perfectly cured and extracted to get the true, pure flavor; this flavor is then aged in wooden casks to bring out all its richness and mellowness. That—and that alone—is Price’s Vanilla. For nearly seventy years—the quality of Price’s Vanilla has never varied. It is always the best that can be made! Insist upon Price’s from your grocer—don’t take a substitute. If he hasn’t it in stock, he can easily get it for you! PRICE FLAVORING EXTRACT COMPANY “Experts in Flavor” In Business 68 Years Chicago, Ill.

Look for Price’s Tropikid on the label

WHITE HOUSE
Coffee

[314]

No SALAD is quite so PERFECT
as when served with ROSE APPLES

Six hundred leading hotels, from Bangor to Los Angeles,
are using them.

A new sweet pepper used as salad cups, garnishes, etc.—beautiful
red—rich, nutty flavor—crisp—tender—melting—juicy.

If not on sale in your Fancy Grocery we will deliver, charges
prepaid, east of Denver, a case of six full quarts for $3.90.
Each quart will serve 13 to 16 people.

Try them at your next dinner. Your guests will rave.
The first expression is: “The lovely things, what are they?”
Then at the first taste: “How delicious; where can I get them?”

If dissatisfied after using one quart, return the remainder at
our expense and we will return all money paid.

A new book of SALADS in every case, or sent free on request,
with the name of your retail Fancy Grocer.

French Ivory Manicure Sets

“Where My Money Goes”

Wagner Cast Aluminum utentsils
utensils are cast, not
stamped. Being in one solid piece
there are no rivets to loosen, no
seams to break, no welded parts.
Wagner Cast Aluminum Ware
wears longer and cooks better.
The thickness of the metal is the
reason—heat is retained and evenly
distributed—food does not scorch
or burn as is liable in stamped
sheet utensils.

Wagner Ware combines durability
and superior cooking
quality with the most
beautiful designs and finish.
At best dealer’s.

Don’t ask for aluminum
ware, ask for Wagner Ware

“Household Helpers”

Have you ever considered how much
an hour a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a
year is worth to you? Many workmen
get $1 an hour—surely your time is
worth 30 cents an hour. We guarantee
these “Helpers” to save you at least an
hour a day, worth say $2.10 a week.
Will you invest the 10 cents a week to gain
$2 weekly? Send the coupon.

And the value our “Helpers” give you
in courage and inspiration, in peace of
mind, in the satisfaction of progress, in
health, happiness and the joy of living,—is
above price. In mere dollars and cents,
they will save their cost twelve times a
year or more. Send the coupon.

These helpers, “Lessons in Cooking”
and “Household Engineering,” were both
prepared as home-study courses, and as
such have been tried out and approved
by thousands of our members. Thus
they have the very highest recommendation.
Nevertheless we are willing to send
them in book form, on a week’s free trial
in your own home. Send the coupon.

In these difficult days you really cannot
afford to be without our “Helpers.” You
owe it to yourself and family to give them
a fair trial. You cannot realize what
great help they will give you till you
try them—and the trial costs you
nothing! Send no money—send the coupon.

Send your two “HOUSEHOLD HELPERS,” prepaid
on a week’s trial, in the De Luxe binding. If satisfactory, I
will send you $5 in full payment (OR) 50 cents and $1 per
month for five months. Otherwise I will return one or
both books in seven days. (Regular mail price $3.14 each).

[315]

MILK—Nature’s first food—is turned
into an attractive, delicious dish
that children and adults enjoy when it is made
into Junket.

MADE with MILK

is wholesome milk in tasty dessert form. It is
eaten slowly and enjoyed—hence it is the better
way of serving milk.

Junket can now be made with Junket Powder, as well
as with Tablets. The new Junket Powder is already
sweetened and flavored. Made in 6 different flavors.

Both Grocers and Druggists sell Junket

Send 4c. in stamps and your grocer’s name, for
sample (or 15c. for full size package of Junket Tablets;
20c. for full size package of Junket Powder)
with recipes.

THE JUNKET FOLKS, Little Falls, N.Y.

Chr. Hansen’s Canadian Laboratory, Toronto, Ont.

