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Title: Mary at the Farm and Book of Recipes Compiled During Her Visit
Among the "Pennsylvania Germans"

Author: Edith May Bertels Thomas

Release date: September 27, 2004 [eBook #13545]
Most recently updated: October 28, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY AT THE
FARM AND BOOK OF RECIPES COMPILED DURING HER VISIT
AMONG THE "PENNSYLVANIA GERMANS" ***

The Project Gutenberg eBook, Mary at the Farm and Book of Recipes
Compiled during Her Visit among the "Pennsylvania Germans", by Edith
M. Thomas

MARY AT THE FARM
AND
BOOK OF RECIPES
COMPILED DURING HER
VISIT AMONG THE
"PENNSYLVANIA GERMANS"

BY

EDITH M. THOMAS
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
1915

We love our Pennsylvania, grand old Keystone State;
Land of far famed rivers, and rock-ribbed mountains great.
With her wealth of "Dusky Diamonds" and historic valleys fair,
Proud to claim her as our birthplace; land of varied treasures rare.

PREFACE

The incidents narrated in this book are based on fact, and, while not
absolutely true in every particular, the characters are all drawn from real
life. The photographs are true likenesses of the people they are supposed to
represent, and while in some instances the correct names are not given (for
reasons which the reader will readily understand), the various scenes, relics,
etc., are true historically and geographically. The places described can be
easily recognized by any one who has ever visited the section of
Pennsylvania in which the plot (if it can really be called a plot) of the story
is laid. Many of the recipes given Mary by Pennsylvania German
housewives, noted for the excellence of their cooking, have never appeared
in print.
THE AUTHOR.

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO MY FRIENDS WITH GRATITUDE
FOR THEIR MANY HELPFUL KINDNESSES.

"HE WHO HAS A THOUSAND FRIENDS, HAS NEVER A ONE TO
SPARE."

THE HOUSEKEEPER'S SYMPHONY

"To do the best that I can, from morn till night.
And pray for added strength with coming light;
To make the family income reach alway,
With some left over for a rainy day;
To do distasteful things with happy face,
To try and keep the odds and ends in place.
To smile instead of frown at Fate,
Which placed me in a family always late
For meals; to do the sewing, mending and
The thousand small things always near at hand,
And do them always with a cheerful heart,
Because in life they seem to be my part;
To know the place of everything and keep
It there, to think, to plan, to cook, to sweep,
To brew, to bake, to answer questions,
To be the mainspring of the family clock.
(Or that effect) and see that no tick, tock
Is out of time or tune, or soon or late,
This is the only symphony which I
Can ever hope to operate."
MARION WILEY.

CONTENTS
PREFACE
CONTENTS
ILLUSTRATIONS
CHAPTER I. Mary's Letter Received at Clear Spring Farm
CHAPTER II. Mary's Arrival at the Farm
CHAPTER III. Schuggenhaus Township
CHAPTER IV. John Landis
CHAPTER V. The Old Farm-House and Garden
CHAPTER VI. Mary Confides in "Aunt Sarah" and Gives Her
Views on Suffrage for Women
CHAPTER VII Professor Schmidt
CHAPTER VIII. Uses of An Old-Fashioned Wardrobe
CHAPTER IX. Poetry and Pie
CHAPTER X. Sibylla Linsabigler
CHAPTER XI. New Colonial Rag Rugs
CHAPTER XII. Mary Imitates Navajo Blankets
CHAPTER XIII. "The Girls' Camp Fire" Organized by Mary
CHAPTER XIV. Mary Makes "Violet and Rose Leaf" Beads
CHAPTER XV. Mary and Elizabeth Visit Sadie Singmaster
CHAPTER XVI. The Old Parlor Made Beautiful (Modernized)
CHAPTER XVII. An Old Song Evening
CHAPTER XVIII. A Visit to the "Pennsylvania Palisades"
CHAPTER XIX. Mary Is Taught to Make Pastry, Patties and
Rosenkuchcen
CHAPTER XX. Old Potteries and Decorated Dishes
CHAPTER XXI. The Value of Wholesome, Nutritious Food
CHAPTER XXII. A Variety of Cakes Evolved From One Recipe
CHAPTER XXIII. The Old "Taufschien"
CHAPTER XXIV. The Old Store on the Ridge Road
CHAPTER XXV. An Elbadritchel Hunt
CHAPTER XXVI. The Old Shanghai Rooster
CHAPTER XXVII. A "Potato Pretzel"

CHAPTER XXVIII. Faithful Service
CHAPTER XXIX. Mary, Ralph, Jake and Sibylla Visit the
Allentown
CHAPTER XXX. Fritz Schmidt Explores Durham Cave
CHAPTER XXXI. Mary's Marriage
MARY'S COLLECTION OF RECIPES
INDEX TO RECIPES

ILLUSTRATIONS
Mary
Aunt Sarah
The Old Spring House
The Old Mill Wheel
The Old Mill
Old Corn Crib
The New Red Barn
The Old Farm-House
Ralph Jackson
Rocky Valley
Professor Schmidt
Frau Schmidt
Old Time Patch-Work Quilts
Old Time Patch-Work
Home-Made Rag Carpet
A Hit-and-Miss Rug
A Brown and Tan Rug
A Circular Rug
Imitation of Navajo Blankets
Rug With Design
Rug With Swastika in Centre
Home Manufactured Silk Prayer Rug
Elizabeth Schmidt—"Laughing Water"
Articles in the Old Parlor Before It Was Modernized
Other Articles in the Old Parlor Before It Was
Modernized
Palisades, or Narrows of Nockamixon
The Canal at the Narrows
The Narrows, or Pennsylvania Palisades
Top Rock
Ringing Rocks of Bucks County, Pennsylvania
High Falls

Big Rock at Rocky Dale
The Old Towpath at the Narrows
Old Earthenware Dish
Sgraffito Plate
Old Plates Found in Aunt Sarah's Corner Cupboard
Old Style Lamps
Old Taufschien
The Old Store on Ridge Road
Catching Elbadritchels
Old Egg Basket at the Farm
A Potato Pretzel
Loaf of Rye Bread
A "Brod Corvel," or Bread Basket
Church Which Sheltered Liberty Bell in 1777-78
Liberty Bell Tablet
Durham Cave
The Woodland Stream
Polly Schmidt
An Old-Fashioned Bucks County Bake-Oven

MARY

MARY AT THE FARM

AND BOOKS OF RECIPES

CHAPTER I.
MARY'S LETTERS RECEIVED AT CLEAR SPRING FARM.

One morning in early spring, John Landis, a
Pennsylvania German farmer living in
Schuggenhaus Township, Bucks County, on
opening his mail box, fastened to a tree at the
crossroads (for the convenience of rural mail
carriers) found one letter for his wife Sarah, the
envelope addressed in the well-known
handwriting of her favorite niece, Mary
Midleton, of Philadelphia.
A letter being quite an event at "Clear Spring" farm, he hastened with it to
the house, finding "Aunt Sarah," as she was called by every one (Great
Aunt to Mary), in the cheery farm house kitchen busily engaged kneading
sponge for a loaf of rye bread, which she carefully deposited on a well-
floured linen cloth, in a large bowl for the final raising.
Carefully adjusting her glasses more securely over the bridge of her nose,
she turned at the sound of her husband's footsteps. Seeing the letter in his
hand she inquired: "What news, John?" Quickly opening the letter handed
her, she, after a hasty perusal, gave one of the whimsical smiles peculiar to
her and remarked decisively, with a characteristic nod of her head: "John,
Mary Midleton intends to marry, else why, pray tell me, would she write of
giving up teaching her kindergarten class in the city, to spend the summer
with us on the farm learning, she writes, to keep house, cook, economize
and to learn how to get the most joy and profit from life?"
"Well, well! Mary is a dear girl, why should she not think of marrying?"
replied her husband; "she is nineteen. Quite time, I think, she should learn
housekeeping—something every young girl should know. We should hear
of fewer divorces and a less number of failures of men in business, had their

wives been trained before marriage to be good, thrifty, economical
housekeepers and, still more important, good homemakers. To be a
helpmate in every sense of the word is every woman's duty, I think, when
her husband works early and late to procure the means to provide for her
comforts and luxuries and a competency for old age. Write Mary to come at
once, and under your teaching she may, in time, become as capable a
housekeeper and as good a cook as her Aunt Sarah; and, to my way of
thinking, there is none better, my dear."
Praise from her usually reticent husband never failed to deepen the tint of
pink on Aunt Sarah's still smooth, unwrinkled, youthful looking face, made
more charming by being framed in waves of silvery gray hair, on which the
"Hand of Time," in passing, had sprinkled some of the dust from the road of
life.
In size, Sarah Landis was a little below medium height, rather stout, or
should I say comfortable, and matronly looking; very erect for a woman of
her age. Her bright, expressive, gray eyes twinkled humorously when she
talked. She had developed a fine character by her years of unselfish
devotion to family and friends. Her splendid sense of humor helped her to
overcome difficulties, and her ability to rise above her environment,
however discouraging their conditions, prevented her from being unhappy
or depressed by the small annoyances met daily. She never failed to find joy
and pleasure in the faithful performance of daily tasks, however small or
insignificant. Aunt Sarah attributed her remarkably fine, clear complexion,
seldom equalled in a woman of her years, to good digestion and excellent
health; her love of fresh air, fruit and clear spring water. She usually drank
from four to five tumblerfuls of water a day. She never ate to excess, and
frequently remarked: "I think more people suffer from over-eating than
from insufficient food." An advocate of deep breathing, she spent as much
of her time as she could spare from household duties in the open air.

AUNT SARAH

Sarah Landis was not what one would call beautiful, but good and whole-
souled looking. To quote her husband: "To me Sarah never looks so sweet
and homelike when all 'fussed up' in her best black dress on special

occasions, as she does when engaged in daily household tasks around home,
in her plain, neat, gray calico dress."
This dress was always covered with a large, spotlessly clean, blue
gingham apron of small broken check, and she was very particular about
having a certain-sized check. The apron had a patch pocket, which usually
contained small twists or little wads of cord, which, like "The Old Ladies in
Cranford," she picked up and saved for a possible emergency.
One of Aunt Sarah's special economies was the saving of twine and paper
bags. The latter were always neatly folded, when emptied, and placed in a
cretonne bag made for that purpose, hanging in a convenient corner of the
kitchen.
Aunt Sarah's gingham apron was replaced afternoons by one made from
fine, Lonsdale cambric, of ample proportions, and on special occasions she
donned a hemstitched linen apron, inset at upper edge of hem with
crocheted lace insertion, the work of her own deft fingers. Aunt Sarah's
aprons, cut straight, on generous lines, were a part of her individuality.
Sarah Landis declared: "Happiness consists in giving and in serving
others," and she lived up to the principles she advocated. She frequently
quoted from the "Sons of Martha," by Kipling:

"Lift ye the stone or cleave the wood, to make a path more fair or flat,
Not as a ladder from earth to heaven, not as an altar to any creed,
But simple service, simply given, to his own kind in their human need."

"I think this so fine," said Aunt Sarah, "and so true a sentiment that I am
almost compelled to forgive Kipling for saying 'The female of the species is
more deadly than the male.'"
Aunt Sarah's goodness was reflected in her face and in the tones of her
voice, which were soft and low, yet very decided. She possessed a clear,
sweet tone, unlike the slow, peculiar drawl often aiding with the rising
inflection peculiar to many country folk among the "Pennsylvania
Germans."

The secret of Aunt Sarah's charm lay in her goodness. Being always
surrounded by a cheery atmosphere, she benefited all with whom she came
in contact. She took delight in simple pleasures. She had the power of
extracting happiness from the common, little every-day tasks and frequently
remarked, "Don't strive to live without work, but to find more joy in your
work." Her opinions were highly respected by every one in the
neighborhood, and, being possessed of an unselfish disposition, she thought
and saw good in every one; brought out the best in one, and made one long
to do better, just to gain her approval, if for no higher reward. Sarah Landis
was a loyal friend and one would think the following, by Mrs. Craik,
applied to her:
"Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort, of feeling safe with a person
—having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them
all right out, just as they are—chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful
hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping and then with the
breath of kindness blow the rest away."
She was never so happy as when doing an act of kindness for some poor
unfortunate, and often said. "If 'twere not for God and good people, what
would become of the unfortunate?" and thought like George McDonald, "If
I can put one touch of rosy sunset into the life of any man or woman (I
should add child) I shall feel that I have worked with God."
Aunt Sarah's sweet, lovable face was the first beheld by many a little,
new-born infant; her voice, the first to hush its wailing cries as she cuddled
it up to her motherly breast, and oft, with loving hands, softly closed the
lids over eyes no longer able to see; whom the Gracious Master had taken
into His keeping.
One day I overheard Aunt Sarah quote to a sorrowing friend these fine,
true lines from Longfellow's "Resignation": "Let us be patient, these severe
afflictions not from the ground arise, but celestial benedictions assume the
dark disguise."

THE OLD SPRING HOUSE

CHAPTER II.
MARY'S ARRIVAL AT THE FARM.

The day preceding that of Mary's arrival at the farm was a busy one for
Aunt Sarah, who, since early morning, had been preparing the dishes she
knew Mary enjoyed. Pans of the whitest, flakiest rolls, a large loaf of
sweetest nut-brown, freshly-baked "graham bread," of which Mary was
especially fond; an array of crumb-cakes and pies of every description
covered the well-scrubbed table in the summer kitchen, situated a short
distance from the house. A large, yellow earthenware bowl on the table
contained a roll of rich, creamy "smier kase" just as it had been turned from
the muslin bag, from which the "whey" had dripped over night; ready to be
mixed with cream for the supper table. Pats of sweet, freshly-churned
butter, buried in clover blossoms, were cooling in the old spring-house near
by.
The farm house was guiltless of dust from cellar to attic. Aunt Sarah was
a model housekeeper; she accomplished wonders, yet never appeared tired
or flurried as less systematic housekeepers often do, who, with greater
expenditure of energy, often accomplish less work. She took no unnecessary
steps; made each one count, yet never appeared in haste to finish her work.
Said Aunt Sarah, "The lack of system in housework is what makes it
drudgery. If young housekeepers would sit down and plan their work, then
do it, they would save time and labor. When using the fire in the range for
ironing or other purposes, use the oven for preparing dishes of food which
require long, slow cooking, like baked beans, for instance. Bake a cake or a
pudding, or a pan of quickly-made corn pone to serve with baked beans, for
a hearty meal on a cold winter day. A dish of rice pudding placed in the
oven requires very little attention, and when baked may be placed on ice
until served. If this rule be followed, the young housewife will be surprised

to find how much easier will be the task of preparing a meal later in the day,
especially in hot weather."

The day following, John Landis drove to the railroad station, several
miles distant, to meet his niece. As Mary stepped from the train into the
outstretched arms of her waiting Uncle, many admiring glances followed
the fair, young girl. Her tan-gold naturally wavy, masses of hair rivaled
ripened grain. The sheen of it resembled corn silk before it has been
browned and crinkled by the sun. Her eyes matched in color the exquisite,
violet-blue blossoms of the chicory weed. She possessed a rather large
mouth, with upturned corners, which seemed made for smiles, and when
once you had been charmed with them, she had made an easy conquest of
you forever. There was a sweet, winning personality about Mary which was
as impossible to describe as to resist. One wondered how so much adorable
sweetness could be embodied in one small maid. But Mary's sweetness of
expression and charming manner covered a strong will and tenacity of
purpose one would scarcely have believed possible, did they not have an
intimate knowledge of the young girl's disposition. Her laugh, infectious,
full of the joy of living, the vitality of youth and perfect health and
happiness, reminded one of the lines: "A laugh is just like music for making
living sweet."
Seated beside her Uncle in the carriage, Mary was borne swiftly through
the town out into the country. It was one of those preternaturally quiet,
sultry days when the whole universe appears lifeless and inert, free from
loud noise, or sound of any description, days which we occasionally have in
early Spring or Summer, when the stillness is oppressive.
Frequently at such times there is borne to the nostrils the faint, stifling
scent of burning brush, indicating that land is being cleared by the
forehanded, thrifty farmer for early planting. Often at such times, before a
shower, may be distinctly heard the faintest twitter and "peep, peep" of
young sparrows, the harsh "caw, caw" of the crow, and the song of the
bobolink, poised on the swaying branch of a tall tree, the happiest bird of
Spring; the dozy, drowsy hum of bees; the answering call of lusty young
chanticleers, and the satisfied cackle of laying hens and motherly old
biddies, surrounded by broods of downy, greedy little newly-hatched

chicks. The shrill whistle of a distant locomotive startles one with its clear,
resonant intonation, which on a less quiet day would pass unnoticed. Mary,
with the zest of youth, enjoyed to the full the change from the past months
of confinement in a city school, and missed nothing of the beauty of the
country and the smell of the good brown earth, as her Uncle drove swiftly
homeward.
"Uncle John," said Mary, "'tis easy to believe God made the country."
"Yes," rejoined her Uncle, "the country is good enough for me."
"With the exception of the one day in the month, when you attend the
'Shriners' meeting' in the city," mischievously supplemented Mary, who
knew her Uncle's liking for the Masonic Lodge of which he was a member,
"and," she continued, "I brought you a picture for your birthday, which we
shall celebrate tomorrow. The picture will please you, I know. It is entitled,
'I Love to Love a Mason, 'Cause a Mason Never Tells.'"
They passed cultivated farms. Inside many of the rail fences, inclosing
fields of grain or clover, were planted numberless sour cherry trees, snowy
with bloom, the ground underneath white with fallen petals. The air was
sweet with the perfume of the half-opened buds on the apple trees in the
near-by orchards and rose-like pink blossoms of the "flowering" crab-apple,
in the door yards. Swiftly they drove through cool, green, leafy woods,
crossing a wooden bridge spanning a small stream, so shallow that the
stones at the bottom were plainly to be seen. A loud splash, as the sound of
carriage wheels broke the uninterrupted silence, and a commotion in the
water gave evidence of the sudden disappearance of several green-backed
frogs, sunning themselves on a large, moss-grown rock, projecting above
the water's edge; from shady nooks and crevices peeped clusters of early
white violets; graceful maidenhair ferns, and hardier members of the fern
family, called "Brake," uncurled their graceful, sturdy fronds from the
carpet of green moss and lichen at the base of tree trunks, growing along the
water's edge. Partly hidden by rocks along the bank of the stream, nestled a
few belated cup-shaped anemones or "Wind Flowers," from which most of
the petals had blown, they being one of the earliest messengers of Spring.
Through the undergrowth in the woods, in passing, could be seen the small
buds of the azalea or wild honeysuckle, "Sheep's Laurel," the deep pink

buds on the American Judas tree, trailing vines of "Tea Berry," and beneath
dead leaves one caught an occasional glimpse of fragrant, pink arbutus. In
marshy places beside the creek, swaying in the wind from slender stems,
grew straw-colored, bell-shaped blossoms of "Adder's Tongue" or "Dog
Tooth Violet," with their mottled green, spike-shaped leaves. In the shadow
of a large rock grew dwarf huckleberry bushes, wild strawberry vines, and
among grasses of many varieties grew patches of white and pink-tinted
Alsatian clover.
Leaving behind the spicy, fragrant, "woodsy" smell of wintergreen, birch
and sassafras, and the faint, sweet scent of the creamy, wax-like blossoms
of "Mandrake" or May apple, peeping from beneath large, umbrella-like,
green leaves they emerged at last from the dim, cool shadows of the woods
into the warm, bright sunlight again.
Almost before Mary realized it, the farm house could be seen in the
distance, and her Uncle called her attention to his new, red barn, which had
been built since her last visit to the farm, and which, in her Uncle's
estimation, was of much greater importance than the house.
Mary greeted with pleasure the old landmarks so familiar to her on former
visits. They passed the small, stone school house at the crossroads, and in a
short time the horses turned obediently into the lane leading to the barn a
country lane in very truth, a tangle of blackberry vines, wild rose bushes, by
farmers called "Pasture Roses," interwoven with bushes of sumach, wild
carrots and golden rod.
Mary insisted that her Uncle drive directly to the barn, as was his usual
custom, while she was warmly welcomed at the farm house gate by her
Aunt. As her Uncle led away the horses, he said, "I will soon join you,
Mary, 'to break of our bread and eat of our salt,' as they say in the 'Shrine.'"
On their way to the house, Mary remarked: "I am so glad we reached here
before dusk. The country is simply beautiful! Have you ever noticed, Aunt
Sarah, what a symphony in green is the yard? Look at the buds on the
maples and lilacs—a faint yellow green—and the blue-green pine tree near
by; the leaves of the German iris are another shade; the grass, dotted with
yellow dandelions, and blue violets; the straight, grim, reddish-brown stalks
of the peonies before the leaves have unfolded, all roofed over with the

blossom-covered branches of pear, apple and 'German Prune' trees. Truly,
this must resemble Paradise!"
"Yes," assented her Aunt, "I never knew blossoms to remain on the pear
trees so long a time. We have had no 'blossom shower' as yet to scatter
them, but there will be showers tonight, I think, or I am no prophet. I feel
rain in the atmosphere, and Sibylla said a few moments ago she heard a
'rain bird' in the mulberry tree."
"Aunt Sarah," inquired Mary, "is the rhubarb large enough to use?"
"Yes, indeed, we have baked rhubarb pies and have had a surfeit of
dandelion salad or 'Salat,' as our neighbors designate it. Your Uncle calls
'dandelion greens' the farmers' spring tonic; that and 'celadine,' that plant
you see growing by the side of the house. Later in the season it bears small,
yellow flowers not unlike a very small buttercup blossom, and it is said to
be an excellent remedy for chills and fevers, and it tastes almost as bitter as
quinine. There are bushels of dandelion blossoms, some of which we shall
pick tomorrow, and from them make dandelion wine."
"And what use will my thrifty Aunt make of the blue violets?"
mischievously inquired Mary.
"The violets," replied her Aunt, "I shall dig up carefully with some earth
adhering to their roots and place them in a glass bowl for a centrepiece on
the table for my artistic and beauty-loving niece; and if kept moist, you will
be surprised at the length of time they will remain 'a thing of beauty' if not
'a joy forever.' And later, Mary, from them I'll teach you to make violet
beads."
"Aunt Sarah, notice that large robin endeavoring to pull a worm from the
ground. Do you suppose the same birds return here from the South every
Summer?"
"Certainly, I do."
"That old mulberry tree, from the berries of which you made such
delicious pies and marmalade last Summer, is it dead?"
"No; only late about getting its Spring outfit of leaves."

CHAPTER III.
SCHUGGENHAUS TOWNSHIP.

"Schuggenhaus," said Sarah Landis, speaking to her niece, Mary
Midleton, "is one of the largest and most populous townships in Bucks
County, probably so named by the early German settlers, some of whom, I
think, were my father's ancestors, as they came originally from
Zweibrucken, Germany, and settled in Schuggenhaus Township.
Schuggenhaus is one of the most fertile townships in Bucks County and one
of the best cultivated; farming is our principal occupation, and the
population of the township today is composed principally of the
descendants of well-to-do Germans, frequently called 'Pennsylvania
Dutch.'"
"I have often heard them called by that name," said Mary. "Have you
forgotten, Aunt Sarah, you promised to tell me something interesting about
the first red clover introduced in Bucks County?"
"Red clover," replied her Aunt, "that having bright, crimson-pink heads, is
the most plentiful and the most common variety of clover; but knowing
how abundantly it grows in different parts of the country at the present time,
one would scarcely have believed, in olden times, that it would ever be so
widely distributed as it now is.
"One reason clover does so well in this country is that the fertilization of
the clover is produced by pollenation by the busy little bumble-bee, who
carries the pollen from blossom to blossom, and clover is dependent upon
these small insects for fertilization, as without them clover would soon die
out."
"I admire the feathery, fuzzy, pink-tipped, rabbit-foot clover," said Mary;
"it is quite fragrant, and usually covered with butterflies. It makes such very
pretty bouquets when you gather huge bunches of it."

THE OLD MILL WHEEL

"No, Mary, I think you are thinking of Alsatian clover, which is similar to
white clover. The small, round heads are cream color, tinged with pink; it is
very fragrant and sweet and grows along the roadside and, like the common
white clover, is a favorite with bees. The yellow hop clover we also find
along the roadside. As the heads of clover mature, they turn yellowish
brown and resemble dried hops; sometimes yellow, brown and tan blossoms
are seen on one branch. The cultivation of red clover was introduced here a
century ago, and when in bloom the fields attracted great attention. Being
the first ever grown in this part of Bucks County, people came for miles to
look at it, the fence around the fields some days being lined with spectators,
I have been told by my grandfather. I remember when a child nothing
appeared to me more beautiful than my father's fields of flax; a mass of
bright blue flowers. I also remember the fields of broom-corn. Just think!
We made our own brooms, wove linen from the flax raised on our farm and
made our own tallow candles. Mary, from what a thrifty and hard-working
lot of ancestors you are descended! You inherit from your mother your love

of work and from your father your love of books. Your father's uncle was a
noted Shakespearean scholar."
Many old-time industries are passing away. Yet Sarah Landis, was a
housewife of the old school and still cooked apple butter, or "Lodt Varrik,"
as the Germans call it; made sauerkraut and hard soap, and naked old-
fashioned "German" rye bread on the hearth, which owed its excellence not
only to the fact of its being hearth baked but to the rye flour being ground in
an old mill in a near-by town, prepared by the old process of grinding
between mill-stones instead of the more modern roller process. This picture
of the old mill, taken by Fritz Schmidt, shows it is not artistic, but, like most
articles of German manufacture, the mill was built more for its usefulness
than to please the eye.

THE OLD MILL

"Aunt Sarah, what is pumpernickel?" inquired Mary, "is it like rye
bread?"

"No, my dear, not exactly, it is a dark-colored bread, used in some parts of
Germany. Professor Schmidt tells me the bread is usually composed of a
mixture of barley flour and rye flour. Some I have eaten looks very much
like our own brown bread. Pumpernickel is considered a very wholesome
bread by the Germans—and I presume one might learn to relish it, but I
should prefer good, sweet, home-made rye bread. I was told by an old
gentleman who came to this country from Germany when a boy, that
pumpernickel was used in the German army years ago, and was somewhat
similar to 'hard tack,' furnished our soldiers in the Civil War. But I cannot
vouch for the truth of this assertion."
"Aunt Sarah," said Mary later, "Frau Schmidt tells me the Professor sends
his rye to the mill and requests that every part of it be ground without
separating—making what he calls 'whole rye flour,' and from this Frau
Schmidt bakes wholesome, nutritious bread which they call 'pumpernickel,'
She tells me she uses about one-third of this 'whole rye flour' to two-thirds
white bread flour when baking bread, and she considers bread made from
this whole grain more wholesome and nutritious than the bread made from
our fine rye flour."

CHAPTER IV.
JOHN LANDIS.

The Bucks County farmer, John Landis, rather more scholarly in
appearance than men ordinarily found in agricultural districts, was
possessed of an adust complexion, caused by constant exposure to wind and
weather; tall and spare, without an ounce of superfluous fat; energetic, and
possessed of remarkable powers of endurance. He had a kindly, benevolent
expression; his otherwise plain face was redeemed by fine, expressive
brown eyes. Usually silent and preoccupied, and almost taciturn, yet he
possessed a fund of dry humor. An old-fashioned Democrat, his wife was a
Republican. He usually accompanied Aunt Sarah to her church, the
Methodist, although he was a member of the German Reformed, and
declared he had changed his religion to please her, but change his politics,
never. A member of the Masonic Lodge, his only diversion was an
occasional trip to the city with a party of the "boys" to attend a meeting of
the "Shriners."
Aunt Sarah protested. "The idea, John, at your age, being out so late at
night and returning from the city on the early milk train the following
morning, and then being still several miles from home. It's scandalous!"
He only chuckled to himself; and what the entertainment had been, which
was provided at Lulu Temple, and which he had so thoroughly enjoyed, was
left to her imagination. His only remark when questioned was: "Sarah,
you're not in it. You are not a 'Shriner.'" And as John had in every other
particular fulfilled her ideal of what constitutes a good husband, Sarah, like
the wise woman she was, allowed the subject to drop.
A good, practical, progressive farmer, John Landis constantly read,
studied and pondered over the problem of how to produce the largest results
at least cost of time and labor. His crops were skillfully planted in rich soil,
carefully cultivated and usually harvested earlier than those of his

neighbors. One summer he raised potatoes so large that many of them
weighed one pound each, and new potatoes and green peas, fresh from the
garden, invariably appeared on Aunt Sarah's table the first of July, and
sometimes earlier. I have known him to raise cornstalks which reached a
height of thirteen feet, which were almost equaled by his wife's sunflower
stalks, which usually averaged nine feet in height.
Aunt Sarah, speaking one day to Mary, said: "Your Uncle John is an
unusually silent man. I have heard him remark that when people talk
continuously they are either very intelligent or tell untruths." He, happening
to overhear her remark, quickly retorted:

"The man who speaks a dozen tongues,
When all is said and done,
Don't hold a match to him who knows
How to keep still in one."

When annoyed at his wife's talkativeness, her one fault in her husband's
eyes, if he thought she had a fault, he had a way of saying, "Alright, Sarah,
Alright," as much as to say "that is final; you have said enough," in his
peculiar, quick manner of speaking, which Aunt Sarah never resented, he
being invariably kind and considerate in other respects.
John Landis was a successful farmer because he loved his work, and
found joy in it. While not unmindful of the advantages possessed by the
educated farmer of the present day, he said, "'Tis not college lore our boys
need so much as practical education to develop their efficiency. While much
that we eat and wear comes out of the ground, we should have more
farmers, the only way to lower the present high cost of living, which is such
a perplexing problem to the housewife. There is almost no limit to what
might be accomplished by some of our bright boys should they make
agriculture a study. Luther Burbank says, 'To add but one kernel of corn to
each ear grown in this country in a single year would increase the supply
five million bushels.'"

CHAPTER V.
THE OLD FARM HOUSE AND GARDEN.

Old Corn Crib The old The New Barn
unpainted farm
house, built of logs
a century ago, had
changed in the
passing years to a
grayish tint. An
addition had been
built to the house
several years before Aunt Sarah's occupancy,
The sober hue of the house harmonized with the great, gnarled old trunk of
the meadow willow near-by. Planted when the house was built, it spread its
great branches protectingly over it. A wild clematis growing at the foot of
the tree twined its tendrils around the massive trunk until in late summer
they had become an inseparable part of it, almost covering it with feathery
blossoms.
Near by stood an antique arbor, covered with thickly-clustering vines, in
season bending with the weight of "wild-scented" grapes, their fragrance
mingling with the odor of "Creek Mint" growing near by a small streamlet
and filling the air with a delicious fragrance. The mint had been used in
earlier years by Aunt Sarah's grandfather as a beverage which he preferred
to any other.
From a vine clambering up the grape arbor trellies, in the fall of the year,
hung numerous orange-colored balsam apples, which opened, when ripe,
disclosing bright crimson interior and seeds. These apples, Aunt Sarah
claimed, if placed in alcohol and applied externally, possessed great
medicinal value as a specific for rheumatism.

THE OLD FARM HOUSE

A short distance from the house stood the newly-built red barn, facing the
pasture lot. On every side stretched fields which, in summer, waved with
wheat, oats, rye and buckwheat, and the corn crib stood close by, ready for
the harvest to fill it to overflowing. Beside the farm house door stood a tall,
white oleander, planted in a large, green-painted wooden tub. Near by, in a
glazed earthenware pot, grew the old-fashioned lantana plant, covered with
clusters of tiny blossoms, of various shades of orange, red and pink.
In flower beds outlined by clam shells which had been freshly
whitewashed blossomed fuchsias, bleeding hearts, verbenas, dusty millers,
sweet clove-scented pinks, old-fashioned, dignified, purple digitalis or
foxglove, stately pink Princess Feather, various brilliant-hued zinnias, or
more commonly called "Youth and Old Age," and as gayly colored, if more
humble and lowly, portulacas; the fragrant white, star-like blossoms of the
nicotiana, or "Flowering Tobacco," which, like the yellow primrose, are
particularly fragrant at sunset. Geraniums of every hue, silver-leaved and
rose-scented; yellow marigolds and those with brown, velvety petals; near
by the pale green and white-mottled leaves of the plant called "Snow on the
Mountain" and in the centre of one of the large, round flower beds, grew
sturdy "Castor Oil Beans," their large, copper-bronze leaves almost
covering the tiny blue forget-me-nots growing beneath. Near the flower bed

grew a thrifty bush of pink-flowering almonds; not far distant grew a
spreading "shrub" bush, covered with fragrant brown buds, and beside it a
small tree of pearly-white snowdrops.
Sarah Landis loved the wholesome, earthy odors of growing plants and
delighted in her flowers, particularly the perennials, which were planted
promiscuously all over the yard. I have frequently heard her quote: "One is
nearer God's heart in a garden than any place else on earth." And she would
say, "I love the out-of-door life, in touch with the earth; the natural life of
man or woman." Inside the fence of the kitchen garden were planted
straight rows of both red and yellow currants, and several gooseberry
bushes. In one corner of the garden, near the summer kitchen, stood a large
bush of black currants, from the yellow, sweet-scented blossoms of which
Aunt Sarah's bees, those "Heaven instructed mathematicians," sucked
honey. Think of Aunt Sarah's buckwheat cakes, eaten with honey made
from currant, clover, buckwheat and dandelion blossoms!
Her garden was second to none in Bucks County. She planted tomato
seeds in boxes and placed them in a sunny window, raising her plants early;
hence she had ripe tomatoes before any one else in the neighborhood. Her
peas were earlier also, and her beets and potatoes were the largest; her corn
the sweetest; and, as her asparagus bed was always well salted, her
asparagus was the finest to be had.
Through the centre of the garden patch, on either side the walk, were large
flower beds, a blaze of brilliant color from early Spring, when the daffodils
blossomed, until frost killed the dahlias, asters, scarlet sage, sweet
Williams, Canterbury bells, pink and white snapdragon, spikes of perennial,
fragrant, white heliotrope; blue larkspur, four o'clocks, bachelor buttons and
many other dear, old-fashioned flowers. The dainty pink, funnel-shaped
blossoms of the hardy swamp "Rose Mallow'" bloomed the entire Summer,
the last flowers to be touched by frost, vying in beauty with the pink
monthly roses planted near by.
Children who visited Aunt Sarah delighted in the small Jerusalem cherry
tree, usually covered with bright, scarlet berries, which was planted near the
veranda, and they never tired pinching the tiny leaves of the sensitive plant

to see them quickly droop, as if dead, then slowly unfold and straighten as
if a thing of life.
Visitors to the farm greatly admired the large, creamy-white lily-like
blossoms of the datura. Farthest from the house were the useful herb beds,
filled with parsley, hoarhound, sweet marjoram, lavender, saffron, sage,
sweet basil, summer savory and silver-striped rosemary or "old man," as it
was commonly called by country folk.
Tall clusters of phlox, a riot of color in midsummer, crimson-eyed, white
and rose-colored blossoms topping the tall stems, and clusters of brilliant-
red bergamot near by had been growing, from time immemorial, a cluster of
green and white-striped grass, without which no door yard in this section of
Bucks County was considered complete in olden times. Near by, silvery
plumes of pampas grass gently swayed on their reed-like stems. Even the
garden was not without splashes of color, where, between rows of
vegetables, grew pale, pink-petaled poppies, seeming to have scarcely a
foothold in the rich soil. But the daintiest, sweetest bed of all, and the one
that Mary enjoyed most, was where the lilies of the valley grew in the shade
near a large, white lilac bush. Here, on a rustic bench beneath an old apple
tree, stitching on her embroidery, she dreamed happy dreams of her absent
lover, and planned for the life they were to live together some day, in the
home he was striving to earn for her by his own manly exertions; and she
assiduously studied and pondered over Aunt Sarah's teaching and counsel,
knowing them to be wise and good.
A short distance from the farm house, where the old orchard sloped down
to the edge of the brook, grew tall meadow rue, with feathery clusters of
green and white flowers; and the green, gold-lined, bowl-shaped blossoms
of the "Cow Lily," homely stepsisters of the fragrant, white pond lily,
surrounded by thick, waxy, green leaves, lazily floated on the surface of the
water from long stems in the bed of the creek, and on the bank a carpet was
formed by golden-yellow, creeping buttercups.
In the side yard grew two great clumps of iris, or, as it is more commonly
called, "Blue Flag." Its blossoms, dainty as rare orchids, with lily-like,
violet-veined petals of palest-tinted mauve and purple.

On the sunny side of the old farm house, facing the East, where at early
morn the sun shone bright and warm, grew Aunt Sarah's pansies, with
velvety, red-brown petals, golden-yellow and dark purple. They were truly
"Heart's Ease," gathered with a lavish hand, and sent as gifts to friends who
were ill. The more she picked the faster they multiplied, and came to many
a sick bed "sweet messengers of Spring."
If Aunt Sarah had a preference for one particular flower, 'twas the rose,
and they well repaid the time and care she lavished on them. She had pale-
tinted blush roses, with hearts of deepest pink; rockland and prairie and
hundred-leaf roses, pink and crimson ramblers, but the most highly-prized
roses of her collection were an exquisite, deep salmon-colored "Marquis De
Sinety" and an old-fashioned pink moss rose, which grew beside a large
bush of mock-orange, the creamy blossoms of the latter almost as fragrant
as real orange blossoms of the sunny Southland. Not far distant, planted in a
small bed by themselves, grew old-fashioned, sweet-scented, double
petunias, ragged, ripple, ruffled corollas of white, with splotches of brilliant
crimson and purple, their slender stems scarcely strong enough to support
the heavy blossoms.
In one of the sunniest spots in the old garden grew Aunt Sarah's latest
acquisition. "The Butterfly Bush," probably so named on account of its
graceful stems, covered with spikes of tiny, lilac-colored blossoms, over
which continually hovered large, gorgeously-hued butterflies, vying with
the flowers in brilliancy of color, from early June until late Summer.
Aunt Sarah's sunflowers, or "Sonnen Blume," as she liked to call them,
planted along the garden fence to feed chickens and birds alike, were a sight
worth seeing. The birds generally confiscated the larger portion of seeds. A
pretty sight it was to see a flock of wild canaries, almost covering the tops
of the largest sunflowers, busily engaged picking out the rich, oily seeds.
Aunt Sarah loved the golden flowers, which always appeared to be
nodding to the sun, and her sunflowers were particularly fine, some being
as much as fifty inches in circumference.
A bouquet of the smaller ones was usually to be seen in a quaint, old,
blue-flowered, gray jar on the farm house veranda in Summertime. Earlier
in the season blossoms of the humble artichoke, which greatly resemble

small sunflowers, or large yellow daisies, filled the jar. Failing either of
these, she gathered large bouquets of golden-rod or wild carrot blossoms,
both of which grew in profusion along the country lanes and roadside near
the farm. But the old gray jar never held a bouquet more beautiful than the
one of bright, blue "fringed gentians," gathered by Aunt Sarah in the Fall of
the year, several miles distant from the farm.

CHAPTER VI.
MARY CONFIDES IN AUNT SARAH AND GIVES HER
VIEWS ON SUFFRAGE FOR WOMEN.

"There's no deny'n women are foolish,
God A'mighty made them to match the men."

A short time after her arrival at the farm Mary poured into the
sympathetic ear of Aunt Sarah her hopes and plans. Her lover, Ralph
Jackson, to whom she had become engaged the past Winter, held a position
with the Philadelphia Electric Company, and was studying hard outside
working hours. His ambition was to become an electrical engineer. He was
getting fair wages, and wished Mary to marry him at once. She confessed
she loved Ralph too well to marry him, ignorant as she was of economical
housekeeping and cooking.
Mary, early left an orphan, had studied diligently to fit herself for a
kindergarten teacher, so she would be capable of earning her own living on
leaving school, which accounted for her lack of knowledge of housework,
cooking, etc.
Aunt Sarah, loving Mary devotedly, and knowing the young man of her
choice to be clean, honest and worthy, promised to do all in her power to
make their dream of happiness come true. Learning from Mary that Ralph
was thin and pale from close confinement, hard work and study, and of his
intention of taking a short vacation, she determined he should spend it on
the farm, where she would be able to "mother him."
"You acted sensibly, Mary," said her Aunt, "in refusing to marry Ralph at
the present time, realizing your lack of knowledge of housework and
inability to manage a home. Neither would you know how to spend the
money provided by him economically and wisely, and, in this age of
individual efficiency, a business knowledge of housekeeping is almost as

important in making a happy home as is love. I think it quite as necessary
that a woman who marries should understand housekeeping in all its varied
branches as that the man who marries should understand his trade or
profession; for, without the knowledge of means to gain a livelihood
(however great his love for a woman), how is the man to hold that woman's
love and affection unless he is able by his own exertions to provide her with
necessities, comforts, and, perhaps, in later years, luxuries? And in return,
the wife should consider it her duty and pleasure to know how to do her
work systematically; learn the value of different foods and apply the
knowledge gained daily in preparing them; study to keep her husband in the
best of health, physically and mentally. Then will his efficiency be greater
and he will be enabled to do his 'splendid best' in whatever position in life
he is placed, be he statesman or hod-carrier. What difference, if an honest
heart beat beneath a laborer's hickory shirt, or one of fine linen? 'One hand,
if it's true, is as good as another, no matter how brawny or rough.' Mary, do
not think the trivial affairs of the home beneath your notice, and do not
imagine any work degrading which tends to the betterment of the home.
Remember, 'Who sweeps a room as for Thy law, makes that and the action
fine.'
"Our lives are all made up of such small, commonplace things and this is
such a commonplace old world, Mary. 'The commonplace earth and the
commonplace sky make up the commonplace day,' and 'God must have
loved common people, or He would not have made so many of them.' And,
what if we are commonplace? We cannot all be artists, poets and sculptors.
Yet, how frequently we see people in commonplace surroundings,
possessing the soul of an artist, handicapped by physical disability or lack
of means! We are all necessary in the great, eternal plan. 'Tis not good deeds
alone for which we receive our reward, but for the performance of duty well
done, in however humble circumstances our lot is cast. Is it not Lord
Houghton who says: 'Do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common
work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest
things of life.' I consider a happy home in the true sense of the word one of
the greatest of blessings. How important is the work of the housemother and
homemaker who creates the home! There can be no happiness there unless
the wheels of the domestic machinery are oiled by loving care and kindness
to make them run smoothly, and the noblest work a woman can do is

training and rearing her children. Suffrage, the right of woman to vote; will
it not take women from the home? I am afraid the home will then suffer in
consequence. Will man accord woman the same reverence she has received
in the past? Should she have equal political rights? A race lacking respect
for women would never advance socially or politically. I think women
could not have a more important part in the government of the land than in
rearing and educating their children to be good, useful citizens. In what
nobler work could women engage than in work to promote the comfort and
well-being of the ones they love in the home? I say, allow men to make the
laws, as God and nature planned. I think women should keep to the sphere
God made them for—the home. Said Gladstone, 'Woman is the most perfect
when most womanly.' There is nothing, I think, more despicable than a
masculine, mannish woman, unless it be an effeminate, sissy man. Dr.
Clarke voiced my sentiments when he said: 'Man is not superior to woman,
nor woman to man. The relation of the sexes is one of equality, not of better
or worse, of higher and lower. The loftiest ideal of humanity demands that
each shall be perfect in its kind and not be hindered in its best work. The
lily is not inferior to the rose, nor the oak superior to the clover; yet the
glory of the lily is one and the glory of the oak is another, and the use of the
oak is not the use of the clover.'
"This present-day generation demands of women greater efficiency in the
home than ever before. And Mary, many of the old-time industries which I
had been accustomed to as a girl have passed away. Electricity and
numerous labor-saving devices make household tasks easier, eliminating
some altogether. When housekeeping you will find time to devote to many
important questions of the day which we old-time housekeepers never
dreamed of having. Considerable thought should be given to studying to
improve and simplify conditions of the home-life. It is your duty. Obtain
books; study food values and provide those foods which nourish the body,
instead of spending time uselessly preparing dainties to tempt a jaded
appetite. Don't spoil Ralph when you marry him. Give him good,
wholesome food, and plenty of it; but although the cooking of food takes up
much of a housekeeper's time, it is not wise to allow it to take up one's time
to the exclusion of everything else. Mary, perhaps my views are old-
fashioned. I am not a 'new woman' in any sense of the word. The new
woman may take her place beside man in the business world and prove

equally as efficient, but I do not think woman should invade man's sphere
any more than he should assume her duties."
"Aunt Sarah, I am surprised to hear you talk in that manner about
woman's sphere," replied Mary, "knowing what a success you are in the
home, and how beautifully you manage everything you undertake. I felt,
once you recognized the injustice done woman in not allowing them to
vote, you would feel differently, and since women are obliged to obey the
laws, should they not have a voice in choosing the lawmakers? When you
vote, it will not take you out of the home. You and Uncle John will merely
stop on your way to the store, and instead of Uncle John going in to write
and register what he thinks should be done and by whom it should be done,
you too will express your opinion. This will likely be twice a year. By doing
this, no woman loses her womanliness, goodness or social position, and to
these influences the vote is but another influence. I know there are many
things in connection with the right of equal suffrage with what you do not
sympathize.
"Aunt Sarah, let me tell you about a dear friend of mine who taught
school with me in the city. Emily taught a grammar grade, and did not get
the same salary the men teachers received for doing the same work, which I
think was unfair. Emily studied and frequently heard and read about what
had been done in Colorado and other States where women vote. She got us
all interested, and the more we learned about the cause the harder we
worked for it. Emily married a nice, big, railroad man. They bought a pretty
little house in a small town, had three lovely children and were very happy.
More than ever as time passed Emily realized the need of woman's
influence in the community. It is true, I'll admit, Aunt Sarah, housekeeping
and especially home-making are the great duties of every woman, and to
provide the most wholesome, nourishing food possible for the family is the
duty of every mother, as the health, comfort and happiness of the family
depend so largely on the common sense (only another name for efficiency)
and skill of the homemaker, and the wise care and though she expends on
the preparation of wholesome, nutritious food in the home, either the work
of her own hands or prepared under her direction. You can not look after
these duties without getting outside of your home, especially when you live
like Emily, in a town where the conditions are so different from living as
you do on a farm in the country. Milk, bread and water are no longer

controlled by the woman in her home, living in cities and towns; and just
because women want to look out for their families they should have a voice
in the larger problems of municipal housekeeping. To return to Emily, she
did not bake her own bread, as you do, neither did she keep a cow, but
bought milk and bread to feed the children. Wasn't it her duty to leave the
home and see where these products were produced, and if they were
sanitary? And, knowing the problem outside the home would so materially
affect the health, and perhaps lives, of her children, she felt it her distinctive
duty to keep house in a larger sense. When the children became old enough
to attend school, Emily again took up her old interest in schools. She began
to realize how much more just it would be if an equal number of women
were on the school board."
"But what did the husband think of all this?" inquired Aunt Sarah,
dubiously.
"Oh, Tom studied the case, too, at first just to tease Emily, but he soon
became as enthusiastic as Emily. He said, 'The first time you are privileged
to vote, Emily, I will hire an automobile to take you to the polls in style.'
But poor Emily was left alone with her children last winter. Tom died of
typhoid fever. Contracted it from the bad drainage. They lived in a town not
yet safeguarded with sewerage. Now Emily is a taxpayer as well as a
mother, and she has no say as far as the town and schools are concerned.
There are many cases like that, where widows and unmarried women own
property, and they are in no way represented. And think of the thousands
and thousands of women who have no home to stay in and no babies to look
after."
"Mercy, Mary! Do stop to take breath. I never thought when I started this
subject I would have an enthusiastic suffragist with whom to deal."
"I am glad you started the subject, Aunt Sarah, because there is so much
to be said for the cause. I saw you glance at the clock and I see it is time to
prepare supper. But some day I'm going to stop that old clock and bring
down some of my books on 'Woman's Suffrage' and you'll he surprised to
hear what they have done in States where equal privileges were theirs. I am
sure 'twill not be many years before every State in the Union will give
women the right of suffrage."