“The Art of Spending”

This Big 5 Pound Bag of Delicious Shelled Peanut

Send for Recipe Book

Direct from grower by Prepaid Parcels Post to your door. More and better peanuts than $5 will buy at stands or stores. Along with Recipe Book telling of over 60 ways to use them as foods. We guarantee prompt delivery and ship at once. 10 lbs, $3.00. Money back if not delighted.

Help! Help!! Help!!!

Salt Mackerel

CODFISH, FRESH LOBSTER

Write for this book, “Sea
Foods; How to Prepare and
Serve Them.” With it we send
our list with delivered price of
each kind of fish.

FAMILIES who are fond of FISH can be supplied DIRECT
from GLOUCESTER, MASS., by the FRANK E. DAVIS
COMPANY, with newly caught, KEEPABLE OCEAN FISH,
choicer than any inland dealer could possibly furnish.

We sell ONLY TO THE CONSUMER DIRECT, sending
by EXPRESS RIGHT TO YOUR HOME. We PREPAY
express on all orders east of Kansas. Our fish are pure, appetizing
and economical and we want YOU to try some, subject
to your complete approval or your money will be cheerfully
refunded.

SALT MACKEREL, fat, meaty, juicy fish, are delicious for
breakfast. They are freshly packed in brine and will not spoil
on your hands.

CODFISH, as we salt it, is white, boneless and ready for
instant use. It makes a substantial meal, a fine change from
meat, at a much lower cost.

FRESH LOBSTER is the best thing known for salads.
Right fresh from the water, our lobsters simply are boiled and
packed in PARCHMENT-LINED CANS. They come to
you as the purest and safest lobsters you can buy and the meat
is as crisp and natural as if you took it from the shell yourself.

FRIED CLAMS are a relishable, hearty dish, that your whole
family will enjoy. No other flavor is just like that of clams,
whether fried or in a chowder.

FRESH MACKEREL, perfect for frying, SHRIMP to
cream on toast, CRABMEAT for Newburg or deviled, SALMON
ready to serve, SARDINES of all kinds, TUNNY
for salad, SANDWICH FILLINGS and every good
thing packed here or abroad you can get direct
from us and keep right on your pantry
shelf for regular or emergency use.

[316]

A Coal and Gas Range
With Three Ovens
That Really Saves

Coal, Wood, and Gas Range	Although it is less than four feet long it can do every kind of cooking for any ordinary family by gas in warm weather, or by coal or wood when the kitchen needs heating. There are two separate baking ovens—one for coal and one for gas. Both ovens may be used at one time—or either one singly. In addition to the two baking ovens there is gas broiling oven.
See the cooking surface when you want to rush things—five burners for gas and four covers for coal. The illustrations show the wonderful pearl grey porcelain enamel finish—so neat and attractive. No more soiled hands, no more dust and smut. By simply passing a damp cloth over the surface you are able to clean your range instantly. They certainly do Make Cooking Easy.	The Range that “Makes Cooking Easy”

Glenwood

[317]

	Suggestions for Christmas Gifts WOULD not many of your friends to whom you will make Christmas Gifts be more pleased with a year’s subscription to AMERICAN COOKERY ($1.50) than with any other thing of equal cost you could send them?    The magazine will be of practical use to the recipient 365 days in the year and a constant and pleasant reminder of the donor.    To make this gift more complete, we will send the December number so as to be received the day before Christmas, together with a card reading as per cut herewith.    This card is printed in two colors on heavy stock and makes a handsome souvenir. We will make a Christmas Present of a copy of the American Cook Book to every present subscriber who sends us two “Christmas Gift” subscriptions at $1.50 each. Practical and Useful Cookery Books By MRS. JANET M. HILL, Editor of American Cookery AMERICAN COOK BOOK $1.50 This cook book deals with the matter in hand in a simple, concise manner, mainly with the cheaper food products. A cosmopolitan cook book. Illustrated. BOOK OF ENTRÉES $2.00 Over 800 recipes which open a new field of cookery and furnish a solution of the problem of “left overs.” There is also a chapter of menus which will be of great help in securing the best combination of dishes. Illustrated. CAKES, PASTRY AND DESSERT DISHES $2.00 Mrs. Hill’s latest book. Practical, trustworthy and up-to-date. CANNING, PRESERVING AND JELLY-MAKING $1.75 Modern methods of canning and jelly-making have simplified and shortened preserving processes. In this book the latest ideas in canning, preserving and jelly-making are presented. COOKING FOR TWO $2.25 Designed to give chiefly in simple and concise style those things that are essential to the proper selection and preparation of a reasonable variety of food for the family of two individuals. A handbook for young housekeepers. Used as text in many schools. Illustrated from photographs. PRACTICAL COOKING AND SERVING $2.50 This complete manual of how to select, prepare, and serve food recognizes cookery as a necessary art. Recipes are for both simple and most formal occasions; each recipe is tested. 700 pages. Used as a text-book in many schools. Illustrated. SALADS, SANDWICHES AND CHAFING DISH DAINTIES $2.00 To the housewife who likes new and dainty ways of serving food, this book proves of great value. Illustrated. THE UP-TO-DATE WAITRESS $1.75 A book giving the fullest and most valuable information on the care of the dining-room and pantry, the arrangement of the table, preparing and serving meals, preparing special dishes and lunches, laundering table linen, table decorations, and kindred subjects. The book is a guide to ideal service.    We will send any of the above books, postpaid, upon receipt of price; or, add one dollar ($1) to the price of any of the books and we will include a year’s subscription for American Cookery. ———————— THE BOSTON COOKING SCHOOL MAGAZINE CO., Boston, Mass.