After Mary retired that evening Aunt Sarah had a talk with her John,
whom she knew needed help on the farm. As a result of the conference,
Mary wrote to Ralph the following day, asking him to spend his vacation on
the farm as a "farm hand." Needless to say, the offer was gladly accepted by
Ralph, if for no other reason than to be near the girl he loved.
Ralph came the following week—"a strapping big fellow," to quote Uncle
John, being several inches over six feet.
"All you need, young chap," said Mary's Uncle, "is plenty of good,
wholesome food of Sarah's and Mary's preparing, and I'll see that you get
plenty of exercise in the fresh air to give you an appetite to enjoy it, and
you'll get a healthy coat of tan on your pale cheeks before the Summer is
ended."
Ralph Jackson, or "Jack," as he was usually called by his friends, an
orphan like Mary, came of good, old Quaker stock, his mother having died
immediately after giving birth to her son. His father, supposed to be a
wealthy contractor, died when Ralph was seventeen, having lost his fortune
through no fault of his own, leaving Ralph penniless.
Ralph Jackson possessed a good face, a square, determined jaw, sure sign
of a strong will and quick temper; these Berserker traits he inherited from
his father; rather unusual in a Quaker. He possessed a head of thick, coarse,
straight brown hair, and big honest eyes. One never doubted his word, once
it had been given. 'Twas good as his bond. This trait he inherited also from
his father, noted for his truth and integrity. Ralph was generous to a fault.
When a small boy he was known to take off his shoes and give them to a
poor little Italian (who played a violin on the street for pennies) and go
home barefoot.
Ralph loved Mary devotedly, not only because she fed him well at the
farm, as were his forefathers, the "Cave Men," fed by their mates in years
gone by, but he loved her first for her sweetness of disposition and lovable
ways; later, for her quiet unselfishness and lack of temper over trifles—so
different from himself.

When speaking to Mary of his other fine qualities, Aunt Sarah said:
"Ralph is a manly young fellow; likeable, I'll admit, but his hasty temper is
a grave fault in my eyes."
Mary replied, "Don't you think men are very queer, anyway, Aunt Sarah? I
do, and none of us is perfect."

RALPH JACKSON

To Mary, Ralph's principal charm lay in his strong, forceful way of
surmounting difficulties, she having a disposition so different. Mary had a
sweet, motherly way, seldom met with in so young a girl, and this appealed
to Ralph, he having never known "mother love," and although not at all

inclined to be sentimental, he always called Mary his "Little Mother Girl"
because of her motherly ways.

ROCKY VALLEY

"Well," continued Mary's Aunt, "a quick temper is one of the most
difficult faults to overcome that flesh is heir to, but Ralph, being a young
man of uncommon good sense, may in time curb his temper and learn to
control it, knowing that unless be does so it will handicap him in his career.
Still, a young girl will overlook many faults in the man she loves. Mary, ere
marrying, one should be sure that no love be lacking to those entering these
sacred bonds. 'Tis not for a day, but for a lifetime, to the right thinking.
Marriage, as a rule, is too lightly entered into in this Twentieth Century of
easy divorces, and but few regard matrimony in its true holy relation,
ordained by our Creator. If it be founded on the tower of enduring love and
not ephemeral passion, it is unassailable, lasting in faith and honor until
death breaks the sacred union and annuls the vows pledged at God's holy
altar."
"Well," replied Mary, as her Aunt paused to take breath, "I am sure of my
love for Ralph."
"God grant you may both be happy," responded her Aunt.

"Mary, did you ever hear this Persian proverb? You will understand why I
have so much to say after hearing it."

"'Says a proverb of Persia provoking mirth;
When this world was created by order divine.
Ten measures of talk were put down on the earth,
And the woman took nine.'"

Speaking to Mary of life on the farm one day, Ralph laughingly said: "I
am taught something new every day. Yesterday your Uncle told me it was
'time to plant corn when oak leaves were large as squirrels' ears.'" Ralph
worked like a Trojan. In a short time both his hands and face took on a
butternut hue. He became strong and robust. Mary called him her "Cave
Man," and it taxed the combined efforts of Aunt Sarah and Mary to provide
food to satisfy the ravenous appetite Mary's "Cave Man" developed. And
often, after a busy day, tired but happy, Mary fell asleep at night to the
whispering of the leaves of the Carolina poplar outside her bedroom
window.
But country life on a farm has its diversions. One of Mary's and Ralph's
greatest pleasures after a busy day at the farm was a drive about the
surrounding country early Summer evenings, frequently accompanied by
either Elizabeth or Pauline Schmidt, their nearest neighbors.
One of the first places visited by them was a freak of nature called
"Rocky Valley," situated at no great distance from the farm.

PROFESSOR SCHMIDT

CHAPTER VII
PROFESSOR SCHMIDT.

A small country place named "Five Oaks," a short distance from "Clear
Spring" farm, was owned by a very worthy and highly-educated, but rather
eccentric, German professor. He came originally from Heidelberg, but had
occupied the position of Professor of German for many years in a noted
university in a near by town. A kind, warm-hearted, old-fashioned
gentleman was the Professor; a perfect Lord Chesterfield in manners. Very
tall, thin almost to emaciation, although possessed of excellent health;
refined, scholarly looking: a rather long, hooked nose, faded, pale-blue
eyes; snowy, flowing "Lord Dundreary" whiskers, usually parted in the
centre and twisted to a point on either side with the exceedingly long, bony
fingers of his well-kept, aristocratic-looking white hands. He had an abrupt,
quick, nervous manner when speaking. A fringe of thin, white hair showed
at the lower edge of the black silk skull cap which he invariably wore about
home, and in the absence of this covering for his bald head, he would not
have looked natural to his friends.
The Professor always wore a suit of well-brushed, "shiny" black
broadcloth, and for comfort old-fashioned soft kid "gaiters," with elastic in
the sides. He was a man with whom one did not easily become acquainted,
having very decided opinions on most subjects. He possessed exquisite
taste, a passionate love of music, flowers and all things beautiful; rather
visionary, poetical and a dreamer; he was not practical, like his wife; warm-
hearted, impulsive, energetic Frau Schmidt, who was noted for her
executive abilities. I can imagine the old Professor saying as Mohammed
has been quoted as saying, "Had I two loaves, I would sell one and buy
hyacinths to feed my soul." Impulsive, generous to a fault, quick to take
offense, withal warm-hearted, kind and loyal to his friends, he was beloved
by the students, who declared that "Old Snitzy" always played fair when he
was obliged to reprimand them for their numerous pranks, which ended

sometimes, I am obliged to confess, with disastrous results. The dignified
old Professor would have raised his mild, blue, spectacled eyes in
astonishment had he been so unfortunate as to have overheard the boys, to
whom he was greatly attached, call their dignified preceptor by such a
nickname.
The Professor's little black-eyed German wife, many years younger than
her husband, had been, before her marriage, teacher of domestic science in
a female college in a large city. "She was a most excellent housekeeper," to
quote the Professor, and "a good wife and mother."
The family consisted of "Fritz," a boy of sixteen, with big, innocent,
baby-blue eyes like his father, who idolized his only son, who was alike a
joy and a torment. Fritz attended the university in a near-by town, and was
usually head of the football team. He was always at the front in any
mischief whatever, was noted for getting into scrapes innumerable through
his love of fun, yet he possessed such a good-natured, unselfish, happy-go-
lucky disposition that one always forgave him.
Black-eyed, red-cheeked Elizabeth was quick and impulsive, like her
mother. A very warm and lasting friendship sprung up between merry
Elizabeth and serious Mary Midleton during Mary's Summer on the farm,
although not at all alike in either looks or disposition, and Elizabeth was
Mary's junior by several years.
The third, last and least of the Professor's children was Pauline, or
"Pollykins," as she was always called by her brother Fritz, the seven-year-
old pet and baby of the family. A second edition of Fritz, the same innocent,
questioning, violet-blue eyes, fair complexion, a kissable little mouth and
yellow, kinky hair, she won her way into every one's heart and became
greatly attached to Mary, who was usually more patient with the little maid
(who, I must confess, was sometimes very willful) than was her sister
Elizabeth. Mary, who had never been blessed with a sister, dearly loved
children, and thought small "Polly" adorable, and never wearied telling her
marvelous fairy tales.

FRAU SCHMIDT

CHAPTER VIII.
USES OF AN OLD-FASHIONED WARDROBE.

Shortly after Mary's advent at the farm she one day said: "Aunt Sarah, the
contents of this old trunk are absolutely worthless to me; perhaps they may
be used by you for carpet rags."
"Mary Midleton!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah, in horrified tones, "you
extravagant girl. I see greater possibilities in that trunk of partly-worn
clothing than, I suppose, a less economically-inclined woman than I ever
would have dreamed of."
Mary handed her Aunt two blue seersucker dresses, one plain, the other
striped. "They have both shrunken, and are entirely too small for me," said
Mary.
"Well," said her Aunt, considering, "they might be combined in one dress,
but you need aprons for kitchen work more useful than those little frilly,
embroidered affairs you are wearing. We should make them into serviceable
aprons to protect your dresses. Mary, neatness is an attribute that every self-
respecting housewife should assiduously cultivate, and no one can be neat
in a kitchen without a suitable apron to protect one from grime, flour and
dust."
"What a pretty challis dress; its cream-colored ground sprinkled over with
pink rose buds!"
Mary sighed. "I always did love that dress, Aunt Sarah, 'Twas so
becoming, and he—he—admired it so!"
"And HE, can do so still," replied Aunt Sarah, with a merry twinkle in her
kind, clear, gray eyes, "for that pale-green suesine skirt, slightly faded, will
make an excellent lining, with cotton for an interlining, and pale green
Germantown yarn with which to tie the comfortable. At small cost you'll

have a dainty, warm spread which will be extremely pretty in the home you
are planning with HIM. I have several very pretty-old-style patchwork
quilts in a box in the attic which I shall give you when you start
housekeeping. That pretty dotted, ungored Swiss skirt will make dainty,
ruffled sash curtains for bedroom windows. Mary, sometimes small
beginnings make great endings; if you make the best of your small
belongings, some day your homely surroundings will be metamorphosed
into what, in your present circumstances, would seem like extravagant
luxuries. An economical young couple, beginning life with a homely, home-
made rag carpet, have achieved in middle age, by their own energy and
industry, carpets of tapestry and rich velvet, and costly furniture in keeping;
but, never—never, dear, are they so valued, I assure you, as those
inexpensive articles, conceived by our inventive brain and manufactured by
our own deft fingers during our happy Springtime of life when, with our
young lover husband, we built our home nest on the foundation of pure,
unselfish, self-sacrificing love."
Aunt Sarah sighed; memory led her far back to when she had planned her
home with her lover, John Landis, still her lover, though both have grown
gray together, and shared alike the joys and sorrows of the passing years.
Aunt Sarah had always been the perfect "housemother" or "Haus Frau," as
the Germans phrase it, and on every line of her matured face could be read
an anxious care for the family welfare. Truly could it be said of her, in the
language of Henry Ward Beecher: "Whoever makes home seem to the
young dearer and happier is a public benefactor."
Aunt Sarah said earnestly to Mary, "I wish it were possible for me to
impart to young, inexperienced girls, about to become housewives and
housemothers, a knowledge of those small economics, so necessary to
health and prosperity, taught me by many years of hard work, mental
travail, experience and some failures. In this extravagant Twentieth Century
economy is more imperative than formerly. We feel that we need so much
more these days than our grandmothers needed; and what we need, or feel
that we need, is so costly. The housemother has larger problems today than
yesterday.
"Every husband should give his wife an allowance according to his
income, so that she will be able to systematize her buying and occasionally

obtain imperishable goods at less cost. Being encouraged thus to use her
dormant economical powers; she will become a powerful factor in the
problem of home-making along lines that will essentially aid her husband in
acquiring a comfortable competency, if not a fortune. Then she will have
her husband's interest truly at heart; will study to spend his money carefully,
and to the best advantage; and she herself, even, will be surprised at the
many economies which will suggest themselves to save his hard-earned
money when she handles that money herself, which certainly teaches her
the saving habit and the value of money.
"The majority of housewives of today aren't naturally inclined to be
extravagant or careless. It is rather that they lack the knowledge and
experience of spending money, and spending it to the best advantage for
themselves and their household needs.
"'Tis a compulsory law in England, I have heard, to allow a wife pin
money, according to a man's means. 'Tis a most wise law. To a loyal wife
and mother it gives added force, dignity and usefulness to have a sufficient
allowance and to be allowed unquestioningly to spend that money to her
best ability. Her husband, be he a working or professional man, would find
it greatly to his advantage in the home as well as in his business and less of
a drain on his bank account should he give his wife a suitable allowance
and trust her to spend it according to her own intelligence and thrift.
"Child, many a man is violently prejudiced against giving a young wife
money; many allow her to run up bills, to her hurt and to his, rather than
have her, even in her household expenditure, independent of his
supervision. I sincerely hope, dear, that your intended, Ralph Jackson, will
be superior to this male idiosyncrasy, to term it mildly, and allow you a
stated sum monthly. The home is the woman's kingdom, and she should be
allowed to think for it, to buy for it, and not to be cramped by lack of
money to do as she thinks best for it."
"But, Aunt Sarah, some housewives are so silly that husbands cannot
really be blamed for withholding money from them and preventing them
from frittering it away in useless extravagance."
"Mary, wise wives should not suffer for those who are silly and
extravagant. I don't like to be sarcastic, but with the majority of the men,

silliness appeals to them more than common sense. Men like to feel their
superiority to us. However, though inexperienced, Mary, you aren't silly or
extravagant, and Ralph could safely trust you with his money. It makes a
woman so self-respecting, puts her on her mettle, to have money to do as
she pleases with, to be trusted, relied upon as a reasoning, responsible
being. A man, especially a young husband, makes a grave mistake when he
looks upon his wife as only a toy to amuse him in his leisure moments and
not as one to be trusted to aid him in his life work. A trusted young
housewife, with a reasonable and regular allowance at her command, be she
ever so inexperienced, will soon plan to have wholesome, nutritious food at
little cost, instead of not knowing until a half hour before meal time what
she will serve. She would save money and the family would be better
nourished; nevertheless, I would impress it on the young housewife not to
be too saving or practice too close economy, especially when buying milk
and eggs, as there is nothing more nutritious or valuable. A palatable
macaroni and cheese; eggs or a combination of eggs and milk, are dishes
which may be substituted occasionally, at less expense, for meat. A pound
of macaroni and cheese equals a pound of steak in food value. Take time
and trouble to see that all food be well cooked and served, both in an
attractive and appetizing manner. Buy the cheaper cuts of stewing meats,
and by long, slow simmering, they will become sweet and tender and of
equal nutritive value as higher priced sirloins and tenderloins.
"But, Mary, I've not yet finished that trunk and its contents. That slightly-
faded pink chambray I'll cut up into quilt blocks. Made up with white
patches, and quilted nicely, a pretty quilt lined with white, will be evolved. I
have such a pretty design of pink and white called the 'Winding Way,' very
simple to make. The beauty of the quilt consists altogether in the manner in
which the blocks are put together, or it might be made over the pattern
called 'The Flying Dutchman.' From that tan linen skirt may be made a
laundry bag, shoe pocket, twine bag, a collar bag and a table runner, the
only expense being several skeins of green embroidery silk, and a couple
yards of green cord to draw the bags up with, and a couple of the same-
hued skirt braids for binding edges, and," teasingly, "Mary, you might
embroider Ralph Jackson's initials on the collar and laundry bag."

A-12 Pine Tree Quilt
A-13 Tree of Life
A-14 Pineapple
A-15 Enlarged Block of Winding Way Quilt
A-16 Lost Rose in the Wilderness
A-17 Tree Quilt

Mary blushed rosily red and exclaimed in an embarrassed manner, most
bewitchingly, "Oh!"
Aunt Sarah laughed. She thought to have Mary look that way 'twas worth
teasing her.
"Well, Mary, we can in leisure moments, from that coarse, white linen
skirt which you have discarded, make bureau scarfs, sideboard cover, or a
set of scalloped table mats to place under hot dishes on your dining-room
table. I will give you pieces of asbestos to slip between the linen mats when
finished. They are a great protection to the table. You could also make
several small guest towels with deep, hemstitched ends with your initials
on. You embroider so beautifully, and the drawn work you do is done as
expertly as that of the Mexican women."
"Oh, Aunt Sarah, how ingenious you are."
"And, Mary, your rag carpet shall not be lacking. We shall tear up those
partly-worn muslin skirts into strips one-half inch in width, and use the dyes
left over from dyeing Easter eggs. I always save the dye for this purpose,
they come in such pretty, bright colors. The rags, when sewed together with
some I have in the attic, we'll have woven into a useful carpet for the home
you are planning.'
"Oh! Aunt Sarah," exclaimed Mary, "do you mean a carpet like the one in
the spare bedroom?"
"Yes, my dear, exactly like that, if you wish."

"Indeed I do, and I think one like that quite good enough to have in a
dining-room. I think it so pretty. It does not look at all like a common rag
carpet."
"No, my dear, it is nothing very uncommon. It is all in the way it is
woven. Instead of having two gay rainbow stripes about three inches wide
running through the length of the carpet, I had it woven with the ground
work white and brown chain to form checks. Then about an inch apart were
placed two threads of two shades of red woolen warp, alternating with two
threads of two shades of green, across the whole width, running the length
of the carpet. It has been greatly admired, as it is rather different from that
usually woven. All the rag carpets I found in the house when we moved
here, made by John's mother, possessed very wide stripes of rainbow colors,
composed of shaded reds, yellows, blues and greens. You can imagine how
very gorgeous they were, and so very heavy. Many of the country weavers
use linen chain or warp instead of cotton, and always use wool warp for the
stripes."
"Aunt Sarah, I want something so very much for the Colonial bedroom I
should like to have when I have a home of my very own."
"What is it, dear? Anything, e'en to the half of my kingdom," laughingly
replied her Aunt.
"Why, I'd love to have several rag rugs like those in your bedroom, which
you call 'New Colonial' rugs."
"Certainly, my dear. They are easily made from carpet rags. I have already
planned in my mind a pretty rag rug for you, to be made from your old,
garnet merino shirtwaist, combined with your discarded cravenette
stormcoat.
"And you'll need some pretty quilts, also," said her Aunt.
"I particularly admire the tree quilts," said Mary.
"You may have any one you choose; the one called 'Tree of Paradise,'
another called 'Pineapple Design,' which was originally a border to 'Fleur de
lis' quilt or 'Pine Tree,' and still another called 'Tree of Life,' and 'The Lost
Rose in the Wilderness.'"

"They are all so odd," said Mary, "I scarcely know which one I think
prettiest."
"All are old-fashioned quilts, which I prize highly," continued her Aunt.
"Several I pieced together when a small girl, I think old-time patchwork too
pretty and useful an accomplishment to have gone out of fashion.
"You shall have a small stand cover like the one you admired so greatly,
given me by Aunt Cornelia. It is very simple, the materials required being a
square of yard-wide unbleached muslin. In the centre of this baste a large,
blue-flowered handkerchief with cream-colored ground, to match the
muslin. Turn up a deep hem all around outside edge; cut out quarter circles
of the handkerchief at each of four corners; baste neatly upon the muslin,
leaving a space of muslin the same width as the hem around each quarter
circle; briarstitch all turned-in edges with dark-blue embroidery silk, being
washable, these do nicely as covers for small tables or stands on the
veranda in Summertime."
"Aunt Sarah," ecstatically exclaimed Mary, "you are a wizard to plan so
many useful things from a trunk of apparently useless rags. What a treasure
Uncle has in you. I was fretting about having so little to make my home
attractive, but I feel quite elated at the thought of having a carpet and rugs
already planned, besides the numerous other things evolved from your
fertile brain."
Aunt Sarah loved a joke. She held up an old broadcloth cape. "Here is a
fine patch for Ralph Jackson's breeches, should he ever become sedentary
and need one."
Mary reddened and looked almost offended and was at a loss for a reply.

A-18 Fleur DeLys Quilt
A-19 Oak Leaf Quilt
A-20 One Block of Fleur DeLys Quilt
A-21 Winding Way Quilt
A-22 Tulip Quilt
A-23 Flower Pot Quilt

Greatly amused, Aunt Sarah quoted ex-President Roosevelt: "'Tis time for
the man with the patch to come forward and the man with the dollar to step
back,'" and added, "Never mind, Mary, your Ralph is such an industrious,
hustling young man that he will never need a patch to step forward, I
prophesy that with such a helpmeet and 'Haus Frau' as you, Mary, he'll
always be most prosperous and happy. Kiss me, dear."
Mary did so, and her radiant smile at such praise from her honored
relative was beautiful to behold.

OLD RAG CARPET

CHAPTER IX.
POETRY AND PIE.

"Aunt Sarah," questioned Mary one day, "do you mind if I copy some of
your recipes?"
"Certainly not, my dear," replied her Aunt.
"And I'd like to copy some of the poems, also, I never saw any one else
have so much poetry in a book of cooking recipes."
"Perhaps not," replied her Aunt, "but you know, Mary, I believe in
combining pleasure with my work, and our lives are made up of poetry and
prose, and some lives are so very prosy. Many times when too tired to look
up a favorite volume of poems, it has rested me to turn the pages of my
recipe book and find some helpful thought, and a good housewife will
always keep her book of recipes where it may be readily found for
reference. I think, Mary, the poem 'Pennsylvania,' by Lydia M.D. O'Neil, a
fine one, and I never tire of reading it over and over again. I have always
felt grateful to my old schoolmaster. Professor T——, for teaching me,
when a school girl, to love the writing of Longfellow, Whittier, Bryant,
Tennyson and other well-known poets. I still, in memory, hear him repeat
'Thanatopsis,' by Bryant and 'The Builders,' by Longfellow. The rhymes of
the 'Fireside Poet' are easily understood, and never fail to touch the heart of
common folk. I know it appears odd to see so many of my favorite poems
sandwiched in between old, valued cooking recipes, but, Mary, the
happiness of the home life depends so largely on the food we consume. On
the preparation and selection of the food we eat depends our health, and on
our health is largely dependent our happiness and prosperity. Who is it has
said, 'The discovery of a new dish makes more for the happiness of man
than the discovery of a star'? So, dearie, you see there is not such a great
difference between the one who writes a poem and the one who makes a
pie. I think cooking should be considered one of the fine arts—and the

woman who prepares a dainty, appetizing dish of food, which appeals to the
sense of taste, should be considered as worthy of praise as the artist who
paints a fine picture to gratify our sense of sight. I try to mix all the poetry
possible in prosaic every-day life. We country farmers' wives, not having
the opportunities of our more fortunate city sisters, such as witnessing plays
from Shakespeare, listening to symphony concerts, etc., turn to 'The
Friendship of Books,' of which Washington Irving writes: 'Cheer us with the
true friendship, which never deceived hope nor deserted sorrow.'"
"Yes," said Mary, "but remember, Aunt Sarah, Chautauqua will be held
next Summer in a near-by town, and, as Uncle John is one of the
guarantors, you will wish to attend regularly and will, I know, enjoy hearing
the excellent lectures, music and concerts."
"Yea," replied her Aunt, "Chautauqua meetings will commence the latter
part of June, and I will expect you and Ralph to visit us then. I think
Chautauqua a godsend to country women, especially farmers' wives; it takes
them away from their monotonous daily toil and gives them new thoughts
and ideas."
"I can readily understand, Aunt Sarah, why the poem, 'Life's Common
Things,' appeals to you; it is because you see beauty in everything. Aunt
Sarah, where did you get this very old poem, 'The Deserted City'?"
"Why, that was given me by John's Uncle, who thought the poem fine."

"Sad is the sight, the city once so fair!
An hundred palaces lie buried there;
Her lofty towers are fallen, and creepers grow
O'er marbled dome and shattered portico.

"Once in the gardens, lovely girls at play,
Culled the bright flowers, and gently touched the spray;
But now wild creatures in their savage joy
Tread down the flowers and the plants destroy.

"By night no torches in the windows gleam;
By day no women in their beauty beam;
The smoke has ceased—the spider there has spread

His snares in safety—and all else is dead."
"Indeed, it is a 'gem,'" said Mary, after slowly reading aloud parts of
several stanzas.
"Yes," replied her Aunt, "Professor Schmidt tells me the poem was written
by Kalidasa (the Shakespeare of Hindu literature), and was written 1800
years before Goldsmith gave us his immortal work, 'The Deserted Village.'"
"I like the poem, 'Abou Ben Adhem and the Angel,'" said Mary, "and I
think this true by Henry Ward Beecher:"

"'Do not be troubled because you have not great virtues,
God made a million spears of grass where He made one tree;
The earth is fringed and carpeted not with forests but with grasses,
Only have enough of little virtues and common fidelities,
And you need not mourn because you are neither a hero nor a saint.'

"This is a favorite little poem of mine, Aunt Sarah. I'll just write it on this
blank page in your book."

There's a little splash of sunshine and a little spot of shade,
always somewhere near,
The wise bask in the sunshine, but the foolish choose the shade.
The wise are gay and happy, on the foolish, sorrow's laid,
And the fault's their own, I fear.

For the little splash of sunshine and the little spot of shade
Are here for joint consumption, for comparison are made;
We're all meant to be happy, not too foolish or too staid.
And the right dose to be taken is some sunshine mixed with shade.

"Aunt Sarah, I see there is still space on this page to write another poem, a
favorite of mine. It is called, 'Be Strong,' by Maltbie Davenport."

Be Strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard word to do, and loads to lift,
Shun not the struggle; face it, 'tis God's gift.

Be Strong!
Say not the days are evil—who's to blame?
And fold the hands and acquiesce—Oh, shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God's name.

Be Strong!
It matters not how deep intrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day how long;
Faint not, fight on! Tomorrow comes the song,

LIFE'S COMMON THINGS.

How lovely are life's common things.
When health flows in the veins;
The golden sunshine of the days
When Phoebus holds the reins;

The floating clouds against the blue;
The fragrance of the air;
The nodding flowers by the way;
The green grass everywhere;

The feathery beauty of the elm,
With graceful-swaying boughs.
Where nesting songbirds find a home
And the night wind sighs and soughs;

The hazy blue of distant hill,
With wooded slope and crest;
The crimson sky when low at night
The sun sinks in the West;

The thrilling grandeur of the storm,
The lightning's vivid flash,
The mighty rush of wind and rain,
The thunder's awful crash.

And then the calm that follows storm,
And rainbow in the sky;
The rain-washed freshness of the earth—
A singing bird near by.

And oh, the beauty of the night!
Its hush, its thrill, its charm;
The twinkling brilliance of its stars;
Its tranquil peace and calm.

Oh, loving fatherhood of God
To give us every day
The lovely common things of life
To brighten all the way!

(Susan M. Perkins, in the Boston Transcript)

ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL.

Abou Ben Adhem—may his tribe increase—
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace
And saw, within the moonlight of his room,
Making it rich and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said:
"What writest thou?" The vision raised his head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered: "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke low,
But cheerily still, and Said, "I pray thee, then,
write me as one that loves his fellow-men."
The angel wrote and vanished. The next night
It came again, with a great, wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

LEIGH HUNT.

CHAPTER X.
SIBYLLA LINSABIGLER.

A very original character was Sibylla Linsabigler, who had been a
member of the Landis household several years. She was Aunt Sarah's only
maid servant, but she disliked being referred to as a servant, and when she
overheard "Fritz" Schmidt, as he passed the Landis farm on his way to the
creek for a days fishing, call to Mary: "Miss Midleton, will you please send
the butter over with the servant today, as I shall not return home in time for
dinner" Sibylla said, "I ain't no servant. I'm hired girl What does that make
out if I do work here? Pop got mad with me 'cause I wouldn't work at home
no more for him and Mom without they paid me. They got three more girls
to home yet that can do the work. My Pop owns a big farm and sent our
'Chon' to the college, and it's mean 'fer' him not to give us girls money for
dress, so I work out, 'Taint right the way us people what has to work are
treated these days," said Sibylla to herself, as she applied the broom
vigorously to the gay-flowered carpet in the Landis parlor. "Because us
folks got to work ain't no reason why them tony people over to the
Perfessor's should call me a 'servant.' I guess I know I milk the cows, wash
dishes, scrub floors, and do the washin' and ir'nin' every week, but I'm no
'servant,' I'm just as good any day as that good-fer-nothin' Perfesser's son,"
continued Sibylla, growing red in the face with indignation. "Didn't I hear
that worthless scamp, Fritz Schmidt, a-referrin' to me and a-sayin' to Miss
Midleton fer the 'servant' to bring over the butter? Betch yer life this here
'servant' ain't a-goin' to allow eddicated people to make a fool of her. First
chance I get I'll give that Perfesser a piece of my mind."
Sibylla's opportunity came rather unexpectedly. The gentle, mild-
mannered Professor was on good terms with his sturdy, energetic neighbor,
John Landis, and frequently visited him for a neighborly chat. On this
particular day he called as usual and found Sibvlla in the mood described.

"Good afternoon, Sibylla," said the Professor, good-naturedly. "How are
you today?"
"I'd be a whole lot better if some people weren't so smart," replied Sibylla,
venting her feelings on the broom. "Should think a Perfesser would feel
himself too big to talk to a 'servant'."
"On the contrary, my dear girl, I feel honored. I presume you are not
feeling as well as usual. What makes you think it is condescension for me to
address you?" asked the genial old man, kindly.
"Well, since you ask me, I don't mind a-tellin' you. Yesterday your son
insulted me, I won't take no insult from nobody, I am just as good as what
you are, even if I hain't got much book larnin'."
With this deliverance, Sibylla felt she had done full justice to the occasion
and would have closed the interview abruptly had not the Professor, with a
restraining hand, detained her.
"We must get to the bottom of this grievance, Sibylla. I am sure there is
some mistake somewhere. What did my son say?"
"Well, if you want to know," replied the irate domestic, 'I'll tell you. He
called me a 'servant.' I know I'm only a working girl, but your son nor
nobody else ain't got no right to abuse me by callin' me a 'servant'."
"Ah! I see. You object to the term 'servant' being applied to you," said the
Professor, comprehendingly. "The word 'servant' is distasteful to you. You
feel it is a disgrace to be called a servant. I see! I see!" In a fatherly way, the
old man resumed: "In a certain sense we are all servants. The history of
human achievements is a record of service. The men and women who have
helped the world most were all servants—servants to humanity. The
happiest man is he who serves. God calls some men to sow and some to
reap; some to work in wood and stone; to sing and speak. Work is honorable
in all, regardless of the capacity in which we serve. There is no great
difference, after all, between the ordinary laborer and the railroad president;
both are servants, and the standard of measurement to be applied to each
man is the same. It is not so much a question of station in life as it is the
question of efficiency. Best of all, work is education. There is culture that
comes without college and university. He who graduates from the college of

hard work is as honorable as he who takes a degree at Yale or Harvard; for
wisdom can be found in shop and foundry, field and factory, in the kitchen
amid pots and kettles, as well as in office and school. The truly educated
man is the man who has learned the duty and responsibility of doing
something useful, something helpful, something to make this old world of
ours better and a happier place in which to live. The word 'servant,' Sibylla,
is a beautiful one, rightly understood. The greatest man who ever lived was
a servant. All His earthly ministry was filled with worthy deeds. When man
pleaded with Him to rest, He answered: 'My Father worketh hitherto, and I
work.' When one of Christ's followers desired to express the true nature of
his work and office, he called himself a servant. He used a word, 'doulos,'
which means, in the Greek language, a slave or a bond-servant. By the word
'doulos' he meant to say that his mission in life was to work, to do good, to
serve. This man was a great preacher, but it is possible for any one to
become a 'doulos' in so far as he is willing to serve God and his fellowman.
You see, Sibylla, the spirit of Christian work and brotherly love is the spirit
of 'doulos.' The word has been transformed by service and unselfish
devotion to duty. Great men who have blessed the world, and good and
noble women who have helped to uplift humanity, have done it through
service. It is just as honorable to bake well, and cook well, and to do the
humblest daily tasks efficiently, as it is to play well on the piano and talk
fluently about the latest books."
At the conclusion of the Professor's little talk on the dignity of labor, a
new light shone in Sibylla's eyes and a new thought gripped her soul. The
spirit of "doulos" had displaced her antipathy toward the word servant.
"I'll take that butter over to the Professer's home right away," she said, to
herself.
Before leaving Sibylla, the Professor quoted from the "Toiling of Felix,"
by Henry Vandyke:
"Hewing wood and drawing water, splitting stones
and cleaving sod, All the dusty ranks of labour, in the
regiment of God, March together toward His triumph,
do the task His hands prepare; Honest toil is holy
service, faithful work is praise and prayer."

They who work without complaining, do the holy will
of God.
Heaven is blest with perfect rest, but the blessing of
earth is toil.
Sibylla Linsabigler was a healthy, large-boned, solidly-built, typical
"Pennsylvania German" girl. Her clear, pinkish complexion looked as if
freshly scrubbed with soap and water. A few large, brown freckles adorned
the bridge of her rather broad, flat nose. She possessed red hair and
laughing, red-brown eyes, a large mouth, which disclosed beautiful even,
white teeth when she smiled, extraordinary large feet and hands, strong,
willing and usually good-natured, although possessed of a quick temper, as
her red hair indicated. Kind-hearted to a fault, she was of great assistance to
Aunt Sarah, although she preferred any other work to that of cooking or
baking. She kept the kitchen as well as other parts of the house, to quote
Aunt Sarah, "neat as a pin," and did not object to any work, however hard
or laborious, as long as she was not expected to do the thinking and
planning. She was greatly attached to both Aunt Sarah and Mary, but stood
rather in awe of John Landis, who had never spoken a cross word to her in
the three years she had lived at the farm.
Sarah Landis, knowing Sibylla to be an honest, industrious girl,
appreciated her good qualities, thought almost as much of Sibylla as if she
had been her daughter, and treated her in like manner, and for this reason, if
for no other, she received willing service from the girl.
Sibylla, a swift worker at all times, never finished work so quickly as on
Wednesday and Saturday evenings, when she "kept company" with Jake
Crouthamel. "Chake," as Sibylla called him, was a sturdy, red-faced young
farmer, all legs and arms. He appeared to be put together loosely at the
joints, like a jumping-jack, and never appeared at ease in his ill-fitting
"store clothes." He usually wore gray corduroy trousers and big cowhide
boots, a pink and white striped shirt and red necktie.
Sibylla did not notice his imperfections, and thought him handsome as a
Greek god.

Jake, an honest, industrious young fellow, worked on a near-by farm,
owned his own carriage, and had the privilege of using one of the farm
horses when he wished, so he and Sibylla frequently took "choy rides," as
Sibylla called them.
Jake Crouthamel was usually called "Boller-Yockel," this name having
been accorded him on account of his having delivered to a purchaser a load
of hay largely composed of rag-weed. The man called him an old "Boller-
Yockel," and the name had clung to Jake for years.

CHAPTER XI.
"NEW COLONIAL" RAG RUGS.

Several days had elapsed since that on which Mary's Aunt had planned to
use the contents of her trunk to such good advantage, when Mary, coming
into the room where her Aunt was busily engaged sewing, exclaimed:
"Don't forget, Auntie, you promised to teach me to crochet rag rugs!"

A "HIT-AND-MISS" RUG

"Indeed, I've not forgotten, and will make my promise good at once," said
Aunt Sarah. "We shall need quantities of carpet rags cut about one-half inch
in width, the same as those used for making rag carpet. Of course, you are
aware, Mary, that heavier materials should be cut in narrower strips than
those of thinner materials. You will also require a long, wooden crochet
needle, about as thick as an ordinary wooden lead pencil, having a hook at
one end, similar to a common bone crochet needle, only larger. For a
circular rug, crochet about twelve stitches (single crochet) over one end of a
piece of candle wick or cable cord; or, lacking either of these, use a carpet
rag of firm material; then draw the crocheted strip into as small a circle as
possible, fasten and crochet round and round continuously until finished.
The centre of a circular or oblong rug may be a plain color, with border of
colored light and dark rags, sewed together promiscuously, called 'Hit and
Miss.'

A BROWN AND TAN RUG

"Or you might have a design similar to a 'Pin-wheel' in centre of the
circular rug, with alternate stripes, composed of dark and light-colored
rags."
"I'd like one made in that manner from different shades that harmonize,
browns and tans, for instance," said Mary.
"You may easily have a rug of that description," continued her Aunt.
"With a package of brown dye, we can quickly transform some light,
woolen carpet rags I possess into pretty shades of browns and tans."

RUG

"For a circular rug, with design in centre resembling a pin-wheel,
commence crocheting the rug same as preceding one. Crochet three rows of
one color, then mark the rug off into four parts, placing a pin to mark each
section or quarter of the rug. At each of four points crochet one stitch of a
contrasting shade. Crochet once around the circle, using a shade similar to
that of the centre of rug for design, filling in between with the other shade.
For the following row, crochet two stitches beneath the one stitch (not
directly underneath the stitch, but one stitch beyond), filling in between
with the other color. The third row, add three stitches beneath the two
stitches in same manner as preceding row, and continue, until design in
centre is as large as desired, then crochet 'Hit or Miss' or stripes. Do not cut
off the carpet rags at each of the four points after crocheting stitches, but
allow each one to remain and crochet over them, then pick up on needle and

crochet every time you require stitches of contrasting shade. Then crochet
several rows around the rug with different shades until rug is the required
size. The under side should be finished off as neatly as the right, or upper
side. Mary, when not making a design, sew the rags together as if for
weaving carpet. When crocheting circular rugs, occasionally stretch the
outside row to prevent the rug from curling up at edges when finished, as it
would be apt to do if too tightly crocheted. If necessary, occasionally add an
extra stitch. Avoid also crocheting it too loosely, as it would then appear
like a ruffle. The advantage of crocheting over a heavy cord is that the work
may be easily drawn up more tightly if too lose."

CHAPTER XII.
MARY IMITATES NAVAJO BLANKETS.

On her return from an afternoon spent at Professor Schmidt's, Mary
remarked to Aunt Sarah, "For the first time in my life I have an original
idea!"
"Do tell me child, what it is!"
"The 'New Colonial' rag rugs we have lately finished are fine, but I'd just
love to have a Navajo blanket like those owned by Professor Schmidt; and I
intend to make a rag rug in imitation of his Navajo blanket."
"Yes," answered her Aunt, "I have always greatly admired them myself,
especially the large gray one which covers the Professor's own chair in the
library. The Professor brought them with him when he returned from
'Cutler's Ranch' at Rociada, near Las Vegas, New Mexico, where he visited
his nephew, poor Raymond, or rather, I should say, fortunate Raymond, an
only child of the Professor's sister. A quiet, studious boy, he graduated at the
head of his class at an early age, but he inherited the weak lungs of his
father, who died of consumption. Raymond was a lovable boy, with a fund
of dry humor and wit—the idol of his mother, who, taking the advice of a
specialist, accompanied her boy, as a last resort, to New Mexico, where,
partly owing to his determination to get well, proper food and daily rides on
the mesa, on the back of his little pinto pony, he regained perfect health, and
today is well, happily married and living in Pasadena, California, so I have
been told by Frau Schmidt, who dearly loves the boy."
"But Mary, forgive an old woman for rambling away from the subject in
which you are interested—Navajo blankets. Ever since we planned to make
a rug with a swastika in the centre, I have been trying to evolve from my
brain (and your Uncle John says my bump of inventiveness is abnormally
large) a Navajo rag rug for the floor of the room you intend to furnish as

Ralph's den, in the home you are planning. Well, my dear, a wooden crochet
hook in your deft fingers will be the magic wand which will perform a
miracle and transform into Navajo blankets such very commonplace articles
as your discarded gray eiderdown kimona, and a pair of your Uncle's old
gray trousers, which have already been washed and ripped by Sibylla, to be
used for making carpet rags. These, combined with the gray skirt I heard
you say had outlived its day of usefulness, will furnish the background of
the rug. The six triangles in the centre of the rug, also lighter stripes at each
end of the rug, we will make of that old linen chair-cover and your faded
linen skirt, which you said I might use for carpet rags; and, should more
material be needed, I have some old, gray woolen underwear in my patch
bag, a gray-white, similar to the real Navajo. The rows of black with which
we shall outline the triangles may be made from those old, black, silk-lisle
hose you gave me, by cutting them round and round in one continuous strip.
Heavy cloth should be cut in very narrow strips. Sibylla will do that nicely;
her hands are more used to handling large, heavy shears than are yours. The
linen-lawn skirt you may cut in strips about three-fourths of an inch in
width, as that material is quite thin. I would sew rags of one color together
like carpet rags, not lapping the ends more than necessary to hold them
together. The rug will be reversible, both sides being exactly alike when
finished. I should make the rug about fifty-three stitches across. This will
require about six and one-fourth yards of carpet rags, when sewed together,
to crochet once across. I think it would be wise to cut all rags of different
weight materials before commencing to crochet the rug, so they may be
well mixed through. I will assist you with the work at odd moments, and in
a short time the rug will be finished."
The rug, when finished, was truly a work of art, and represented many
hours of labor and thought. But Mary considered it very fascinating work,
and was delighted with the result of her labor—a rug the exact imitation of
one of the Professor's genuine Indian Navajo blankets, the work of her own
hands, and without the expenditure of a penny.
Mary remarked: "I do not think all the triangles in my rug are the exact
size of the paper pattern you made me, Aunt Sarah. The two in the centre
appear larger than the others."

"Well," remarked her Aunt, "if you examine closely the blankets owned
by Professor Schmidt, you will find the on the ones woven by Navajo
Indians are not of an equal size."
'Tis said Navajo blankets and Serapes will become scarce and higher in
price in the future, on account of the numerous young Indians who have
been educated and who prefer other occupations to that of weaving
blankets, as did their forefathers; and the present disturbance in Mexico will
certainly interfere with the continuance of this industry for a time.

IMITATION OF NAVAJO BLANKET

RUG WITH DESIGN

"Mary, while you have been planning your Navajo rug, I have been
thinking how we may make a very attractive as well as useful rug. You
remember, we could not decide what use to make of your old, tan cravenette
stormcoat? I have been thinking we might use this, when cut into carpet
rags, for the principal part of the rug, and that old, garnet merino blouse
waist might be cut and used for the four corners of a rug, and we might
have gay stripes in the centre of the rug to form a sort of design, and also
put gay stripes at each end of the rug.
"And you might crochet a rug, plain 'Hit or Miss,' of rather bright-colored
rags."
"Yes," said Mary, "I think I will crochet a swastika in the centre of a rug,
as you suggest, of bright orange, outlined with black, and a stripe of orange
edged with black at each end of the rug to match the centre. Don't you think
that would be pretty, Aunt Sarah?"

"HIT-OR-MISS" RUG WITH SWASTIKA CENTRE

"Yes indeed, but Mary, don't you think the swastika would show more
distinctly on a rug with a plain background?"
"Perhaps it would," replied Mary, "but I think I'll crochet one of very
gayly-colored rags, with a swastika in the centre."

A "PRAYER RUG" OF SILK SCRAPS.

"Aunt Sarah," said Mary, "do tell me how that pretty little rug composed
of silk scraps is made."
"Oh, that silk rug; 'twas given me by Aunt Cornelia, who finished it while
here on a visit from New York. I never saw another like it, and it has been
greatly admired. Although possessed of an ordinary amount of patience, I
don't think I'll ever make one for myself. I don't admire knitted rugs of any
description, neither do I care for braided rugs. I think the crocheted ones
prettier. But, Mary, this small silk rug is easily made should you care to
have one. I will commence knitting one for you at once. You will then find
a use for the box of bright-colored silks you possess, many of which are
quite too small to be used in any other manner. Professor Schmidt calls this
a 'Prayer Rug.' He said: 'This rug, fashioned of various bright-hued silks of
orange, purple and crimson, a bright maze of rich colors, without any
recognizable figure or design, reminds me of the description of the 'Prayer
Carpet' or rugs of the Mohammedans. They are composed of rich-hued silks
of purple, ruby and amber. 'Tis said their delicacy of shade is marvelous and
was suggested by the meadows of variegated flowers.' But this is a
digression; you wished directions for making the rug.
"Use tiny scraps of various bright-hued silks, velvets and satins, cut about
3½ inches long and about one-half inch in width. Ends should always be cut
slanting or bias; never straight. All you will require besides the silk scraps,
will be a ball of common cord or twine, or save all cord which comes tied
around packages, as I do, and use that and two ordinary steel knitting
needles. When making her rug, Aunt Cornelia knitted several strips a couple
of inches in width and the length she wished the finished rug to be. The
strips when finished she sewed together with strong linen thread on the
wrong side of the rug. She commenced the rug by knitting two rows of the
twine or cord. (When I was a girl we called this common knitting 'garter
stitch.') Then, when commencing to knit third row, slip off first stitch onto
your other needle; knit one stitch, then lay one of the tiny scraps of silk
across or between the two needles; knit one stitch with the cord. This holds
the silk in position. Then fold or turn one end of silk back on the other piece
of silk and knit one stitch of cord to hold them in place, always keeping silk
on one side, on the top of rug, as this rug is not reversible. Continue in this
manner until one row is finished. Then knit once across plain with cord, and
for next row lay silk scraps in and knit as before. Always knit one row of

the cord across plain after knitting in scraps of silk, as doing this holds them
firmly in position. Of course, Mary, you will use judgment and taste in
combining light and dark, bright and dull colors. Also, do not use several
scraps of velvet together. Use velvet, silk and satin alternately. Should any
scraps of silk be longer than others after knitting, trim off evenly so all will
be of uniform size. When her rug was finished, Aunt Cornelia spread it,
wrong side uppermost, on an unused table, covered it with a thick boiled
paste, composed of flour and water, allowed it to dry thoroughly, then lined
the rug with a heavy piece of denim. This was done to prevent the rug from
curling up at edges, and caused it to lie flat on floor; but I think I should
prefer just a firm lining or foundation of heavy burlap or denim."
"Thank you, Aunt Sarah, for your explicit directions. I cannot fail to know
just how to knit a silk rug, should I ever care to do so. I think the work
would be simply fascinating."

CHAPTER XIII.
THE GIRLS' CAMPFIRE, ORGANIZED BY MARY.

One day in early June, when all nature seemed aglow with happiness, we
find Mary earnestly discussing with Elizabeth Schmidt the prosaic,
humdrum life of many of the country girls, daughters of well-to-do farmers
in the vicinity.
"I wish," said Mary, wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully, "I could think of
some new interest to introduce into their lives; some way of broadening
their outlook; anything to bring more happiness into their commonplace
daily toil; something good and helpful for them to think about."
All at once Mary, who was not usually demonstrative, clapped her hands,
laughed gleefully and said: "I have it, Elizabeth. The very thing! Suppose
we start a 'girls' campfire,' right here in the country? I don't think we shall
have any trouble to organize."
"And you, because you understand all about it, will be the Guardian," said
Elizabeth.
At first Mary demurred, but, overcome by Elizabeth's pleading, finally
gave a reluctant consent. They then made out a list of the girls they thought
might be willing to join, Mary promising to write at once for a handbook.
They separated, Elizabeth to call to see the girls, and Mary to interview
their parents. Their efforts were rewarded with surprisingly gratifying
results, for many of the girls had read about the "Campfire Girls" and were
anxious to become members.

One afternoon, several weeks later, had you gone into the old apple
orchard, at the farm, you would have seen thirteen eager young girls,
ranging in age from fourteen to sixteen, listening intently to Mary, who was

telling them about the "Campfire Girls." What she told them was something
like this:
"Now girls, we are going to have a good time. Some of our good times
will be play and some work. When you join, you will become a 'Wood
Gatherer,' and after three months' successful work, if you have met certain
qualifications, you will be promoted to the rank of 'Fire Maker.' Later on,
when you come to realize what it means to be a 'Torch Bearer,' you will be
put in that rank. The first law which you learn to follow is one which you
must apply to your daily life. It is: Seek beauty, give service, pursue
knowledge, be trustworthy, hold on to health, glorify work, be happy. 'The
Camp Fire' has meant so much to girls I have known, for their betterment,
and has been so helpful in many ways, you surely will never regret
becoming a member of the organization, or be anything but happy if you
keep their laws. There will be no dues, except what is collected for good
times, and no expense except the cost of your ceremonial costume,
epaulettes and honor beads. The latter are quite inexpensive. The honors are
divided into several classes, and for each honor a bead is given as a symbol
of your work. A special colored bead is given for each class. We shall meet
about once every week. The monthly meeting is called the 'Council Fire.' I
will tell you later about the 'Wohelo' ceremony. By the way, girls, 'Wohelo'
stands for work, health and love. You see, the word is composed of the first
two letters of each word."
The girls appeared to be greatly interested, and Mary felt very much
encouraged. Some of the girls left to talk it over with the homefolks, while
others, wishing to learn more of the organisation, plied Mary with
numerous questions. Finally, in desperation, she said: "Girls, I will read you
the following from the 'Camp Fire Girls' Handbook, which I received this
morning:"
'The purpose of this organization is to show that the common things of
daily life are the chief means of beauty, romance and adventure; to aid in
the forming of habits making for health and vigor, the out-of-door habit and
the out-of-door spirit; to devise ways of measuring and creating standards to
woman's work, and to give girls the opportunity to learn how to "keep step,"
to learn team work, through doing it; to help girls and women serve the
community, the larger home, in the same way they have always served the

individual home; to give status and social recognition to the knowledge of
the mother, and thus restore the intimate relationship of mothers and
daughters to each other.'
"Well, girls," said Mary, as she laid aside the book, "I think you all
understand what a benefit this will be to you, and I will do all in my power
to help you girls, while I am at the farm this summer. It is too late to tell
you any more today. The information I have given you will suffice for the
present. Three cheers for our Camp Fire! which will be under way in two
months, I trust."

The members of "Shawnee" Camp Fire held their first Council Fire, or
Ceremonial Meeting, the second week in July. The girls, all deeply
interested, worked hard to secure honors which were awarded for engaging
in domestic duties well known to the home, for studying and observing the
rules of hygiene and sanitation, and for learning and achievements in
various ways. They held weekly meetings and studied diligently to win the
rank of Fire Maker.
A girl, when she joins, becomes a Wood Gatherer; she then receives a
silver ring.
The weeks pass swiftly by, and it is time for another Camp Fire. The girls
selected as their meeting place for this occasion farmer Druckenmuller's
peach orchard, to which they walked, a distance of about three miles from
the home of Elizabeth Schmidt. They left about two o'clock in the
afternoon, intending to return home before nightfall, a good time being
anticipated, as they took with them lunch and materials for a corn-roast.
The peach orchard in question, covering many acres, was situated at the
foot of a low hill. Between the two flowed an enchanting, fairy-like stream,
the cultivated peach orchard on one side, and on the opposite side the
forest-like hill, covered with an abundance of wild flowers.
When the afternoon set for the Council Fire arrived, had you happened to
meet the fifteen merry, chattering girls, accompanied by two older girls,
Mary and Lucy Robbins (the country school teacher), as chaperones,
wending their way to the orchard, you, without a doubt, would have smiled

and a question might naturally have arisen regarding their sanity. They
certainly possessed intelligent faces, but why those queer-shaped Indian
dresses? And such an awkward length for a young girl's dress! And why
was their hair all worn hanging in one braid over each shoulder, with a band
over the forehead? Why so many strings of gaudy beads around their necks?
These questions may all be answered in one single sentence: The girls are
dressed in Ceremonial Costume.

ELIZABETH SCHMIDT "LAUGHING WATER"

A great many delays along the way were caused by girls asking the names
of the different wild flowers and weeds they noticed in passing. One of the
girls stopped to examine a prickly-looking plant about two feet high, with
little, blue flowers growing along the stem, and asked if any one knew the
name of it. They were about to look it up in a small "Flower Guide" owned

by one of the girls, when some one said: "Why, that is a weed called 'Vipers
Bougloss,'" They also found cardinal flower, thorn apple, monkey flower
and jewel-weed in abundance, wild sunflower, ginseng, early golden rod,
"Joe-pie-weed," marshallow, black cohosh and purple loose-trifle. The girls
also noticed various birds.
On a tall tree one of the girls espied a rose-breasted Grosbeak, rare in this
part of Bucks County. They all stopped and watched for a short time a
white-bellied Nut-hatch. The girls were startled as a Scarlet Tanger flew
past to join his mate, and they at last reached their rendezvous, the orchard.
By half-past three they were all seated in a circle waiting for the
ceremonies to begin. Mary Midleton, their Guardian, stepped to the front,
saying: "Sunflower, light the fire." Sunflower, through several months of
daily attainment, had become a Fire-maker and was very proud of the Fire-
maker's bracelet she was entitled to wear. Sunflower was given that name
because she always looked on the bright side of everything; she looked like
a sunflower, too, with her tanned face and light, curly hair.
All the girls had symbolical names given them. "Lark" was so named
because of her sweet voice and because she loved to sing; "Sweet Tooth,"
on account of her love for candy; "Quick Silver," because she was quick,
bright and witty; "Great Buffalo," a girl who was very strong; Elizabeth
Schmidt, "Laughing Water," so named because she laughed and giggled at
everybody and everything; "Babbling Brook," because it seemed an utter
impossibility for her to stop talking; "Burr," because she sticks to ideas and
friends; "Faith," quiet and reserved; "Comet," comes suddenly and brings a
lot of light; "Black Hawk," always eager at first, but inclined to let her
eagerness wear off: "Pocahontas," because she never can hurry; "Ginger
Foot," a fiery temper, "Gypsy," so named on account of her black hair;
"Bright Eyes," for her bright, blue eyes; "Rainbow," for her many ways, and
because she is pretty.
As "Sunflower" took the matches and knelt by the pile of wood and
lighted the fire, she recited the Ode to the Fire:
"Oh, Fire! Long years ago, when our fathers fought with great beasts, you
were their protector. From the cruel cold of winter you saved. When they
needed food, you changed the flesh of beasts into savory meat for them.

Through all ages your mysterious flame has been a symbol of the Great
Spirit to them. Tonight we light this fire in remembrance of the Great Spirit
Who gave you to us."
Then the girls sang the chant or chanted:

Wohelo for aye,
Wohelo for aye,
Wohelo for aye,
Wohelo for work,
Wohelo for health,
Wohelo,
Wohelo for love.

Then they recited the Wood-gatherer's Desire:
"It is my desire to be a Campfire Girl and keep the law of the Camp Fire,
which is 'To Seek Beauty, Give Service, Pursue Knowledge, Be
Trustworthy, Hold onto Health, Glorify Work, Be Happy,'"
None had yet attained the highest rank, that of Torch Bearer, won by still
greater achievement, the Camp having been organized so recently. Their
motto was "The light which has been given to me, I desire to pass
undimmed to others."
"Gypsy," the secretary, then read the "Count" for the last meeting and
called the roll, and the girls handed in the list of honors they had won in the
last month. Some amused themselves playing games, while others gathered
more wood.
At five o'clock the corn and white and sweet potatoes were in the fire
roasting. A jolly circle of girls around the fire were busily engaged toasting
"Weiners" for the feast, which was finally pronounced ready to be partaken
of. The hungry girls "fell to" and everything eatable disappeared as if by
magic; and last, but not least, was the toasting of marshmallows, speared on
the points of long, two-pronged sticks (broken from near-by trees), which
were held over the fire until the marshmallows turned a delicate color.
When everything had been eaten, with the exception of several cardboard

boxes, corn cobs and husks, the girls quickly cleared up. Then, seated
around the fire, told what they knew of Indian legends and folklore.
Noticing the sun slowly sinking in the West, they quickly gathered
together their belongings and started homeward singing, "My Country, 'tis
of Thee, Sweet Land of Liberty."
Thus broke up the second Council Fire, and in the heart of each girl was
the thought of how much the Campfire was helping them to love God and
His works.

CHAPTER XIV.
MARY MAKES "VIOLET" AND "ROSE LEAF" BEADS.

"Aunt Sarah," exclaimed Mary one day, "you promised to tell me exactly
how you made those 'Rose Beads' you have."
"Yes, my dear, and you must make the beads before the June roses are
gone. The process is very simple. If you would have them very sweet, get
the petals of the most fragrant roses. I used petals of the old-fashioned, pink
'hundred leaf' and 'blush roses.' Gather a quantity, for you will need them
all. Grind them to a pulp in the food chopper, repeat several times and place
the pulp and juice into an iron kettle or pan. This turns the pulp black,
which nothing but an iron kettle will do; cook, and when the consistency of
dough it is ready to mold into beads. Take a bit of the dough, again as large
as the size you wish your beads to be when finished, as they shrink in size
when dried, and make them of uniform size, or larger ones for the centre of
the necklace, as you prefer. Roll in the palms of your hands, until perfectly
round, stick a pin through each bead, then stick the pins into a bake board.
Be careful the bead does not touch the board, as that would spoil its shape.
Allow the beads to remain until perfectly dry. If they are to have a dull
finish, leave as they are. If you wish to polish them, take a tiny piece of
vaseline on the palm of the hand and rub them between the palms until the
vaseline is absorbed. Then string them on a linen thread. Keep in a closed
box to preserve their fragrance. Those I showed you, Mary, I made many
years ago, and the scent of the roses clings 'round them still.'"
"Did you know, Mary, that beads may be made from the petals of the
common wild blue violet in exactly the same manner as they are made from
rose leaves?"
"No, indeed, but I don't think the making of beads from the petals of roses
and violets as wonderful as the beads which you raise in the garden. Those
shiny, pearl-like seeds or beads of silvery-gray, called 'Job's Tears,' which

grow on a stalk resembling growing corn; and to think Professor Schmidt
raised those which Elizabeth strung on linen thread, alternately with beads,
for a portiere in their sitting-room."
"Yes, my dear, the beads must be pierced before they become hard; later
they should be polished. Did you ever see them grow, Mary? The beads or
'tears' grow on a stalk about fifteen inches high and from the bead or 'tear'
grows a tiny, green spear resembling oats. They are odd and with very little
care may he grown in a small garden."
"They certainly are a curiosity," said Mary.

CHAPTER XV.
MARY AND ELIZABETH VISIT SADIE SINGMASTER.

Farmer Landis, happening to mention at the breakfast table his intention
of driving over to the "Ax Handle Factory" to obtain wood ashes to use as a
fertilizer, his wife remarked, "Why not take Mary with you, John? She can
stop at Singmaster's with a basket of carpet rags for Sadie. I've been
wanting to send them over for some time." Turning to Mary, she said: "Poor
little, crippled Sadie! On account of a fall, which injured her spine, when a
small child, she has been unable to walk for years. She cuts and sews carpet
rags, given her by friends and neighbors, and from their sale to a carpet
weaver in a near-by town, helps her widowed mother eke out her small
income."
"I'd love to go see her," said Mary. Elizabeth Schmidt also expressed her
willingness to go, when asked, saying: "I am positive mother will add her
contribution to the carpet rags for Sadie, I do pity her so very much."
"Yes," said Mary's Aunt, "she is poor and proud. She will not accept
charity, so we persuade her to take carpet rags, as we have more than we
can possibly use."
On reaching the Singmaster cottage, the girls alighted with their well-
filled baskets, Mary's Uncle driving on to the "Ax Handle Factory,"
promising to call for the girls on his return. The sad, brown eyes of Sadie,
too large for her pinched, sallow face, shone with pleasure at sight of the
two young girls so near her own age, and she smiled her delight on
examining the numerous bright-colored patches brought by them. Thinking
the pleasure she so plainly showed might appear childish to the two girls,
she explained: "I do get so dreadfully tired sewing together so many dull
homely rags. I shall enjoy making balls of these pretty, bright colors."

"Sadie," Mary inquired, "will you think me inquisitive should I ask what
the carpet weaver pays you for the rags when you have sewed and wound
them into balls?"
"Certainly not," replied Sadie. "Four cents a pound is what he pays me. It
takes two of these balls to make a pound," and she held up a ball she had
just finished winding.
"Is that all you get?" exclaimed Elizabeth.
"Have you ever made rag rugs?" inquired Mary.
"No, I have never even seen one. Are they anything like braided mats?"
"Yes, they are somewhat similar to them, but I crochet mine and think
them prettier. I have made several, with Aunt Sarah's assistance. I'll come
over and teach you to make them one of these days, should you care to
learn, and I'm positive you will find ready sale for them. In fact, I've several
friends in the city who have admired the ones I have, and would like to buy
rugs for the Colonial rooms they are furnishing. Sadie, can you crochet?"
"Oh, yes. I can do the plain stitch very well."
"That is all that will be necessary. You will become very much interested
in inventing new designs, it is very fascinating work, and it will be more
remunerative than sewing carpet rags. Aunt Sarah will send you more
carpet rags if you require them, and should you wish dull colors of blue or
pink, a small package of dye will transform white or light-colored rags into
any desired shade, to match the furnishings of different rooms. I think the
crocheted rugs much prettier than the braided ones, which are so popular in
the 'Nutting' pictures, and the same pretty shades may be used when rugs
are crocheted."
When Farmer Landis came for the girls, he found them too busily
engaged talking to hear his knock at the door. During the drive home Mary
could think and talk of nothing but Sadie Singmaster, and the rugs she had
promised to teach her to make at an early day. Elizabeth, scarcely less
enthusiastic, said: "I've a lot of old things I'll give her to cut up for carpet
rags."

Reaching home, Mary could scarcely wait an opportunity to tell Aunt
Sarah all her plans for Sadie's betterment. When she finally did tell her
Aunt, she smiled and said: "Mary, I'm not surprised. You are always
planning to do a kind act for some one. You remind me of the lines, 'If I Can
Live,' by Helen Hunt Jackson." And she repeated the following for Mary:
IF I CAN LIVE.

If I can live
To make some pale face brighter and to give
A second luster to some tear-dimmed eye,
Or e'en impart
One throb of comfort to an aching heart,
Or cheer some wayworn soul in passing by;

If I can lend
A strong hand to the fallen, or defend
The right against a single envious strain,
My life, though bare,
Perhaps, of much that seemeth dear and fair
To us of earth, will not have been in vain.

The purest joy,
Most near to heaven, far from earth's alloy,
Is bidding cloud give way to sun and shine;
And 'twill be well
If on that day of days the angels tell
Of me, she did her best for one of Thine.

CHAPTER XVI.
OLD PARLOR MADE BEAUTIFUL (MODERNIZED).

When John Landis came into possession of "Clear Spring" Farm, where
his mother had lived during her lifetime, she having inherited it from her
father, the rooms of the old farm house were filled with quaint, old-
fashioned furniture of every description. "Aunt Sarah," on coming to the
farm to live, had given a personal touch and cheery, homelike look to every
room in the house, with one exception, the large, gloomy, old-fashioned
parlor, which was cold, cheerless and damp. She confessed to Mary she
always felt as if John's dead-and-gone ancestors' ghostly presences
inhabited the silent room. The windows were seldom opened to allow a ray
of sunlight to penetrate the dusk with which the room was always
enveloped, except when the regular weekly sweeping day arrived; when,
after being carefully swept and dusted, it was promptly closed. A room
every one avoided, Aunt Sarah was very particular about always having
fresh air and sunlight in every other part of the house but his one room. The
old fireplace had been boarded up many years before Aunt Sarah's advent to
the farm, so it could not be used. One day Mary noticed, while dusting the
room (after it had been given a thorough sweeping by Sibylla, Aunt Sarah's
one maid servant), that the small, many-paned windows facing the East, at
one end of the parlor, when opened, let in a flood of sunshine; and in the
evening those at the opposite end of the long room gave one a lovely view
of the setting sun—a finer picture than any painted by the hand of a master.
Mary easily persuaded her Aunt to make some changes in the unlivable
room. She suggested that they consult her Uncle about repapering and
painting the room and surprise him with the result when finished.
Aunt Sarah, who never did things by halves, said: "Mary, I have long
intended 'doing over' this room, but thought it such a great undertaking.
Now, with your assistance, I shall make a sweep of these old, antiquated
heirlooms of a past generation. This green carpet, with its gorgeous

bouquets of roses, we shall have combined with one of brown and tan in the
attic. Your Uncle shall take them with him when he drives to town and have
them woven into pretty, serviceable rugs for the floor."
"And, oh! Aunt Sarah," cried Mary, "do let's have an open fireplace. It
makes a room so cheery and 'comfy' when the weather gets colder, on long
winter evenings, to have a fire in the grate. I saw some lovely, old brass
andirons and fender in the attic, and some brass candlesticks there also,
which will do nicely for the mantel shelf over the fireplace. I'll shine 'em
up, and instead of this hideously-ugly old wall paper with gay-colored
scrawley figures, Aunt Sarah, suppose we get an inexpensive, plain, tan felt
paper for drop ceiling and separate it from the paper on the side wall, which
should be a warm, yellow-brown, with a narrow chestnut wood molding.
Then this dull, dark, gray-blue painted woodwork; could any one imagine
anything more hideously ugly? It gives me the 'blues' simply to look at it.
Could we not have it painted to imitate chestnut wood? And don't you think
we might paint the floor around the edges of the rug to imitate the
woodwork? Just think of those centre panels of the door painted a
contrasting shade of pale pink. The painter who did this work certainly was
an artist. A friend of mine in the city, wishing to use rugs instead of carpets
on her floors, and not caring to go to the expense of laying hardwood floors,
gave the old floors a couple of coats of light lemon, or straw-colored paint,
then stained and grained them a perfect imitation of chestnut, at small
expense. The floors were greatly admired when finished, and having been
allowed to dry thoroughly after being varnished, proved quite durable. I will
write to my friend at once and ask her exactly how her floors were treated."
"Now, Mary, about this old-style furniture. The old grandfather clock
standing in the corner, at the upper end of the room, I should like to have
remain. It is one hundred and fifty years old and belonged to my folks, and,
although old-fashioned, is highly valued by me."
"Of course," said Mary, "we'll certainly leave that in the room."
"Also," said Aunt Sarah, "allow the old cottage organ and large, old-
fashioned bookcase belonging to your Uncle to remain. He has frequently
spoken of moving his bookcase into the next room, when he was obliged to
come in here for books, of which he has quite a valuable collection."

A-24 Seed Wreath
A-25 Wax Fruit
A-26 Old Parlor Mantel
A-27 Old Clock
A-28 Boquet of Hair Flowers

"Oh," said Mary, "no need of that. We will move Uncle John in here, near
the bookcase, when we get our room fixed up. Aunt Sarah, we will leave
that old-fashioned table, also, with one leaf up against the wall, and this
quaint, little, rush-bottomed rocker, which I just dote on."
"Why, dear," exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "there are several chairs to match it
in the attic, which you may have when you start housekeeping for your very
own. And," laughingly, said her Aunt, "there is another old, oval, marble-
topped table in the attic, containing a large glass case covering a basket of
wax fruit, which you may have."
"No, Aunt Sarah," said Mary, "I don't believe I want the fruit, but I will
accept your offer of the table. Well, Aunt Sarah, I know you won't have this
old, black what-not standing in the corner of the room. I do believe it is
made of spools, strung on wire, as supports for the shelves; then all painted
black, imitation of ebony, I suppose. It must have been made in the Black
Age, at the same time the old corner cupboard was painted, as Uncle John
told me he scraped off three different layers of paint before doing it over,
and one was black. It was originally made of cherry. It certainly looks fine
now, with those new brass hinges and pretty, old-fashioned glass knobs."
"Yes, Mary," replied her Aunt, "and there is an old corner cupboard in the
attic which belonged to my father, that you may have, and, with a very little
labor and expense, Ralph can make it look as well as mine. It has only one
door and mine possesses two."
"Aunt Sarah," exclaimed Mary, "you are a dear! How will I ever repay
you for all your kindness to me?"
"By passing it on to some one else when you find some one needing
help," said Aunt Sarah.

"Such a collection of odd things, Aunt Sarah, as are on this what-not I
never saw. Old ambrotypes and daguerreotypes of gone and forgotten
members of the 'freinshoft,' as you sometimes say. I don't believe you know
any of them."
"Yes, the red plush frame on the mantel shelf contains a picture of John's
Uncle, a fine-looking man, but he possessed 'Wanderlust' and has lived in
California for many years.
"Oh, you mean the picture on the mantel standing near those twin gilded
china vases, gay with red and blue paint?"
"Yes; and that small china and gilt stand with little bowl and pitcher was
given me when a small child."
"Suppose I bring a basket and we will fill it with articles from the mantel
and what-not," said Mary, "and carry them all to the attic, until you have a
rummage sale some day. We'll burn these 'everlasting' and 'straw' flowers,
and pampas grass, and this large apple stuck full of cloves. Here is a small
china dog and a little china basket with a plaited china handle decorated
with gilt, and tiny, pink-tinted china roses. And these large, glass marbles
containing little silver eagles inside; also this small, spun-glass ship and
blue-and-pink-striped glass pipe. Aunt Sarah, some of your ancestors must
have attended a glass blowers' exhibition in years past."
"This branch of white coral, these large snail shells (when a child I
remember holding them to my ear to hear a noise resembling the roar of the
ocean), and this small basket, fashioned of twigs and tendrils of grape vine,
then dipped in red sealing wax, certainly is a good imitation of coral, and
this plate, containing a miniature ship composed of green postage stamps,
we will place in your corner cupboard."
"And, Aunt Sarah, I suppose this deep, glass-covered picture frame
containing a bouquet of hair flowers, most wonderfully and fearfully made,
was considered a work of art in days past and gone, as was also the crescent
in a frame on the opposite side of the room, composed of flowers made of
various seeds of grain and garden vegetables. Those daisies, made of
cucumber seeds with grains of red corn for centres, and those made of tiny
grains of popcorn with a watermelon seed in centre, are cute. The latter look

like breastpins with a circle of pearls around the edge. And this glass case
on the table, containing a white cross, covered with wax tube roses, ivy
leaves and fuchsias drooping from the arms of the cross, sparkling with
diamond dust! The band of green chenille around its base matches the mat
underneath, composed of green zephyr of different shades, knitted, then
raveled to imitate moss, I suppose; and, no doubt, this marble-topped table
has stood here for fifty years, in this same spot, for the express purpose of
holding this beautiful (?) work of art."
"The hair flowers and the seed wreath were made by John's sister," replied
Aunt Sarah.
"Aunt Sarah," exclaimed Mary, "I've an original idea. This oval, marble-
topped table has such strong, solid legs of black walnut, suppose we remove
the marble slab and have a large, circular top made of wood at the planing
mill? Wait; I'll get my tape measure. About thirty-two inches in diameter
will do. The new top we shall stain to match the walnut frame, and it could
be easily fastened to the table with a couple of screws; and, after the marble
top has been well scoured, we'll use it in the kitchen as a bake board on
which to roll out pie crust."
Her Aunt as usual acquiesced to all Mary's suggestions.
"You're a dear, Aunt Sarah!" exclaimed Mary, as she gave her a hug, "and
I'll embroider big, yellow daisies with brown centres of French knots on
gray linen for a new table cover. Won't they look just sweet?"
"Yes, Mary, and I'll buy a large, new lamp with a pretty shade, as I feel
sure your Uncle will like to sit here evenings to read his papers and farm
journals."
"And don't forget the Shriners' little magazine, The Crescent, which
amuses him so greatly. Aunt Sarah, I do wish those stiff, starchy-looking,
blue-white Nottingham lace curtains at the windows had grown yellow with
age. They would be ever so much prettier and softer looking, and they are
such a pretty, neat design, too."
"Oh!" replied her Aunt, "that may be easily remedied. I'll just dip them
into a little weak liquid coffee and that will give them a creamy tint, and
take out the stiffness."

"Now," said Mary, "what shall we do with these stiff, ugly, haircloth-
covered chairs and sofa?"
"Why," replied Aunt Sarah, "we shall buy cretonne or art cloth, in pretty
shades of brown and tan or green, to harmonize with the wall paper, and
make slip covers for them all. We could never think of dispensing with the
sofa. It is a very important article of furniture in German households. The
hostess usually gives the person of greatest distinction among her guests the
place of honor beside her on the sofa."
"These chairs have such strong, well-made, mahogany frames it would be
a pity not to use them. Now," continued Mary, "about the pictures on the
wall. Can't we consign them all to the attic? We might use some of the
frames. I'll contribute unframed copies of 'The Angelus' and 'The Gleaners,'
by Millet; and I think they would fit into these plain mahogany frames
which contain the very old-fashioned set of pictures named respectively
'The Lovers,' 'The Declaration,' 'The Lovers' Quarrel' and 'The Marriage.'
They constitute a regular art gallery. I'll use a couple of the frames for some
small Colonial and apple blossom pictures I have, that I just love, by
Wallace Nutting. Mine are all unframed; 'Maiden Reveries,' 'A Canopied
Roof' and a 'Ton of Bloom,' I think are sweet. Those branches of apple trees,
covered with a mass of natural-looking pink blossoms, are exquisite."
"Yes," remarked Aunt Sarah, "they look exactly like our old Baldwin,
Winesap and Cider apple trees in the old, south meadow in the Spring. And,
Mary, we'll discard those two chromos, popular a half century ago, of two
beautiful cherubs called respectively, 'Wide Awake' and 'Fast Asleep,' given
as premiums to a popular magazine. I don't remember if the magazine was
'Godey's,' 'Peterson's' or 'Home Queen'; they have good, plain, mahogany
frames which we can use."
"And, Aunt Sarah," said Mary, "we can cut out the partition in this large,
black-walnut frame, containing lithograph pictures of General George
Washington, 'the Father of his Country' (we are informed in small letters at
the bottom of the picture), and of General Andrew Jackson, 'the hero of
New Orleans.' Both men are pictured on horseback, on gayly-caparisoned,
prancing white steeds, with scarlet saddle cloth, edged with gold bullion
fringe. The Generals are pictured clad in blue velvet coats with white

facings of cloth or satin vest and tight-fitting knee breeches, also white and
long boots reaching to the knee. Gold epaulettes are on their shoulders, and
both are in the act of lifting their old-fashioned Continental hats, the
advancing army showing faintly in the background. How gorgeously they
are arrayed! We will use this frame for the excellent, large copy you have of
'The Doctor' and the pictured faces of the German composers—Beethoven,
Wagner, Mendelssohn, Haydn, Schubert and Mozart, which I have on a card
with a shaded brown background, will exactly fit into this plain frame of
narrow molding, from which I have just removed the old cardboard motto,
'No place like home,' done with green-shaded zephyr in cross-stitch."

A-29 An Old Sampler
A-30 Old Woven Basket
A-31 Wax Cross
A-32 Old Spinning Wheel

"Now, Mary, with the couple of comfortable rockers which I intend
purchasing, I think we have about finished planning our room."
"If you are willing, Aunt Sarah, I should like to make some pretty green
and brown cretonne slips to cover those square sofa pillows in place of the
ones made of small pieces of puffed silk and the one of colored pieces of
cashmere in log cabin design, I do admire big, fat, plain, comfortable
pillows, for use instead of show. And we must have a waste paper basket
near the table beside Uncle John's chair. I shall contribute green satin ribbon
for an immense bow on the side of the basket. Oh! Aunt Sarah! You've
forgotten all about this odd, woven basket, beside the what-not, filled with
sea shells. I don't care for the shells, but the basket would make a lovely
sewing basket."
"You may have the basket, Mary, if you like it. It came from Panama, or
perhaps it was bought at Aspinwall by John's Uncle, many years ago, when
he came home on a visit from California, by way of the Isthmus, to visit old
friends and relatives. John's Mother always kept it standing on the floor in
one corner of the room beside the what-not."
"Aunt Sarah, why was straw ever put under this carpet?"
"The straw was put there, my dear, to save the carpet, should the boards
on the floor be uneven. My Mother was always particular about having cut
rye straw, because it was softer and finer than any other. It was always used
in those days instead of the carpet linings we now have. I remember
sometimes, when the carpet had been newly laid, in our home, immediately
after house cleaning time, the surface of the floor looked very odd; full of
bumps and raised places in spots, until frequent walking over it flattened
down the straw. This room happens to have a particularly good, even floor,
as this part of the house was built many years later than the original, old
farm house, else it would not do to have it painted."

"Aunt Sarah, may I have the old spinning wheel in the attic? I'd love to
furnish an old Colonial bedroom when I have a home of my very own. I'll
use the rag carpet you made me for the floor, the old-fashioned, high-post
bed Uncle John said I might have, and the 'New Colonial' rugs you taught
me to make.
"Yes, my dear, and there is another old grandfather's clock in the attic
which you may have; and a high-boy also, for which I have no particular
use."
"Aunt Sarah, we shall not put away this really beautiful old sampler
worked in silk by Uncle John's grandmother when a girl of nine years. It is
beautifully done, and is wonderful, I think. And what is this small frame
containing a yellowed piece of paper cut in intricate designs, presumably
with scissors?"
"Look on the back of the picture and see what is written there, my dear,"
said her Aunt.
Mary slowly read: "'This is the only picture I owned before my marriage.
I earned the money to buy it by gathering wheat heads.'"
"It belonged to my grandmother," said Aunt Sarah. "In old times, after the
reapers had left the field, the children were allowed to gather up the wheat
remaining, and, I suppose, grandmother bought this picture with the money
she earned herself, and considered it quite a work of art in her day. It is over
one hundred years old."

CHAPTER XVII.
AN OLD SONG EVENING.

Aunt Sarah and Mary spent few idle moments while carrying out their
plans for "doing over" the old parlor. Finally, 'twas finished. Mary breathed
a sigh of satisfaction as the last picture was hung on the wall. She turned to
her Aunt, saying, "Don't you think the room looks bright, cheery and
livable?"
"Yes," replied her Aunt, "and what is more essential, homey, I have read
somewhere, 'A woman's house should be as personal a matter as a spider's
web or a snail's shell; and all the thought, toil and love she puts into it
should be preserved a part of its comeliness and homelikeness forever, and
be her monument to the generations.'"
"Well, Aunt Sarah," replied Mary, "I guess we've earned our monument.
The air that blows over the fields, wafted in from the open window, is sweet
with the scent of grain and clover, and certainly is refreshing. I'm dreadfully
tired, but so delighted with the result of our labors. Now we will go and
'make ready,' as Sibylla says, before the arrival of Ralph from the city. I do
hope the ice cream will be frozen hard. The Sunshine Sponge Cake, which I
baked from a recipe the Professor's wife gave me, is light as a feather. 'Tis
Ralph's favorite cake. Let's see; besides Ralph there are coming all the
Schmidts, Lucy Robbins, the school teacher, and Sibylla entertains her Jake
in the kitchen. I promised to treat him to ice cream; Sibylla was so good
about helping me crack the ice to use for freezing the cream. We shall have
an 'Old Song Evening' that will amuse every one."
Quite early, as is the custom in the country, the guests for the evening
arrived; and both Mary and Aunt Sarah felt fully repaid for their hard work
of the past weeks by the pleasure John Landis evinced at the changed
appearance of the room.

The Professor's wife said, "It scarcely seems possible to have changed the
old room so completely."
Aunt Sarah replied, "Paint and paper do wonders when combined with
good taste, furnished by Mary."
During the evening one might have been forgiven for thinking Professor
Schmidt disloyal to the Mother Country (he having been born and educated
in Heidelberg) had you overheard him speaking to Ralph on his favorite
subject, the "Pennsylvania German." During a lull in the general
conversation in the room Mary heard the Professor remark to Ralph: "The
Pennsylvania Germans are a thrifty, honest and industrious class of people,
many of whom have held high offices. The first Germans to come to
America as colonists in Pennsylvania were, as a rule, well to do. Experts,
when examining old documents of Colonial days, after counting thousands
of signatures, found the New York 'Dutch' and the Pennsylvania 'Germans'
were above the average in education in those days. Their dialect, the so-
called 'Pennsylvania German' or 'Dutch,' as it is erroneously called by many,
is a dialect which we find from the Tauber Grund to Frankfurt, A.M. As the
German language preponderated among the early settlers, the language of
different elements, becoming amalgamated, formed a class of people
frequently called 'Pennsylvania Dutch'."
Professor Harbaugh, D.D., has written some beautiful poems in
Pennsylvania German which an eminent authority, Professor Kluge, a
member of the Freiburg University, Germany, has thought worthy to be
included among the classics. They are almost identical with the poems
written by Nadler in Heidelberger Mundart, or dialect.
Mary, who had been listening intently to the Professor, said, when he
finished talking to Ralph: "Oh, please, do repeat one of Professor
Harbaugh's poems for us."
He replied, "I think I can recall several stanzas of 'Das Alt Schulhaus an
der Krick.' Another of Professor Harbaugh's poems, and I think one of the
sweetest I have ever read, is 'Heemweeh.' Both poems are published in his
book entitled 'Harbaugh's Harfe,' in Pennsylvania German dialect, and
possess additional interest from the fact that the translations of these poems,
in the latter part of the same book, were made by the author himself."

"Oh, do repeat all that you remember of both the poems," begged Mary.
The Professor consented, saying: "As neither you nor Mr. Jackson
understand the Pennsylvania German dialect, I shall translate them for you,
after repeating what I remember. 'Heemweeh' means Homesickness, but
first I shall give you 'Das Alt Schulhaus an der Krick'."

[A]DAS ALT SCHULHAUS AN DER KRICK.

Heit is 's 'xactly zwansig Johr,
Dass ich bin owwe naus;
Nau bin ich widder lewig z'rick
Un schteh am Schulhaus an d'r Krick,
Juscht neekscht an's Dady's Haus.

Ich bin in hunnert Heiser g'west,
Vun Marbelstee' un Brick,
Un alles was sie hen, die Leit,
Dhet ich verschwappe eenig Zeit
For's Schulhaus an der Krick.

* * * * * * *

Der Weisseech schteht noch an der Dhier—
Macht Schatte iwwer's Dach:
Die Drauwerank is ah noch grie'—
Un's Amschel-Nescht—guk juscht mol hi'—
O was is dess en Sach!

* * * * * * *

Do bin ich gange in die Schul,
Wo ich noch war gans klee';
Dort war der Meeschter in seim Schtuhl,
Dort war sei' Wip, un dort sei' Ruhl,—
Ich kann's noch Alles sch'.

Die lange Desks rings an der Wand—
Die grose Schieler drum;
Uf eener Seit die grose Mad,
Un dort die Buwe net so bleed—
Guk, wie sie piepe rum!

* * * * * * *

Oh horcht, ihr Leit, wu nooch mir lebt,
Ich schreib eich noch des Schtick:
Ich warn eich, droll eich, gebt doch Acht,
Un memmt uf immer gut enacht,
Des Schulhaus an der Krick!
[A]
From "Harbaugh's Harfe." Published by the Publication and
Sunday School Board of the Reformed Church, Philadelphia, Pa.
Used by permission.

THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE AT THE CREEK.

Today it is just twenty years,
Since I began to roam;
Now, safely back, I stand once more,
Before the quaint old school-house door,
Close by my father's home.

I've been in many houses since,
Of marble built, and brick;
Though grander far, their aim they miss,
To lure heart's old love from this
Old school-house at the creek.

* * * * * * *

The white-oak stands before the door,
And shades the roof at noon;
The grape-vine, too, is fresh and green;

The robin's nest!—Ah, hark!—I ween
That is the same old tune!

* * * * * * *

'Twas here I first attended school,
When I was very small;
There was the Master on his stool,
There was his whip and there his rule—
I seem to see it all.

The long desks ranged along the walls,
With books and inkstands crowned;
Here on this side the large girls sat,
And there the tricky boys on that—
See! how they peep around!

* * * * * * *

Ye, who shall live when I am dead—
Write down my wishes quick—
Protect it, love it, let it stand,
A way-mark in this changing land—
That school-house at the creek.

HEEMWEH.

Ich wees net was die Ursach is—
Wees net, warum ich's dhu:
'N jedes Johr mach ich der Weg
Der alte Heemet zu;
Hab weiter nix zu suche dort—
Kee' Erbschaft un kee' Geld;
Un doch treibt mich des Heemgefiehl
So schtark wie alle Welt;
Nor'd schtart ich ewe ab un geh,
Wie owe schun gemeldt.

Wie nacher dass ich kumm zum Ziel,
Wie schtarker will ich geh,
For eppes in mei'm Herz werd letz
Un dhut m'r kreislich weh.
Der letschte Hiwel schpring ich nuf;
Un ep ich drowe bin,
Schtreck ich mich uf so hoch ich kann
Un guk mit Luschte hin;
Ich seh's alt Schtee'haus dorch die Beem,
Un wott ich war schunm drin.

* * * * * * *

Wie gleich ich selle Babble Beem,
Sie schtehn wie Brieder dar;
Un uf'm Gippel—g'wiss ich leb!
Hockt alleweil 'n Schtaar!
'S Gippel biegt sich—guk, wie's gaunscht—
'R hebt sich awer fescht;
Ich seh sei' rothe Fliegle plehn,
Wann er sei' Feddere wescht;
Will wette, dass sei' Fraale hot
Uf sellem Baam 'n Nescht!

* * * * * * *

Guk! werklich, ich bin schier am Haus!—
Wie schnell geht doch die Zeit!
Wann m'r so in Gedanke geht.
So wees m'r net wie weit.
Dort is d'r Schhap, die Walschkornkrip,
Die Seiderpress dort draus;
Dort is die Scheier, un dort die Schpring—
Frisch quellt des Wasser raus;
Un guk! die sehm alt Klapbord-Fens,
Un's Dheerle vor'm Haus.

* * * * * * *

Zwee Blatz sin do uf dare Bortsch,
Die halt ich hoch in Acht,
Bis meines Lebens Sonn versinkt
In schtiller Dodtes-Nacht!
Wo ich vum alte Vaterhaus
'S erscht mol bin gange fort.
Schtand mei' Mammi weinend da,
An sellem Rigel dort:
Un nix is mir so heilig nau
Als grade seller Ort.

* * * * * * *

Was macht's dass ich so dort hi' guk,
An sell End vun der Bank!
Weescht du's? Mei' Herz is noch net dodt,
Ich wees es, Got sei Dank!
Wie manchmal sass mai Dady dort,
Am Summer-Nochmiddag,
Die Hande uf der Schoos gekreizt,
Sei Schtock bei Seite lag.
Was hot er dort im Schtille g'denkt?
Wer mecht es wisse—sag?
HOME-SICK NESS.

I know not what the reason is:
Where'er I dwell or roam,
I make a pilgrimage each year,
To my old childhood home.
Have nothing there to give or get—
No legacy, no gold—
Yet by some home-attracting power
I'm evermore controlled;
This is the way the homesick do,
I often have been told.

* * * * * * *

As nearer to the spot I come
More sweetly am I drawn;
And something in my heart begins
To urge me faster on.
Ere quite I've reached the last hilltop—
You'll smile at me, I ween!—
I stretch myself high as I can,
To catch the view serene—
The dear old stone house through the trees
With shutters painted green!

* * * * * * *

How do I love those poplar trees;
What tall and stalely things!
See! on the top of one just now
A starling sits and sings.
He'll fall!—the twig bends with his weight!
He likes that danger best.
I see the red upon his wings,—
Dark shining is the rest.
I ween his little wife has built
On that same tree her nest.

* * * * * * *

See! really I am near the house;
How short the distance seems!
There is no sense of time when one
Goes musing in his dreams.
There is the shop—the corn-crib, too—
The cider-press—just see!
The barn—the spring with drinking cup
Hung up against the tree.
The yard-fence—and the little gate
Just where it used to be.

* * * * * * *

Two spots on this old friendly porch
I love, nor can forget,
Till dimly in the night of death
My life's last sun shall set!
When first I left my father's house,
One summer morning bright,
My mother at that railing wept
Till I was out of sight!
Now like a holy star that spot
Shines in this world's dull night.

* * * * * * *

What draws my eye to yonder spot—
That bench against the wall?
What holy mem'ries cluster there,
My heart still knows them all!
How often sat my father there
On summer afternoon;
Hands meekly crossed upon his lap,
He looked so lost and lone,
As if he saw an empty world,
And hoped to leave it soon.
At the conclusion of his recital, Mary heartily thanked the Professor, and,
at his request, obediently seated herself at the old, but still sweet-toned
cottage organ, and expressed her willingness to play any old-time songs or
hymns requested, and saying, "I know Aunt Sarah's favorite," commenced
playing, "My Latest Sun is Sinking Fast," followed by "This Old-Time
Religion," "Jesus, Lover of My Soul," "One of the Sweet Old Chapters,"
"Silver Threads Among the Gold" and the sweet old hymn, "In the Summer
Land of Song," by Fanny Crosby.
At John Landis' request, she played and sang "Auld Lang Syne." "When
You and I Were Young, Maggie," "Old Folks at Home" and "Old Black
Joe."

Lucy Robbins, when asked for her favorites, replied; "In the Gloaming,"
"The Old, Old Home'" "The Lost Chord" and "Better Bide a Wee."
The Professor then asked his daughter Elizabeth to give them the music of
a song from German Volkslied, or Folk Song, with the words of which all
except Mary and Ralph were familiar. Professor Schmidt sang in his high,
cracked voice to Elizabeth's accompaniment the words of the German song,
beginning:

Du, Du liegest mir in Herzen
Du, Du liegst mir in Sinn
Du, Du machst mir viel Schmerzen
Weist nicht wie gut ich Dir binn
Ja, ja, ja, ja, Du weist nicht wie gut ich Dir bin.

The young folks all joined in the chorus. Fritz Schmidt asked Elizabeth to
play "Polly Wolly Doodle" for little Pollykins, which Frit sang with gusto.
Fritz then sang the rollicking German song, "Lauderbach," to an
accompaniment played by Mary, and followed by singing "Johnny
Schmoker," with appropriate gestures in the chorus commencing "My Pilly,
Willy Wink, das is mein fifa," etc., ending with "My fal, lal, lal, my whach,
whach, das ist mein doodle soch," which he emphasised by shrugging his
shoulders, to the no small enjoyment of the young folks, who thought the
silly, old German song no end of fun. This was followed by a favorite
college song, "Mandalay," by Fritz.
Then Elizabeth Schmidt played and sang a pretty little German song
called "Meuhlen Rad," meaning The Mill Wheel, taught her by her mother.

MEUHLEN RAD.