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INDIVIDUAL INITIAL JELLY MOULDS

This shows the jelly turned from the mould.

Serve Eggs, Fish and Meats in Aspic: Coffee and Fruit Jelly; Pudding and other desserts with your initial letter raised on the top. Latest and daintiest novelty for the up-to-date hostess. To remove jelly take a needle and run it around inside of mould, then immerse in warm water; jelly will then come out in perfect condition. Be the first in your town to have these. You cannot purchase them at the stores.

This shows mould upside down!

“PATTY IRONS”

As illustrated, are used to make dainty, flaky
patés or timbales; delicate pastry cups for serving
hot or frozen dainties, creamed vegetables,
salads, shell fish, ices, etc. Each set comes
securely packed in an attractive box with recipes
and full directions for use. Sent, postpaid, for
two (2) new subscriptions. Cash Price $1.50.

One of the most
modern and efficient
kitchen helps ever invented.
A big labor
and time saver.

Sent, prepaid, for
one (1) new subscription.
Cash Price 75
cents.

FRENCH ROLL BREAD PAN

Open End

Best quality blued steel. Six inches wide by
13 long. One pan sent, prepaid, for one (1) new
subscription. Cash Price 75 cents.

SEAMLESS VIENNA BREAD PAN

Two of these pans sent, postpaid, for one (1)
new subscription. Cash Price 75 cents for two
pans.

HEAVY TIN BORDER MOULD

Sent, prepaid, for one (1) new subscription.
Cash Price 75 cents.

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PREMIUMS

PASTRY BAG AND FOUR TUBES (Bag not shown in cut) A complete outfit. Practical in every way. Made especially for Bakers and Caterers. Eminently suitable for home use. The set sent, prepaid, for one (1) new subscription. Cash price, 75 cents.

THE A. M. C. ORNAMENTER Rubber pastry bag and twelve brass tubes, assorted designs, for cake decorating. This set is for fine work, while the set described above is for more general use. Packed in a wooden box, prepaid, for two (2) new subscriptions. Cash price, $1.50.

“RAPIDE”
TEA INFUSER

Economic, clean and convenient.
Sent, prepaid, for
one (1) subscription. Cash
price, 75 cents.

CAKE ORNAMENTING SYRINGE For the finest cake decorating. Twelve German silver tubes, fancy designs. Sent, prepaid, for four (4) new subscriptions. Cash price, $3.00.

		The only reliable and sure way to make Candy, Boiled Frosting, etc., is to use a THERMOMETER Here is just the one you need. Made especially for the purpose by one of the largest and best manufacturers in the country. Sent, postpaid, for two (2) new subscriptions. Cash price, $1.50.
HOME CANDY MAKING OUTFIT Thermometer, dipping wire, moulds, and most of all, a book written by a professional and practical candy maker for home use. Sent, prepaid, for five (5) new subscriptions. Cash price, $3.75.		VEGETABLE CUTTERS Assorted shapes. Ordinarily sell for 15 cents each. Six cutters—all different—-prepaid, for one (1) new subscription. Cash price, 75 cents.