In einen kuhlen grunde
Da steht ein meuhlen rad;
Mein libste ist versch wunden,
Die dort gewhoned hat;
Sie sat mir treu versprochen,
Gab ihr ein ring dabei;

Sie hat die treu gebrochen,
Das ringlein sprang entzwei.
She translated it for the benefit of Ralph and Mary: "In a cool, pleasant
spot, stands a mill. My loved one, who lived there, has disappeared. She
promised to be true to me, and I gave her a ring. She broke her promise and
the ring broke in two."
Fritz then caught his little sister Pauline around the waist and waltzed her
to one end of the long room, saying: "Mary, play the piece, 'Put On Your
Old Gray Bonnet,' and Pollykins and I will do the cakewalk for you."
Polly, who had become quite a proficient little dancer under her sister's
teaching, was very willing to do her share in the evening's entertainment,
and it was pronounced a decided success.
Mary then said, "I'll play my favorite schottische, composed by our old
friend, the Professor. I have not yet procured a copy of his latest piece of
music, 'The Passing of the Dahlias.' I think it is still with the publishers."
Mary, after playing "Rock of Ages," left the room to see about serving
refreshments, when Elizabeth Schmidt took her place at the instrument.
After playing "The Rosary," she turned to Ralph, who had been greatly
amused by the German songs on the program, all of which were quite new
to him, and said: "What shall I play for you?"
He replied, "'My Little Irish Rose'—no, I mean 'The River Shannon.'"
"Don't you mean 'That Grand Old Name Called Mary?'" mischievously
inquired Fritz Schmidt, who could not refrain from teasing Ralph, which
caused a laugh at his expense, as all present were aware of his love for
Mary. Elizabeth, to cover Ralph's confusion, quickly replied: "I'll play my
favorite, 'The End of a Perfect Day.'"
The party was pronounced a success, and broke up at a late hour for
country folks. Before leaving, Mary's Uncle said: "Now, let's sing 'Home,
Sweet Home,' and then all join in singing that grand old hymn, 'My
Country, 'Tis of Thee,' to the new tune by our friend, the Bucks County
Editor."

PALASADES OR NARROWS OF NOCKAMIXON

CHAPTER XVIII.
A VISIT TO THE "PENNSYLVANIA PALISADES," AS THE
"NARROWS" OF THE DELAWARE RIVER ARE CALLED.

All hailed with delight Aunt Sarah's proposal that the Schmidt and Landis
families, on the Fourth of July, drive over to the Narrows, visit Aunt Sarah's
old home at Nockamixon, and see the "Ringing Rocks" and "High Falls,"
situated a short distance from the rocks, near which place picnics were
frequently held. John Landis readily agreed to the proposed plan, saying,
"The meadow hay and clover are cut, and I'll not cut the wheat until the
fifth day of July."
The third of July was a busy day at both farm houses, preparing savory
food of every description with which to fill hampers for the next day's
outing. Small Polly Schmidt was so perfectly happy, at the thought of a
proposed picnic, she could scarcely contain herself, and as her sister
Elizabeth said, "did nothing but get in every one's way." Little Polly, being
easily offended, trudged over to the Landis farm to see Mary, with whom
she knew she was a great favorite.
The morning of the Fourth dawned bright and clear. Quite early, while the
earth was still enveloped in a silvery mist, and on the lattice work of filmy
cobwebs, spun over weeds and grass, dewdrops, like tiny diamonds,
sparkled and glistened, until dissolved by the sun's warm rays, the gay party
left home, for the "Palisades" were quite a distance from the farm, to drive
being the only way of reaching the place, unless one boarded the gasoline
motorcar, called the "Cornfield Express" by farmers living in the vicinity of
Schuggenhaus Township.
There is something indescribably exhilarating about starting for an early
drive in the country before sunrise on a bright, clear morning in
midsummer, when "the earth is awaking, the sky and the ocean, the river

and forest, the mountain and plain." Who has not felt the sweet freshness of
early morning before "the sunshine is all on the wing" or the birds awaken
and begin to chatter and to sing? There is a hush over everything; later is
heard the lowing of cattle, the twitter of birds and hum of insect life,
proclaiming the birth of the new day. Passing an uncultivated field,
overgrown with burdock, wild carrots, mullein, thistle and milk weed, Mary
alighted and gathered some of the pods of the latter, inclosing imitation of
softest down, which she used later for filling sofa pillows.
"Look at those pretty wild canaries!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "yellow as
gold, swinging on the stem of a tall weed."
"Professor Schmidt, can you tell me the name of that weed?" questioned
Mary. "I have always admired the plant, with its large leaves and long,
drooping racemes of crimson seeds.
"That," replied the Professor, "is a foreign plant, a weed called Equisetum
from 'Equi,' a horse, and 'Setum'—tail. The country folk hereabout call it
'Horsetail.' It belongs to the Crptogamous or flowerless plants. There are
only four specimens of this plant in America. I, too, have always greatly
admired the plant."
The Professor was quite a noted botanist. There were few flowers, plants
or weeds of which he was ignorant of the name or medicinal value. Another
bird lazily picked seeds from the thistle blossoms. "See," exclaimed Aunt
Sarah, "one bird has a spear of grass in its mouth!"
"Yellow star grass," said the Professor, "with which to make a nest. They
never mate until the last of June, or first part of July. The tiny, little robbers
ate up nearly all my sunflower seeds in the garden last summer."
"Well," replied Mary, "you know, Professor, the birds must have food.
They are the farmer's best friend. I hope you don't begrudge them a few
sunflower seeds, I love birds. I particularly admire the 'Baltimore Oriole,'
with their brilliant, orange-colored plumage; they usually make their
appearance simultaneously with the blossoms in the orchard in the south
meadow; or so Aunt Sarah tells me. I love to watch them lazily swinging on
the high branches of tall trees. On the limb of a pear tree in the orchard one
day, I saw firmly fastened, a long, pouch-like nest, woven with rare skill.

Securely fastened to the nest by various colored pieces of twine and thread
was one of smaller size, like a lean-to added to a house, as if the original
nest had been found too small to accommodate the family of young birds
when hatched. The oriole possesses a peculiar, sweet, high-whistled trill,
similar to this—'La-la-la-la,' which always ends with the rising inflection."
Fritz Schmidt, who had been listening intently to Mary, gravely remarked,
"An oriole built a nest on a tall tree outside my bedroom window, and early
every morning, before the family arise, I hear it sing over and over again
what sounds exactly like 'Lais Die Beevil!' which translated means 'Read
your Bible'."
"Even the birds are 'Dutch,' I believe, in Bucks County," said Fritz. "I
think these must be German Mennonites, there being quite a settlement of
these honest, God-fearing people living on farms at no great distance from
our place."

THE CANAL AT THE NARROWS

As they drove along the country road, parallel with the Delaware River,
just before reaching the Narrows. Mary was greatly attracted by the large
quantities of yellow-white "sweet clover," a weed-like plant found along the
Delaware River, growing luxuriantly, with tall, waving stems two to four
feet high. The clover-like flowers, in long, loose racemes, terminating the
branches, were so fragrant that, like the yellow evening primrose, the scent

was noticeable long before one perceived the flowers. And, strange to tell,
sweet clover was never known to grow in this locality until the seed was
washed up on the bank of the river some ten or twelve years previous to the
date of my story, when the Delaware River was higher than it was ever
before known to be.
"The first place we shall visit," said Aunt Sarah, "will be my
grandmother's old home, or rather, the ruins of the old home. It passed out
of our family many years ago; doors and windows are missing and walls
ready to tumble down. You see that old locust tree against one side the
ruined wall of the house?" and with difficulty she broke a branch from the
tree saying, "Look, see the sharp, needle-shaped thorns growing on the
branch! They were used by me when a child to pin my dolls' dresses
together. In those days, pins were too costly to use; and look at that large,
flat rock not far distant from the house! At the foot of that rock, when a
child of ten, I buried the 'Schild Krote Family' dolls, made from punk (when
told I was too big a girl to play with dolls). I shed bitter tears, I remember.
Alas! The sorrows of childhood are sometimes deeper than we of maturer
years realize."
"Why did you give your family of dolls such an odd name, Aunt Sarah?"
questioned Mary.
"I do not remember," replied her Aunt. "Schild Krote is the German name
for turtle. I presume the name pleased my childish fancy."
"Suppose we visit my great-great-grandfather's grave in the near-by
woods. I think I can locate it, although so many years have passed since I
last visited it."
Passing through fields overgrown with high grass, wild flowers and
clover, they came to the woods. Surprising to say, scarcely any underbrush
was seen, but trees everywhere—stately Lebanon cedars, spruce and
spreading hemlock, pin oaks, juniper trees which later would be covered
with spicy, aromatic berries; also beech trees. Witch hazel and hazel nut
bushes grew in profusion. John Landis cut a large branch from a sassafras
tree to make a new spindle on which to wind flax, for Aunt Sarah's old
spinning wheel (hers having been broken), remarking as he did so, "My
mother always used a branch of sassafras wood, having five, prong-like

branches for this purpose, when I was a boy, and she always placed a piece
of sassafras root with her dried fruit."
The Professor's wife gathered an armful of yarrow, saying, "This is an
excellent tonic and should always be gathered before the flowers bloom. I
wonder if there is any boneset growing anywhere around here."
Boneset, a white, flowering, bitter herb, dearly beloved and used by the
Professor's wife as one of the commonest home remedies in case of
sickness, and equally detested by both Fritz and Pauline.

THE NARROWS OR PENNSYLVANIA PALISADES

Mary gathered a bouquet of wild carrot, or "Queen Anne's Lace," with its
exquisitely fine, lace-like flowers with pale green-tinted centres. Mary's
Uncle could not agree with her in praise of the dainty wild blossoms. He
said: "Mary, I consider it the most detested weed with which I am obliged to
contend on the farm."

TOP ROCK

After quite a long, tiresome walk in the hot sun, they discovered the
lonely grave, covered with a slab of granite surrounded by a small iron
railing and read the almost illegible date—"Seventeen Hundred and Forty."
Ralph said, "If he ever sighed for a home in some vast wilderness, his wish
is granted." It certainly was a lonely grave in the deep woods, and gave all
the members of the party a sad and eerie feeling as they wended their way
out into the sunlight again, to the waiting carriages, and were soon driving
swiftly along the Narrows, as they have been called from time immemorial
by the inhabitants, although I prefer the name of Pennsylvania Palisades, as
they are sometimes called.
Said Professor Schmidt: "Numerous tourists visit the Narrows every year.
The Narrows are said to resemble somewhat the Palisades on the Hudson. I
have seen, the latter and think these greatly resemble them and are quite as
interesting and picturesque."
"The name Narrows is derived from the fact that at this place the
Delaware River has forced itself through the rocky barrier," continued the
Professor, "hedged in on one side by cliffs of perpendicular rock, three
hundred feet high, extending some distance along the river, leaving scarcely
room at some places for the river and the canal. Some quite rare plants grow
here, said to be found in few other localities in the United States. You see
the highest flat rock along the Narrows? It is called 'Top Rock' and rises to a
height of more than three hundred feet. We shall drive around within a short
distance of it; then, after passing a small house, we are obliged to walk
across a field of ploughed ground; follow the well-beaten path between
trees and undergrowth, and 'Top Rock' is before us. Stepping upon the high
ledge of rock projecting out over the road beneath, we discover it may also
be reached by following a precipitous path and clinging to bushes and trees,
but none of the party venture. Recently the body of a man who had been
searching for rare birds' eggs on the side of this self-same rock was found
dead on the path below the rocks. What caused his fall is not known. No
wonder Aunt Sarah says it makes her dizzy when you boys skip stones
across the river while standing on the rock."
The beautiful view of the Delaware River and the scenery on the opposite
side was something long to be remembered. While the party were going
into raptures over the beautiful sight, Professor Schmidt turned to Mary and

remarked: "In those rocks which rise in perpendicular bluffs, several
hundred feet above the level of the river, are evidence that prehistoric man
may have inhabited the caves in these same walls of rock along the
Delaware. From implements and weapons found, it does not require any
great effort of imagination to believe the 'Cave Man' dwelt here many
centuries ago."
Fritz Schmidt was much interested in his father's conversation, and from
that time on called Ralph Jackson Mary's "Cave Man."
Leaving Top Rock, the party wended their way back to the waiting
carriages in the road, and drove to the "Ringing or Musical Rocks." They
had been informed that their nearest approach to the rocks was to drive into
the woods to reach them. Passing a small shanty at the roadside, where a
sign informed the passerby that soft drinks were to be obtained, the party
dismounted and found, to their surprise, a small pavilion had been erected
with bench, table and numerous seats composed of boards laid across logs,
where camp meetings had formerly been held. As the large trees furnished
shade, and a spring of fresh water was near by, they decided to "strike"
camp and have lunch before going farther into the woods.
Aunt Sarah and the Professor's wife spread a snowy cloth over the rough
wooden table, quickly unpacked the hampers, and both were soon busily
engaged preparing sandwiches of bread, thinly sliced, pink cold ham and
ground peanuts, fried chicken and beef omelette; opening jars of home-
made pickles, raspberry jam and orange marmalade.
"Oh!" said Pauline, "I'm so hungry for a piece of chocolate cake. Let me
help shell the eggs, so we can soon have dinner."
"Here's your fresh spring water," called Fritz, as he joined the party, a tin
pail in his hand, "We had such an early breakfast, I'm as hungry as a bear."
The party certainly did full justice to the good things provided with a
lavish hand by Frau Schmidt and Aunt Sarah. All were in high spirits. The
Professor quoted from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam—

Here with a loaf of bread beneath the bough.
A flask of wine, a book of verse and thou,

Beside me singing in the wilderness,
And wilderness is Paradise enow.
Ralph cast a look at Marry, unnoticed by any one else, as much as to say,
"The old tentmaker voiced my sentiments."

RINGING ROCKS OF BRIDGTON TOWNSHIP BUCKS
COUNTY. PA.

HIGH FALLS

After the hampers had been repacked and stowed away in the carriages,
they with the horses were left in the shade while the party walked to "High
Falls," at no great distance from the camp. "High Falls," a beautiful
waterfall about thirty feet high and fifty feet wide, is situated several
hundred feet east of the Ringing Rocks. The water, before dashing below,
passes over a large, solid, level floor of rock. After gazing at the Falls and
picturesque surroundings, they searched through the woods for the Ringing
Rocks, a peculiar formation of rocks of irregular shape and size, branching
out from a common centre in four directions. The rocks vary in size from a

few pounds to several tons in weight. Arriving there, Aunt Sarah said:
"Ralph, you will now find use for the hammer which I asked you to bring."
Ralph struck different rocks with the hammer, and Fritz Schmidt struck
rocks with other pieces of rock, and all gave a peculiar metallic sound, the
tones of each being different. The rocks are piled upon each other to an
unknown depth, not a particle of earth being found between them, and not a
bush or spear of grass to be seen. They occupy a space of about four and a
half acres and are a natural curiosity well worth seeing. The young folks
scrambled over the rocks for a time, and, having made them ring to their
hearts' content, were satisfied to return to camp and supper.

BIG ROCK AT ROCKY DALE

"Not far distant from High Falls," said John Landis, when all were
comfortably seated near the table, with a sandwich in hand, "is a place
called Roaring Rocks, also a freak of nature. I remember, when a boy, I
always went there in the fall of the year, after the first hard frost, to pick
persimmons. The water could he distinctly heard running underneath the
rocks at a considerable depth."
Ralph Jackson remarked to Aunt Sarah: "I never imagined there were so
many interesting, natural features right here in Bucks County."

"Oh, yes," exclaimed the impressible Fritz Schmidt, "we have a few
things besides pigs and potatoes."
"Yes, Ralph," said the Professor, "there are still several places of interest
you will like to see. 'Stony Garden' is another very interesting freak of
nature. It is about two and a half miles from the small town of
'Snitzbachsville,' as Fritz calls the hamlet, and 'tis a wild spot. About an acre
is covered with trap rock. The stones are of odd shapes and sizes and appear
as if thrown into the forest in the wildest confusion. No earth or vegetation
is found about them. 'Tis said the rocks are similar to those found at Fingal's
Cave, Ireland, and also at the Palisades on the Hudson, and are not found
anywhere else in this section of the country."
"And Ralph," said Fritz, "I want to show you 'Big Rock,' at Avondale,
where a party of us boys camped one summer for two weeks. Oh! but I
remember the good pies given us by a farmer's wife who sold us milk and
eggs, and who lived just across the fields from our camp."
"I think," said John Landis, "it is time we began hitching up our horses
and starting for home. We have a long drive before us, and, therefore, must
make an early start. Sarah, get the rest of the party together and pack up
your traps."
At that moment the Professor came in sight with an armful of ferns, the
rich loam adhering to their roots, and said: "I'm sure these will grow." Later
he planted them on a shady side of the old farm house at "Five Oaks,"
where they are growing today. Professor Schmidt, after a diligent search,
had found clinging to a rock a fine specimen of "Seedum Rhodiola," which
he explained had never been found growing in any locality in the United
States except Maine. Little Pauline, with a handful of flowers and weeds,
came trotting after Mary, who carried an armful of creeping evergreen
called partridge berry, which bears numerous small, bright, scarlet berries
later in the season. Ralph walked by her side with a basket filled to
overflowing with quantities of small ferns and rock moss, with which to
border the edge of the waiter on which Mary intended planting ferns; tree
moss or lichens, hepaticas, wild violets, pipsissewa or false wintergreen,
with dark green, waxy leaves veined with a lighter shade of green; and wild

pink geraniums, the foliage of which is prettier than the pink blossoms seen
later, and they grow readily when transplanted.
Aunt Sarah had taught Mary how to make a beautiful little home-made
fernery. By planting these all on a large waiter, banking moss around the
edges to keep them moist and by planting them early, they would be
growing finely when taken by her to the city in the fall of the year—a
pleasant reminder of her trip to the "Narrows" of the Delaware River. Frau
Schmidt brought up the rear, carrying huge bunches of mint, pennyroyal
and the useful herb called "Quaker Bonnet."

THE OLD TOWPATH AT THE NARROWS

Driving home at the close of the day, the twinkling lights in farm house
windows they swiftly passed, were hailed with delight by the tired but
happy party, knowing that each one brought them nearer home than the one
before. To enliven the drowsy members of the party, Fritz Schmidt sang the
following to the tune of "My Old Kentucky Home," improvising as he sang:

The moon shines bright on our "old Bucks County home,"
The meadows with daisies are gay,
The song of the whipporwill is borne on the breeze,
With the scent of the new mown hay.
Oh! the Narrows are great with their high granite peaks,

And Ringing Rocks for ages the same;
But when daylight fades and we're tired and cold,
There's no place like "hame, clear alt hame."
The last lingering rays of the sun idealized the surrounding fields and
woods with that wonderful afterglow seen only at the close of day. The
saffron moon appeared to rise slowly from behind the distant tree-tops, and
rolled on parallel with them, and then ahead, as if to guide them on their
way, and the stars twinkled one by one from out the mantle of darkness
which slowly enveloped the earth. The trees they swiftly passed, when the
moonbeams touched them, assumed gigantic, grotesque shapes in the
darkness. Mary quoted from a favorite poem, "The Huskers," by Whittier:

'Till broad and red as when he rose, the sun
Sank down at last,
And, like a merry guest's farewell, the day
In brightness passed.

And lo! as through the western pines,
On meadow, stream and pond,
Flamed the red radiance of a sky,
Set all afire beyond.

Slowly o'er the eastern sea bluffs,
A milder glory shone,
And the sunset and the moon-rise
Were mingled into one!

As thus into the quiet night,
The twilight lapsed away,
And deeper in the brightening moon
The tranquil shadows lay.

From many a brown, old farm house
And hamlet without name,
Their milking and their home tasks done,
The merry huskers came.

"You mean 'The Merry Picknickers Came,'" said Fritz Schmidt, as Mary
finished, "and here we are at home. Good night, all."

CHAPTER XIX.
MARY IS TAUGHT TO MAKE PASTRY, PATTIES AND
"ROSEN KUCHEN."

Mary's Aunt taught her to make light, flaky pastry and pies of every
description. In this part of Bucks County a young girl's education was
considered incomplete without a knowledge of pie-making. Some of the
commonest varieties of pies made at the farm were "Rivel Kuchen," a pie
crust covered with a mixture of sugar, butter and flour crumbled together;
"Snitz Pie," composed of either stewed dried apples or peaches, finely
mashed through a colander, sweetened, spread over a crust and this covered
with a lattice-work of narrow strips of pastry laid diamond-wise over the
top of the pie; "Crumb" pies, very popular when served for breakfast, made
with the addition of molasses or without it; Cheese pies, made of "Smier
Kase;" Egg Custard, Pumpkin and Molasses pie.
Pies were made of all the different fruits and berries which grew on the
farm. When fresh fruits were not obtainable, dried fruits and berries were
used. Pie made from dried, sour cherries was an especial favorite of Farmer
Landis, and raisin or "Rosina" pie, as it was usually called at the farm, also
known as "Funeral" pie, was a standby at all seasons of the year, as it was
invariably served at funerals, where, in old times, sumptuous feasts were
provided for relatives and friends, a regular custom for years among the
"Pennsylvania Germans," and I have heard Aunt Sarah say, "In old times,
the wives of the grave-diggers were always expected to assist with the extra
baking at the house where a funeral was to be held."
It would seem as if Bucks County German housewives did not like a
dessert without a crust surrounding it.
The Pennsylvania German farmers' wives, with few exceptions, serve the
greatest variety of pies at a meal of any class of people I know; not alone as

a dessert at twelve o'clock dinner, but frequently serve several different
varieties of pie at breakfast and at each meal during the day. No ill effects
following the frequent eating of pie I attribute to their active life, the greater
part of which, during the day, was usually spent in the open air, and some
credit may he due the housewife for having acquired the knack of making
good pie crust, which was neither very rich nor indigestible, if such a thing
be possible.
The combination of fruit and pastry called pie is thought to be of
American invention. Material for pies at a trifling cost were furnished the
early settlers in Bucks County by the large supply of fruit and vegetables
which their fertile farms produced, and these were utilized by the thrifty
German housewives, noted for their wise management and economy.
The Professor's wife taught Mary to make superior pastry, so flaky and
tender as to fairly melt in one's mouth; but Mary never could learn from her
the knack of making a dainty, crimped edge to her pies with thumb and
forefinger, although it looked so very simple when she watched "Frau
Schmidt" deftly roll over a tiny edge as a finish to the pie.
Mary laughingly told the Professor's wife (when speaking of pies) of the
brilliant remark she made about lard, on first coming to the farm. Her Aunt
Sarah, when baking pies one day, said to her, "Look, Mary, see this can of
snowy lard, rendered from pork, obtained from our fat pigs last winter!"
"Why, Aunt Sarah!" exclaimed Mary, "is lard made from pork fat? I
always thought lard was made from milk and butter was made from cream."
The Professor's wife possessed, besides a liking for pies, the German's
fondness for anything pertaining to fritters. She used a set of "wafer and cup
irons" for making "Rosen Kuchen," as she called the flat, saucer-like wafer;
and the cup used for serving creamed vegetables, salads, etc., was similar to
pattie cases.
"The 'Wafer and Cup Irons,'" said Frau Schmidt, "were invented by a
friend of mine, also a teacher and an excellent cook, besides; she gave me
several of her original recipes, all to be served on wafers or in patties. You
shall have a set of the irons when you start housekeeping. Mary. You will be
surprised at the many uses you will find for them. They are somewhat

similar to Rosette Irons, but I think them an improvement. They are pieces
of fluted steel fastened to a long handle and one is cup-shaped. This latter is
particularly fine for making patties. Then the cup may be filled and served
on saucer-like wafers, which I call 'Rosen Kuchen,' or the 'Rosen Kuchen'
may be simply dusted with a mixture consisting of one cup of sugar, one
teaspoonful of cinnamon and a quarter teaspoonful of powdered cardamon
seed, and served on a plate, as dainty cakes or wafers."
Aunt Sarah, when cooking fritters, always used two-thirds lard and one-
third suet for deep frying, but "Frau Schmidt" taught Mary to use a good
brand of oil for this purpose, as she thought food fried in oil more digestible
and wholesome than when fried in lard. The patties or wafers were easily
made. "Frau Schmidt" placed the long-handled iron in hot fat, the right
temperature for frying fritters. When the iron was heated she quickly and
carefully wiped off any surplus fat, then at once dipped the hot wafer iron
into a bowl containing the batter she had prepared (the recipe for which she
gave Mary), then dipped the iron into the hot fat; when the batter had lightly
browned she gently dropped it from the iron onto brown paper, to absorb
any fat which might remain. These are quickly and easily prepared and,
after a few trials, one acquires proficiency. Pattie cases or cup-shapes are
made in a similar manner. They are not expensive and may be kept several
weeks in a cool, dry place. When wanted for table use, place in a hot oven a
few minutes to reheat. They make a dainty addition to a luncheon by simply
dusting the "Rosen Kuchen" with pulverised sugar. Creamed vegetables of
any variety may be served on them by placing a spoon of cream dressing on
top of each, over which grate yolk of hard boiled egg; or use as a
foundation on which to serve salads; or serve fruit on them with whipped
cream. The patties or cups may be used to serve creamed chicken, oysters,
or sweetbreads if no sugar be used in the batter. These pattie cases are
exactly like those sold at delicatessen counters, in city stores, and are
considered quite an addition to a dainty luncheon. They are rather expensive
to buy, and we country housewives cannot always procure them when
wanted, and they may be made at home with a small amount of labor and
less expense.
"The Germans make fritters of almost everything imaginable," continued
the Professor's wife. "One day in early Spring I saw a German neighbor
gathering elderberry blossoms, of which she said she intended making

fritters. I asked her how they were made, being curious, I will confess. She
sent me a plate of the fritters and they were delicious. I will give you her
recipe should you care for it. Mary, have you ever eaten a small, sweet
wafer called 'Zimmet Waffle?' My mother made them at Christmas time, in
Germany. Should I be able to procure a small 'waffle,' or I should call it
wafer, iron, in the city, I will teach you how they are made. I think them
excellent. My mother made a cake dough similar to that of pound cake. To
one portion she added cinnamon, to the other chocolate, and the last portion
was flavored with vanilla. A piece of dough the size of a small marble was
placed in the wafer iron, which was then pressed together and held over the
fire in the range, by a long handle, until the wafer was crisp and brown.
They are delicious and will keep indefinitely."
The Professor's wife finished speaking to Mary, and turned to her
daughter Elizabeth, saying, "It is time I mix the dough if we are to have
'Boova Shenkel' for dinner today. I see the potatoes have steamed tender."
"Oh, goody!" said Pauline, "I just love 'Boova Shenkel!'"
"Then," said her Mother, "run down into the cellar and get me three eggs
for them, and Mary, I'll write off the recipe for you, if you wish it, as I feel
sure you'll like them as well as Pauline. And Elizabeth, dust powdered sugar
over this plate of 'Rosen Kuchen,' and you, Mary and Pauline, leave this hot
kitchen and have lunch out in the 'Espalier,' as your Father calls it."
"I think," said Mary to Elizabeth, after they were seated in the shade,
prepared to enjoy the "Rosen Kuchen," "this little, natural, home-grown
summer-house is the oddest and prettiest little place I've ever seen."
"Yes," assented Elizabeth, "Father said he made it as nearly like as
possible to a large one at Weisbaden, no great distance from his old home in
Germany. He says the 'Frauer Esche,' meaning Weeping Ash, at Weisbaden,
had tables and benches placed beneath spreading branches of the tree, and
picnics were frequently held there. This one was made by the larger
branches of the Weeping Ash, turning downward, fastened by pieces of
leather to a framework nailed to the top of posts in the ground, about two
yards apart, surrounding the tree. The posts, you notice, are just a little
higher than an ordinary man, and when the leaves thickly cover the tops and
sides, protecting one from the sun's rays, it is an ideal Summer-house. We

frequently sit here evenings and afternoons; Mother brings her sewing and
Pauline her doll family, which, you know, is quite numerous."
"I never saw a Summer-house at all like it," said Mary.
The Professor's wife not only taught Mary the making of superior pastry
and the cooking of German dishes, but what was of still greater importance,
taught her the value of different foods; that cereals of every description,
flour and potatoes, are starchy foods; that cream, butter, oil, etc., are fat
foods; that all fruits and vegetables contain mineral matter; and that lean
meat, eggs, beans, peas and milk are muscle-forming foods. These are
things every young housekeeper should have a knowledge of to be able to
plan nourishing, wholesome, well-balanced meals for her family. And not to
serve at one time a dish of rice, cheese and macaroni, baked beans and
potatoes. Serve instead with one of these dishes fruit, a vegetable or salad.
She said, "beans have a large percentage of nutriment and should be more
commonly used." She also said graham and corn bread are much more
nutritious than bread made from fine white flour, which lacks the nutritious
elements. Indian corn is said to contain the largest amount of fat of any
cereal. It is one of our most important cereal foods and should be more
commonly used by housewives; especially should it be used by working
men whose occupation requires a great amount of physical exercise.
Particularly in cold weather should it be frequently served, being both
cheap and wholesome.
The Professor's wife laughingly remarked to Mary, "When I fry fritters or
'Fast Nacht' cakes, Fritz and Pauline usually assist such a large number of
them in disappearing before I have finished baking, I am reminded of
'Doughnutting Time,' by J.W. Foley. Have you never read the poem? I
sometimes feel that it must have been written by me."

[A]"DOUGHNUTTING TIME."

Wunst w'en our girl wuz makin' pies an' doughnuts—'ist a Lot—
We stood around with great, big eyes, 'cuz we boys like 'em hot;
And w'en she dropped 'em in the lard, they sizzled 'ist like fun,
And w'en she takes 'em out, it's hard to keep from takin' one.

And 'en she says: "You boys'll get all spattered up with grease."
And by-um-by she says she'll let us have 'ist one apiece;
So I took one for me, and one for little James McBride,
The widow's only orfunt son, 'ats waitin' there outside.

An' Henry, he took one 'ist for himself an' Nellie Flynn,
'At's waitin' at the kitchen door and dassent to come in,
Becuz her Mother told her not; and Johnny, he took two,
'Cus Amey Brennan likes 'em hot, 'ist like we chinnern do.

'En Henry happened 'ist to think he didn't get a one
For little Ebenezer Brink, the carpet beater's son,
Who never gets 'em home, becuz he says, he ain't quite sure,
But thinks perhaps the reason wuz, his folkeses are too poor.

An 'en I give my own away to little Willie Biggs
'At fell down his stairs one day, an' give him crooked legs,
'Cuz Willie always seems to know w'en our girl's goin' to bake.
He wouldn't ast for none. Oh, no! But, my! he's fond of cake.

So I went back an' 'en I got another one for me,
Right out the kittle smokin' hot, an' brown as it could be;
An' John he got one, too, becuz he give his own to Clare,
An' w'en our girl she looked, there wuz 'ist two small doughnuts
there.

My! she wuz angry w'en she looked an' saw 'ist them two there,
An' says she knew 'at she had cooked a crock full an' to spare;
She says it's awful 'scouragin' to bake and fret an' fuss,
An' w'en she thinks she's got 'em in the crock, they're all in us.
[A]
The poem "Doughnutting Time," from "Boys and Girls,"
published by E.P. Dutton, by permission of the author, James W.
Foley.

The Professor's wife gave Mary what she called her most useful recipe.
She said, "Mary, this recipe was almost invaluable to me when I was a
young housekeeper and the strictest economy was necessary. Sift into a
bowl, one cup of flour, one even teaspoonful of baking powder (I use other
baking powders occasionally, but prefer 'Royal'), then cut through the flour
either one tablespoonful of butter or lard, add a pinch of salt, and mix into a
soft dough with about one-half cup of sweet milk. Mix dough quickly and
lightly, handling as little as possible. Drop large spoonfuls of the batter in
muffin pans and bake in a quick oven for tea biscuits; or, sift flour thickly
over the bread board, turn out the dough, roll several times in the flour, give
one quick turn with the rolling-pin to flatten out dough, and cut out with
small cake cutter, (I prefer using a small, empty tin, ½ pound baking
powder can, to cut out cakes.) Place close together in an agate pan and
bake, or bake in one cake in a pie tin and for shortcake; or place spoonfuls
of the dough over veal or beef stew and potatoes or stewed chicken, and
cook, closely covered, about fifteen minutes. Of course, you will have
sufficient water in the stew pan to prevent its boiling away before the pot-
pie dumplings are cooked, and, of course, you know, Mary, the meat and
potatoes must be almost ready to serve when this dough is added. Then I
frequently add one teaspoonful of sugar to the batter and place spoonfuls
over either freshly stewed or canned sour cherries, plums, rhubarb or
apples. In fact, any tart fruit may be used, and steam, closely covered, or
place large tablespoonful of any fruit, either canned or stewed, in small
custard cups, place tablespoonfuls of batter on top and steam or bake, and
serve with either some of the stewed fruit and fruit juice, sugar and cream,
or any sauce preferred."
"The varieties of puddings which may be evolved from this one formula,"
continued the Professor's wife, "are endless, and, Mary, I should advise you
to make a note of it. This quantity of flour will make enough to serve two at
a meal, and the proportions may be easily doubled if you wish to serve a
large family."
"Then, Mary, I have a recipe taken from the 'Farmers' Bulletin' for
dumplings, which I think fine. You must try it some time. Your Aunt Sarah
thinks them 'dreadfully extravagant.' They call for four teaspoonfuls of
baking powder to two cups of flour, but they are perfect puff balls, and this

is such a fast age, why not use more baking powder if an advantage? I am
always ready to try anything new I hear about."
"Yes," replied Mary, "I just love to try new recipes, I will experiment with
the dumplings one of these days. Aunt Sarah says I will never use half the
recipes I have; but so many of them have been given me by excellent and
reliable old Bucks County cooks, I intend to copy them all in a book, and
keep for reference after I leave the farm."

CHAPTER XX.
OLD POTTERIES AND DECORATED DISHES.

One day, looking through the old corner cupboard, Mary exclaimed,
"Aunt Sarah, you certainly possess the finest collection of quaint old china
dishes I have ever seen. I just love those small saucers and cups without
handles; yes, and you have plates to match decorated with pinkish, lavender
peacock feathers, and those dear little cups and saucers, decorated inside
with pink and outside with green flowers, are certainly odd; and this
queerly-shaped cream jug, sugar bowl and teapot, with pale green figures,
and those homely plates, with dabs of bright red and green, they surely must
be very old!"

Old Earthenware Dish

"Yes, dear, they all belonged to either John's mother or mine. All except
this one large, blue plate, which is greatly valued by me, as it was given me
many years ago by a dear old friend, Mary Butler, a descendant of one of

the oldest families in Wyoming Valley, whose, forefathers date back to the
time of the 'Wyoming Massacre,' about which so much has been written in
song and story.
"The very oddest plates in your collection are those two large earthenware
dishes, especially that large circular dish, with sloping sides and flat base,
decorated with tulips."

SGRAFFITO PLATE Manufactured by One of the Oldest
Pennsylvania German Potterers in 1786

"Yes, Mary, and it is the one I value most highly. It is called sgraffito
ware. A tulip decoration surrounds a large red star in the centre of the plate.
This belonged to my mother, who said it came from the Headman pottery at
Rockhill Township, about the year 1808. I know of only two others in
existence at the present time; one is in a museum in the city of Philadelphia
and the other one is in the Bucks County Historical Society at Doylestown,
Pa. The other earthenware plate you admire, containing marginal inscription
in German which when translated is 'This plate is made of earth, when it

breaks the potter laughs,' is the very oldest in my collection, the date on it,
you see, is 1786. Those curved, shallow earthenware pie plates, or 'Poi
Schissel,' as they are frequently called in this part of Bucks County, I value,
even if they are quite plain and without decoration, as they were always
used by my mother when baking pies, and I never thought pies baked in any
other shaped dish tasted equally as good as hers. These pie plates were
manufactured at one of the old potteries near her home. All the old potters
have passed away, and the buildings have crumbled to the ground. Years
ago, your mother and I, when visiting the old farm where the earlier years
of our childhood were passed, stopped with one of our old-time friends,
who lived directly opposite the old Herstine pottery, which was then in a
very dilapidated condition; it had formerly been operated by Cornelius
Herstine (we always called him 'Neal' Herstine)."

OLD PLATES FOUND IN AUNT SARAH'S CORNER
CUPBOARD

"Together we crossed the road, forced our way through tangled vines and
underbrush, and, peering through windows guiltless of glass, we saw partly-
finished work of the old potters crumbling on the ground. The sight was a
sad one. We realized the hand of time had crumbled to dust both the potter
and his clay. Still nearer my old home was the McEntee pottery. From
earliest childhood our families were friends. We all attended the
'Crossroads' School, where years later a more modern brick structure was
built, under the hill; not far distant from 'The Narrows' and the 'Ringing
Rocks.' Yes, Mary, my memory goes back to the time when the McEntee
pottery was a flourishing industry, operated by three brothers, John, Patrick
and Michael. When last I visited them but few landmarks remained."
"Was there a pottery on your father's farm, Aunt Sarah?" inquired Mary.
"No. The nearest one was the McEntee pottery, but the grandson of the
old man who purchased our old farm at my father's death had a limekiln for
the purpose of burning lime, and several miles distant, at the home of my
uncle, was found clay suitable for the manufacture of bricks. Only a few
years ago this plant was still in operation. My father's farm was situated in
the upper part of Bucks County, in what was then known as the
Nockamixon Swamp, and at one time there were in that neighborhood no
less than seven potteries within two miles of each other."
"Why," exclaimed Mary, "were there so many potteries in that locality?"
"'Twas due, no doubt, to the large deposits of clay found there, well suited
to the manufacture of earthenware. The soil is a clayey loam, underlaid with
potter's clay. The old German potters, on coming to this country, settled
mostly in Eastern Pennsylvania, in the counties of Bucks and Montgomery.
The numerous small potteries erected by the early settlers were for the
manufacture of earthenware dishes, also pots of graded sizes. These were
called nests, and were used principally on the farm for holding milk, cream
and apple-butter. Jugs and pie plates were also manufactured. The plates
were visually quite plain, but they produced occasionally plates decorated
with conventionalized tulips, and some, more elaborate, contained besides
figures of animals, birds and flowers. Marginal inscriptions in English and
German decorate many of the old plates, from which may be learned many
interesting facts concerning the life and habits of the early settlers. I think,

judging from the inscriptions I have seen on some old plates, it must have
taxed the ingenuity of the old German potters to think up odd, original
inscriptions for their plates."
"Aunt Sarah, how was sgraffito ware made? Is it the same as slip-
decorated pottery?"
"No, my dear, the two are quite different. The large plate you so greatly
admired is called sgraffito or scratched work, sometimes called slip
engraving. It usually consists of dark designs on a cream-colored ground.
After the plates had been shaped over the mold by the potter, the upper
surface was covered by a coating of white slip, and designs were cut
through this slip to show the earthenware underneath. This decoration was
more commonly used by the old potters than slip decorating, which
consisted in mixing white clay and water until the consistency of cream.
The liquid clay was then allowed to run slowly through a quill attached to a
small cup, over the earthenware (before burning it in a kiln) to produce
different designs. The process is similar to that used when icing a cake,
when you allow the icing to run slowly from a pastry tube to form fanciful
designs. I have watched the old potters at their work many a time when a
child. The process employed in the manufacture of earthenware is almost
the same today as it was a century ago, but the appliances of the present day
workmen are not so primitive as were those of the old German potters.
Mary, a new pottery works has been started quite lately in the exact locality
where, over one hundred years ago, were situated the Dichl and Headman
potteries, where my highly-prized, old sgraffito plate was manufactured. I
hear the new pottery has improved machinery for the manufacture of vases,
flower pots, tiles, etc. They intend manufacturing principally 'Spanish tiles'
from the many acres of fine clay found at that place. The clay, it is said,
burns a beautiful dark, creamy red. As you are so much interested in this
subject, Mary, we shall visit this new pottery some day in the near future, in
company with your Uncle John. It is no great distance from the farm. Quite
an interesting story I have heard in connection with a pottery owned by a
very worthy Quaker in a near-by town may interest you, as your father was
a Philadelphia Quaker and Ralph's parents were Quakers also."

A-38 Schmutz Amschel
A-39 Antiquated Tin Lantern
A-40 Schmutz Amschel
A-41 Fluid Lamp
A-42 Candle Mould

"Yes, indeed, Aunt Sarah! I'd love to hear the story."
"This Quaker sympathized with the colored race, or negroes, in the South.
This was, of course, before slavery was abolished. You don't remember that
time, Mary, You are too young. It is only history to you, but I lived it, and
when the slaves ran away from their owners and came North to
Philadelphia they were sent from there, by sympathizers, to this Quaker,
who kept an underground station. The slaves were then placed, under his
direction, in a high 'pot wagon,' covered with layers or nests of earthenware
pots of graduated sizes. I heard the driver of one of these pot wagons
remark one time that when going down a steep hill, he put on the brake and
always held his breath until the bottom of the hill was reached, fearing the
pots might all be broken. The wagon-load containing earthenware and
slaves was driven to Stroudsburg, where the pots were delivered to a
wholesale customer. Here the runaways were released from their cramped
quarters and turned over to sympathizing friends, who assisted them in
reaching Canada and safety. I have frequently met the fine-looking, courtly
old gentleman who owned the pottery, and old Zacariah Mast, the skilled
German potter whom he employed. They were for many years familiar
figures in the little Quaker town, not many miles distant. Both passed away
many years ago."
Mary, who still continued her explorations of the corner cupboard,
exclaimed: "Oh! Aunt Sarah! Here is another odd, old plate, way back on
the top shelf, out of sight."
"Yes, dear, that belonged to your Uncle John's mother. It has never been
used and was manufactured over one hundred years ago at an old pottery in
Bedminister Township, Bucks County. Some of those other quaint, old-
fashioned plates also belonged to John's mother. Your Uncle loves old

dishes and especially old furniture; he was so anxious to possess his
grandfather's old 'Solliday' clock. In the centre of the face of the clock a
hand indicated the day of the month and pictures of two large, round moons
on the upper part of the clock's face (resembling nothing so much as large,
ripe peaches) represented the different phases of the moon. If new moon, or
the first or last quarter, it appeared, then disappeared from sight. It was
valued highly, being the last clock made by the old clockmaker; but John
never came into possession of it, as it was claimed by an elder sister. I value
the old clock which stands in the parlor because 'twas my mother's,
although it is very plain. This old cherry, corner cupboard was made for my
grandmother by her father, a cabinetmaker, as a wedding gift, and was
given me by my mother. Did you notice the strong, substantial manner in
which it is made? It resembles mission furniture."
"Do tell me, Aunt, what this small iron boat, on the top shelf, was ever
used for? It must be of value, else 'twould not occupy a place in the
cupboard with all your pretty dishes."
"Yes, dearie, 'twas my grandmother's lamp, called in old times a 'Schmutz
Amschel' which, translated, means a grease robin, or bird. I have two of
them. I remember seeing my grandmother many a time, when the 'Amschel'
was partly filled with melted lard or liquid fat, light a piece of lamp wick
hanging over the little pointed end or snout of the lamp. The lamp was
usually suspended from a chain fastened to either side. A spike on the chain
was stuck into the wall, which was composed of logs. This light, by the
way, was not particularly brilliant, even when one sat close beside it, and
could not be compared with the gas and electric lights of our present day
and generation. That was a very primitive manner of illumination used by
our forefathers.
"Mary, did you notice the gayly-decorated, old-fashioned coffee pot and
tea caddy in the corner cupboard? They belonged to my grandmother; also
that old-fashioned fluid lamp, used before coal-oil or kerosene came into
use; and that old, perforated tin lantern also is very ancient.
"Mary, have you ever read the poem, The Potter and the Clay?' No? Then
read it to me, dear, I like it well; 'tis a particular favorite of mine, I do not
remember by whom it was written."

THE POTTER AND THE CLAY.
(Jeremiah xviii 2-6.)

The potter wrought a work in clay, upon his wheel;
He moulded it and fashioned it, and made it feel,
In every part, his forming hand, his magic skill,
Until it grew in beauty fair beneath his will.

When lo! through some defect, 'twas marred and broken lay,
Its fair proportions spoiled, and it but crumbling clay;
Oh, wondrous patience, care and love, what did he do?
He stooped and gathered up the parts and formed anew.

He might have chosen then a lump of other clay
On which to show his skill and care another day,
But no; he formed it o'er again, as seemed him good;
And who has yet his purpose scanned, his will withstood?

Learn thou from this a parable of God's great grace
Toward the house of Israel, His chosen race;
He formed them for His praise; they fell and grieved Him sore,
But He will yet restore and bless them evermore.

And what He'll do for Israel, He'll do for thee;
Oh soul, so marred and spoiled by sin, thou yet shall see
That He has power to restore, He will receive,
And thou shall know His saving grace, only believe.

Despair not, He will form anew thy scattered life,
And gather up the broken parts, make peace from strife;
Only submit thou to His will of perfect love,
And thou shall see His fair design in Heaven above.

CHAPTER XXI.
THE VALUE OF WHOLESOME, NUTRITIOUS FOOD.

"Yes, my dear," said Frau Schmidt (continuing a conversation which had
occurred several days previously between herself and Mary), "we will have
more healthful living when the young housewife of the present day
possesses a knowledge of different food values (those food products from
which a well-balanced meal may be prepared) for the different members of
her household. She should endeavor to buy foods which are most
nourishing and wholesome; these need not necessarily consist of the more
expensive food products. Cheaper food, if properly cooked, may have as
fine a flavor and be equally as nutritious as that of higher price.
"And, Mary, when you marry and have a house to manage, if possible, do
your own marketing, and do not make the mistake common to so many
young, inexperienced housewives, of buying more expensive food than,
your income will allow. Some think economy in purchasing food
detrimental to their dignity and to the well-being of their families; often the
ones most extravagant in this respect are those least able to afford it.
Frequently the cause of this is a lack of knowledge of the value of different
foods. The housewife with a large family and limited means should
purchase cheaper cuts of meat, which become tender and palatable by long
simmering. Combine them with different vegetables, cooked in the broth,
and serve as the principal dish at a meal, or occasionally serve dumplings
composed of a mixture of flour and milk, cooked in the broth, to extend the
meat flavor. Frequently serve a dish of rice, hominy, cornmeal and oatmeal,
dried beans and peas. These are all nutritious, nourishing foods when
properly cooked and attractively served. And remember, Mary, to always
serve food well seasoned. Many a well-cooked meal owes its failure to
please to a lack of proper seasoning. This is a lesson a young cook must
learn. Neither go to the other extreme and salt food too liberally. Speaking
of salt, my dear, have you read the poem, 'The King's Daughters,' by

Margaret Vandegrift? If not, read it, and then copy it in your book of
recipes."

"THE KING'S DAUGHTERS."

The King's three little daughters, 'neath the palace window straying,
Had fallen into earnest talk that put an end to playing;
And the weary King smiled once again to hear what they were saying;
"It is I who love our father best," the eldest daughter said;
"I am the oldest princess," and her pretty face grew red;
"What is there none can do without? I love him more than bread."
Then said the second princess, with her bright blue eyes aflame;
"Than bread, a common thing like bread! Thou hast not any shame!
Glad am I, it is I, not thou, called by our mother's name;
I love him with a better love than one so tame as thine,
More than—Oh! what then shall I say that is both bright and fine?
And is not common? Yes, I know. I love him more than wine."
Then the little youngest daughter, whose speech would sometimes halt,
For her dreamy way of thinking, said, "Nay, you are both in fault.
'Tis I who love our father best, I love him more than salt."
Shrill little shrieks of laughter greeted her latest word,
As the two joined hands exclaiming. "But this is most absurd!"
And the King, no longer smiling, was grieved that he had heard,
For the little youngest daughter, with her eyes of steadfast grey,
Could always move his tenderness, and charm his care away;
"She grows more like her mother dead," he whispered day by day,
"But she is very little and I will find no fault,
That while her sisters strive to see who most shall me exalt,
She holds me nothing dearer than a common thing like salt."

The portly cook was standing in the courtyard by the spring,
He winked and nodded to himself, "That little quiet thing
Knows more than both the others, as I will show the King."
That afternoon, at dinner, there was nothing fit to eat.
The King turned angrily away from soup and fish and meat,
And he found a cloying sweetness in the dishes that were sweet;

"And yet," he muttered, musing, "I cannot find the fault;
Not a thing has tasted like itself but this honest cup of malt."
Said the youngest princess, shyly: "Dear father, they want salt."

A sudden look of tenderness shone on the King's dark face,
As he sat his little daughter in the dead queen's vacant place,
And he thought: "She has her mother's heart; Ay, and her mother's grace;
Great love through channels will find its surest way.
It waits not state occasions, which may not come or may;
It comforts and it blesses, hour by hour, and day by day."

CHAPTER XXII.
A VARIETY OF CAKES EVOLVED FROM ONE

"Aunt Sarah," questioned Mary one day, "will you tell me how it is
possible to evolve a number of cakes from one recipe?"
"Certainly I will, my dear," said her Aunt. "For instance, take the simple
recipe from which I have for years baked layer cake. You may have other
recipes given you, equally as good, but I feel positive none better. The cake
made from this recipe is not rich enough to be unwholesome, but a good,
reliable, inexpensive, easily-made cake, with which I have never had a
failure.
"The recipe, as you know, consists of 1¼ cups of granulated sugar, ½ cup
of a mixture of butter and sweet lard (or use all butter), ½ cup sweet milk, 2
cups flour and 2 teaspoonfuls baking powder. 3 eggs.
"The simplest manner of baking this cake is in two square cake pans.
When baked, take from pans and ice each cake with a boiled chocolate
icing and put together as a layer cake, or ice each cake with a plain, boiled
white icing and, when this is cold, you may spread over top of each cake
unsweetened chocolate, which has been melted over steam after being
grated. When cake is to be served, cut in diamonds or squares. Or add to the
batter 1 cup of chopped hickory nut meats, bake in 2 layers and cut in
squares.
"For a chocolate loaf cake, add two generous tablespoonfuls of
unsweetened melted chocolate to the batter just before baking. If you wish a
chocolate layer cake, use the same batter as for the chocolate loaf cake,
bake in two layer pans and put together with white boiled icing.
"Or, add to this same batter one scant teaspoonful of cinnamon, ginger, ½
teaspoonful of grated nutmeg and cloves, a cup of raisins or dried currants,

and you have a small fruit cake.
"Or, add a small quantity of thinly-shaved citron to the original recipe,
flavor with lemon, bake in a loaf and spread a white icing flavored with
lemon extract over top of cake, and you have a lemon cake.
"Or, add chocolate and spices to one-half the batter (about one-half as
much chocolate and spices as were used in batter for fruit cake) and place
spoonfuls of the light and dark batter alternately in a cake pan, until all
batter has been used, and you will have a cheap, old-fashioned Marble cake.
"Or, bake cake over original recipe, in two-layer pans, placing between
layers either tart jelly, a creamy cornstarch filling, grated cocoanut, apple
cream filling, or you might even use half the recipe given for the delicious
icing or filling for Lady Baltimore cake.
"Lastly, bake small cakes from this same recipe. Mary, you should have
small pans for baking these delicious little cakes, similar to those I possess,
which I ordered made at the tinsmith's. I took for a pattern one Frau
Schmidt loaned me. They are the exact size of one-quarter pound boxes of
Royal baking powder. Cut the box in three pieces of equal height, and your
cakes will be equally as large in diameter as the baking powder box, but
only one-third as high. I think I improved on Frau Schmidt's cake tins, as
hers were all separate, I ordered twelve tins, similar to hers, to be fastened
to a piece of sheet iron. I had two of these iron sheets made, containing
twenty-four little pans. I place a generous tablespoonful of the batter in each
of the twenty-four small pans, and cakes rise to the top of pans. Usually I
have batter remaining after these are filled. Ice all the cake except the top
with a white boiled icing or chocolate icing. These small cakes keep
exceedingly well, and are always liked by young folks and are particularly
nice for children's parties".
"Speaking of cakes, Aunt Sarah," said Mary, "have you ever used
Swansdown cake flour? I have a friend in the city who uses it for making
the most delicious Angel cake, and she gave me a piece of Gold cake made
over a recipe in 'Cake Secrets,' which comes with the flour, and it was fine.
I'll get a package of the flour for you the first time I go to the city. The flour
resembles a mixture of ordinary flour and cornstarch. It is not a prepared
flour, to be used without baking powder, and you use it principally for

baking cakes. I have the recipe for both the Gold and Angel cakes, with the
instructions for baking same. They are as follows:"

ANGEL CAKE.
"For the Angel cake, use one even cupful of the whites of egg (whites of
either eight large or nine small eggs); a pinch of salt, if added when beating
eggs, hastens the work. One and one-quarter cups granulated sugar, 1 cup of
Iglehart's Swansdown cake flour. Sift flour once, then measure and sift three
times. Beat whites of eggs about half, add ½ teaspoonful of cream of tartar
then beat whites of eggs until they will stand of their own weight. Add
sugar, then flour, not by stirring, but by folding over and over, until
thoroughly mixed. Flavor with ½ teaspoonful of vanilla or a few drops of
almond extract. As much care should be taken in baking an Angel Food
cake as in mixing. Bake in an ungreased patent pan. Place the cake in an
oven that is just warm enough to know there is a fire inside the range. Let
the oven stay just warm through until the batter has raised to the top of the
cake pan, then increase the heat gradually until the cake is well browned
over. If by pressing the top of the cake with the finger it will spring back
without leaving the impression of the finger, the cake is done through. Great
care should be taken that the oven is not too hot to begin with, as the cake
will rise too fast and settle or fall in the baking. It should bake in from 35 to
40 minutes' time. When done, invert the pan and let stand until cold before
removing it. Should you see cake browning before it rises to top of pan,
throw your oven door open and let cold air rush in and cool your oven
instantly. Be not afraid. The cold air will not hurt the cake. Two minutes
will cool any oven. Watch cake closely. Don't be afraid to open oven door
every three or four minutes. This is the only way to properly bake this cake.
When cake has raised above top of pan, increase your heat and finish
baking rapidly. Baking too long dries out the moisture, makes it tough and
dry. When cake is done it begins to shrink. Let it shrink back to level of
pan. Watch carefully at this stage and take out of oven and invert
immediately. Rest on centre tube of pan. Let hang until perfectly cold, then
take cake carefully from pan. When baking Angel cake always be sure the
oven bakes good brown under bottom of cake. If cake does not crust under
bottom it will fall out when inverted and shrink in the fall."

"I never invert my pans of Angel cake on taking them from oven," said
Mary's Aunt, "as the cakes are liable to fall out even if the pan is not
greased. I think it safer to allow the pans containing the cakes to stand on a
rack and cool without inverting the pan.
"Suppose, Mary, we bake a Gold cake over the recipe from 'Cake Secrets,'
as eggs are plentiful; but we haven't any Swansdown flour. I think we will
wait until we get it from the city."

GOLD CAKE.
Yolks of 8 eggs; 1¼ cups granulated sugar, ¾ cup of butter, ¾ cup water,
2½ cups of Swansdown cake flour, 2 heaping teaspoonfuls of baking
powder, ½ teaspoonful lemon extract. Sift flour once, then measure. Add
baking powder and sift three times. Cream butter and sugar thoroughly;
beat yolks to a stiff froth; add this to creamed butter and sugar, and stir
thoroughly through. Add flavor, add water, then flour. Stir very hard. Place
in a slow oven at once. Will bake in from 30 to 40 minutes. Invert pan
immediately it is taken from oven.
Mary, this batter may also be baked in layers with any kind of filling
desired. The Angel cake receipt is very similar to an original recipe Frau
Schmidt gave me; she uses cornstarch instead of Swansdown flour and she
measures the eggs in a cup instead of taking a certain number; she thinks it
more exact.
"Aunt Sarah, did you know Frau Schmidt, instead of using flour alone
when baking cakes, frequently uses a mixture of flour and cornstarch? She
sifts together, several times, six cups of flour and one cup of cornstarch, and
uses this instead of using flour alone.
"I dearly love the Professor's wife—she's been so very good to me,"
exclaimed Mary.
"Yes," replied her Aunt, "she has very many lovable qualities."
Mary's liking for bright, energetic Frau Schmidt was not greater than the
affection bestowed on Mary by the Professor's wife, who frequently

entertained Mary with tales of her life when a girl in Germany, to all of
which Mary never tired listening. One Aunt, a most estimable woman, held
the position of valued and respected housekeeper and cook for the Lord
Mayor of the city wherein she resided. Another relative, known as "Schone
Anna," for many years kept an inn named "The Four Seasons," noted for the
excellent fare served by the fair chatelaine to her patrons. The inn was made
famous by members of the King's household stopping there while in the
town during the Summer months, which was certainly a compliment to her
good cooking. One of the things in which she particularly excelled was
potato cakes raised with yeast. Frau Schmidt had been given a number of
these valuable recipes by her mother, all of which she offered to Mary. One
recipe she particularly liked was "Fast Nacht Cakes," which the Professor's
wife baked always without fail on Shrove Tuesday (or "Fast Nacht" day),
the day before the beginning of Lent. This rule was as "unchangeable as the
law of Medes and Persians," and it would have been a very important event,
indeed, which would have prevented the baking of these toothsome
delicacies on that day.

CHAPTER XXIII.
THE OLD "TAUFSCHIEN."

BIRTH AND CHRISTENING CERTIFICATE

OLD TAUFSCHIEN

Aunt Sarah had long promised to show Mary her Grandmother's
"Taufschien," and she reverently handled the large old family Bible, which
contained between its sacred pages the yellowed paper, being the birth and
christening certificate of her grandmother, whom we read was born in 1785,
in Nockamixon Township, was confirmed in 1802, and was married in 1805
to the man who was later Aunt Sarah's grandfather. The old certificate was
signed by a German Reformed minister named Wack, who history tells us
was the first young man of that denomination to be ordained to the ministry
in America. Folded with this "Taufschien" is another which has never been
filled out. This is printed in German. Pictures of women, perhaps they are
intended to represent angels, with golden wings, clothed in loose-flowing
crimson drapery and holding harps in their hands; birds with gayly-colored
plumage of bluish green, crimson and yellow, perched on branches of what
presumably represent cherry trees, also decorate the page. Religious hymns
printed on the "Taufschiens," encircled with gay stripes of light blue and
yellow, dotted with green, further embellish them. On one we read:

"Infinite joy or endless woe,
Attend on every breath;
And yet, how unconcerned we go
Upon the brink of death."

"Mary, this old 'Taufschien' of my grandmother's is one of my most
cherished possessions. Would you like to see your Uncle's old deed, which
he came into possession of when he inherited the farm from his father?"
Carefully unfolding the stiff old parchment or pigskin deed, yellowed and
brown spotted with age, Mary could faintly decipher the writing wherein,
beautifully written, old-fashioned penmanship of two hundred years ago
stated that a certain piece of land in Bucks County, Beginning at a Chestnut
Oak, North to a post; then East to a large rock, and on the South unsettled
land, which in later years was conveyed to John Landis.
"This deed," said Mary's Aunt, "was given in 1738, nearly two hundred
years ago, by John, Thomas and Richard Penn, sons of William Penn by his
second marriage, which occurred in America. His eldest son, John Penn,
you have no doubt heard, was called 'The American,' he having been born

in this country before William Penn's return to Europe, where he remained
fifteen years, as you've no doubt heard."
At the bottom of the deed a blue ribbon has been slipped through cuts in
the parchment, forming a diamond which incloses what is supposed to be
the signature of Thomas Penn.
"Aunt Sarah, I am not surprised that you value this old deed of the farm
and these 'Taufschiens' of your grandmother I should frame them, so they
may be preserved by future generations."

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE OLD STORE ON THE RIDGE ROAD.

Aunt Sarah found in Mary a willing listener when talking of the time in
years past when her grandfather kept a small "Country Store" on the Ridge
Road in Bucks County. She also remembered, when a child of ten,
accompanying her grandfather on one of his trips when he drove to
Philadelphia to purchase goods for his store.
"They had no trolley cars in those days?" asked Mary.
"No, my dear, neither did they have steam cars between the different
towns and cities as we have now."
"At grandfather's store could be bought both groceries and dry goods. The
surrounding farmers' wives brought to the store weekly fresh print butter,
eggs, pot cheese and hand-case, crocks of apple-butter, dried sweet corn,
beans, cherries, peach and apple 'Snitz,' taking in exchange sugar, starch,
coffee, molasses, etc. My father tapped his sugar maples and mother cooked
down the syrup until thick, and we used that in place of molasses. They also
took in exchange shaker flannel, nankeen, indigo blue and 'Simpson' gray
calico, which mother considered superior to any other, both for its washing
and wearing qualities. The farmers who came occasionally to the store to
shop for different members of the family frequently bought whole pieces of
calico of one pattern, and," affirmed Aunt Sarah, "I knew of one farmer who
bought several whole pieces of one pattern with rather large figures on a
dark wine ground, resembling somewhat the gay figures on an old paisley
shawl. He said 'twas a good, serviceable color, and more economical to buy
it all alike, and remarked: 'What's the difference, anyway? Calico is calico.'
From the same piece of calico his wife made dresses, aprons and
sunbonnets for herself and daughters, shirts for the farmer and his sons (the
boys were young, fortunately), and patchwork quilts and comfortables from
the remainder."

"Rather monotonous, I should think," said Mary. "I am surprised his wife
did not make him wear coat and trousers made from the same piece of
calico."

THE OLD STORE ON RIDGE ROAD

"The dry goods," continued Aunt Sarah, "retained the scent of coffee,
cheese and dried fruits some time after being purchased but no one minded
that in those days. I still remember how perfectly wonderful to me when a
child appeared the large, wide-mouthed glass jars containing candy. There
were red and white striped mint sticks, striped yellow and white lemon
sticks and hoarhound and clear, wine-colored sticks striped with lines of
white, flavored with anise-seed. One jar contained clear lemon-colored
'Sour Balls,' preferred by us children on account of their lasting qualities, as
also were the jujubees, which resembled nothing so much as gutta percha,
and possessed equally as fine flavor; also pink and yellow sugar-frosted
gumdrops. In a case at one end of the counter were squares of thick white
paper covered with rows of small pink, also white, 'peppermint buttons,'
small sticks, two inches in length, of chewing gum in waxed paper, a white,

tasteless, crystalline substance resembling paraffine. What longing eyes I
frequently cast at the small scalloped cakes of maple sugar, prohibitive as
regards cost. They sold for a nickel, am I was always inordinately fond of
maple sugar, but the price was prohibitive. I seldom possessed more than a
penny to spend in those days, and not always that. Father raised a large
family, money was never plentiful, and we relished the plain, cheap candies
usually sold in those days more than many children of the present day do
the finest and most expensive cream chocolates, to many of whom in this
extravagant age a dollar is not valued more highly than was a penny by us
in years gone by. And 'Candy Secrets!' I don't believe you know what they
are like. I've not seen any for years. They were small, square pieces of taffy-
like candy, wrapped in squares of gilt or silver paper, inclosing a small strip
of paper containing a couple of sentimental lines or jingle. Later came
'French Secrets.' They consisted of a small oblong piece of candy about an
inch in length, wrapped in tissue paper of different colors, having fringed
ends, twisted together at either end. These also inclosed a tiny strip of paper
containing a line or two. Small, white candy hearts contained the words in
pink letters, 'Little Sweetheart,' 'I Love You,' 'Name the Day,' etc. These
were invariably distributed among the young folks at small parties and
created no end of merriment."
"Mary, old as I am, I still remember the delight I experienced when a
little, rosy-cheeked urchin surreptitiously passed me around the corner of
my desk at the old 'Cross Roads School' a 'Secret,' with the words, 'Do you
love me?' My grandmother always kept a supply of hoarhound and
peppermint lozenges in her knitting basket to give us children should we
complain of hoarseness. My, but 'twas astonishing to hear us all cough until
grandmother's supply of mints was exhausted. I think. Mary, I must have
had a 'sweet tooth' when a child, as my recollections seem to be principally
about the candy kept in my grandfather's store. I suppose in those early days
of my childhood candy appealed to me more than anything else, as never
having had a surfeit of sweets, candy to me was a rare treat. I remember,
Mary, when a little child, my thrifty mother, wishing to encourage me to
learn to knit my own stockings, she, when winding the skein of German
yarn into a ball, occasionally wound a penny in with the yarn. I was allowed
to spend the penny only after I had knitted the yarn and the penny had fallen
from the ball. What untold wealth that penny represented! And planning

how to spend it was greater pleasure still. Many a pair of long old-
fashioned, dark blue and red-striped stockings, were finished more quickly
than otherwise would have been done without the promised reward. I
became proficient in knitting at an early age," continued Aunt Sarah; "a
truly feminine occupation, and as I one time heard a wise old physician
remark, 'Soothing to the nerves,' which I know to be true, having knitted
many a worry into the heel of a sock. I learned at an early age the value of
money, and once having acquired the saving habit, it is not possible to be
wasteful in later life."

CHAPTER XXV.
AN ELBADRITCHEL HUNT.

Fritz Schmidt, like many another Bucks County boy, had frequently heard
the rural tale of a mythical bird called the "Elbadritchel," supposed to be
abroad, particularly on cold, dark, stormy nights, when the wind whistled
and blew perfect gales around exposed corners of houses and barns. 'Twas a
common saying among "Pennsylvania Germans," at such times, "'Tis a fine
night to catch 'Elbadritchels.'"

CATCHING ELBADRITCHELS

For the information of those who may not even have heard of this
remarkable creature, it is described as being a cross between a swallow, a
goose and a lyre bird. Have you ever seen an "Elbadritchel?" No one has to

my certain knowledge, so I cannot vouch for the truth of this description of
it.
Fritz Schmidt had never taught to question the truth of the tale. So, when
one cold, stormy night several boys from neighboring farms drove up to the
Schmidt homestead and asked Fritz to join them in a hunt for
"Elbadritchels," he unhesitatingly agreed to make one of the number,
unaware that he had been selected as the victim of a practical joke, and, as
usual, was one of the jolliest of the crowd. They drove through a blinding
downpour of rain and dismounted on reaching a lonely hill about three
miles distant. They gave Fritz a bag to hold. It was fashioned of burlap and
barrel hoops, inside of which they placed a lighted candle, and Fritz was
instructed how to hold it in order to attract the "Elbadritchel." They also
gave him a club with which to strike the bird when it should appear.
The boys scampered off in different directions, ostensibly to chase up the
birds, but in reality they clambered into the waiting wagon and were rapidly
driven home, leaving Fritz alone awaiting the coming of the "Elbadritchel."
When Fritz realized the trick played on him, his feelings may be better
imagined than described. He trudged home, cold and tired, vowing
vengeance on the boys, fully resolved to get even with them.

CHAPTER XXVI
THE OLD SHANGHAI ROOSTER.

Much of Aunt Sarah's spare time was devoted to her chickens, which fully
repaid her for the care given them. She was not particular about fancy stock,
but had quite a variety—White Leghorns, Brown Leghorns, big, fat,
motherly old Brahma hens that had raised a brood of as many as thirty-five
little chicks at one time, a few snow-white, large Plymouth Rocks and some
gray Barred one. The latter she liked particularly because she said they
were much, more talkative than any of the others; they certainly did appear
to chatter to her when she fed them. She gave them clean, comfortable
quarters, warm bran mash on cold winter mornings, alternating with
cracked corn and "scratch feed" composed of a mixture of cracked corn,
wheat and buckwheat, scattered over a litter of dried leaves on the floor of
the chicken house, so they were obliged to work hard for their food.

Old Egg Basket

A plentiful supply of fresh water was always at hand, as well as cracked
oyster shell. She also fed the chickens all scraps from the table, cutting all

meat scraps fine with an old pair of scissors hung conveniently in the
kitchen.
She was very successful with the little chicks hatched out when she "set"
a hen and the yield of eggs from her hens was usually greater and the eggs
larger in size than those of any of her neighbors. This I attribute to her
excellent care of them, generous diet, but principally to the fact of the
elimination of all the roosters among the flock during the season between
the "first of May and December first," with one exception. "Brigham," an
immensely large, old, red Shanghai rooster, a most pompous and dignified
old chap. A special pet of Aunt Sarah's, she having raised him from a
valuable "setting" of eggs given her, and as the egg from which "Brigham,"
as he was called, emerged, was the only one of the lot which proved fertile,
he was valued accordingly and given a longer lease of life than the other
roosters, and was usually either confined or allowed to roam outside the
chicken yard during the summer months; in the winter, being a swift runner,
he usually gobbled up two shares of food before the hens arrived. That
accounted for his great size. The old rooster was also noted for his loud
crowing.
One day in early Spring, John Landis came into the house hurriedly,
saying, "Sarah, your old Shanghai rooster is sick."
"Yes," answered his wife, "I missed hearing him crow this morning; he is
usually as regular as an alarm clock."
She hurried to the barnyard, picked up poor Brigham, wrapped him
carefully in a piece of blanket and laid him in a small shed. The next
morning she was awakened by the lusty crowing of Brigham, who was
apparently as well as ever. The next day the same thing happened. Aunt
Sarah found him, as she supposed, in a dying condition, and the following
morning he was fully recovered. It was quite puzzling until one day John
Landis came into the kitchen laughing heartily and said, "Sarah, I am sorry
to inform you of the intemperate habits of your pet, Brigham. He is a most
disreputable old fellow, and has a liking for liquor. He has been eating some
of the brandied cherries which were thrown into the barnyard when the jug
containing them was accidentally broken at house cleaning time.

"Well, Sarah, old Brigham was not sick at all—only 'ingloriously' drunk."
In the fall of the same year Aunt Sarah spied Brigham one day on top of one
of the cider barrels in the shed busily engaged eating the pummace which
issued from the bung-hole of the barrel. John Landis, on hearing of
Brigham's last escapade, decided, as the rooster was large as an ordinary-
turkey, to serve him roasted at Mary's wedding.
Fritz Schmidt remarked one day in the presence of Sibylla: "Chickens
must possess some little intelligence; they know enough to go to bed early.
Yes, and without an 'alarm clock,' too, Sibylla, eh?"
She walked away without a word to Fritz. The alarm clock was a sore
subject with her, and one about which she had nothing to say. Sibylla had
never quite forgiven Fritz for the prank played on her. He, happening to
hear John Landis tell Sibylla a certain hour he thought a proper time for
Jake Crouthamel to take his departure Sunday evenings, Fritz conceived the
brilliant (?) idea of setting the alarm clock to "go off" quite early in the
evening. He placed the clock at the head of the stairs, and in the midst of an
interesting conversation between the lovers the alarm sounded with a loud,
whizzing noise, which naturally made quick-tempered Sibylla very angry.
She said on seeing Fritz the next morning: "It was not necessary to set the
'waker' to go off, as I know enough to send 'Chake' home when it's time."
Fritz, happening to tell the story to the editor of a small German
Mennonite paper, edited in a near-by town, it was printed in that paper in
German, which caused Sibylla, on hearing it, to be still more angry at the
Professor's son.

CHAPTER XXVII.
"A POTATO PRETZEL."

In the early part of September Mary's Aunt suggested she try to win the
prize offered at the Farmers' Picnic in a near-by town for the best "Raised
Potato Cake." Aunt Sarah's rye bread invariably captured first prize, and she
proposed sending both bread and cake with Sibylla and Jake, who never
missed picnic or fair within a radius of one hundred miles.

"POTATO PRETZEL"

Mary set a sponge the evening of the day preceding that of the picnic,
using recipe for "Perfection Potato Cake," which Aunt Sarah considered her

best recipe for raised cakes, as 'twas one used by her mother for many
years.
On the day of the picnic, Mary arose at five o'clock, and while her Aunt
was busily engaged setting sponge for her loaf of rye bread, Mary kneaded
down the "potato cake" sponge, set to rise the previous evening, now
rounded over top of bowl and light as a feather.
She filled a couple of pans with buns, molded from the dough, and set
them to rise. She then, under her Aunt's direction, fashioned the "Pretzel" as
follows: She placed a piece of the raised dough on a large, well-floured
bake board, rolled it over and over with both hands until a long, narrow roll
or strip was formed about the width of two fingers in thickness and placed
this strip carefully on the baking sheet, which was similar to the one on
which Aunt Sarah baked rye bread; shaped the dough to form a figure eight
(8) or pretzel, allowing about two inches of space on either side of baking
sheet to allow for raising. She then cut a piece of dough into three portions,
rolled each as thick as a finger, braided or plaited the three strips together
and placed carefully on top of the figure eight, or pretzel, not meeting by a
space of about two inches. This braided piece on the top should not be quite
as thick as bottom or first piece of the pretzel. She then rolled three small
pieces of dough into tiny strips or rolls the size of small lead pencils, wound
them round and round and round into small scrolls, moistened the lower
side with water to cause them to adhere, and placed them on the dividing
line between the two halves of the figure eight. She placed an old china
coffee cup without a handle, buttered on outside, in centre of each half of
the figure eight, which kept the pretzel from spreading over the pan. With a
small, new paint brush she brushed over the top of Pretzel and Buns, a
mixture, consisting of one yolk of egg, an equal quantity of cream or milk
(which should be lukewarm so as not to chill the raised dough) and one
tablespoon of sugar. This causes the cakes, etc., to be a rich brown when
baked, a result to be obtained in no other manner.
When the pretzel was raised and had doubled in size 'twas baked in a
moderately hot oven.
Mary's surprise and delight may easily be imagined when Sibylla, on her
return from the picnic, handed her the prize she had won, a two-pound box

of chocolates, remarking, "Mary, you and Aunt Sarah both got a prize—
her's is in the box what Jake's got."
The box on being opened by Aunt Sarah contained a very pretty, silver-
plated soup ladle, the prize offered for the best loaf of rye bread.
"Aunt Sarah," inquired Mary one day, "do you think it pays a housekeeper
to bake her own bread?"

LOAF OF RYE BREAD

"Certainly, it pays, my dear. From a barrel of flour may be baked three
hundred or more one-pound loaves of bread; should you pay five cents a
loaf, the bread which may be made from one barrel of flour if bought from
a bake shop would cost you fifteen dollars. Now, you add to the cost of a
barrel of flour a couple of dollars for yeast, salt, etc., which altogether
would not possibly be more than ten dollars, and you see the housewife has
saved five dollars. It is true it is extra work for the housewife, but good,
wholesome bread is such an important item, especially in a large family, I
should advise the thrifty housekeeper to bake her own bread and bake less
pie and cake, or eliminate less important duties, to be able to find time to
bake bread. From the bread sponge may be made such a number of good,

plain cakes by the addition of currants or raisins, which are more
wholesome and cheaper than richer cakes."
"I think what you say is true, Aunt Sarah," said Mary.
"Frau Schmidt always bakes her own bread, and she tells me she sets a
sponge or batter for white bread, and by the addition of Graham flour,
cornmeal or oatmeal, always has a variety on her table with a small
expenditure of time and money."

A "BROD CORVEL" OR BREAD BASKET

CHAPTER XXVIII.
FAITHFUL SERVICE.

The home-making instinct was so strongly developed in Mary that her
share in the labor of cooking and baking became a pleasure. Occasionally
she had failures—what inexperienced cook has not?—yet they served only
to spur her on to fresh efforts. She had several small scars on her wrist
caused by her arm coming in contact with the hot oven when baking. She
laughingly explained: "One bar on my arm represents that delicious 'Brod
Torte' which Frau Schmidt taught me to bake; the other one I acquired when
removing the sponge cake from the oven which Uncle John said 'equaled
Aunt Sarah's' (which I consider highest praise), and the third bar I received
when taking from the oven the 'Lemon Meringue,' Ralph's favorite pie,
which he pronounced 'fine, almost too good to eat.'" Mary was as proud of
her scars as a young, non-commissioned officer of the chevron on his
sleeve, won by deeds of valor.
The lessons Mary learned that summer on the farm while filling her hope
chest and preparing her mind for wifehood were of inestimable value to her
in later years. She learned not only to bake, brew and keep house, but from
constant association with her Aunt she acquired a self-poise, a calm, serene
manner, the value of which is beyond price in this swift, restless age.
One day, while having a little heart-to-heart talk with Mary, her Aunt said:
"My dear, never allow an opportunity to pass for doing a kind act. If ever so
small, it may cheer some sad, lonely heart. Don't wait to do big things. The
time may never come. If only a kind word, speak it at once. Kind words
cost so little, and we should all be more prodigal with them; and to a tired,
sad, discouraged soul, a kind word or act means so very much; and who is
there that has not at some time in life known sorrow and felt the need of
sympathy? Were our lives all sunshine we could not feel in touch with
sorrowing friends. How natural it is for our hearts to go out in sympathy to

the one who says 'I have suffered.' Give to your friend the warm hand-clasp
and cheery greeting' which cost us nothing in the giving. 'Tis the little lifts
which help us over stones in our pathway through life. We think our cross
the heaviest when, did we but know the weight of others, we'd not willingly
exchange; and remember Mary, 'there are no crown-bearers in Heaven that
were not cross-bearers below.' Have you ever read the poem, 'The Changed
Cross?' No? Well, I will give it to you to copy in your book of recipes.
Should you ever, in future years, feel your cross too heavy to bear, read the
poem. How many brave, cheery little women greet us with a smile as they
pass. But little do we or any one realize that instead of a song in their hearts
the smiles on their lips conceal troubles the world does not suspect, seeking
to forget their own sorrows while doing kindly acts for others. They are the
real heroes whom the world does not reward with medals for bravery, 'To
stand with a smile upon your face against a stake from which you cannot
get away, that, no doubt, is heroic; but the true glory is not resignation to
the inevitable. To stand unchained, with perfect liberty to go away, held
only by the higher claims of duty, and let the fire creep up to the heart, that
is heroism.' Ah! how many good women have lived faithful to duty when
'twould have been far easier to have died!"

"FAITHFUL OVER A FEW THINGS."
Matt. xxv: 23.

It may seem to you but a trifle, which you have been called to do;
Just some humble household labor, away from the public view,
But the question is, are you faithful, and striving to do your best,
As in sight of the Blessed Master, while leaving to Him the rest?

It may be but a little corner, which you have been asked to fill;
What matters it, if you are in it, doing the Master's will?
Doing it well and faithfully, and doing it with your might;
Not for the praise it may bring you, but because the thing is right.

In the sight of man you may never win anything like success;
And the laurel crown of the victor may never your temples press;
If only you have God's approval, 'twill not matter what else you miss,

His blessing is Heaven beginning, His reward will be perfect bliss.

Be faithful in every service, obedient to every call;
Ever ready to do His bidding, whether in great things or small;
You may seem to accomplish little, you may win the praise of none;
But be sure you will win His favor, and the Master's great "Well Done."

And when at His blessed coming, you stand at His judgment seat;
He'll remember your faithful service and His smile will be Oh! so sweet!
He will bid you a loving welcome, He'll make you to reign for aye,
Over great things and o'er many, with Him, through eternal day.

"THE CHANGED CROSS."

It was a time of sadness, and my heart,
Although it knew and loved the better part,
Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife,
And all the needful discipline of life.

And while I thought on these as given to me,
My trial tests of faith and love to be,
It seemed as if I never could be sure
That faithful to the end I should endure.

And thus, no longer trusting to His might,
Who says, "We walk by faith and not by sight";
Doubting and almost yielding to despair,
The thought arose—My cross I cannot bear.

Far heavier its weight must surely be
Than those of others which I daily see;
Oh! if I might another burden choose,
Methinks I should not fear my crown to lose.

A solemn silence reigned on all around,
E'en nature's voices uttered not a sound;
The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell,

And sleep upon my weary spirit fell.

A moment's pause and then a heavenly light
Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured sight;
Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere,
And angels' music filled the balmy air.

Then One more fair than all the rest to see—
One to whom all the others bowed the knee—
Came gently to me as I trembling lay,
And, "Follow Me!" He said, "I am the Way."

Then speaking thus, He led me far above,
And there, beneath a canopy of love,
Crosses of divers shapes and sizes were seen,
Larger and smaller than my own had been.

And one there was, most beauteous to behold,
A little one, with jewels set in gold;
Ah! this methought, I can with comfort wear,
For it will be an easy one to bear.

And so, the little cross I quickly took,
But all at once, my frame beneath it shook;
The sparkling jewels fair were they to see,
But far too heavy was their weight for me.

"This may not be," I cried, and looked again
To see if there was any here could ease my pain;
But one by one I passed them slowly by,
Till on a lovely one I cast my eye.

Fair flowers around its sculptured form entwined,
And grace and beauty seemed in it combined;
Wondering, I gazed and still I wondered more,
To think so many should have passed it o'er.

But Oh! that form so beautiful to see,

Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me;
Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colors fair;
Sorrowing, I said. "This cross I may not bear."

And so it was with each and all around,
Not one to suit my need could there be found;
Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down,
As my guide gently said: "No cross, no crown."

At length to him I raised my saddened heart,
He knew its sorrows, bid its doubts depart;
"Be not afraid," He said, "but trust in Me,
My perfect love shall now be shown to thee."

And then with lightened eyes and willing feet,
Again I turned my earthly cross to meet;
With forward footsteps, turning not aside
For fear some hidden evil might betide.

And there, in the prepared, appointed way,
Listening to hear, and ready to obey,
A cross I quickly found of plainest form,
With only words of love inscribed thereon.

With thankfulness, I raised it from the rest,
And joyfully acknowledged it the best;
The only one of all the many there
That I could feel was good for me to bear.

And while I thus my chosen one confessed,
I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest;
And as I bent my burden to sustain,
I recognized my own old cross again.

But, oh! how different did it seem to be!
Now I had learned its preciousness to see;
No longer could I unbelievingly say:
"Perhaps another is a better way."

Oh, no! henceforth my own desire shall be
That He who knows me best should choose for me,
And so whate'er His love sees good to send,
I'll trust its best, because He knows the end.

And when that happy time shall come
Of endless peace and rest,
We shall look back upon our path
And say: "It was the best."

CHAPTER XXIX.
MARY, RALPH, JAKE AND SIBYLLA VISIT THE
ALLENTOWN FAIR.

Late in September Jake and Sibylla drove to the Allentown Fair. It was
"Big Thursday" of Fair week. They started quite early, long before Ralph
Jackson, who had come from the city the day previous, to take Mary to the
Fair, had arisen.

SECOND CHURCH BUILDING

Sheltered Liberty Bell, 1777-78. Photographed from the print
of an old wood cut used in a German newspaper in the year
1840

Mary, while appreciating Sibylla's good qualities, never failed to be
amused at her broad "Pennsylvania German" dialect.
The morning of the "Fair," Mary arose earlier than usual to allow Sibylla
and Jake to get an early start, as it was quite a distance from the farm to the
Fair grounds. As they were about to drive away, Sibylla, alighting from the
carriage, said, "I forgot my 'Schnupftuch.'" Returning with it in her hand,
she called, as she climbed into Jake's buggy, "Gut-by, Mary, it looks fer
rain."
"Yes" said Jake, "I think it gives rain before we get back yet. The
cornfodder in the barn this morning was damp like it had water on it."
And said Mary, "The fragrance of the flowers was particularly noticeable
early this morning." Jake, as it happened, was no false prophet. It did rain
before evening.
Later in the day, Mary and Ralph drove to a near-by town, leaving horse
and carriage at the hotel until their return in the evening, and boarded a train
for Allentown. On arriving there, they decided to walk up Hamilton Street,
and later take a car out to the Fair grounds. As they sauntered slowly up the

main street, Mary noticed a small church built between two large
department stores and stopped to read a tablet on the church, which
informed the passerby that "this is to commemorate the concealment of the
Liberty Bell during the Revolutionary War. This tablet was erected by the
Liberty Bell Chapter of the Daughters of the Revolution."
The First Zion's Reformed Church was founded in 1762. In front of the
Church a rough block of granite, erected to the memory of John Jacob
Mickley, contained the following inscription: "In commemoration of the
saving of the Liberty Bell from the British in 1777. Under cover of darkness
and with his farm team, he, John Mickley, hauled the Liberty Bell from
Independence Hall, Philadelphia, through the British lines, to Bethlehem,
where the wagon broke down. The Bell was transferred to another wagon,
brought to Allentown, placed beneath the floor of the Second Church
building of Zion's Reformed Church, where it remained secreted nearly a
year. This tablet was placed by the order of the Assembly of the
Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, June 2nd, 1907, under the auspices of the
Pennsylvania Daughters of the Revolution."
This was all very interesting to a girl who had been born and reared in
Philadelphia; one who in earliest childhood had been taught to love and
venerate the "old Bell."
Ralph was quite as interested in reading about the old Bell as was Mary,
and said; "Did you know that the City of Philadelphia purchased the State
House property, which included the Bell, in 1818, in consideration of the
sum of seventy thousand dollars? No building is ever to be erected on the
ground inside the wall on the south side of the State House, but it is to
remain a public green and walk forever?"

Liberty Bell Tablet

"No," replied Mary, "I did not know that. I don't think we will see
anything of greater interest than this at the Fair."
"I understand," said Ralph, "this is the third church building built on this
site, where the original church stood in which the Bell was secreted."

Mary, possessing a fair share of the curiosity usually attributed to the
"female of the species," on noticing the church door standing ajar, asked
Ralph to step inside with her, thinking to find the caretaker within; but no
one was visible. A deep silence reigned in the cool, dim interior of the
House of God.
One could almost feel the silence, 'twas so impressive. Slowly they
walked up the wide church aisle and stood before the quaint baptismal font.
A stray sunbeam glancing through one of the beautiful, variously-colored
memorial windows, lighted up the pictured saint-like faces over the
chancel, making them appear as if imbued with life. Mary softly whispered
to Ralph, as if loath to profane the sacredness of the place by loud talking,
"I seem to hear a voice saying, 'The Lord is in His holy temple.'" Quietly
retracing their steps, they, without meeting any one, emerged into the bright
sunlight and were soon in the midst of the turmoil and traffic incident to the
principal business street of a city.
The young folks boarded a trolley and in a short time reached the Fair
grounds, which offered many attractions to Ralph as well as Mary. The
latter was interested in the fine display of needlework, fruits, flowers and
vegetables of unusual size. Aunt Sarah's bread won a prize. A blue ribbon
attached to Frau Schmidt's highly-prized, old-fashioned, patchwork quilt,
showed it to be a winner. Ralph, being interested in the pens of fancy
chickens, prize cattle, etc., Mary reluctantly left the woman's department of
fancy work, and other interesting things, and accompanied him. On their
way to the outlying cattle sheds they noticed two lovers sitting on a bench.
Upon a second glance they were convinced that it was Jake and Sibylla.
Jake, beaming with happiness, said, "Sibylla vos side by me yet?" They
were busily engaged eating a lunch consisting of rolls with hot "weiners"
between the two halves, or, as Jake called them, "Doggies," munching
pretzels and peanuts between sips of strong coffee, both supremely happy.
A yearly visit to the Allentown Fair on "Big Thursday," was the event in
their dull, prosaic lives.

DURHAM CAVE

CHAPTER XXX.
FRITZ SCHMIDT EXPLORES DURHAM CAVE.

It appeared to be nothing new for Fritz Schmidt to get into trouble; rather
the contrary. One day in early Fall, after the first frost, he, in company with
a number of boys, drove to Durham, not many miles distant from his home,
in search of persimmons, the crop of which, on account of the severity of
the preceding winter, old farmers had predicted would be exceedingly
heavy.
Fritz did not tell the boys of his intention to explore a cave which he had
been told was in the neighborhood, thinking it would be a good joke to
explore the cave first, then tell the boys later of his adventure.
The old gentleman from whom Fritz gained his information relative to the
cave aroused the boy's curiosity by saying, "Very many years ago, a
skeleton was found in Durham cave and one of the bones, on examination,
proved to be the thigh bone of a human being. How he came there, or the
manner of his death, was never known." A large room in the cave is known
as "Queen Esther's Drawing Room," where, tradition has it "Queen Esther,"
or Catharine Montour, which was her rightful name, at one time inhabited
this cave with some of her Indian followers.
Fritz accidentally stumbled upon the mouth of the cave. None of the other
boys being in sight, Fritz quickly descended into the cave, which was dark
as night. By lighting a second match as quickly as one was burned, he
explored quite a distance, when, accidentally dropping his box of matches,
the burning match in his hand, at the same moment, flickered faintly, then
went out, leaving Fritz in darkness. Imagine the feelings of the boy, as he
groped unsuccessfully on the floor of the cavern for the lost match box.
Finally, he gave up in despair. Fritz was not a cowardly boy, but while
searching for the matches, he, without thinking, had turned around several
times, lost his bearings and knew not in which direction to go to reach the

opening of the cave. He heard strange noises which he imagined were bats
flopping their wings. There appeared to be something uncanny about the
place, and Fritz devoutly wished himself out in the sunshine, when a
quotation he had frequently heard his father use came into his mind: "More
things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of." So Fritz knelt
down and prayed as he had been taught to pray at his mother's knee, but
more earnestly than he had ever prayed before in his life, that God would
help him find his way out of the cave, believing that his prayer would be
answered. And who shall say it was not answered? For, stumbling onward
in the darkness, not knowing if he were coming toward the cave's entrance
or going in the opposite direction, he eventually hailed with joy a faint
streak of light which he followed, and it soon brought him to the mouth of
the cave. He was surprised on joining his companions to find they had not
been alarmed at his absence. He had been in the cave only thirty minutes,
but to him it had seemed hours. Fritz says to this day he has a horror of
Durham Cave or "The Devil's Hole," as it was formerly called.

THE WOODLAND STREAM

CHAPTER XXXI.
MARY'S MARRIAGE.

His vacation ended, after a busy season at the farm, Ralph Jackson
returned to his work in the city, strong and robust. He had acquired the coat
of tan which Mary's Uncle had predicted. Physically strong as the "Cave
Man" of old, he felt capable of moving mountains, and as was natural, he
being only a human man, longed for the mate he felt God had intended
should one day be his, as men have done since our first gardener, Adam,
and will continue to do until the end of time.
When visiting the farm, an event which occurred about every two weeks,
Ralph constantly importuned Mary to name an early day for their marriage.
Mary, with a young girl's impulsiveness, had given her heart unreservedly
into the keeping of Ralph Jackson, her first sweetheart. Mary was not
naturally cold or unresponsive, neither was she lacking in passion. She had
had a healthy girlhood, and a wholesome home life. She had been taught the
conventional ideals of the marriage relations that have kept the race strong
throughout the centuries. Mary possessed great strength of character and
fine moral courage. Frequently, not wishing to show her real feeling for the
young man; too well poised to be carried off into the wrong channel,
defended and excused by many over-sentimental and light-headed novelists
of the day, she sometimes appeared almost indifferent to the impetuous
youth with warm, red blood leaping in his veins, who desired so ardently to
possess her.
Mary's Aunt had taught her the sanctity of parenthood, also that women
are not always the weaker sex. There are times when they must show their
superiority to "mere man" in being the stronger of the two, mentally if not
physically, and Ralph Jackson knew when he called Mary "wife" she would
endow him with all the wealth of her pure womanhood, sacredly kept for

the clean-souled young man, whose devotion she finally rewarded by
promising to marry him the second week in October.
Sibylla Linsabigler, a good but ignorant girl, accustomed to hearing her
elder brothers speak slightingly regarding the sanctity of love and marriage,
was greatly attached to Mary, whom she admired exceedingly, and looked
up to almost as a superior being. She unconsciously imitated many of
Mary's ways and mannerisms, and sought to adopt her higher ideals of life
and standard of morals.
One Sunday, as Jake Crouthamel was spending the evening with Sibylla,
as was his usual custom, he attempted some slight familiarity, which
annoyed Sibylla greatly. Jake, noticing the young girl's displeasure at his
action, remarked, "I think me Sibylla, you are stuck up yet" (a grave fault in
the Bucks County farm hand's opinion).
"No, Chake," Sibylla replied, "I ain't, but Mary, she say a man gives a girl
more respect what keeps herself to herself before she is married, and I lofe
you Chake and want that you respect me if we marry."
Fritz and Elizabeth Schmidt, on hearing the news of Mary's approaching
marriage, promptly begged the privilege of decorating the old farm house
parlor for the expected ceremony. They scoured the surrounding woods and
countryside for decorations; along old stone fences and among shrubbery
by the roadside they gathered large branches of Bitter Sweet. Its racemes of
orange-colored fruit, which later in the season becomes beautiful, when the
orange gives place to a brilliant red, the outer covering of the berry turns
back upon the stems, forming one of the prettiest pictures imaginable in late
Autumn. They also gathered branches of feathery wild clematis, which,
after the petals had fallen, resembled nothing so much as a cluster of apple
seeds, each seed tipped with what appeared like a tiny osprey feather. From
the woods near the farm they gathered quantities of trailing ground pine and
rainbow-tinted leaves from the numerous brilliant scarlet and yellow
maples, which appeared brighter in contrast to the sober-hued trees of
shellbark, oak and chestnut.

POLLY SCHMIDT.

The wedding gifts sent to Mary were odd, useful and numerous. The
Campfire Girls, to whom she became endeared, gave her a "Kitchen
Shower," consisting of a clothes basket (woven by an old basketmaker from
the willows growing not far distant), filled to overflowing with everything
imaginable that could possibly be useful to a young housekeeper, from the
half dozen neatly-hemmed linen, blue ribbon tied, dish clothes, to really

handsome embroidered articles from the girls to whom she had given
instructions in embroidery during the past summer.
Sibylla's wedding present to Mary was the work of her own strong,
willing hands, and was as odd and original as useful. 'Twas a "door mat"
made from corn husks, braided into a rope, then sewed round and round and
formed into an oval mat. Mary laughingly told Sibylla she thought when
'twas placed on her kitchen doorstep she'd ask every one to please step over
it, as it was too pretty to be trod on, which greatly pleased the young girl,
who had spent many hours of loving thought and labor on the simple,
inexpensive gift.
Mary received from Professor Schmidt a small but excellent copy of one
of the world's most famous pictures, "The Night Watch," painted by
Rembrandt, in 1642.
"My dear," said the old Professor, "I saw what was said to be the original
of this painting, the property of Queen Wilhelmina of Holland, at the St.
Louis Exposition in 1904. It was in a small, separate building. The size of
the picture was fifteen feet by twenty feet. It is the largest and best known
of Rembrandt's works. It acquired the wrong title of 'Night Watch' in a
period when, owing to the numerous coats of varnish and the effect of
smoke and dust, it had gotten so dark in appearance that only the most lucid
parts could be discerned. Nowadays, nobody doubts that the light falling
from the left on the boisterous company is that of the sun. The musketeers
are remarching out of the high archway of their hall, crossing the street in
front of it, and going up a bridge. The architecture of the building is a
product of Rembrandt's imagination. The steps, also, which we see the men
descending, were put there simply to make those at the back show out
above those in the front ranks. The march out was to be above all a portrait
group. Sixteen persons had each paid their contributions, a hundred guilders
on the average, to have their likenesses transmitted to posterity, and every
one of them was therefore to be fully visible."
"It is certainly a wonderful picture," said Mary, "and while I have seen
few pictures painted by old masters, I think, even with my limited
knowledge of art, I cannot fail to appreciate this excellent copy, and I thank

you heartily. Professor, and shall always be reminded of you when I look at
this copy of a great work."
Mary would not go empty-handed to Ralph at her marriage. Her "hope
chest" in the attic was full to overflowing, and quite unique in itself, as it
consisted of an old, in fact ancient, wooden dough-tray used in times past
by Aunt Sarah's grandmother. Beside it stood a sewing table, consisting of
three discarded broom handles supporting a cheese-box cover, with wooden
cheese-box underneath for holding Mary's sewing; stained brown and
cretonne lined. Mary valued it as the result of the combined labor of herself
and Ralph Jackson. A roll of new, home-made rag carpet, patchwork quilts
and "New Colonial" rugs, jars of fruit, dried sweet corn, home-made soap,
crocks of apple butter, jellies, jams and canned vegetables all bore evidence
of Mary's busy Summer at the farm.
The day of Mary's marriage, the twelfth of October, dawned clear and
bright, sunshine warm as a day in June. In the centre of the gayly-decorated
old farm house parlor, wearing a simple, little, inexpensive dress of soft,
creamy muslin, we find Mary standing beside Ralph, who is looking
supremely satisfied and happy, although a trifle pale and nervous, listening
to the solemn words of the minister. Ralph's "I will" sounded clearly and
distinctly through the long room. Mary, with a sweet, serious, faraway look
in her blue eyes, repeated slowly after the minister, "I promise to love,
honor and"—then a long pause. She glanced shyly up at the young man by
her side as if to make sure he was worth it, then in a low, clear tone, added,
"obey."
Ralph Jackson certainly deserved the appellation "Cave Man" given him
by Fritz Schmidt. He was considerably more than six feet in height, with
broad, square shoulders, good features, a clear brain and a sound body. He
had never used intoxicants of any description. He sometimes appeared quite
boyish in his ways, for on account of his matured look and great size he was
frequently judged to be older than he really was.
Aunt Sarah had provided a bounteous repast for the few friends
assembled, and while looking after the comfort of her guests tears dimmed
the kindly, gray eyes at the thought of parting from Mary.

Small Polly Schmidt, as flower girl at the wedding, was so excited she
scarcely knew if she should laugh or cry, and finally compromised by
giving Mary what she called a "bear hug," much to Mary's amusement.
Fritz gravely said: "Allow me to congratulate you, Mr. Jackson," and
turning to Mary, "I wish you a beautiful and happy life, Mrs. Jackson."
Mary blushed becomingly on hearing her new name for the first time.
Bidding farewell to friends, Mary and Ralph, accompanied by her Uncle,
were driven by "Chake" to the depot in a near-by town, where they boarded
the train for the little, newly-furnished home in the suburbs of Philadelphia,
the deed of which was Mary's wedding gift from her Uncle, in appreciation
of her faithful service on the farm during the summer and for the brightness
she had brought into his life and the lives of those with whom she had come
in contact, as every one at the farm had felt the captivating charm and
winning sweetness of the young girl.
As the train came in sight, the old gentleman, in a voice husky with
emotion, bade the young couple, just starting the journey of life together, an
affectionate farewell, and repeated solemnly, almost as a benediction, "Es
Salamu Aleikum."

MARY'S COLLECTION OF RECIPES

SMALL ECONOMIES, "LEFT-OVERS" OR "IVERICH
BLEIBST" AS AUNT SARAH CALLED THEM.

"The young housewife," said Aunt Sarah to Mary, in a little talk on small
economies in the household, "should never throw away pieces of hard
cheese. Grate them and keep in a cool, dry place until wanted, then spread
lightly over the top of a dish of macaroni, before baking; or sprinkle over
small pieces of dough remaining after baking pies, roll thin, cut in narrow
strips like straws, and bake light brown in a hot oven, as 'Cheese Straws.'"
Wash and dry celery tips in oven, and when not wished for soup they may
be used later for seasoning. The undesirable outer leaves of a head of
lettuce, if fresh and green, may be used if cut fine with scissors, and a
German salad dressing added. The heart of lettuce should, after washing
carefully, be placed in a piece of damp cheese cloth and put on ice until
wanted, then served at table "au natural," with olive oil and vinegar or
mayonnaise dressing to suit individual taste. Should you have a large
quantity of celery, trim and carefully wash the roots, cut them fine and add
to soup as flavoring. Almost all vegetables may be, when well cooked,
finely mashed, strained, and when added to stock, form a nourishing soup
by the addition of previously-cooked rice or barley. Add small pieces of
meat, well-washed bones cut from steaks or roasts, to the stock pot. Small
pieces of ham or bacon (left-overs), also bacon or ham gravy not thickened
with flour may be used occasionally, when making German salad dressing
for dandelion, endive, lettuce or water cress, instead of frying fresh pieces
of bacon.

AN OLD FASHIONED BUCKS COUNTY BAKE OVEN

It is a great convenience, also economical, to keep a good salad dressing
on hand, and when the white of an egg is used, the yolk remaining may he
added at once to the salad dressing (previously prepared). Mix thoroughly,
cook a minute and stand away in a cool place. Young housekeepers will be

surprised at the many vegetables, frequently left-overs, from which
appetizing salads may be made by the addition of a couple tablespoonfuls
of mayonnaise, besides nut meats, lettuce, watercress, celery and fruit, all of
which may be used to advantage. A good potato salad is one of the cheapest
and most easily prepared salads. A German dressing for dandelions, lettuce
or potatoes may be prepared in a few minutes by adding a couple of
tablespoonfuls of salad dressing (which the forehanded housewife will
always keep on hand) to a little hot ham or bacon gravy. Stirring it while
hot over the salad and serving at once.
A cup of mashed potatoes, left over from dinner, covered and set aside in
a cool place, may be used the next day, with either milk or potato water, to
set a sponge for "Dutch Cake," or cinnamon buns with equally good results
as if they had been freshly boiled (if the potatoes be heated luke-warm and
mashed through a sieve); besides the various other ways in which cold
boiled potatoes may be used.
Fruit juices or a couple tablespoonfuls of tart jelly or preserved fruit may
be added to mincemeat with advantage. Housewives should make an effort
to give their family good, plain, nourishing, wholesome food. The health of
the family depends so largely on the quality of food consumed. When not
having time, strength or inclination to bake cake, pies or puddings, have
instead good, sweet, home-made bread and fruit; if nothing else, serve
stewed fruit or apple sauce. Omit meat occasionally from the bill of fare
and serve instead a dish of macaroni and cheese and fruit instead of other
dessert. Serve a large, rich, creamy rice pudding for the children's lunch.
When eggs are cheap and plentiful make simple custards, old-fashioned
cornmeal puddings, tapioca, bread puddings and gelatine with fruits. These
are all good, wholesome, and not expensive, and in Summer may be
prepared in the cool of the early morning with small outlay of time, labor or
money. Plan your housework well the day before and have everything in
readiness. The pudding may be placed in the oven and baked white
preparing breakfast, economizing coal and the time required for other
household duties.
Every wife and mother who does her own housework and cooking these
days (and their number is legion) knows the satisfaction one experiences,
especially in hot weather, in having dinner and luncheon planned and partly

prepared early in the morning before leaving the kitchen to perform other
household tasks.
Another small economy of Aunt Sarah's was the utilizing of cold mashed
potatoes in an appetizing manner. The mashed potatoes remaining from a
former meal were put through a small fruit press or ricer to make them light
and flaky. To one heaped cup of mashed potatoes (measured before pressing
them through fruit press) she added ¾ cup of soft, stale bread crumbs, ¼
cup of flour sifted with ¼ teaspoonful of baking powder. Mix in lightly with
a fork yolk of one egg, then the stiffly beaten white, seasoned with salt and
a little minced onion or parsley, or both. With well-floured hands she
molded the mixture into balls the size of a shelled walnut, dropped into
rapidly boiling water and cooked them uncovered from 15 to 20 minutes,
then skimmed them from the water and browned in a pan with a little butter
and served on platter with meat, a pot roast or beef preferred. From the
above quantity of potatoes was made five potato balls.

THE MANY USES OF STALE BREAD
Never waste stale bread, as it may be used to advantage in many ways.
The young housewife will be surprised at the many good, wholesome and
appetizing dishes which may be made from stale bread, with the addition of
eggs and milk.
Take a half dozen slices of stale bread of equal size and place in a hot
oven a few minutes to become crisped on the outside so they may be
quickly toasted over a hot fire, a delicate brown. Butter them and for
breakfast serve with a poached egg on each slice.
A plate of hot, crisp, nicely-browned and buttered toast is always a
welcome addition to the breakfast table.
Serve creamed asparagus tips on slices of toast for luncheon.
The economical housewife carefully inspects the contents of her bread
box and refrigerator every morning before planning her meals for the day,
and is particular to use scraps of bread and left-over meat and vegetables as

quickly as possible. Especially is this necessary in hot weather. Never use
any food unless perfectly sweet and fresh. If otherwise, it is unfit for use.
Loaves of bread which have become stale can be freshened if wrapped in
a damp cloth for a few minutes, then remove and place in a hot oven until
heated through.
For a change, toast slices of stale bread quite crisp and serve a plate of
hot, plain toast at table, to be eaten broken in small pieces in individual
bowls of cold milk. Still another way is to put the stiffly-beaten white of an
egg on the centre of a hot, buttered slice of toast, carefully drop the yolk in
the centre of the beaten white and place in hot oven a few minutes to cook.
Serve with a bit of butter on top, season with pepper and salt. Serve at once.
Another way to use stale bread is to toast slices of bread, spread with
butter, pour over 1 cup of hot milk, in which has been beaten 1 egg and a
pinch of salt. Serve in a deep dish. Or a cup of hot milk may be poured over
crisply-toasted slices of buttered bread, without the addition of an egg.

"BROD GRUMMELLA"
In a bowl containing 1 cup of soft bread crumbs pour 1 cup of sweet milk,
then add the slightly-beaten yolks of three eggs, a little pepper and salt, then
the stiffly-beaten whites of the three eggs. Place in a fry-pan a tablespoonful
of butter and 1 of lard or drippings; when quite hot pour the omelette
carefully in the pan. When it begins to "set" loosen around the edges and
from the bottom with a knife. When cooked turn one side over on the other
half, loosen entirely from the pan, then slide carefully on a hot platter and
serve at once. Garnish with parsley.

CROUTONS AND CRUMBS
Still another way is to make croutons. Cut stale bread into small pieces,
size of dice, brown in hot oven and serve with soup instead of serving

crackers. Small pieces of bread that cannot be used otherwise should be
spread over a large pan, placed in a moderate oven and dried until crisp.
They may then be easily rolled fine with a rolling-pin or run through the
food chopper and then sifted, put in a jar, stood in a dry place until wanted,
but not in an air-tight jar. Tie a piece of cheese-cloth over the top of jar.
These crumbs may be used for crumbing eggplant, oysters, veal cutlets or
croquettes. All should be dipped in beaten white of eggs and then in the
crumbs, seasoned with salt and pepper, then floated in a pan of hot fat
composed of ⅔ lard and ⅓ suet. All except veal cutlets. They should be
crumbed, not floated in deep fat, but fried slowly in a couple tablespoonfuls
of butter and lard.
Also fry fish in a pan of hot fat. Shad is particularly fine, prepared in this
manner (when not baked). Cut in small pieces, which when breaded are
floated in hot fat. If the fat is the right temperature when the fish is put in, it
absorbs less fat than when fried in a small quantity of lard and butter.

"ZWEIBACH"
Cut wheat bread in slices not too thin. Place in a warm, not hot, oven, and
allow it to remain until thoroughly dry and crisp. Place in a toaster or a wire
broiler over a hot fire and toast a golden brown and allow it to remain in the
oven until toasted. Keep in cool place until used. Zweibach is considered
more wholesome than fresh bread.

"GERMAN" EGG BREAD
Cut stale bread into slices about ¾ inch thick. Cut slices in half, and soak
for a few minutes, turning frequently, in the following mixtures: 1 pint of
sweet milk, 3 eggs, 1 teaspoonful flour mixed smooth with a little of the
cold milk and a pinch of salt. Fry half dozen slices of thinly-sliced bacon in
a pan. Put bacon, when fried, in oven to keep hot. Dip the slices of soaked
bread in fine, dried bread crumbs and fry quickly in the bacon fat (to which

has been added one tablespoon of butter) to a golden brown. Serve at once
on the same platter with the bacon, or instead of using bacon fat, fry the
crumbed bread in sweet drippings, or a tablespoonful each of lard and
butter. This is an appetizing and wholesome breakfast or luncheon dish,
served with a tart jelly, either currant or grape.

CREAMED TOAST
Partly fill a large tureen with slices of crisply-browned and buttered toast.
(Slices of bread which have become dry and hard may be used for this
dish.) When ready to serve, not before, pour over the toasted slices 1 quart
of hot milk to which 1 teaspoonful of flour or cornstarch has been added,
after being mixed smoothly with a little cold milk or water and cooked a
few minutes until thick as cream. Add also a pinch of salt.
If milk is not plentiful, prepare one pint of milk and dip each slice of
toasted bread quickly in a bowl of hot water; place in a deep dish and
quickly pour over the hot milk, to which a tablespoonful of butter has been
added, and serve at once.

BREAD AND ROLLS
Bread, called the "Staff of Life," on account of its nutritive value, should
head the list of foods for human consumption. Bread making should stand
first in the "Science of Cooking," as there is no one food upon which the
comfort, health and well-being of the average family so largely depends as
upon good bread. There is absolutely no reason why the housewife of the
present day should not have good, sweet, wholesome, home-made bread, if
good yeast, good flour and common-sense are used. The milk or water used
to mix with flour for making bread sponge should be lukewarm. If too hot,
the loaves will be full of holes and coarse grained. If too cold the bread,
chilled, will not rise as it should have done had the liquid used been the
right temperature. Good bread may be made by using milk, potato water or

whey (drained from thick sour milk), and good bread may be made by
simply using lukewarm water. I prefer a mixture of milk and water to set
sponge. Milk makes a fine-grained, white bread, but it soon dries out and
becomes stale. Bread rises more slowly when milk is used. When mashed
potatoes are used, the bread keeps moist a longer time. Should you wish
extra fine, white, delicate bread, add one cup of sweet cream to the liquid
when setting sponge. When milk is used the dough is slower in rising, but
makes a creamy-looking and fine-flavored bread. When one Fleischman
yeast cake is used in any recipe the ordinary half-ounce cake of compressed
yeast is intended, twenty-eight cakes in a pound. These are usually kept in a
large refrigerator in a temperature of 44 degrees and should not be kept
longer in the home than three days in Summer or six days in Winter, and
should always be kept in a cool place until used, if the cook would have
success when using.
Use the best hard, Spring wheat flour obtainable for baking bread, or any
sponge raised with yeast, as this flour contains a greater quantity of gluten
and makes bread of high nutritive value.
Winter wheat maybe used for cake-making and for baking pastry with
excellent results, although costing less than Spring wheat.
Always sift flour before using, when setting sponge for bread. When
mixing sponge use one quart liquid to about three pounds of flour. "Aunt
Sarah" always cut several gashes with a sharp knife on top of loaves when
ready to be placed in oven. She also made several cuts across the top of
loaves with a hot knife when set to rise to allow gas to escape. If an
impression made on a loaf of bread with the finger remains, the bread is
light. If the dent disappears, then the loaf is not light enough to be placed in
the oven; give it more time to rise. An experienced cook, noted for the
excellence and size of her loaves of bread, said she always inverted a pail
over the pan containing loaves of bread when set to rise, and allowed the
bread to remain covered after being placed in the oven. Loaves will rise to a
greater height if this is done. Remove the covering to allow loaves to brown
a short time before taking them from the oven. "Aunt Sarah" frequently
placed four loaves in her large roasting pan, covered the pan, when set to
rise, and allowed the cover to remain until loaves were nearly baked. She
brushed the top and sides of loaves with melted butter when set to rise to

allow of their being broken apart easily. A more crusty loaf is secured by
placing each loaf singly in medium-sized bread tins.
Aunt Sarah considered Fleischman's compressed yeast the best
commercial yeast in use, both quick and reliable, but thought better bread
was never made than that made by her mother, as she had been taught to
make it in years past, by the old-fashioned and slower "sponge method."
She was invariably successful in making sweet, wholesome bread in that
manner. She used home-made potato yeast or "cornmeal yeast cakes," under
different names, always with good results.
Good bread may be made either by the old-fashioned "sponge" method or
"straight." Sponge method consists of a batter mixed from liquid yeast
(usually home-made potato yeast is used) and a small part of the flour
required for making the bread. This batter was usually set to rise at night
and mixed up in the centre of a quantity of flour, in an old-fashioned
wooden dough tray. The following morning enough flour was kneaded in to
form a dough, and when well-raised and light, this dough was formed into
loaves and placed in pans for the final rising. The more easily and more
quickly made "straight" dough, when using Fleischman's compressed yeast,
is mixed in the morning and all the ingredients necessary are added at one
time. It is then set to rise and, when the dough has doubled in bulk, it is
kneaded down and when risen to once and half its size, shaped into loaves,
placed in pans to rise and, when risen to top of pans, bake.
Better bread may be made from flour not freshly milled. Flour should be
kept in a dry place; it improves with moderate age. Stand flour in a warm
place to dry out several hours before using if you would have good bread.
When baking bread the heat of the oven should not be too great at first, or
the outside of the bread will harden too quickly and inside the loaves will
not be thoroughly baked before the crust is thick and dark. The temperature
of the oven and time required for baking depend upon the size of the loaves,
yet the bread should be placed in rather a quick oven, one in which the
loaves should brown in about fifteen minutes, when the heat may be
reduced, finishing the baking more slowly.
Small biscuits and rolls can stand a much hotter oven and quicker baking
than large loaves, which must be heated slowly, and baked a longer time. A

one-pound loaf should bake about one hour. On being taken from the oven,
bread should be placed on a sieve, so that the air can circulate about it until
it is thoroughly cooled. In the Farmers' Bulletin, we read: "The lightness
and sweetness depend as much on the way bread is made as on the
materials used." The greatest care should be used in preparing and baking
the dough and in cooking and keeping the finished bread. Though good
housekeepers agree that light, well-raised bread can readily be made, with
reasonable care and attention, heavy, badly-raised bread is unfortunately
very common. Such bread is not palatable and is generally considered to be
unwholesome, and probably more indigestion has been caused by it than by
any other badly-cooked food. As compared with most meats and vegetables,
bread has practically no waste and is very completely digested, but it is
usually too poor in proteins to be fittingly used as the sole article of diet,
but when eaten with due quantities of other food, it is invaluable and well
deserves its title of "Staff of Life."
When the housewife "sets" bread sponge to rise over night, she should
mix the sponge or dough quite late, and early in the morning mold it at once
into shapely-looking loaves (should the sponge have had the necessary
amount of flour added the night before for making a stiff dough).
Being aware of the great nutritive value of raisins and dried currants, Aunt
Sarah frequently added a cup of either one or the other, well-floured, to the
dough when shaping into loaves for the final rising.
Aunt Sarah frequently used a mixture of butter and lard when baking on
account of its being more economical, and for the reason that a lesser
quantity of lard may be used; the shortening qualities being greater than that
of butter. The taste of lard was never detected in her bread or cakes, they
being noted for their excellence, as the lard she used was home-rendered,
almost as sweet as dairy butter, free from taste or odor of pork. She always
beat lard to a cream when using it for baking cakes, and salted it well before
using, and I do not think the small quantity used could be objected to on
hygienic principles.
I have read "bread baking" is done once every three or four weeks, no
oftener, in some of the farm houses of Central Europe, and yet stale bread is
there unknown. Their method of keeping bread fresh is to sprinkle flour into

a large sack and into this pack the loaves, taking care to have the top crusts
of bread touch each other. If they have to lie bottom to bottom, sprinkle
flour between them. Swing the sack in a dry place. It must swing and there
must be plenty of flour between the loaves. It sounds more odd than
reasonable, I confess.

"BUCKS COUNTY" HEARTH-BAKED RYE BREAD (AS MADE
BY AUNT SARAH)

1 quart sweet milk (scalded and cooled).
1 tablespoonful lard or butter.
2 table spoonsful sugar.
½ tablespoonful salt.
1 cup wheat flour.
3 quarts rye flour (this includes the one cup of wheat flour).
1 Fleischman yeast cake or 1 cup of potato yeast.

"BUCKS COUNTY" RYE BREAD

Pour 1 quart of luke-warm milk in a bowl holding 7 quarts. Add butter,
sugar and salt, 1½ quarts rye flour and 1 cup of yeast, or one Fleischman's
yeast cake, dissolved in a little lukewarm water. Beat thoroughly, cover
with cloth, and set in a warm place to rise about three hours, or until it
almost reaches the top of bowl. When light, stir in the remaining 1½ quarts
of rye flour, in which one cup of wheat is included; turn out on a well-
floured bake board and knead about twenty minutes. Shape dough into one
high, round loaf, sprinkle flour liberally over top and sides of loaf, and
place carefully into the clean bowl on top of a well-floured cloth. Cover and
set to rise about one hour, when it should be light and risen to top of bowl.
Turn the bowl containing the loaf carefully upside down on the centre of a
hot sheet iron taken from the hot oven and placed on top of range. A
tablespoonful of flour should have been sifted over the sheet iron before
turning the loaf out on it. Remove cloth from dough carefully after it has
been turned from bowl and place the sheet iron containing loaf immediately
in the hot oven, as it will then rise at once and not spread. Bake at least sixty
minutes. Bread is seldom baked long enough to be wholesome, especially
graham and rye bread. When baked and still hot, brush the top of loaf with
butter and wash the bottom of loaf well with a cloth wrung out of cold
water, to soften the lower, hard-baked crust. Wrap in a damp cloth and stand
aside to cool where the air will circulate around it. Always set rye bread to
rise early in the morning of the same day it is to be baked, as rye sponge
sours more quickly than wheat sponge. The bread baked from this recipe
has the taste of bread which, in olden times, was baked in the brick ovens of
our grandmother's day, and that bread was unexcelled. I know of what I am
speaking, having watched my grandmother bake bread in an old-fashioned
brick oven, and have eaten hearth-baked rye bread, baked directly on the
bottom of the oven, and know, if this recipe be closely followed, the young
housewife will have sweet, wholesome bread. Some Germans use Kumel or
Caraway seed in rye bread.
Aunt Sarah's loaves of rye bread, baked from the above recipe, were
invariably 3½ inches high, 14½ inches in diameter and 46 inches in
circumference and always won a blue ribbon at Country Fairs and Farmers'
Picnics.
In the oven of Aunt Sarah's range was always to be found a piece of sheet
iron 17 inches in length by 16 inches in width. The three edges of the sheet

iron turned down all around to a depth of half an inch, the two opposite
corners being cut off about a half inch, to allow of its being turned down. It
is a great convenience for young housewives to possess two of these sheet-
iron tins, or "baking sheets," when baking small cakes or cookies, as being
raised slightly from the bottom of the oven, cakes are less liable to scorch
and bake more evenly. One sheet may be filled while baking another
sheetful of cakes. In this manner a large number of cakes may be baked in a
short time. This baking sheet was turned the opposite way, upside down,
when baking a loaf of rye bread on it, and when the loaf of bread was partly
baked the extra baking sheet was slipped under the bottom of the one
containing the loaf, in case the oven was quite hot, to prevent the bottom of
the bread scorching. Wheat bread may be baked in the same manner as rye
bread, substituting wheat flour for rye. These baking sheets may be made by
any tinsmith, and young housewives, I know, would not part with them,
once they realize how invaluable they are for baking small cakes on them
easily and quickly.

"FRAU SCHMIDTS" GOOD WHITE BREAD (SPONGE
METHOD)
To one quart of potato water, drained from potatoes which were boiled for
mid-day dinner, she added about ½ cup of finely-mashed hot potatoes and
stood aside. About four o'clock in the afternoon she placed one pint of
lukewarm potato water and mashed potatoes in a bowl with ¼ cup of
granulated sugar and ½ a dissolved Fleischman's yeast cake, beat all well
together, covered with a cloth and stood in a warm place until light and
foamy. About nine o'clock in the evening she added the reserved pint of
(lukewarm) potato water and ½ tablespoonful of salt to the yeast sponge,
with enough warmed, well-dried flour to stiffen, and kneaded it until dough
was fine-grained. She also cut through the dough frequently with a sharp
knife. When the dough was elastic and would not adhere to molding-board
or hands, she placed it in a bowl, brushed melted lard or butter over top to
prevent a crust forming, covered warmly with a cloth and allowed it to
stand until morning. Frau Schmidt always rose particularly early on bake
day, for fear the sponge might fall or become sour, if allowed to stand too

long. She molded the dough into four small loaves, placed it in pans to rise
until it doubled its original bulk. When light she baked it one hour. Bread
made according to these directions was fine-grained, sweet and wholesome.
She always cut several gashes across top of loaf with a sharp knife when
loaves were set to rise, to allow gas to escape.

EXCELLENT "GRAHAM BREAD"
At 6.30 A.M. place in a quart measure ½ cup of sweet cream and 3½ cups
of milk, after being scalded (1 quart all together). When lukewarm, add 1
Fleischman yeast cake, dissolved in a little of the luke warm milk, 3
tablespoonfuls sugar and 1 tablespoonful salt. Add 3 cups each of white
bread flour and 3 cups of graham flour (in all 6 cups or 1½ quarts of flour).
Mix well together and stand in a warm place, closely covered, a couple of
hours, until well-risen. Then stir sponge down and add about 2½ cups each
of graham and of white flour. (Sponge for graham bread should not be quite
as stiff as a sponge prepared from white flour.) Set to rise again for an hour,
or longer; when light, stir down sponge and turn on to a well-floured board.
Knead well, divide into four portions, mold into four small, shapely loaves,
brush with soft butter, place in well-greased pans, set to rise, and in about
one hour they should be ready to put in a moderately-hot oven. Bake about
fifty minutes. Graham bread should be particularly well-baked. Brush
loaves, when baked, with butter, which makes a crisp crust with a nutty
flavor.
Should cream not be available, one quart of scalded milk, containing one
tablespoonful of butter, may be used with good results. If cream be used
with the milk, no shortening is required in the bread. Bread is considered
more wholesome when no shortening is used in its preparation.

GRAHAM BREAD (AN OLD RECIPE)

2 cups sour milk

2 cups sweet milk or water.
1 teaspoon soda (Salaratus)
Graham flour.
½ cup molasses.
1 tablespoonful melted butter.
Pinch of salt.

Stiffen about as thick as ordinary molasses cake. Bake at once.

"MARY'S" RECIPE FOR WHEAT BREAD

1 cup sweet milk (scalded).
1 cup cold water.
1 cake Fleischman's yeast (dissolved in a small quantity of luke-warm
water).
1½ teaspoonfuls sugar.
1 rounded teaspoonful salt.
1 tablespoonful butter.
Flour, about 1½ quarts.

This makes good bread and, as bread is apt to chill if set over night in a
cold kitchen, or sour if allowed to stand over night in summer, set this
sponge early in the morning. Stiffen with flour and knead about 25 minutes;
place the dough in a covered bowl in a warm place to rise about two hours
and when well-risen and light, knead and stand one hour. Then mold into
shapely loaves, place in pans, brush tops of loaves with melted butter, and
when doubled in bulk, in about 45 minutes put in an oven which is so hot
you can hold your hand in only while you count thirty, or if a little flour
browns in the oven in about six minutes, it is hot enough for bread. The
oven should be hot enough to brown the bread slightly five minutes after
being put in. Medium-sized loaves of bread require from ¾ of an hour to
one hour to bake. When bread is sufficiently baked it can be told by turning
the loaf over and rapping with the knuckles on the bottom of the loaf. If it
sounds hollow, it is thoroughly baked, and should be taken from the oven.
Stand loaves up on end against some object, where the air can circulate

around them, and brush a little butter over the top to soften the crust. An
authority on the chemistry of foods cautious housewives against cooling
loaves of bread too rapidly after taking from the oven, and I should like to
add a word of caution against eating fresh breads of any kind. Bread should
be baked at least twelve hours before being eaten. The sponge for this bread
was set at 6 o'clock in the morning; bread was baked at 10.30.
From 1 pint of liquid, 1 cake of yeast and about 1½ quarts of flour were
made two loaves of bread. More yeast is required to raise a sponge
containing sugar, eggs and shortening than is required to raise bread sponge
containing only liquid, flour and yeast.

"FRAU SCHMIDTS" EASILY-MADE GRAHAM BREAD
Should you care to have a couple of loaves of graham bread instead of all-
wheat, take a generous cup of the above sponge before it is stiffened beyond
a thick batter, and add one tablespoonful of brown sugar or molasses, stiffen
with graham flour (not quite as stiff as when making wheat bread), rub
butter or lard on top of dough, cover and set in a warm place to rise. When
light, mold into one small loaf (never make graham bread into large loaves),
place in oblong pan, cover, let stand until light, about 1½ hours, when it
should have doubled in size; put in oven and bake thoroughly. When the
loaf is taken from the oven, brush butter over the top. This keeps the crust
moist.
If a wholesome loaf of "Corn Bread" is wished, use fine, yellow,
granulated cornmeal to stiffen the sponge instead of graham flour; do not
make dough too stiff.

WHOLE-WHEAT BREAD

1 pint boiling water.
1 pint sweet milk.
½ Fleischman's yeast cake dissolved in luke-warm water.

½ tablespoon salt.
Flour.

When the milk and water are lukewarm add the yeast cake and salt. Then
add enough whole wheat flour to make a thin batter. Let stand in a warm
place three or four hours. Then stir in as much wheat flour (whole wheat) as
can be stirred in well with a large spoon, and pour into well-greased pans.
Let rise to double its bulk; then bake from three-fourths to one hour,
according to the size of the loaves. This quantity makes three loaves.

NUT BREAD

3 cups graham flour.
1 cup wheat flour.
4 teaspoons baking powder.
1 cup chopped English walnuts.
1 cup sugar.
1 small teaspoon "Mapleine" flavoring (if liked).
½ cup milk.
Pinch salt.
½ cup floured raisins (seeded).

Put in a good-sized bread pan and bake on hour in a moderate oven.
Strange as it may seem, this bread is lighter and better if allowed to stand a
half hour before being placed in the oven to bake.

FRAU SCHMIDTS "QUICK BREAD"
The Professor's wife seldom used any liquid except water to set a sponge
for bread. She seldom used any shortening. She taught Mary to make bread
by the following process, which she considered superior to any other. From
the directions given, housewives may think more time devoted to the
making of a couple of loaves of bread than necessary; also, that too great a

quantity of yeast was used; but the bread made by "Frau Schmidt" was
excellent, quickly raised and baked.
The whole process consumed only about four hours' time, and how could
time be more profitably spent than in baking sweet, crusty loaves of bread,
even in these strenuous days when the efficient housekeeper plans to
conserve strength, time and labor?
First, two Fleischman's compressed yeast cakes were placed in a bowl and
dissolved with 4 tablespoonfuls of luke-warm water; she then added 1 cup
of lukewarm water, ½ tablespoonful of sugar and ½ teaspoonful of salt and
stirred all well together. The bowl containing this yeast foam was allowed
to stand in a warm place, closely covered, one hour.
At the end of that time the yeast mixture should be light and foamy. It was
then poured into the centre of a bowl containing about 4½ cups of warmed
flour, mixing the foamy yeast with a portion of the flour to make a soft
sponge, leaving a wall of flour around the inside edge of bowl, as our
grandmothers used to do in olden times when they mixed a sponge for
bread of liquid flour and yeast, in one end of the old-fashioned wooden
"dough tray," using a wooden stick or small paddle for stirring together the
mixture.
The bowl containing the sponge was placed in a warm place to rise. In
about 15 or 20 minutes ½ cup of lukewarm water was added to the sponge,
stirring in all the outside wall of flour until a dough, the proper consistency
for bread, was formed. The dough was turned out on the molding board and
given a couple of quick, deft turns with the hands for several minutes, then
placed in the bowl and again set to rise in a warm place, free from draughts,
for 25 or 30 minutes. When light, with hands slightly greased with butter,
she kneaded the dough a short time, until smooth and elastic, divided the
dough into two portions, placed each loaf in warmed, well-greased bread
pans and stood in a warm place about ¼ hour. Then turned the contents of
bread pans onto bake-board, one at a time. Cut each loaf into three portions,
rolled each piece into long, narrow strips with the palms of the hands.
Pinched ends of the three strips together and braided or plaited them into a
braid almost the length of bread pan. Placed each braided loaf in a bread
pan and set to raise as before. When well-raised, brush the top of loaves

with melted butter. Bake about three-quarters of an hour in a moderately-
hot oven. An old-fashioned way of testing the heat of the oven was to hold
the hand in the oven while counting thirty. Should one be unable to bear the
heat of oven a longer time, then the temperature was correct for baking
bread. Should one be able to allow the hand to remain in the oven a longer
time, the heat of the oven should be increased.
As a result of carefully following these minute directions, even an
inexperienced housewife should have sweet, wholesome bread.
Frau Schmidt insisted that rolling portions of dough separately before
combining in a loaf, as for braided loaves, caused the bread to have a finer
texture than if just shaped into round loaves.

AN "OATMEAL LOAF"
For a loaf of oatmeal bread, place 1 cup of crushed oats, or common
oatmeal, in a bowl, pour over ½ cup of hot milk. When luke warm, add 1
cup of sponge, or batter, reserved from that raised over night for making
loaves of white bread; 1 teaspoonful butter, 1 teaspoonful sugar and ½
teaspoonful salt, and about 2 scant cups of white flour. Knead a few
minutes, set to rise in a warm place, closely covered, about one hour or until
doubled in bulk. Then knead down and form into a shapely loaf, place in a
pan, brush melted butter over top (this improves crust), and when raised,
doubled in bulk (in about one hour), place in a moderately hot oven and
bake from 40 to 45 minutes. Raisins may be added to this loaf, if liked.
Mary preferred this oatmeal loaf to graham bread.
The sponge or batter from which this oatmeal-loaf was made had been
prepared in the following manner:
To 1½ cups of luke-warm potato water was added 1 teaspoonful of sugar,
1 cake of yeast; when dissolved, add 1½ cups of white bread flour. Beat all
together well, stand closely-covered in a warm place until the following
morning. From one cup of this sponge was made one oatmeal loaf, and to

the other cup of sponge white flour was added for a loaf of white bread or
rolls.

AUNT SARAH'S WHITE BREAD (SPONGE METHOD)
Prepare the following "Yeast Sponge" at noon, the day preceding that on
which you bake bread: Place in a bowl (after the mid-day meal) 1 quart of
potato water (containing no salt), in which potatoes were boiled; also two
medium-sized, finely-mashed potatoes, 1 tablespoonful of sugar and, when
luke warm, add 1 cup of good home-made or baker's yeast. Mix all well
together; then divide this mixture and pour each half into each of two 1-
quart glass fruit jars. Place covers tightly on jars and shake each jar well, to
mix yeast and potato-water thoroughly. Stand yeast in a warm place near
the kitchen range over night. Jars should be covered only with a napkin. The
sponge should become light and foamy. In the morning use this freshly-
prepared yeast to set sponge for bread.
When preparing to set bread, place in a large bowl 1 pint of potato water,
1 tablespoonful of sugar, 1 pint of the yeast sponge, ½ teaspoonful of salt,
and use about 3 pounds of sifted flour, well-dried and warmed. Knead from
15 to 20 minutes, until a stiff dough is formed. The dough should be fine-
grained and elastic and not stick to bake board. Place dough in the bowl to
rise; this should lake about four hours. When well-risen and light knead
down and set to rise again, about 1½ hours. When light, mold into three
large, shapely loaves; place in pans and allow to stand one hour. When
loaves have doubled in bulk, are very light and show signs of cracking,
invert a pan over top of loaves (if that was not done when loaves were put
in pans), and place in a rather hot oven to bake. Brush melted butter over
loaves of bread when set to rise, it will cause bread to have a crisp crust
when baked. The old-fashioned way of testing the heat of an oven was to
hold the hand in the oven, if possible, while one counted thirty.
The pint of yeast remaining in jar may be kept in a cool place one week,
and may be used during this time in making fresh "yeast foam." This should
always be prepared the day before baking bread. Always prepare double the
quantity of "yeast foam." Use half to set bread, and reserve half for next
baking. Bread baked from this recipe has frequently taken first prize at
County Fairs and Farmers' Picnics.

When baking bread, the oven should be quite hot when bread is first
placed therein, when the bread should rise about an inch; then the heat of
the oven should he lessened and in a half hour a brown crust should begin
forming; and during the latter part of the hour (the time required for baking
an ordinary-sized loaf) the heat of the oven should be less, causing the
bread to bake slowly. Should the heat of the oven not be great enough,
when the loaves are placed within for baking, then poor bread would be the
result. This method of making bread will insure most satisfactory results,
although more troublesome than ordinary methods.

RECIPE FOR "PULLED BREAD"
Take a Vienna loaf of bread, twelve-hours old, cut away all the crust with
a clean-cut knife, then break away gently (with your fingers only) small
finger-lengths of the bread, place in a moderate oven and brown a golden
brown, and it is ready to serve. 'Tis said six loaves will be required for one
pound of this pulled bread. 'Tis easily prepared in the home, but quite
costly, when purchased. Many people prefer "pulled bread" to fresh bread,
as it is more wholesome.

AUNT SARAH'S "HUTZEL BROD"

2 pounds dried pears.
2 pounds dried prunes.
2 quarts juice of fruit and water.
1 pound dried currants.
1 pound seeded raisins.
1 pound blanched and shredded almonds.
1 pound chopped English walnut meats.
1½ ounces finely-shredded citron.
1½ ounces orange peel.
½ ounce chopped figs.
1 ounce ground cinnamon.

¼ ounce ground cloves.
2½ ounces anise seed.
6 pounds flour (warmed and sifted).
2 cakes compressed yeast.
1½ cups sugar.
1 large tablespoon butter.
1 tablespoon salt.
4 tablespoons brandy or sherry.

The whole recipe will make 12 loaves of bread.
This delicious German bread was usually made by "Aunt Sarah" one
week before Christmas. It may be kept two weeks, and at the end of that
time still be good. It is rather expensive as regards fruit and nuts, but as no
eggs are used, and a very small quantity of butter; and as bread containing
fruit is so much more wholesome than rich fruit cake. I think American
housewives would do well to bake this German bread occasionally. Mary
took one-fourth the quantity of everything called for in the recipe, except
yeast. She used ¾ of a cake of Fleischman's yeast and ¼ of each of the other
ingredients, and from these baked three loaves of bread. The prunes and
pears should be covered with cold water at night and allowed to stand until
the following morning, when, after stewing until tender, the juice should be
drained from the fruit and water added to the fruit-juice to measure two
quarts. Remove pits from prunes, cut pears and prunes in small pieces;
stand aside. Clean currants and raisins, blanch and shred almonds, chop
walnut meats, citron, orange peel and figs; add cinnamon, cloves and anise
seed. Mix together flour and one quart of the fruit juice; add the compressed
yeast cakes (dissolved in a little warm water), knead well, set a sponge as
for ordinary bread; when raised, add the remaining quart of fruit juice,
sugar, butter and salt. A small quantity of brandy or sherry may be added,
but if not liked, fruit juice may be substituted.
Add the remaining ingredients, and knead thoroughly. Allow dough to
raise from two to three hours and when light form into loaves and allow to
stand an hour, when bake. This quantity of dough should be made into
twelve small loaves. Should the flour and liquid used be warmed before
mixing, the dough will raise more quickly. It simplifies the work if the fruits
and nuts be prepared the day before the bread is baked.

AUNT SARAH'S WHITE BREAD AND ROLLS

1 quart potato water.
1 mashed potato.
1 tablespoonful butter or lard.
1 tablespoonful sugar.
1 Fleischman yeast cake, or 1 cup good yeast.
½ tablespoonful salt.
Flour to stiffen (about three quarts).

At 9 o'clock in the evening put in a large bowl the mashed potato, the
quart of luke-warm potato water (water in which potatoes were boiled for
dinner), butter or sweet lard, sugar, salt, and mix with flour into a batter, to
which add the Fleischman's or any good yeast cake, dissolved in a little
luke-warm water. Beat well and stir in flour until quite stiff, turn out on a
well-floured bake-board and knead well about 25 minutes, until the dough
is smooth, fine-grained and elastic, and does not stick lo the bake-board or
hands. Chop a knife through the dough several times; knead and chop
again. This makes the bread finer and closer-grained, or, so Aunt Sarah
thought. Knead in all the flour necessary when first mixing the bread. When
sufficiently kneaded, form into a large, round ball of dough, rub all over
with soft lard, or butter, to prevent forming a crust on top and keep from
sticking to bowl, and set to rise, closely-covered with a cloth and blanket, in
a warm place until morning. In the morning the bread should be very light,
doubled in quantity. Take out enough dough for an ordinary loaf, separate
this into three parts, roll each piece with the hand on the bake-board into
long, narrow pieces. Pinch the three pieces together at one end and braid, or
plait, into a narrow loaf. Brush over top with melted butter; set to rise in a
warm place in a bread pan, closely-covered, until it doubles in size—or, if
preferred, mold into ordinary-shaped loaves, and let rise until doubled in
size, when bake in a moderately-hot oven with steady heat.
Frequently, when the "Twist" loaves of bread were quite light and ready to
be placed in the oven, Aunt Sarah brushed the tops with yolk of egg, or a

little milk, then strewed "Poppy Seeds" thickly over. The poppy seeds give
an agreeable flavor to the crust of the bread.

AUNT SARAH'S RAISED ROLLS (FROM BREAD DOUGH)
A portion of the white bread dough may be made into raised rolls. These
rolls are excellent without additional shortening, or, in fact, without
anything else being added. Mold pieces of the bread dough into balls the
size of a walnut; roll each piece flat with the rolling pin, dip in melted
butter, fold and place close together in a bake pan. Let rise very light, then
bake about 15 minutes in a very hot oven. If a teaspoonful of flour browns
in about two minutes in the oven, it is the right temperature for rolls.

CLOVER-LEAF ROLLS
Take pieces of the bread dough, the size of a walnut, cut into three pieces,
mold with the hand into round balls the size of small marbles; dip each one
in melted butter, or butter and lard, and place three of these in each Gem
pan. (These pans may be bought six or twelve small pans fastened together,
and are much more convenient than when each one must be handled
separately when baking). Allow small rolls to become very light, bake in a
hot oven, and you will find them excellent. Dipping the rolls in melted
butter makes them crisp. Serve hot, or place in a hot oven a few minutes
until heated through, if served after they have become cold.

"POLISH" RYE BREAD (AS MADE IN BUCKS COUNTY)
This excellent, nutritious bread, is made from the whole-ground grain.
Every part of the grain is used in the flour, when ground. To bake this bread,
sift together one quart of this "whole-ground" rye flour and two quarts of
white-bread flour. Early in the morning of the day on which bread is to be

baked, prepare a thick batter, or sponge, consisting of one quart of potato
water (or the same quantity of luke-warm, scalded milk, or a mixture of the
two); add one tablespoonful of a mixture of lard and butter and two boiled,
mashed potatoes. Two tablespoonfuls of sugar, one-half tablespoonful of
salt and one Fleischman's compressed yeast cake, dissolved in a small
quantity of water; add about five cups of the mixed, sifted flour, beat the
batter well, and stand in a warm place, covered, from one and a half to two
hours. When well-risen and light, stir in balance of flour gradually, until all
except one cup has been added; then turn onto a bake-board and knead well.
This sponge should not be quite as stiff as for wheat bread. Turn the dough
onto a clean, well-floured cloth in a large bowl, set to rise and bake
according to directions for baking "Hearth-baked Rye Bread" or, if
preferred, form into loaves, place in bread pans and, when light, bake.

PERFECT BREAKFAST ROLLS
One quart of scalded milk, when lukewarm, add the following: ½ cup of
butter and lard (mixed), 1 egg, 1 tablespoonful of sugar, 1 teaspoonful of
salt and 1 Fleischman's yeast cake; add flour to form a thick batter; beat all
thoroughly. Mix the above at 9.30 P.M., stand in a warm place, closely-
covered, over night. The following morning add more flour; dough should
not be mixed quite as stiff as for bread. Allow it to raise in a warm place.
When well-risen, place on bread board, roll, cut into small biscuits; dip each
biscuit in melted butter, fold together, place in pans a distance apart, and
when they have doubled in size, bake in a hot oven.

"AN OLD RECIPE" FOR GOOD BREAD
This country cook invariably baked good bread and always used potato-
water in preference to any other liquid for setting sponge. She stood aside
water, in which potatoes had been boiled for dinner (usually about one quart
or less) and added two finely-mashed potatoes. About 3 or 4 o'clock in the
afternoon of the day before that on which she intended baking bread, she

dissolved one cake of yeast (she used the small cornmeal commercial yeast
cakes, sold under different names, such as National, Magic, etc.) in a half-
cup of luke-warm water, added ½ teaspoon of salt and sufficient warmed,
well-dried flour to make a thin batter. She placed all in a bowl and stood it
in a warm place, closely-covered, until about 9 o'clock in the evening, when
she added this sponge, which should be light and foamy, to the potato water,
which should be lukewarm. She also added 1 tablespoon of salt and enough
flour to make a rather thick batter. Heat thoroughly and allow this sponge to
stand, well-covered, in a warm place until morning, when add 1 tablespoon
sugar, 1 tablespoon butter or lard and warmed flour enough to make a stiff
dough. Turn out on the bread board and knead for about twenty minutes,
until the dough does not stick to the hands. Place stiffened dough into howl;
allow it to rise until bulk is doubled. Mold into loaves, adding as little extra
flour as possible. Cut several gashes on top of loaves, brush with melted
butter, place in bread pans, and when loaves have doubled in bulk, place in
moderately hot oven and bake about one hour.

STEAMED BROWN BREAD
Place in a bowl ¾ cup graham flour and ½ cup of yellow, granulated
cornmeal. Sift into this ¾ cup of white flour, 1 teaspoonful of baking
powder and ½ teaspoonful of salt. Mix all ingredients together to form a
batter by adding 1 cup of sour milk, in which has been dissolved ¾
teaspoonful of soda. Then add 2 tablespoonfuls of molasses. Pour into a
well-greased quart can (the tin cans in which coffee is frequently sold will
answer nicely), cover closely, place in a kettle of boiling water, steam about
three hours; stand in oven a short time after being steamed. Cut in slices and
serve as bread, or, by the addition of raisins or currants, and a little grated
nutmeg or other flavoring, a very appetizing and wholesome pudding may
be served hot, with sugar and cream or any pudding sauce preferred.

A WHOLESOME BREAD (MADE FROM BRAN)

Place in a bowl 4 cups of clean bran and 2 cups of white flour, sifted with
2 teaspoonfuls of baking powder, 1 teaspoonful of salt, 1 tablespoonful of
melted butter. Mix into a soft batter with 2 cups of sweet milk; add ½ cup of
molasses. Fill two layer cake pans and bake in a hot oven about 25 minutes.
This is so easily and quickly made. The young housewife may mix, when
commencing to prepare lunch, and when the meal is ready to serve the
bread will be baked, and it is an excellent laxative.

FRAU SCHMIDT'S "HUTZEL BROD"

1 quart dried pears.
1 pint of pear juice.
1 Fleischman's yeast cake.
1 scant cup brown sugar.
2 eggs.
¼ teaspoonful soda.
1 pound of soaked raisins.
¾ cup of a mixture of lard and butter.
1 teaspoonful of fennel seed.
Pinch of salt.
2 teaspoonfuls of ground cinnamon.
Flour to stiffen, as for ordinary bread.

Cover one quart of dried pears with cold water and cook slowly about 20
minutes until they have cooked tender, but not soft (the night before the day
on which the bread is to be baked).
Then drain the juice from stewed pears, which should measure 1 pint;
when lukewarm, add 1 yeast cake, dissolved in a small quantity of
lukewarm water, and about 3 cups of flour and a pinch of salt. Stand,
closely-covered, in a warm place over night to raise.
The following morning, add ¼ teaspoonful of baking soda, dissolved in a
little warm water, to counteract any acidity of batter. Cream together sugar,
butter and lard, add eggs one at a time, men the well-floured, diced pears,
also raisins, cinnamon and fennel seed, and enough flour to stiffen as for

ordinary bread. Knead well, let rise; it will require some time, as the fruit
retards the raising process. When light, turn onto a bake-board, cut into four
portions, mold into four shapely loaves, place in pans, brush with melted
butter and when quite light, place in a moderate oven and bake one hour.
This bread will keep well several weeks, if kept in a tin cake box.
This recipe is much simpler than Aunt Sarah's recipe for making "Hutzel
Brod," but bread made from this recipe is excellent.

"AUNT SARAH'S" QUICKLY-MADE BROWN BREAD

2 cups of buttermilk, or thick, sour milk.
½ cup of sugar.
¼ cup of molasses.
1 tablespoonful of melted butter.
1 egg.
1 teaspoonful of soda.
¾ teaspoonful of salt.
3½ cups of graham flour.
½ cup of white flour, sifted with ¾ teaspoonful of baking powder.

The egg was placed in a bowl, and not beaten separately; sugar and butter
were creamed together, before being added; then mix in salt and molasses,
and gradually add buttermilk, in which the soda had been dissolved; then
add white and graham flour, ¾ cups of raisins may be added, if liked. Bake
in a bread pan in a moderately hot oven.

"STIRRED" OATMEAL BREAD
Early in the morning 1 cup of oatmeal porridge, left over from that which
had been cooked for breakfast, was placed in a bowl and added gradually 2
cups of scalded, luke-warm milk, 1 tablespoon of a mixture of lard and
butter, ¼ cup New Orleans molasses and one Fleischman's yeast cake,

dissolved in a little of the milk; stir in about 3 cups of bread flour and stand
in a warm place about 1¼ hours to rise; then add 3½ cups more of bread
flour and 1 teaspoonful of salt. Stir well with a spoon, and pour into three
small bread tins; let rise, when well-risen, bake about ¾ of an hour in a
moderately hot oven. This is a delicious and wholesome bread and no
kneading is necessary. 1½ cups of the cooked oatmeal might be used, then
use less white bread flour when mixing.

NUT AND RAISIN BREAD

2 cups buttermilk, or sour milk.
½ cup brown sugar,
2 cups graham flour.
1 cup wheat flour.
1 teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in a little of the milk.
1 teaspoonful of baking powder, sifted with the wheat flour.

Mix all together, add one cup of seeded raisins, ¼ cup of ground peanuts
and ¼ cup chopped walnut meats. Bake in an ordinary bread pan.

"SAFFRON" RAISIN BREAD
For this old-fashioned, "country" bread, set a sponge in the evening,
consisting of 1 cup of luke-warm water, 1 Fleischman's compressed yeast
cake and 2 tablespoonfuls of saffron water, obtained by steeping ½
tablespoonful of dried saffron flowers in a small quantity of boiling water a
short time. Use about 2 cups of flour to stiffen the sponge. Cover bowl
containing sponge and stand in a warm place until morning, when add the
following: ¾ cup of soft A sugar, ¼ cup lard and ⅛ cup of butter (beaten to
a cream); then add one egg. Beat again and add this mixture to the well-
risen sponge. Add also ¾ cup of seeded raisins and about 1¾ cups of flour.

The dough should be almost as stiff as ordinary bread dough. Set to rise
about one hour. Then divide the dough and mold into two shapely loaves.
Place in oblong bread pans. Let rise about 1½ hours. Brush melted butter
over top of loaves and bake in a moderately hot oven, as one would bake
ordinary bread.
This bread is a rich, golden yellow, with a distinctive, rather bitter, saffron
flavor, well-liked by some people; saffron is not unwholesome.
"Speaking of saffron bread," said John Landis, to his niece, Mary, "I am
reminded of the lines I was taught when quite a small boy:"

"Wer will gute kuchen haben, der muss sieben sachen haben;
Eier, butter un schmalz, milch, zucker un mehl;
Un saffron mach die kuchen gehl."

"Of course, Mary, you do not understand what that means. I will translate
it for you. 'Who would have good cakes, he must have seven things—eggs,
butter and lard, milk, sugar and flour, and saffron makes the cakes yellow.'"

RAISED ROLLS

2 quarts of sifted flour.
1 pint of boiled milk (lukewarm).
1 tablespoon sugar.
½ cup butter and lard, mixed.
¾ cake compressed yeast, or ¾ cup yeast.
1 teaspoon salt.

At 5 o'clock P.M. set sponge with half or three-fourths of the flour and all
the other ingredients.
About 9 o'clock in the evening, knead well, adding the balance of the
flour. Cover and let stand in a warm place until morning. In the morning,
roll out about ¾ of an inch thick, cut into small rolls, place in baking pans
far enough apart so they will not touch, and when raised quite light, bake.

Or, take the same ingredients as above (with one exception; take one
whole cake of compressed yeast), dissolved in half a cup of luke-warm
water, and flour enough to make a thin batter. Do this at 8.30 in the morning
and let rise until 1 o'clock; then knead enough flour in to make a soft dough,
as soft as can be handled. Stand in a warm place until 4.30, roll out quite
thin; cut with small, round cake-cutter and fold over like a pocketbook,
putting a small piece of butter the size of a pea between the folds; set in a
warm place until 5.30, or until very light; then bake a delicate brown in a
hot oven. If made quite small, 70 rolls may be made from this dough.
To cause rolls of any kind to have a rich, brown glaze, when baked, before
placing the pan containing them in the oven, brush over the top of each roll
the following mixture, composed of—yolk of 1 egg, 1 tablespoon of milk,
and 1 teaspoon of sugar.

"GRANDMOTHER'S" FINE RAISED BISCUITS

1 quart scalded milk (lukewarm).
¾ cup of butter, or a mixture of butter and lard.
½ cup of sugar.
1 teaspoonful of salt.
2 Fleischman's yeast cakes.
Whites of 2 eggs.
Flour.

Quite early in the morning dissolve the two yeast cakes in a little of the
milk; add these, with one-half the quantity of sugar and salt in the recipe, to
the remainder of the quart of milk; add also 4 cups of flour to form the yeast
foam. Beat well and stand in a warm place, closely-covered, one hour, until
light and foamy.
Beat the sugar remaining and the butter to a cream; add to the yeast foam
about 7 to 8 cups of flour, and the stiffly-beaten whites of the two eggs.
Turn out on a well-floured bread board and knead about five minutes.
Place in a bowl and let rise again (about one hour or longer) until double in

bulk, when roll out about one inch in thickness. Cut small biscuits with a ½
pound Royal Baking Powder can.
Brush tops of biscuits with a mixture consisting of yolk of one egg, a
teaspoonful of sugar and a little milk; this causes the biscuits to have a rich
brown crust when baked.
Place biscuits on pans a short distance apart, let rise until doubled in bulk;
bake in a rather quick oven.
From this recipe was usually made 55 biscuits. One-half of this recipe
would be sufficient for a small family.
Mary's Aunt taught her the possibilities of what she called a "Dutch"
sponge—prepared from one Fleischman's yeast cake. And the variety a
capable housewife may give her family, with the expenditure of a small
amount of time and thought.
About 9 o'clock in the evening Mary's Aunt placed in a bowl 2 cups of
potato water (drained from potatoes boiled for dinner). In this she dissolved
one Fleischman's yeast cake, stirred into this about 3 cups of well-warmed
flour, beat thoroughly for about ten minutes. Allowed this to stand closely
covered in a warm place over night. On the following morning she added to
the foamy sponge 1½ cups lukewarm, scalded milk, in which had been
dissolved 1 tablespoonful of a mixture of butter and lard, 2 generous
tablespoonfuls of sugar and 1 teaspoonful of salt. About 6¼ cups of well-
dried and warmed flour; she stirred in a part of the flour, then added the
balance. Kneaded well a short time, then set to raise closely covered in a
warm place 2½ to 3 hours.
When dough was light it was kneaded down in bowl and allowed to stand
about one hour, and when well risen she placed 2 cups of light bread sponge
in a bowl, and stood aside in warm place; this later formed the basis of a
"Farmers' Pound Cake," the recipe for which may be found among recipes
for "Raised Cakes."
From the balance of dough, or sponge, after being cut into 3 portions, she
molded from the one portion 12 small turn-over rolls, which were brushed
with melted butter, folded together and placed on tins a distance apart and
when very light baked in a quick oven.

From another portion of the sponge was made a twist or braided loaf.
And to the remaining portion of dough was added ½ cup of currants or
raisins, and this was called a "Currant" or "Raisin Loaf," which she served
for dinner the following day.
The rolls were placed in the oven of the range a few minutes before
breakfast and served hot, broken apart and eaten with maple syrup or honey
and the delicious "Farmers' Pound Cake" was served for supper.
Aunt Sarah baked these on ironing day. The kitchen being unusually
warm, as a result of the extra heat required in the range for heating flatirons,
caused the dough to rise more quickly than otherwise would have been the
case.

STIRRED BREAD
Frau Schmidt thought bread more easily digested and wholesome if
ingredients of a loaf be stirred together instead of kneaded. This is the
method she taught Mary. She poured into a bowl 3 cups of luke-warm
water, added 1 cake of Fleischman's yeast, dissolved in a little of the water;
sifted in gradually about 8½ cups of flour, added 1 tablespoonful of sugar,
½ teaspoonful of salt, mixed all well together with a spoon until a stiff
dough was formed, which she molded into two shapely loaves, handling as
little as possible; placed in bread pans, allowed to stand several hours to
raise, and when light baked. Mary said, "This bread may be more
wholesome than old-fashioned bread, which has been kneaded, but I prefer
Aunt Sarah's bread, well-kneaded, fine-grained and sweet," but, she
continued, "I will make an exception in favor of Aunt Sarah's 'Stirred
Oatmeal' bread, which, I think, fine."

POTATO BISCUITS

At 6 o'clock in the morning place in a bowl 1 cup of finely-mashed
(boiled) potatoes (the cup of left-over mashed potatoes may be used as a
matter of economy). Add 1 cup of potato water (the water drained from
boiled potatoes), in which ½ cake of Fleischman's yeast had been dissolved,
add 1 cup of flour and 1 teaspoon of sugar. Stand in a warm place to raise,
from 1 to 1¼ hours. At the expiration of that time add to the foamy sponge
1 large tablespoonful of butter or lard, 1 egg and ½ teaspoonful of salt,
beaten together before adding. Add about 2 cups of flour, beat thoroughly
and allow to raise another hour; then roll out the dough about 1 inch in
thickness and cut into small biscuits, dip each one in melted butter and
place on pans, a short distance apart, stand about one hour to raise, when
bake in a rather hot oven. These Potato Biscuits are particularly nice when
freshly baked, and resemble somewhat biscuits made from baking powder.
From this recipe was made two dozen biscuits.

AUNT SARAH'S POTATO YEAST

9 medium-sized potatoes.
5 tablespoons sugar.
2 tablespoons salt.
1 quart water.

Grate the raw potatoes quickly, so they will not discolor, pour over the
grated potato the quart of boiling water, add salt and sugar, cook several
minutes until the consistency of boiled starch, let cool, and when lukewarm
add 1 cup of good yeast. Stir all together in a crock, cover and let stand in a
warm place three or four hours, when it is foamy and rises to top of crock,
stir down several times, then fill glass fruit jars, cover and stand away in a
cool place until needed.
This yeast will keep about ten days. Use one cup to about three pounds of
flour, or one quart of liquid, when setting sponge for bread. Save one cup of
this yeast to start fresh yeast with.

PERFECTION POTATO CAKES

1 cup of boiled mashed potatoes.
1 cup sweet milk.
1 cup water in which 1 Fleischman yeast cake was dissolved.
2 cups soft A sugar.
½ cup butter and lard mixed.
2 eggs.
A little salt.
About 7 cups of flour.

Cream the sugar, butter and eggs together. Add mashed potatoes, milk and
cup of water containing yeast, alternately with the flour, until about 7 cups
of flour have been used, making a dough as stiff as can be stirred with a
spoon. Stand, covered, in a warm place by the range until morning. These
should be set to rise about nine o'clock in the evening. The following
morning take pieces of the dough, on a well-floured bake board; roll about
one inch thick, to fit in pie tins, place in pie tins to raise; when doubled in
bulk spread with melted butter and sprinkle sugar thickly over top and bake
in a moderately hot oven until lightly browned on top. This quantity of
dough makes six cakes.
Instead of brushing the cakes with above mixture, place in a bowl ½ cup
of soft A sugar, ½ cup flour, a tiny pinch of salt and baking powder each
and 2 tablespoonfuls of butter (not melted), mix all together as crumbly as
possible, then the crumbs were sprinkled thickly over tops of cakes, which
had been brushed with a mixture of milk and sugar. Place cakes in oven
when raised; bake 20 minutes.
This recipe was given Mary by an old "Bucks County" cook, noted for the
excellence of her raised cakes.

MARY'S RECIPE FOR CINNAMON BUNS
Early in the morning mix a sponge or batter consisting of ½ cup of potato
water (water drained from boiled potatoes) and ½ cup of lukewarm, scalded

milk, one Fleischman's compressed yeast cake, dissolved in the ½ cup of
lukewarm potato water, 1 teaspoonful sugar, pinch of salt and about 1½
cupfuls of warmed flour. Stand this sponge in a warm place, closely
covered, about ¾ of an hour, to raise. At the end of that time add to the
light, well-risen sponge, the following: 3 tablespoonfuls of a mixture of lard
and butter, and ⅓ cup of soft A sugar, creamed together. Add one large egg.
Beat well. Lastly, add about 2 cupfuls of flour. Mix all together thoroughly,
and let raise again about 1½ hours. Divide the well-risen sponge into four
portions. Roll each piece with rolling-pin into lengthwise pieces about ½
inch thick and spread with one tablespoonful of melted butter, scant 2
tablespoonfuls of brown sugar, dust over this a small quantity of cinnamon,
and 1 tablespoonful of dried currants. Shape into a long, narrow roll with
the hands, on a well-floured bake-board. Cut each roll into five pieces.
Pinch one end of each piece together and place each bun, cut side down, a
short distance apart, in an iron pan which has been well greased, having
brushed a little melted butter and a sprinkling of sugar over pan. Allow
these to rise in a warm place as before, about 1½ hours, until quite light, as
having the extra sugar, butter and currants added retards their rising as
quickly as would plain biscuits.
Bake 20 to 25 minutes in a moderate oven.
From this quantity of material was made 20 cinnamon buns.

"KLEINA KAFFE KUCHEN" (LITTLE COFFEE CAKES)

Scant ½ cup lard and butter.
2 cups sifted flour.
2 whole eggs and the yolks of 2 more.
3 tablespoons sugar.
¼ cup cream.
¼ milk.
1 Fleischman's yeast cake.
⅛ teaspoon salt.

The yeast cake was dissolved in the ¼ cup lukewarm milk, a couple
tablespoons of flour were added and mixed into a batter, and stood in a
warm place to rise. The butter and sugar were stirred to a cream, salt was
added, the eggs were beaten in, one at a time, next was added the sponge
containing the yeast, the lukewarm cream, and the sifted flour. Grease
slightly warmed Gem pans, sift a little flour over them, fill two-thirds full
with the soft dough, set in a warm place to rise to tops of pans, and when
quite light bake in a medium hot oven about 25 minutes. The oven should
be hot enough to allow them to rise quickly. Put something underneath the
pans in the oven to prevent bottom of cakes from burning. These may be set
about 8 o'clock in the morning if cakes are wished for lunch at noon. These
are not cheap, as this quantity makes only 12 cakes, but they are light as
puffballs. The Professor's wife served them when she gave a "Kaffee
Klatch." She doubled the recipe, baked the cakes in the morning, and placed
them in the oven to heat through before serving. The cakes should be
broken apart, not cut. The cakes made from this recipe are particularly fine.

GROSSMUTTER'S POTATO CAKES

1 cup hot mashed potatoes.
1½ cups sugar.
1 scant cup butter and lard.
1 cup home-made yeast or 1 yeast cake dissolved in 1 cup
lukewarm water.
3 eggs.
Flour.

At 5 o'clock in the afternoon set to rise the following: One cup of sugar
and one cup of hot mashed potatoes; when lukewarm add one cup of flour
and one cup of yeast; beat all together, stand in a warm place to rise and at 9
o'clock in the evening cream together 1 cup of a mixture of lard and butter,
1 cup of sugar, 3 eggs and pinch of salt; add the sponge and beat well. Stir
as stiff as you can stir it with a large spoon, cover, set in a warm place to
rise until morning, when roll out some of the dough into cakes about one
inch thick, put in pie tins to rise, and when light, make half a dozen deep

impressions on top of each cake with the forefinger, spread with melted
butter and strew light-brown sugar thickly over top, or mix together 1 cup
sugar, butter size of an egg, 2 tablespoons flour, 2 tablespoons boiling
water, beat well and spread the mixture on cakes just before placing in
oven. Bake the cakes about 20 minutes in a moderate oven. This is a very
old recipe used by Aunt Sarah's grandmother, and similar to the well-known
German cakes called "Schwing Felders."

AUNT SARAH'S "BREAD DOUGH" CAKE

1 cup bread dough.
1 egg.
½ cup soft A sugar.
1 tablespoon lard or butter.
¼ teaspoon soda.

When her bread dough was raised and ready to put in the pans she placed
a cupful of it in a bowl and added the egg, sugar, butter, soda (dissolved in a
little hot water); some dried raisins or currants, and just enough flour so it
might be handled easily. Put in a small agate pan four inches deep, let rise
until light, dust pulverized sugar over top and bake about 25 or 30 minutes
in a moderate oven.
Double the materials called for, using 2 cups of well-risen bread dough or
sponge, and you will have a good-sized cake.

GOOD, CHEAP DUTCH CAKES
To a bowl containing 1 cup of scalded milk, add 1 tablespoonful of lard
and 1 cup of sugar. When lukewarm add 1 yeast cake (Fleischman's),
dissolved in 1 cup of lukewarm water, and about 5 cups of good flour. Set
to rise at night about nine o'clock, the next morning roll out pieces about
one and a half inches thick, to fit in medium-sized pie tins. Set in a warm

place to rise. When light, brush top with melted butter and strew sugar
thickly over and bake from 15 to 20 minutes in a moderately hot oven.
These cakes are inexpensive and good; no eggs or butter being used.

RECIPE FOR "LIGHT CAKES" (GIVEN MARY BY A FARMER'S
WIFE)
In the evening mix a sponge consisting of ½ cup of mashed potatoes, ½
cup sugar, 1 cup of yeast or 1 cake of Fleischman's yeast dissolved in a cup
of lukewarm water; ½ cup of a mixture of butter and lard and a pinch of salt
and flour to thicken until batter is quite thick. Stand in a warm place,
closely covered, until morning, when add 2 eggs and ½ cup of sugar and
flour to stiffen as thick as sponge can be stirred with a spoon. Set to rise;
when light roll out one inch thick, place in pie tins, brush tops with melted
butter and brown sugar, set to rise, and, when well risen, bake.

BUTTER "SCHIMMEL"
Place in a mixing bowl 2 cups of warm, mashed potatoes and add ¾ of a
cup of shortening (a mixture of lard and butter), (or use Aunt Sarah's
substitute for butter); one cup of A sugar and 1 teaspoonful salt.
Beat all to a cream. When lukewarm, add 2 eggs and either 1 yeast cake
dissolved in 1 cup of lukewarm water, or 1 cup of potato yeast; use about 2
cups of flour to make a thin batter. Set to raise over night or early in the
morning. When well risen add about 4 cups of flour. Make about as stiff a
dough as can be stirred well with a mixing spoon. Place soft dough on a
bake-board; roll out into a sheet about one-half inch thick; cut into squares
about the size of a common soda cracker; bring each of the four corners
together in the centre like an envelope; pinch together; place a small piece
of butter (about one-eighth teaspoonful) on the top where the four corners
join. Stand in a warm place to rise. When well risen and light place in the
oven. When baked, take from oven, and while hot dip all sides in melted

butter and dust granulated or pulverized sugar over top. These are not as
much trouble to prepare as one would suppose from the directions for
making. The same dough may be cut in doughnuts with a tin cutter and
fried in hot fat after raising, or the dough may be molded into small, round
biscuits if preferred, and baked in oven.

"BUCKS COUNTY" DOUGHNUTS
About nine o'clock in the evening a batter was mixed composed of the
following:

1 cup milk.
1 cup hot water.
1 teaspoonful of sugar.
1 cup yeast (or one cake of Fleischman's yeast dissolved in
one cup of lukewarm water).
1 pinch of salt.
3½ cups of flour.

Stand in a warm place until morning. Then add ½ cup of butter and 1½
cups of soft A sugar, creamed together, and from 3 to 4 cups of flour. The
dough should be as stiff as can be stirred with a spoon. Set to rise in a warm
place; when light and spongy, roll out on a well-floured bake-board and cut
into round cakes with a hole in the centre. Let rise again, and when well
risen fry a golden brown in deep fat and sift over pulverized sugar. This
recipe will make 45 doughnuts. These are good and economical, as no eggs
are used in this recipe.

EXTRA FINE "QUAKER BONNET" BISCUITS
For these quaint-looking, delicious biscuits, a sponge was prepared
consisting of:

1 pint milk.
3 eggs.
½ cup mixture butter and lard.
1 yeast cake (Fleischman's).
About 7 cups flour.

Set to rise early in the morning. When well risen (in about 3 hours), roll
dough into a sheet about ¼ inch in thickness, cut with a half-pound baking
powder can into small, round biscuits, brush top of each one with melted
butter (use a new, clean paint brush for this purpose), place another biscuit
on top of each one of these, and when raised very light and ready for oven
brush top of each biscuit with a mixture consisting of half of one yolk of
egg (which had been reserved from the ones used in baking), mixed with a
little milk. Biscuits should have been placed on a baking sheet some
distance apart, let rise about one hour until quite light, then placed in a
quick but not too hot an oven until baked a golden brown on top.
Mary gave these the name of "Quaker Bonnet" Biscuits, as the top biscuit
did not raise quite as much as the one underneath and greatly resembled the
crown of a Quaker bonnet.
From this quantity of dough was made three dozen biscuits. These are not
cheap, but extra fine.

BUCKS COUNTY CINNAMON "KUCHEN"
Explicit directions for the making of these excellent raised cakes was
given Mary by an old, experienced Pennsylvania German cook. They were
prepared from the following recipe: Early in the morning 1 pint of milk was
scalded. When lukewarm, add 3½ cups of flour and 1 cake of Fleischman's
compressed yeast (which had been dissolved in 1 tablespoonful of
lukewarm water). Beat the mixture well. Cover and stand in a warm place
to rise. When well risen, which should be in about 2 hours, add the
following mixture, composed of ¾ cup of sugar and ½ cup of butter,
creamed together; ½ teaspoonful of salt; 1 egg was beaten into the mixture,
and about 2 cups of flour were added, enough to make a dough as stiff as

can be stirred with a spoon. Dough should not be as stiff as for bread. Let
stand about 1 hour. When well risen and light, divide into four portions.
Roll out each piece of dough to thickness of one inch. Place cakes in
medium-sized pie tins and allow them to stand about one hour. When well
risen, doubled in bulk, make half dozen deep impressions on top of each
cake with the forefinger. Brush top of each cake with ½ tablespoonful of
melted butter. Sprinkle over 2 tablespoonfuls of soft A sugar and sift over a
little pulverized cinnamon, if liked, just before placing cakes in oven. Bake
cakes from 20 to 25 minutes in a moderately hot oven. From this dough
may be made four cakes.
Excellent biscuits may also be made from this same dough, by simply
moulding it into small biscuits and place in a pan some distance apart. Let
rise and brush tops of biscuits with a mixture composed of a part of an egg
yolk, a tablespoonful of milk and ½ teaspoonful sugar. This causes the
biscuits to have a rich, brown color when baked.
The sponge from which these cakes or biscuits were made was mixed and
set to rise at 6 o'clock in the morning, and the baking was finished at 11
o'clock. Sponge should be set to rise in a warm room. If these directions are
carefully followed the housewife will invariably have good results. Always
use hard Spring wheat for bread or biscuits, raised with yeast; and Winter
wheat, which costs less, will answer for making cake and pastry. In cold
weather always warm flour before baking, when yeast is used for baking
raised cakes. Soft A sugar or a very light brown is to be preferred to
granulated.

MORAVIAN SUGAR CAKES
At 5 o'clock P.M. set a sponge or batter, consisting of 1 cup of mashed
potatoes, 2 cups of sugar, 1 cup of sweet milk, scalded and cooled, ½ cake
of yeast, dissolved in 1 cup of lukewarm water, 2 eggs ¾ cup of a mixture
of lard and butter, add 3 cups of flour, beat well, stand in a warm place to
raise; at 9 o'clock add about 6 cups of flour. Stand until morning in a warm
place, near the range. The following morning turn out on a floured bake-
board, roll out cakes one inch thick, place in pie tins, when ready for the

oven; punch half a dozen small holes in the top of cakes, in which place
small bits of butter. Sprinkle sugar over liberally and cinnamon if liked.
Bake in a moderate oven.

MARY'S POTATO CAKES

1 cup freshly-boiled mashed potatoes.
1 cup scalded sweet milk.
1 cup sugar.
Flour about 6 cups.
1 cake Fleischman's yeast.
2 eggs.
½ cup butter and lard mixed.
½ cup potato water.

At 7 o'clock in the morning Mary mixed a sponge consisting of a cup of
mashed potatoes, 1 cup scalded milk, ½ cup sugar, 1½ cups of flour and the
cake of Fleischman's yeast, dissolved in half a cup of lukewarm potato
water. This was set to rise in a warm place near the range for several hours
until light. Then she creamed together ½ cup of sugar, 2 eggs and ½ cup of
butter and lard, or use instead the "Substitute for Butter." Added the
creamed sugar, butter and eggs to the well-risen sponge and about 4½ cups
of flour. Sift a couple of tablespoons of flour over top of sponge, and set to
rise again about 1½ hours. When light, take cut pieces of the sponge on a
well-floured bread-board, knead for a minute or two, then roll out with a
rolling-pin inlo pieces about one inch thick, place in well-greased small pie
tins, over which a dust of flour has been sifted, set to rise about 1½ hours.
When light and ready for oven brush top with milk, strew crumbs over or
brush with melted butter and strew sugar over top; after punching half
dozen holes in top of each cake, bake in a moderately hot oven from 20 to
25 minutes until a rich brown, when cakes should be baked. Five potato
cakes may be made from this sponge, or four cakes and one pan of biscuits
if preferred. Use soft "A" sugar rather than granulated for these cakes, and
old potatoes are superior to new. Or when these same cakes were raised,
ready to be placed in the oven, Mary frequently brushed the tops of cakes

with melted butter, strewing over the following: 1 cup of flour mixed with
½ cup of sugar and yolk of 1 egg, and a few drops of vanilla. This mixture
rubbed through a coarse sieve and scattered over cakes Mary called
"Streusel Kuchen."

GERMAN RAISIN CAKE (RAISED WITH YEAST)
Place in a bowl 1 cup of milk, scalded and cooled until lukewarm; add 1
tablespoonful of sugar and dissolve one cake of yeast in the milk. Mix in 1
cup of flour and stand in a warm place to raise ¾ of an hour. Then cream
together in a separate bowl ½ cup soft "A" sugar, ½ cup of butter or "butter
substitute," add 1 egg and a pinch of salt; stir in 1¼ cups of flour, ½ cup of
well-floured raisins, and ½ teaspoonful of vanilla flavoring. Add the yeast
mixture and allow it to raise about 2 hours longer. At the expiration of that
time turn the well-risen sponge out on a floured bake-board. After giving
the dough several deft turns on the board with the hand, place in a well-
greased fruit cake pan, which has been dusted with flour. Stand pan
containing cake in a warm place, let rise until very light, probably 1¼
hours, when brush the top of cake with a small quantity of a mixture of milk
and sugar. Sift pulverized sugar thickly over top. Place the cake in a
moderately hot oven, so the cake may finish rising before commencing to
brown on the top. Bake about 35 minutes.

"KAFFEE KRANTZ" (COFFEE WREATH)

1 cup sugar.
¾ cup butter and lard.
4 eggs.
1 pint milk.
1 Fleischman's yeast cake.
4 cups flour.

Cream together the sugar, butter, lard and eggs, add the milk, which has
been scalded and allowed to cool; flour, and yeast cake, dissolved in a half
cup of lukewarm water; beat well. Set this sponge to rise in a warm place,
near the range, as early as possible in the morning. This will take about 1½
hours to rise. When the sponge is light add about 3 cups more of flour. The
dough, when stiff as can be stirred with a spoon, will be right. Take about 2
cups of this sponge out on a well-floured bake-board, divide in three pieces,
and braid and form into a wreath or "Krantz," or they may be made out into
flat cakes and baked in pie tins after they have been raised and are light.
Sprinkle sugar thickly over top after brushing with milk containing a little
sugar, before placing in oven. These should rise in about 1½ hours. Place in
a moderately hot oven and bake from 20 to 25 minutes. This recipe Frau
Schmidt translated from the German language for Mary's especial benefit.
This coffee wreath is particularly fine if small pieces of crushed rock
candy be sprinkled liberally over the top and blanched almonds stuck a
couple of inches apart over the top just before placing the cake in the oven,
after the cakes had been brushed with a mixture of milk and sugar.

"MONDEL KRANTZ" OR ALMOND CAKE (AS MADE BY FRAU
SCHMIDT)

1 pint sweet milk.
¾ cup sugar.
3 eggs.
1 yeast cake or 1 cup yeast.
⅓ cup butter.
2 tablespoons rock candy.
1 orange.
2 tablespoons chopped almonds.
Flour.

Set to rise early in the morning. To the scalded milk, when lukewarm, add
the yeast and flour enough to make a batter, cover, set to rise until light,
near the range, which will take several hours. Then add the sugar, butter and

eggs beaten to a cream, grated rind and juice of orange, a couple
tablespoons finely-chopped almonds, and add enough flour to make a soft
dough, as stiff as can be stirred with a spoon; set to rise again, and when
light, divide the dough in two portions, from which you form two wreaths.
Roll half the dough in three long strips on the floured bake-board with the
hands, then braid them together. Place a large coffee cup or bowl inverted
on the centre of a large, round or oval, well-greased pan, lay the wreath
around the bowl. The bowl in the centre of the pan prevents the dough from
running together and forming a cake. Brush the top of the wreath with a
little milk, containing teaspoon of sugar, over the top of the wreath, stick
blanched, well-dried almonds, and strew thickly with crushed rock candy or
very coarse sugar.
Let rise until light, then bake. This makes two quite large wreaths.
The Professor's wife told Mary when she gave her this recipe, this almond
wreath was always served at the breakfast table on Christmas morning at
the home of her parents in Germany, and was always baked by her mother,
who gave her this recipe, and it was found on the breakfast table of Frau
Schmidt Christmas morning as regularly as was made "Fast Nacht Kuchen"
by Aunt Sarah every year on "Shrove Tuesday," the day before the
beginning of the Lenten season.

THE PROFESSOR'S WIFE'S RECIPE FOR "DUTCH CAKES"

2 tablespoons of butter or lard.
2 eggs.
1 cup "Soft A" sugar.
½ yeast cake.
1 pint milk.
½ teaspoonful of salt.
Flour.

She scalded the milk, added butter and eggs, well beaten, when the milk
was lukewarm, then added yeast, dissolved in a little lukewarm water,
sugar, salt and flour to make a thin batter. Beat all together five minutes,

stood the batter, closely covered, in a warm place, over night. In the
morning, added flour to make a soft dough, kneaded lightly for ten minutes,
placed in bowl and set to rise again. When light, she rolled out dough one
inch in thickness, placed in pie tins, and when raised a second time spread
over the cakes the following mixture before placing in oven: 1 cup sugar, 2
tablespoonfuls of flour, 2 tablespoonfuls of boiling water and butter size of
an egg, beaten well together. Bake 20 minutes.

"FARMERS' POUND CAKE" (AS AUNT SARAH CALLED THIS)

Place in a bowl 2 cups of light, well-raised bread sponge (when all flour
necessary had been added and loaves were shaped ready to be placed in
bread pan for final rising). Cream together ¾ cup of a mixture of lard and
butter, add 2 eggs, first yolks then stiffly beaten whites, also add 1½ cups
soft A sugar. Add to the 2 cups of bread sponge in bowl and beat well until
fully incorporated with the dough, then add ½ cup of lukewarm milk, in
which had been dissolved ½ teaspoonful of salaratus.
Beat all together until mixture is smooth and creamy, then add 2 cups of
bread flour and ½ teaspoon of lemon flavoring. Beat well and add 1½ cups
of either currants or raisins, dusted with flour. Pour mixture into an agate
pudding dish (one holding 3 quarts, about 2½ inches in depth and 30 inches
in circumference). Stand in a warm place 3 to 4 hours to raise; when raised
to top of pan place in a moderately hot oven and bake about 40 minutes,
when, taken from oven, dust with pulverized sugar thickly over top of cake.
This cake should be large as an old-fashioned fruit cake, will keep moist
some time in a tin cake box, but is best when freshly baked.

GERMAN "COFFEE BREAD"

⅓ cup sugar

⅓ cup butter
1 cup hot milk
1 yeast cake
2 eggs
2½ cups flour.

As Aunt Sarah taught Mary to bake this, it was fine. She creamed together
in a bowl the sugar and butter, poured the hot milk over this, and when
lukewarm, added the compressed yeast cake, dissolved in ¼ cup of
lukewarm water. She then added two small, well-beaten eggs, about 2½
cups flour, or enough to make a stiff batter, and ½ teaspoonful salt. Beat
thoroughly, cover and set to rise in a warm place about 1½ hours or until
doubled in bulk. This was set to rise quite early in the morning. When light,
beat thoroughly and with a spoon spread evenly on top of well-greased,
deep pie tins, which have been sprinkled with a little flour.
Spread the crumbs given below over the top of cakes, cover and let rise
15 minutes and bake a rich brown in moderate oven.
For the crumbs, mix together in a bowl 1 heaped cup of fine, soft, stale
bread crumbs, 2½ tablespoonfuls light brown sugar, ¾ of a teaspoonful
cinnamon, pinch of salt, ¼ cup of blanched and chopped almonds, and 2
tablespoonfuls of soft butter. This sponge or dough should be unusually soft
when mixed, as the crumbs sink into the dough and thicken it. Add only the
quantity of flour called for in recipe.

"FAST NACHT KUCHEN" (DOUGHNUTS)

3 tablespoons honey.
¾ quart milk.
2 quarts flour.
1 yeast cake.
½ cup butter.
2 eggs.

Without fail, every year on Shrove Tuesday, or "Fast Nacht," the day
before the beginning of Lent, these cakes were made. Quite early in the
morning, or the night before, the following sponge was set to rise: The
lukewarm, scalded milk, mixed into a smooth batter with 1 quart of flour;
add 1 Fleischman's yeast cake, dissolved in a very little water. Beat well
together, set in a warm place to rise over night, or several hours, and when
light, add the following, which has been creamed together: eggs, butter and
lard, a little flour and the honey. Beat well, and then add the balance of the
flour, reserving a small quantity to flour the board later. Set to rise again,
and when quite light roll out on a well-floured board, cut into circles with a
doughnut cutter, cut holes in the centre of cakes, let rise, and then fry in
deep fat; dust with pulverised sugar and cinnamon, if liked. These are
regular German doughnuts, and are never very sweet. If liked sweeter, a
little sugar may be added. From this batter Mary made 18 "fried cakes," or
"Fast Nacht Kuchen," as the Germans call them. She also made from the
same dough one dozen cinnamon buns and two Dutch cakes. The dough not
being very sweet, she sprinkled rivels composed of sugar, flour and butter,
generously over the top of the "Dutch cakes." The dough for doughnuts, or
fried cakes, should always have a little more flour added than dough for
"Dutch cakes" or buns; baked in the oven. If too soft, they will absorb fat
while frying.

""KAFFEE KUCHEN" (COFFEE CAKE)

2 cups milk.
1 heaped cup soft A sugar.
½ cup butter and lard.
1 egg.
1 Fleischman's yeast cake.
Flour.

These German Coffee Cakes should be set to rise either early in the
morning or the night before being baked. Scald 2 cups sweet milk and set
aside to cool. Cream together in a bowl 1 heaped cup of A sugar, ½ cup
butter and lard and the yolk of egg. Add this to the lukewarm milk

alternately with 6½ cups flour and the yeast cake dissolved in ⅓ cup
lukewarm water. Beat all together, and, lastly, add the stiffly-beaten white
of egg. Cover and set in a warm place to rise over night, or, if set to rise in
the morning, stand about 2½ hours until light. Put an extra cup of flour on
the bake-board, take out large spoonfuls of the dough, mix in just enough
flour to roll out into flat cakes, spread on well-greased pie tins, stand in a
warm place until light, about 1¼ hours. When the cakes are ready for the
oven, brush melted butter over the top, strew thickly with brown sugar, or
spread rivels over top, composed of ½ cup sugar, ½ cup flour and 2
tablespoonfuls of butter, crumbled together. Strew these over the cakes just
before placing them in the oven of range.

"STREUSEL KUCHEN"
For these German-raised cakes, take ½ cup mashed potatoes and ½ cup of
potato water, ½ cup lard and butter mixed, creamed with ½ cup sugar. Mix
with these ingredients about 3½ cups of flour and 1 cup of yeast. Set this
sponge to rise at night in a warm place, well covered. The next morning add
to the light, well-risen sponge, 2 eggs, ½ cup sugar and about 1½ cups flour.
Let stand in a warm place until light. Then roll out pieces size of a plate,
one inch thick; place on well-greased pie tins, let rise, and when light and
ready for the oven brush over tops with melted butter and strew over the
tops of cakes the following: Mix 1 cup of flour, ½ cup of sugar and yolk of
1 egg. Flavor with a few drops of vanilla (or use vanilla sugar, which is
made by placing several vanilla beans in a jar of sugar a short time, which
flavors sugar). Rub this mixture of flour, sugar and yolk of egg through a
coarse sieve and strew over tops of cakes.
Or, this same recipe may be used by taking, instead of 1 cup of yeast, one
Fleischman yeast cake, dissolved in 1 cup of lukewarm water. Instead of
sponge being set to rise the night before the day on which the cakes are to
be baked, the sponge might be set early in the morning of the same day on
which they are to be baked—exactly in the same manner as if sponge was
set the night before; when light, add eggs, sugar and balance of flour to
sponge, and proceed as before.

MUFFINS, BISCUITS, GRIDDLE CAKES AND WAFFLES
Use 1 scant cup of liquid to 1 good cup of flour, usually, for "Griddle
Cake" batter. Use baking powder with sweet milk, 1 heaping teaspoonful of
Royal baking powder is equivalent to 1 teaspoonful of cream of tartar and
½ teaspoonful of salaratus (baking soda) combined. Use either baking
powder or salaratus and cream of tartar combined, when using sweet milk.
Use 1 teaspoonful of baking soda to 1 pint of sour milk. Allow a larger
quantity of baking powder when no eggs are used. Have all materials cold
when using baking powder. When milk is only slightly sour, use a lesser
quantity of soda and a small quantity of baking powder.

SALLY LUNN (AS AUNT SARAH MADE IT)
As "Aunt Sarah" made this, it required 1 cup of sweet milk, 2 eggs, 1
tablespoonful of butter, 3 tablespoonfuls of sugar, flour to make a stiff
batter, about 2¾ cups (almost three cups) of flour sifted with 3 scant
teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Served immediately when taken from the
oven, this is an excellent substitute for bread for lunch.

AUNT SARAH'S RECIPE FOR "JOHNNY CAKE"
One and one half cups of sour milk, ⅓ cup of shortening, a mixture of lard
and butter, 1½ tablespoonfuls of sugar, 2 cups of yellow cornmeal, 1 cup of
white bread flour, 1 egg, 1 teaspoon of soda, dissolved in a little hot water, a
little salt. Mix all together, add the stiffly-beaten white of egg last. Pour
batter in an oblong bread tin, bake about 45 minutes in a quick oven.
Granulated corn meal was used for this cake.

MARY'S BREAKFAST MUFFINS

3 cups sifted flour.
1 teaspoon salt.
1 teaspoon sugar.
1 tablespoon butter and lard.
¼ cake Fleischman's yeast.
2 eggs.
2 cups boiled milk.

Place the flour, salt, sugar, butter, lard and yeast cake, dissolved in water,
in a bowl and mix well; then add the eggs and milk, which should be
lukewarm. Set to rise in a warm place over night. In the morning do not stir
at all, but carefully place tablespoonfuls of the light dough into warm, well-
greased Gem pans, let stand a short time, until quite light, then bake in a hot
oven 15 to 20 minutes and serve hot for breakfast. These should be light
and flakey if made according to directions.

RICE MUFFINS

1 cup cold boiled rice.
Yolk of egg and white beaten separately.
1 teaspoon sugar.
½ teaspoon salt.
1 cup sweet milk.
2 cups flour.
2 teaspoonfuls baking powder.

Put the rice, yolk of egg, sugar and salt in a bowl and beat together; then
add 1 teacup sweet milk alternately with the flour, in which has been sifted
the baking powder. Add the stiffly-beaten white of egg; bake in muffin pans
in hot oven. This makes about fifteen muffins.

INDIAN PONE
Beat together, in the following order, 2 eggs, 1 tablespoonful of white
sugar, 1½ cups of sweet milk, 1 teaspoonful of salt; to which add 1 cup of
granulated yellow corn meal and 2 cups of white flour, sifted, with 3 scant
teaspoonfuls of Royal baking powder. Lastly, add 1 tablespoonful of melted
(not hot) butter. Pour batter in bread pan and bake in a hot oven 25 to 30
minutes. Serve hot. Do not cut with a knife when serving, but break in
pieces. When the stock of bread is low this quickly-prepared corn bread or
"pone" is a very good substitute for bread, and was frequently baked by
Mary at the farm. Mary's Aunt taught her to make a very appetizing
pudding from the left-over pieces of corn bread, which, when crumbled,
filled 1 cup heaping full; over this was poured 2 cups of sweet milk; this
was allowed to stand until soft; when add 1 large egg (beaten separately), a
generous tablespoonful of sugar, a couple of tablespoonfuls of raisins, a
pinch of salt; mix well, pour into a small agate pudding pan, grate nutmeg
over the top, and bake in a moderate oven 1 hour or a less time. Serve with
sugar and cream.

"PFANNKUCHEN" (PANCAKES)
Four eggs, whites and yolks were beaten separately, 2 tablespoonfuls of
milk, were added; 1 teaspoonful of chopped parsley; mix lightly together,
add salt to season. Place 2 tablespoonfuls of butter in a fry pan. When butter
has melted, pour mixture carefully into pan. When cooked, sprinkle over a
small quantity of finely minced parsley. Roll like a "jelly roll." Place on a
hot platter and serve at once, cut in slices.

"EXTRA FINE" BAKING POWDER BISCUITS
One quart of flour was measured; after being sifted, was placed in a flour
sifter, with 4 heaping teaspoonfuls of Royal baking powder and 1
teaspoonful of salt. Sift flour and baking powder into a bowl, cut through

this mixture 1 tablespoonful of butter and lard each, and mix into a soft
dough, with about 1 cup of sweet milk. 1 egg should have been added to the
milk before mixing it with the flour. Reserve a small quantity of the yolk of
egg, and thin with a little milk. Brush this over the top of biscuits before
baking.
Turn the biscuit dough onto a floured bake-board. Pat out about one inch
thick. Cut into rounds with small tin cake cutter. Place a small bit of butter
on each biscuit and fold together. Place a short distance apart on baking tins
and bake in a quick oven.

"FLANNEL" CAKES, MADE FROM SOUR MILK
One pint of sour milk, 2 eggs (beaten separately), a little salt, 1 large
teaspoon of melted butter, 1 teaspoonful of molasses, 1 good teaspoon of
soda, sifted with enough flour to make a smooth batter. Beat hard and then
add the 2 yolks and the stiffly-beaten whites of eggs. Bake small cakes on a
hot, well-greased griddle. Serve with honey or maple syrup.

"FLANNEL" CAKES WITH BAKING POWDER
Sift together in a bowl 1 pint of flour, 1 teaspoon of salt, 2 teaspoons of
Royal baking powder, mixed to a smooth batter, with about 1 pint of sweet
milk. Add two yolks of eggs, 1 tablespoon of melted butter. Lastly, add the
2 stiffly-beaten whites of eggs. 1 teaspoon of baking molasses added makes
them brown quickly. Bake on a hot griddle, well greased.

FRAU SCHMIDT'S RECIPE FOR WAFFLES
One pint of sour milk, 1 quart of sweet milk, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 tablespoon
butter, whites of three eggs and yolks of two and 1 teaspoon of baking soda,

and flour to make a rather thin batter. Beat the two yolks of the eggs until
light and creamy, then add ½ teaspoon of baking powder, little flour, then
the sour milk with soda dissolved in it, stirring all the time. Then add 1
tablespoon of melted or softened butter, then the sweet milk; beat well; and
lastly, add the stiffly-beaten whites of the three eggs. Bake in hot waffle
iron.

"CRUMB" CORN CAKES
One pint of stale bread crumbs (not fine, dried crumbs), covered with 1
pint of sour milk. Let stand over night. In the morning add 1 tablespoon of
butter, yolks of 2 eggs and a little salt, ½ teaspoon of salaratus (good
measure), ¾ cup of granulated corn meal, to which add a couple of
tablespoons of bread flour, enough to fill up the cup. Stir all well together,
add the 2 stiffly-beaten whites of eggs and drop with a tablespoon on a hot,
greased griddle. Make the cakes small, as they do not turn quite as easily as
do buckwheat cakes. This makes about two dozen cakes. These are good.

"GRANDMOTHER'S" RECIPE FOR BUTTERMILK WAFFLES
Mix to a smooth batter, 4 cups of sour buttermilk, 5 cups of flour, and add
1 tablespoon of melted butter, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 tablespoon of molasses.
Add the well-beaten yolks of 3 eggs, 1½ teaspoonfuls of baking soda,
dissolved in a little hot water. Lastly, add the stiffly-beaten whites of 3 eggs.
Place about 3 tablespoonfuls of the batter on hot, well-greased waffle irons.
If buttermilk cannot be procured, sour milk may be used with good results,
providing the milk is quite sour. From this quantity of batter may be made
twelve waffles. Serve with maple syrup or honey.

BREAD GRIDDLE CAKES

To 1 pint of sour milk add about 3 slices of stale bread and allow the
bread to soak in this mixture over night. In the morning beat up smoothly
with 1 egg yolk, 1 teaspoonful of soda, a pinch of salt and enough cornmeal
and white flour, in equal quantities, to make a moderately thin batter. Lastly,
add the stiffly-beaten white of egg, bake on a hot griddle. Cakes should be
small in size, as when baked cakes are less readily turned than other batter
cakes. These cakes are economical and good.

NEVER FAIL "FLANNEL" CAKES

2 cups thick sour milk (quite sour).
2 tablespoonfuls sweet milk.
1 egg.
½ teaspoonful salt.
2 cups flour.
1 teaspoonful baking soda (good measure).

Pour the milk in a bowl, add yolk of egg. Sift together flour, baking soda
and salt, four times. Beat all well together. Then add the stiffly-beaten white
of egg, and bake at once on a hot griddle, using about two tablespoonfuls of
the batter for a cake. Serve with butter and maple syrup or a substitute.
This recipe, given Mary by an old, reliable cook, was unfailing as to
results, if recipe be closely followed. The cakes should be three-fourths of
an inch thick, light as a feather, and inside, fine, like bread, not "doughy," as
cakes baked from richer batters frequently are.
From this recipe was made eighteen cakes.

WAFFLES MADE FROM SWEET MILK AND BAKING POWDER
Sift together 1 quart of flour, 2 teaspoonfuls of baking powder and ½
teaspoonful of salt. Mix into a batter, a little thicker than for griddle cakes,
with sweet milk; add yolks of 3 eggs, 3 tablespoonfuls of melted butter;

lastly, stir in lightly the 3 stiffly-beaten whites of eggs. Bake on a hot, well-
greased waffle iron and serve with maple syrup.

"BUCKS COUNTY" BUCKWHEAT CAKES
About 12 o'clock noon dissolve 1 cake of yeast (the small, round or
square cornmeal cakes) in 1 pint of lukewarm water. Add to this 1
tablespoonful wheat flour, 1 tablespoonful yellow cornmeal, and enough
good buckwheat flour to make a thin batter. Set in a warm place near the
range to rise. About 6 or 7 o'clock in the evening add this sponge to 1 quart
and 1 pint of lukewarm potato water (water drained from boiled potatoes), 1
tablespoonful of mashed potatoes added improves the cakes; add salt. They
need considerable. Stir in enough buckwheat flour to make quite a stiff
batter, beat hard and set to rise, covered, in a warm place over night. The
next morning add 1 teaspoonful salaratus, dissolved in a little hot water; 1
tablespoonful of baking molasses and a little warm milk, to thin the batter;
or water will answer. The batter should be thin enough to pour. Let stand a
short time, then bake on a hot griddle. Half this quantity will be enough for
a small family. Then use only ½ teaspoonful salaratus. Bake golden brown
on hot griddle. Serve with honey or maple syrup. If this recipe for
buckwheat cakes is followed, you should have good cakes, but much of
their excellence depends on the flour. Buy a small quantity of flour and try
it before investing in a large quantity, as you cannot make good cakes from
a poor brand of flour.

DELICIOUS CORN CAKES
One cup of sweet milk heated to boiling point; stir in 2 heaping
tablespoonfuls yellow, granulated cornmeal; add a tablespoonful of butter
or lard and salt to taste. As soon as the mixture has cooled, stir in 1
tablespoonful of wheat flour. If the batter should be too thick, stir in enough
cold, sweet milk to make it run easily from the spoon. Add 1 heaping
teaspoonful of Royal baking powder. Drop spoonfuls on hot, greased

griddle, and bake. This quantity makes cakes enough to serve three people,
about sixteen small cakes. This is an economical recipe, as no eggs are
used.

RICE WAFFLES (AS AUNT SARAH MADE THEM.)
Add 1 tablespoonful of butter and 1 tablespoonful lard to 1 cup of cold,
boiled rice; 2 yolks of eggs, the whites beaten separately and added last; 2
cups of flour, 1 teaspoonful salt and 2 teaspoonfuls baking powder, sifted
together; 1 teaspoonful of sugar and 1 teaspoonful of molasses, and enough
sweet milk to make a thin batter. Bake in hot waffle irons. With these serve
either maple syrup or a mixture of sugar and cinnamon.

"GERMAN" EGG-PANCAKES (NOT CHEAP)
These truly delicious pancakes were always baked by "Aunt Sarah" when
eggs were most plentiful. For them she used, 1 cup flour, 5 fresh eggs, ½
cup milk.
The yolks of 5 eggs were broken into a bowl and lightly beaten. Then
milk and flour were added gradually to form a smooth batter. Lastly, the
stiffly-beaten whites of eggs were added. Large spoonfuls were dropped on
a hot, well-greased griddle, forming small cakes, which were served as soon
as baked. These cakes require no baking powder. Their lightness depends
entirely on the stiffly-beaten whites of eggs.

"FRAU SCHMIDT'S" GRIDDLE CAKE RECIPE
The Professor's wife gave Mary this cheap and good recipe for griddle
cakes: 1 pint of quite sour, thick milk; beat into this thoroughly 1 even
teaspoon of baking soda, ½ teaspoon each of salt and sugar and 2 cups of

flour, to which had been added 1 tablespoon of granulated cornmeal and 1
rounded teaspoon of baking powder before sifting. No eggs were used by
the Professor's wife in these cakes, but Mary always added yolk of 1 egg to
the cakes when she baked them.

MARY'S RECIPE FOR "CORN CAKE"

1 cup of white flour.
½ cup cornmeal (yellow granulated cornmeal).
1 cup of sweet milk.
2 teaspoonfuls baking powder.
1 tablespoonful sugar.
½ teaspoonful salt.
1 tablespoonful butter.
1 tablespoonful lard.
1 egg.

Sift together flour, salt and baking powder, sugar, and add ½ cup of
granulated, yellow cornmeal. Mix with 1 cup milk, 1 beaten egg, and the 2
tablespoonfuls of butter and lard. Beat thoroughly. Add a tablespoonful
more of flour if not as stiff as ordinary cake batter. Pour in well-greased
bread tin and bake about 40 minutes in a hot oven.

AUNT SARAH'S DELICIOUS CREAM BISCUITS
Place in a flour sifter 2 cups of flour, 2 teaspoonfuls baking powder, ½
teaspoonful of salt and ½ teaspoonful of sugar. Sift twice; stir together ½
cup of sweet milk and ½ cup of thick, sweet cream. Quickly mix all
together, cutting through flour with a knife, until a soft dough is formed,
mixing and handling as little as possible. Drop spoonfuls into warmed
muffin tins and bake at once in a hot oven. Serve hot.

These are easily and quickly made, no shortening other than cream being
used, and if directions are closely followed will be flakey biscuits when
baked.
Aunt Sarah was always particular to use pastry flour when using baking
powder, in preference to higher-priced "Hard Spring Wheat," which she
used only for the making of bread or raised cakes, in which yeast was used.

MARY'S MUFFINS

2 cups of flour.
3 even teaspoonfuls of baking powder.
2 tablespoonfuls of sugar.
1 cup of sweet milk.
2 eggs.
1 tablespoonful of butter.

Sift flour and baking powder in a bowl; add 1 tablespoonful of sugar and
a pinch of salt; add the 2 yolks of eggs to the 1 cup of milk, and mix with
the flour and baking powder; lastly, add the stiffly-beaten whites of eggs.
Place large spoonfuls of the batter in small Gem pans. Bake in a hot oven
20 minutes. These muffins are fine.

CORN MUFFINS (AS MADE BY "FRAU SCHMIDT")

2 eggs.
1½ tablespoonfuls of sugar.
1 cup of granulated yellow cornmeal.
1½ cups of sweet milk.
2 cups of white flour.
3 teaspoonfuls of baking powder.
1 tablespoonful melted butter.
A pinch of salt

Beat together eggs and sugar, add milk and cornmeal and the white flour,
sifted, with baking powder and salt; add the 1 tablespoonful of melted
butter. Bake 20 minutes in warmed Gem pans, in a hot oven. Mary's Aunt
taught her to utilize any left-over muffins by making a very appetizing
pudding from them called "Indian Sponge" Pudding, the recipe for which
may be found among pudding recipes.

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE (AS FRAU SCHMIDT MADE IT)

1 pint of flour.
3 teaspoonfuls of baking powder.
2½ tablespoonfuls of butter or lard.
1 egg.
½ teaspoon of salt.
Milk or water.

Sift together flour, baking powder and salt, and cut butter or lard through
the flour. Add 1 beaten egg to about 1 cup of sweet milk, and add gradually
to the flour, cutting through it with a knife until a soft dough is formed,
mixing and handling as little as possible. Divide the dough into two
portions, roll out one portion quickly and place on a large pie tin; spread the
top of cake with softened (not melted) butter, lay the other cake on top and
bake in a quick oven. When baked and still hot, the cakes may be easily
separated without cutting; when, place between layers, and, if liked, on top
of the cake, crushed, sweetened strawberries. "Frau" Schmidt thought a
crushed banana added to the strawberries an improvement. Serve the hot
shortcake with sweet cream and sugar.
Or, the recipe for baking a plain (not rich) layer cake might be used
instead of the above. When baked and cooled, spread between the layers the
following:
To the stiffly-beaten white of 1 egg, add 1 cup of sugar; beat well. Then
add 1 cup of crushed strawberries. Beat all together until the consistency of
thick cream. Serve cold.

PERFECTION WAFFLES
Sift together 4 cups of flour, 2 teaspoonfuls of baking soda and 1
teaspoonful of salt, four times.
Separate 3 fresh eggs. Place the yolks in an earthenware mixing bowl.
Beat well with a spoon. Then add 3½ cups of sour milk or sour buttermilk
and ½ cup of sour cream, and 1 teaspoonful of melted butter. Mix a smooth
batter with the sifted flour and soda. Lastly, add the stiffly-beaten whites of
3 eggs. Mix the batter quickly and thoroughly. Bake on a hot, well-greased
waffle iron and serve at once.
The waffles may be buttered as soon as baked and sugar sifted over, or a
saucer containing a mixture of cinnamon and sugar, or a small jug of maple
syrup may be served with them. Twelve waffles were made from this
recipe.

RECIPE FOR MAKING "BAKING POWDER"
Sift together three times (through a fine sieve) 8 tablespoonfuls of cream
of tartar, 4 tablespoonfuls of baking soda (salaratus), 4 tablespoonfuls of
flour. Cornstarch may be substituted for flour. This latter ingredient is used
to keep the cream of tartar and soda separate and dry, as soda is made from
salt and will absorb moisture. This recipe for making a pure baking powder
was given Mary by Fran Schmidt, who had used it for years with good
results.

FRITTERS, CROQUETTES, DUMPLINGS AND CRULLERS
When cooking any article to be immersed in fat use about this proportion:
2 pounds of sweet lard to 1 of suet, which had been previously tried out. It

is cheaper, also more wholesome, to use part suet than to use all lard. Save
all pieces of left-over fat, either raw or cooked, from steaks, roasts, bacon or
ham. Cut all up into small pieces and place in a pan in the oven until tried
out, or put in a double boiler and stand over boiling water until fat is tried
out. Strain and stand aside to be used as drippings. To clarify this fat, pour
boiling water over, let cook a short time, strain and stand away in a cool
place, when a cake of solid fat will form on top, which may be readily
removed and used as drippings, or it may be added to the kettle of fat used
for deep frying. Always strain fat carefully after frying croquettes, fritters,
etc. Should the frying fat become dark add to the can of soap fat the
economical housewife is saving. Return the clear-strained fat to the cook
pot, cover carefully, stand aside in a cool place, and the strained fat may be
used times without number for frying. The housewife will find it very little
trouble to fry fritters, croquettes, etc., in deep fat, if the fat is always
strained immediately after using, and returned to the cook pot, kept
especially for this purpose. Stand on the hot range when required and the fat
will heat in a few minutes, and if the fat is the right temperature, food
cooked in it should not be at all greasy. When the housewife is planning to
fry fritters or croquettes she should, if possible, crumb the articles to be
fried several hours before frying, and stand aside to become perfectly cold.
When the fat for frying is so hot a blue smoke arises, drop in the fritters or
croquettes, one at a time, in order not to chill the fat or plunge a frying
basket, containing only a couple of fritters at a time, in the hot fat, as too
many placed in the fat at one time lowers the temperature too quickly and
causes the fritters to be greasy and soggy. To test the fat before dropping in
the fritters, if a small piece of bread is dropped in the fat and browns in
about one minute the fat is the right temperature for frying fritters, and
fritters fried at the correct temperature should be a rich brown and not at all
greasy. When removing fritters from hot fat place on coarse brown paper to
absorb any remaining fat. Fritters composed of vegetables, or oysters,
should be served on a platter garnished with parsley, and fritters composed
of fruit, should have pulverized sugar sifted over them liberally. Should a
small piece of bread brown in the fat while you count twenty, fat is the
correct temperature for frying croquettes, but is too hot for frying crullers or
any food not previously cooked.

KARTOFFLE BALLA (POTATO BALLS)
Boil until tender, 8 medium-sized (not pared) potatoes; when quite cold
remove parings and grate them; fry one finely-chopped onion in a little
butter until a yellow-brown; add this, also 1 egg, to the potatoes, season
with salt and pepper and add flour enough to mold into balls; use only flour
enough to hold the mixture together. The chopped onion may be omitted,
and instead, brown small, dice-like pieces of bread in a little butter, shape
dumplings into balls the size of walnuts, place a teaspoonful of the browned
bread crumbs in the centre of each and add also a little chopped parsley.
Drop the dumplings in salted boiling water and cook uncovered from 15 to
20 minutes. When dumplings rise to the top they should be cooked
sufficiently, when remove from kettle with a skimmer to a platter; cut
dumplings in half and strew over them bread crumbs, browned in butter.

"BOOVA SHENKEL"
For this excellent "Pennsylvania German" dish, which I am positive has
never before been published, take 2½ pounds of stewing meat (beef
preferred), season with salt and pepper and cook slowly several hours until
tender.
For the filling for the circles of dough, take 12 medium-sized white
potatoes, pared and thinly sliced, steamed until tender; then add seasoning
to taste of salt and pepper, 2 tablespoonfuls of butter, 2 tablespoonfuls of
finely-minced parsley and 1 finely-chopped onion (small); lastly, add 3
eggs, lightly beaten together, to the mixture. Allow this to stand while the
pastry is being prepared in the following manner:
Pastry—Sift into a bowl 2½ cups of flour, 2 teaspoonfuls of baking
powder and ½ teaspoonful of salt, 1 generous teaspoonful of lard and 1 of
butter. Cut through the flour, mix with water into a dough as for pie crust.
Roll thin, cut into about ten circles, and spread some of the mixture on each
circle of dough. Press two opposite edges together like small, three-

cornered turnover pies; drop these on to the hot meat and broth in the cook
pot, closely covered. Cook slowly from 20 to 30 minutes. Before serving
the "Boova Shenkel" pour over the following:
Cut slices of stale bread into dice and brown in a pan containing 1 large
tablespoonful of butter and a couple tablespoonfuls of fat (which had been
skimmed from top of broth before "Boova Shenkel" had been put in cook
pot), add about ½ cup of milk to diced, browned bread; when hot, pour over
the "Boova Shenkel" and serve with the meat on a large platter.

RICE BALLS WITH CHEESE
Place 2 cups of cold, boiled rice, well drained, in a bowl and add ½ cup of
grated cheese, a little salt, ¼ cup flour and the stiffly-beaten white of one
egg. Mix all together and mold into balls about the size of a small egg, with
a little of the flour; then roll them in fine, dried bread crumbs, and stand
away until perfectly cold. When preparing for lunch, beat the yolk of the
egg with a little milk, dip the rice balls into this, then into fine, dried bread
crumbs, drop in deep fat and fry a golden brown. Drain on brown paper and
serve, garnished with parsley.

"KARTOFFLE KLOSE"
One quart of cold, boiled, skinned potatoes, grated. (Boil without paring
the day before they are to be used, if possible.) Put into a frying pan 1
tablespoonful of butter, 1 finely-minced onion (small onion), and fry until a
light brown. Remove from fire and mix with this: 2 heaped tablespoonfuls
flour, 1 tablespoonful of finely-cut parsley, 2 eggs (whites beaten
separately), and 2 slices of bread, cut fine. Add grated potatoes and bread
crumbs, alternately, mixing together lightly with a fork; add the other
ingredients, season well with salt and pepper, form into round balls the size
of a walnut and drop into a stew-pan of boiling, salted water, containing a
teaspoon of butter. Do not cover the stew-pan while they are cooking. As

soon as the dumplings rise to the top, skim one out and cut in half to see if it
is cooked through. They should take from 15 to 20 minutes to cook. Skim
out of the boiling water on a platter. Cut each dumpling in half, pour over
them bread crumbs browned in a pan containing a little lard and butter, and
serve. The onion may be omitted and only finely-chopped parsley used, if
desired, or use both. Or place the halved dumplings in pan containing a
little lard and butter and chopped onion (if the latter is liked), and brown on
each side, then serve.

RICE CROQUETTES (AND LEMON SAUCE)
Boil 1 cup of well-washed rice in 6 or 8 cups of rapidly-boiling water,
until tender. The rice, when cooked and drained, should fill 3 cups. Prepare
a cream sauce of 1 pint of milk, 3 heaping tablespoonfuls of flour and 2
tablespoons of butter and 2 egg yolks. Stir in 3 cups of flaky, cooked rice,
while rice is still hot. When the mixture has cooled, mold into small cone
shapes with the hands, stand aside until perfectly cold. Dip the croquettes
into the whites of eggs, then roll them in fine, dried bread crumbs and fry in
deep fat. If a cube of bread browns in the fat in a little longer time than a
half minute, the fat is the right temperature. Eighteen croquettes were made
from this quantity of rice.
Lemon Sauce—To serve with rice croquettes, cream together ½ cup of
sugar, 1 tablespoonful of butter, 1 egg, 2 cups of boiling water was added
and all cooked together until the mixture thickened. When cooled slightly
add the juice and grated rind of one lemon. Serve in a separate bowl, and
pass with the croquettes.

CORN OYSTERS
Slice off tips of kernels from cobs of corn and scrape down corn-pulp
from cobb with a knife. To 1 pint of pulp add 2 eggs, 2 heaping
tablespoonfuls of flour, ½ teaspoonful of salt and a pinch of cayenne pepper

and of black pepper; add the 2 yolks of eggs, then stir in lightly the stiffly-
beaten white of eggs and flour. Fry in only enough butter to prevent them
sticking to the pan. Drop into pan by spoonfuls size of an ordinary fried
oyster, brown on both sides and serve hot.

BANANA FRITTERS
From one banana was made 4 fritters. The banana was halved, cut
lengthwise and then cut cross-wise. The batter will do for all fruits, clams,
corn or oysters. Make a sauce of the liquor, mixed with same quantity of
milk, with a tablespoon of butter added, chopped parsley and flour to
thicken. When making oyster or clam fritters use same rule as for fruit
fritters, using clam juice and milk instead of all milk.
For the "fritter batter," sift together 1 pint of flour, 2 teaspoonfuls baking
powder and a pinch of salt. Stir slowly into it a pint of milk, then the well-
beaten yolks of 3 eggs, and, lastly, the stiffly-beaten whites of eggs. Beat
hard for a few minutes and fry at once in smoking hot fat. Orange sections
make delicious fritters, or halves of fresh or canned peaches may be used.
Allow the bananas to stand one-quarter hour in a dish containing a small
quantity of lemon juice and sugar before putting them in the batter. Lay the
slices of bananas or sections of orange in the batter, then take up a
tablespoonful of the batter with one slice of banana for each fritter, drop
into hot fat one at a time, and fry a golden brown. Sift pulverized sugar over
and serve hot. If a small piece of bread browns in one minute in the fat it is
the right temperature to fry any previously uncooked food.

PARSNIP FRITTERS
Scrape and boil 5 or 6 parsnips in salted water until tender and drain. If
old parsnips, cut out the centre, as it is tough and woody. Mash parsnips
fine, add 1 egg yolk (white beaten separately), and added last a little salt, 1
large tablespoonful flour, ¼ teaspoonful baking powder, mold into small

cakes, dredge with flour, and fry quickly to a golden brown in a
tablespoonful of butter and one of drippings. Serve at once.

AUNT SARAH'S "SCHNITZ AND KNOPF"
This is an old-fashioned "Pennsylvania German" favorite. The end of a
ham bone, containing a very little meat, was placed in a large kettle with a
small quantity of water, with "Schnitz," or sliced, sweet, dried apples,
which had been dried without removing the parings. When the apples were
cooked tender in the ham broth; dumplings, composed of the following,
were lightly dropped on top of the apples and broth and cooked, closely
covered, from 15 to 20 minutes. Do not uncover kettle the first ten minutes.
When dumplings have cooked place them with the "Schnitz" on a large
platter, and serve at once.

A VERY OLD RECIPE FOR DUMPLINGS, OR "KNOPF"
One and one-half quarts of flour was sifted with 2½ tablespoonfuls of
Royal baking powder, 1 teaspoonful of butter was cut through the flour in
small bits, 1 egg was beaten and enough milk or water added to the egg to
mix the flour into quite a soft dough. Sometimes instead of molding the
dough into balls large spoonfuls were placed over the apples. Aunt Sarah
had used this recipe for many years. This is a very old recipe, and from it
was made a larger quantity than ordinary housekeepers usually require. Half
the quantity, about 1½ pints of flour to 1¼ tablespoonfuls of baking powder,
mixed according to the directions given in the first part of recipe, would be
about the correct proportions for a family of ordinary size.
Aunt Sarah frequently substituted sour cherries and a teaspoonful of
butter was added instead of ham and "Schnitz." Dumplings prepared from
this recipe may be dropped on stewed chicken and broth and cooked or
steamed, make an excellent pot-pie. Should there be more dough mixed
than required for dumplings, place a panful in the oven and bake as biscuits.
More baking powder is required when dough is steamed or boiled than
when baked in the oven.

"KARTOFFLE KUKLEIN" (POTATO FRITTERS OR BOOFERS)
Place in a bowl 2 cups grated, pared, raw potatoes; drain off any liquid
formed, then add 1 small onion, also grated; large egg or 2 small eggs, salt
and pepper, 1 tablespoonful chopped parsley, ¼ teaspoonful baking powder
(good measure), and a couple tablespoonfuls of flour to thicken just enough
to make the fritters hold together; then drop by spoonfuls in deep, hot fat,
and fry a rich brown. The fritters form into odd shapes a trifle larger than a
fried oyster, when dropped in the fat.
Should the fritter batter separate when dropped in the fat, add more flour,
but if too much flour is added they are not as good as when a lesser quantity
is used. Drain the fritters on brown paper and garnish the platter upon
which they are served with parsley. Mary's Uncle was very fond of these
fritters. He preferred them to fried oysters, and always called them "potato
boofers." I would not answer for the wholesomeness of these fritters. In
fact, I do not think any fried food particularly wholesome.

ROSETTES, WAFERS AND ROSENKUCHEN (AS MADE BY
FRAU SCHMIDT)
Prepare a batter from the following:

1 cup of sweet milk.
2 eggs.
Pinch of salt.
1 cup of flour, good measure.

Gradually mix the flour with the milk to form a smooth batter, free from
lumps. Add yolks, then the slightly-beaten whites of eggs. Fasten the long
handle to a wafer iron, shaped like a cup or saucer, and stand it in hot fat, a
mixture of ⅔ lard and ⅓ suet, or oil; when heated, remove at once, and dip
quickly into the batter, not allowing the batter to come over top of the wafer

iron. Then return it to the hot fat, which should cover the wafer iron, and in
about 25 or 30 seconds the wafer should be lightly browned, when the
wafer may be easily removed from the iron on to a piece of brown paper to
absorb any fat which may remain. This amount of batter should make about
forty wafers. On these wafers may be served creamed oysters, vegetables,
chicken or fruit. When using the wafers as a foundation on which to serve
fruit, whipped cream is a dainty adjunct. One teaspoonful of sugar should
then be added to the wafer batter. These wafers may be kept several weeks,
when by simply placing them in a hot oven a minute before serving they
will be almost as good as when freshly cooked. Or the wafers may be
served as a fritter by sifting over them pulverized sugar and cinnamon.

"BAIRISCHE DAMPFNUDELN"
These delicious Bavarian steamed dumplings are made in this manner: 1
cake of Fleischman's compressed yeast was dissolved in a cup of lukewarm
milk, sift 1 pint of flour into a bowl, add 1 teaspoonful of sugar and 1
teaspoonful of salt. Mix the flour with another cup of lukewarm milk, 1 egg
and the dissolved yeast cake and milk (two cups of milk were used
altogether). Work all together thoroughly, adding gradually about 1½ cups
of flour to form a soft dough. Do not mix it too stiff. Cover the bowl with a
cloth; stand in a warm place until it has doubled the original bulk. Flour the
bread board and turn out dough and mold into small biscuits or dumplings.
Let these rise for half an hour, butter a pudding pan and place dumplings in
it, brushing tops with melted butter. Pour milk in the pan around the
dumplings to about two-thirds the depth of the dumplings; set pan on
inverted pie tin in oven and bake a light brown. Serve with any desired
sauce or stewed fruit. Or, after the shaped dough has raised, drop it in a
large pot of slightly-salted boiling water, allowing plenty of room for them
to swell and puff up, and boil continuously, closely covered, for 20 minutes.
This quantity makes about 30 small dumplings. Should you not wish so
many, half the quantity might be molded out, placed in a greased pie tin,
and when light, which takes half an hour, bake in a moderately hot oven,
and you will have light biscuits for lunch.

The thrifty German Hausfraus make fritters of everything imaginable, and
sometimes unimaginable. Mary was told one day by a German neighbor
how she prepared a fritter she called:

"HELLER BLUTHER KUKLEIN"
She gathered elderberry blossoms, rinsed off the dust, and when free from
moisture dipped the blossoms into fritter batter, holding the stem ends, then
dropped them into hot fat, and when golden brown, drained a minute on
coarse, brown paper before serving, dusted them with powdered sugar;
cinnamon may also be dusted over if liked. Mary pronounced them "fine,"
after tasteing, and said: "They certainly are a novelty." Perhaps something
like this suggested the Rosette Iron, as it is somewhat similar.

APYL KUKLEIN (APPLE FRITTERS)
Pare and core 4 large tart apples. Cut each apple into about 4 round slices
and allow the sliced apples to lie a couple of hours in a dish containing 2
tablespoonfuls of brandy, mixed with a half teaspoonful of cinnamon and a
half teaspoonful of sugar. Drain the sliced apples, then a few at a time
should be dropped in the following batter, composed of: 1 cup of flour
sifted with ½ teaspoonful of Royal baking powder, ¼ teaspoonful of salt,
add the yolks of 2 eggs and 1 cup of milk to form a smooth batter, then add
the stiffly-beaten whites of eggs. Fry light brown, in deep, hot fat, and sift
over powdered sugar. "Fried Apples" are an appetizing garnish for pork
chops; the apples should be cored, not pared, but should be sliced, and
when cut the slices should resemble round circles, with holes in the centre.
Allow the sliced apples to remain a short time in a mixture of cinnamon and
brandy, dry on a napkin, and fry in a pan, containing a couple of
tablespoonfuls of sweet drippings and butter.

DUMPLINGS MADE FROM "BREAD SPONGE"
Aunt Sarah's raised dumplings from bread sponge were greatly relished at
the farm.
When bread sponge, which had been set to rise early in the morning, and
all flour necessary for loaves of bread had been added and loaves were
being shaped to place in bread tins, Aunt Sarah reserved an amount of
sponge sufficient for one loaf of bread, added a little extra salt, shaped them
into small balls, size of a lemon, placed them on a well-floured board some
distance apart to raise; when light (at 12 o'clock, if the dinner hour was
12.20), she carefully dropped the light balls of dough into a large pot of
rapidly boiling, slightly salted water, covered closely, and boiled about 20
minutes, (Do not have more than one layer of the dumplings in cook pot,
and do not place too close together; allow room for them to expand.)
Test by tearing one apart with a fork. Serve at once, and serve with a
roast, to be eaten with gravy, with butter, or they may be eaten as a dessert,
with jelly or maple syrup.
Aunt Sarah frequently added an equal quantity of fine, dried bread crumbs
and flour and a little extra salt to a thin batter of bread sponge (before all
the flour required for bread had been added), made about as stiff a dough as
for ordinary loaves of bread; molded them into balls. When sufficiently
raised, boiled them either in water or meat broth in the same manner as she
prepared dumplings; made only of flour.
This is a small economy, using bread crumbs in place of flour, and these
are delicious if prepared according to directions. Remember to have a large
quantity of rapidly boiling water in which to cook the dumplings, not to
allow water to stop boiling an instant and to keep cook pot closely covered
for 20 minutes before removing one, and breaking apart to see if cooked
through. These are particularly nice served with stewed apricots.

"LEBER KLOSE" OR LIVER DUMPLINGS

Boil a good-sized soup bone for several hours in plenty of water, to which
add salt and pepper to taste and several small pieces of celery and sprigs of
parsley to flavor stock. Strain the broth or stock into a good-sized cook pot
and set on stove to keep hot.
For the liver dumplings, scrape a half pound of raw beef liver with a
knife, until fine and free from all veins, etc. Place the scraped liver in a
large bowl, cut three or four good-sized onions into dice, fry a light brown,
in a pan containing 1 tablespoonful of lard and butter mixed. Cut into dice
¾ to a whole loaf of bread (about 2 quarts). Beat 2 eggs together, add 1 cup
of sweet milk, season well with salt and pepper, and mix all together with 1
large cup of flour. If not moist enough to form into balls when mixed
together, add more milk. Keep the mixture as soft as possible or the
dumplings will be heavy. Flour the hands when shaping the balls, which
should be the size of a shelled walnut. Stand the pot containing stock on the
front of the stove, where it will boil, and when boiling, drop in the
dumplings and boil, uncovered, for 15 minutes. When cooked, take the
dumplings carefully from the stock on to a large platter, pour the stock over
the dumplings and serve.
These are excellent, but a little troublesome to make. One-half this
quantity would serve a small family for lunch.

FRAU SCHMIDT'S "OLD RECIPE FOR SCHNITZ AND KNOPF"
Place a cook pot on the range, containing the end piece of a small ham;
partly cover with water. This should be done about three hours before
serving, changing the water once. Soak sweet, unpared, sliced, dried apples
over night in cold water. In the morning cook the dried apples (or schnitz)
in a small quantity of the ham broth, in a separate stew-pan, until tender.
Remove ham from broth one-half hour before serving. Sweeten the broth
with a small quantity of brown sugar, and when the broth commences to
boil add raised dumplings of dough, which had been shaped with the hands
into round balls about the size of an ordinary biscuit. Cook 25 minutes. Do
not uncover the cook-pot after the dumplings have been dropped into the
broth until they have cooked the required length of time. When the

dumplings have cooked a sufficient time carefully remove to a warm platter
containing the cooked apple schnitz. Thicken the broth remaining with a
little flour, to the consistency of cream. Pour over the dumplings and serve
at once.
Dumplings—At 9.30 in the evening set a sponge consisting of 1 cup of
lukewarm milk, 1 tablespoonful sugar, 1 tablespoonful of butter, 1 egg, ¾ of
an yeast cake, add flour enough to form a sponge (as stiff as may be stirred
with a mixing spoon). Set to raise in a warm place over night. In the
morning add more flour to the risen sponge until nearly as stiff as for bread.
Form into round dumplings, place on a well-floured bake-board to rise
slowly. Twenty-five minutes before serving drop dumplings into the hot
broth in a large cook-pot.
There should be only one layer of dumplings, otherwise they will be
heavy.

"BROD KNODEL," OR BREAD DUMPLINGS

3 cups of stale bread (cut like dice).
¾ cup of flour.
½ teaspoonful baking powder.
¾ cup milk.
2 tablespoonfuls butter.
1 egg.
1 teaspoonful of finely-minced parsley.
½ teaspoonful finely-minced onion (if liked).
Pinch of salt.

Place two cups of diced bread in a bowl and pour over ¾ cup of milk.
(Reserve 1 cup of diced bread, which brown in 1 tablespoonful of butter, to
be added to the mixture later.) Allow milk and bread to stand 10 or 15
minutes; then add 1 tablespoonful of melted butter, 1 egg, flour and baking
powder, and salt; fried, diced bread and parsley, and mix all together. With
well-floured hands form the mixture into balls size of a walnut, and drop at
once into rapidly boiling salted water and cook 15 minutes. Stew pan

should be closely covered. When cooked, remove to platter with perforated
skimmer, and serve at once, or drop dumplings into a pan containing 1
tablespoonful of melted butter, and brown on all sides before serving.

"GERMAN" POT PIE
To serve a family of six or seven, place 2 pounds of beef and 4 pork
chops, cut in small pieces, in a cook-pot. Season with a little chopped
onion, pepper and salt. This should be done about three or four hours before
dinner. One hour before serving prepare the dough for pot pie. Pare white
potatoes, slice and dry on a napkin, sift 2 cups of flour with 1 teaspoonful of
baking-powder, pinch of salt, cut through the sifted flour, 1 level
tablespoonful of shortening. Moisten dough with 1 egg and enough milk to
make dough stiff enough to handle. (Almost 1 cup of milk, including the
egg.) Cut off a small piece of dough, size of a small teacup, roll thin and
take up plenty of flour on both sides. Take up all flour possible. Cut this
dough into four portions or squares. Have the meat more than covered with
water, as water cooks away.
Place a layer of potatoes on meat (well seasoned), then the pared potatoes
and small pieces of dough alternately, never allowing pieces of dough to
lap; place potatoes between. Roll the last layer out in one piece, size of a pie
plate, and cover top layer of potatoes with it. Cover closely and cook three-
quarters of an hour from the time it commences to boil. Then turn out
carefully on a platter and serve at once.

"ZWETCHEN DAMPFNUDELN" (PRUNE DUMPLINGS)
In the evening a sponge was prepared with yeast for bread. All the flour
required to stiffen the dough for loaves of bread being added at this time.
The bread sponge was stood in a warm place to rise over night. In the
morning, when shaping the dough into loaves, stand aside about one pint of
the bread dough. Later in the morning form the pint of dough into small

balls or dumplings, place on a well-floured bake board and stand in a warm
place until doubled in size. Then drop the dumplings into a cook pot
containing stewed prunes, a small quantity of water, a little sugar and lemon
peel, if liked. The dried prunes had been soaked over night in cold water,
and allowed to simmer on the range in the morning. The prune juice should
be hot when the dumplings are added. Cook dumplings one-half hour in a
closely covered cook-pot and turn out carefully on to a warmed platter,
surrounded by prune juice and prunes.

GREEN CORN FRITTERS
Grate pulp from six ears of corn; with a knife scrape down the pulp into a
bowl, add 2 eggs, beaten separately, a couple tablespoonfuls of milk, 1 large
tablespoonful of flour, ¼ teaspoonful of baking powder and a pinch of salt.
Drop with a spoon on a well-greased griddle. The cakes should be the size
of a silver half dollar. Bake brown on either side and serve hot. These
should not be fried as quickly as griddle cakes are fried, as the corn might
then not be thoroughly cooked.

"MOULDASHA" (PARSLEY PIES)
Mash and season with butter and salt half a dozen boiled white potatoes,
add a little grated onion and chopped parsley. Sift together in a bowl 1 cup
of flour, 1 teaspoonful baking powder and a little salt. Add a small quantity
of milk to one egg if not enough liquid to mix into a soft dough. Roll out
like pie crust, handling as little as possible. Cut into small squares, fill with
the potato mixture, turn opposite corners over and pinch together all around
like small, three-cornered pies. Drop the small triangular pies into boiling,
salted water a few minutes, or until they rise to top; then skim out and
brown them in a pan containing a tablespoonful each of butter and lard. I
have known some Germans who called these "Garden Birds." Stale bread
crumbs, browned in butter, may be sprinkled over these pies when served.
Serve hot.

These are really pot pie or dumplings with potato filling. Mary's Aunt
always called these "Mouldasha." Where she obtained the name or what its
meaning is, the writer is unable to say.

INEXPENSIVE DROP CRULLERS
Cream together 1 cup sugar and 1 egg, then add one cup of milk
alternately with 2 cups of flour, sifted with 2 teaspoonfuls of baking
powder. Add ½ teaspoonful of vanilla and enough flour to make a stiff
batter.
Take about ½ a teaspoonful of the batter at a time and drop into boiling
hot fat, and brown on both sides; then drain on coarse, brown paper and,
when cool, dust with pulverized sugar. These cakes are cheap and good, and
as no shortening is used are not rich. Do not make cakes too large, as they
then will not cook through readily.

BATTER BAKED WITH GRAVY
The Professor's wife gave Mary this recipe, given her by an
Englishwoman. The recipe was liked by her family, being both economical
and good. When serving roast beef for dinner, before thickening the gravy,
take out about half a cup of liquid from the pan and stand in a cool place
until the day following. Reheat the roast remaining from previous day, pour
the half cup of liquid in an iron fry pan, and when hot pour the following
batter in the pan with the fat and bake in a moderately hot oven about 25
minutes. Or the batter may be poured in pan about 25 minutes before meat
has finished roasting.
The batter was composed of 1 cup of flour, sifted with 1 small
teaspoonful of baking powder and ½ teaspoonful of salt, mixed smooth with
1 cup of sweet milk. Add 2 well-beaten eggs. When baked cut in small
pieces, surround the meat on platter, serve instead of potatoes with roast.

The addition of baked dough extends the meat flavor and makes possible
the serving of a smaller amount of meat at a meal.

"GERMAN" SOUR CREAM CRULLERS
One cup sugar, 1 cup sour cream, 2 eggs, 2 tablespoonfuls of butter, 1
teaspoonful soda, pinch of salt. About 3½ cups of flour. (Use extra flour to
dredge the bake-board when rolling out crullers.) This is a very good recipe
for crullers, in which the economical housewife may use the cup of cream
which has turned sour. This necessitates using less shortening, which
otherwise would be required. Cream together sugar, butter, add yolks of
eggs. Dissolve the soda in a small quantity of sour cream. Mix cream
alternately with the flour. Add pinch of salt. Add just enough flour to roll
out. Cut with small doughnut cutter with hole in centre. Fry in hot fat. Dust
with pulverized sugar.

"GRANDMOTHER'S" DOUGHNUTS
Cream together 1 cup sugar and 2 teaspoonfuls butter, ½ a grated nutmeg,
and a pinch of salt. Add 2 eggs, beaten without separating yolks from
whites, and 1 cup of sweet milk. Then add 4 cups of flour (or 1 quart),
prepared as follows: Measure 1 quart of unsifted flour and sift twice with 2
generous teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Use this to thicken the batter
sufficiently to roll out and use about 1 extra cup of flour to flour the bake-
board. Turn out one-half the quantity of dough on to a half cup of flour on
the bake-board. Roll out dough half an inch thick. Cut out with round cutter,
with hole in centre, and drop into deep, hot fat. Use ⅔ lard and ⅓ suet for
deep frying; it is cheaper and more wholesome than to use all lard. When
fat is hot enough to brown a small piece of bread while you count 60, it is
the correct temperature for doughnuts. The dough should be as soft as can
be handled. When cakes are a rich brown, take from fat, drain well on
coarse, brown paper, and when cool dust with pulverized sugar and place in
a covered stone jar. Never use fat as hot for frying doughnuts as that used

for frying croquettes, but should the fat not be hot the doughnuts would be
greasy. These doughnuts are excellent if made according to recipe.

FINE "DROP CRULLERS"
Cream together 1½ cups pulverized sugar, 3 eggs, add 1 cup sweet milk,
½ teaspoonful of salt, 3½ cups of flour, sifted after measuring with 2
teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Drop teaspoonfuls of this carefully into
boiling fat.
They should resemble small balls when fried. Batter must not be too stiff,
but about the consistency of a cup-cake batter.
Boil them in a mixture of cinnamon and sugar when all have been fried.

SOUPS AND CHOWDERS

Stock is the basis of all soups made from meat, and is really the juice of
the meat extracted by long and gentle simmering. In making stock for soup
always use an agate or porcelain-lined stock pot. Use one quart of cold
water to each pound of meat and bone. Use cheap cuts of meat for soup
stock. Excellent stock may be made from bones and trimmings of meat and
poultry. Wash soup bones and stewing meat quickly in cold water. Never
allow a roast or piece of stewing meat to lie for a second in water. Aunt
Sarah did not think that wiping meat with a damp cloth was all that was
necessary (although many wise and good cooks to the contrary). Place meat
and soup bones in a stock pot, pour over the requisite amount of soft, cold
water to extract the juice and nutritive quality of the meat; allow it to come
to a boil, then stand back on the range, where it will just simmer for 3 or 4
hours. Then add a sliced onion, several sprigs of parsley, small pieces of
chopped celery tops, well-scraped roots of celery, and allow to simmer
three-quarters of an hour longer. Season well with salt and pepper, 1 level

teaspoonful of salt will season 1 quart of soup. Strain through a fine sieve,
stand aside, and when cool remove from top the solid cake of fat which had
formed and use for frying after it has been clarified. It is surprising to know
the variety of soups made possible by the addition of a small quantity of
vegetables or cereals to stock. A couple tablespoonfuls of rice or barley
added to well-seasoned stock and you have rice or barley soup. A small
quantity of stewed, sweet corn or noodles, frequently "left-overs," finely
diced or grated carrots, potatoes, celery or onions, and you have a vegetable
soup. Strain the half can of tomatoes, a "left-over" from dinner, add a
tablespoonful of butter, a seasoning of salt and pepper, thicken to a creamy
consistency with a little cornstarch, add to cup of soup stock, serve with
croutons of bread or crackers, and you have an appetizing addition to dinner
or lunch.
The possibilities for utilizing left-overs are almost endless. The
economically-inclined housewife will be surprised to find how easily she
may add to the stock pot by adding left-over undesirable pieces of meat and
small quantities of vegetables. One or two spoonfuls of cold left-over
oatmeal may also be added to soup with advantage, occasionally. Always
remove the cake of fat which forms on top of soup as soon as cooled, as
soup will turn sour more quickly if it is allowed to remain. If soup stock be
kept several days in summer time, heat it each day to prevent souring.
Pieces of celery, onion, parsley, beans and peas may all be added to soup
to make it more palatable. Also fine noodles. The yolk of a hard-boiled egg
dropped into the soup kettle and heated through, allowing one for each plate
of soup served, is a quick and appetizing addition to a soup of plain broth or
consomme.

VEGETABLE SOUP
Slice thinly 3 potatoes, 3 carrots, 3 turnips, the undesirable parts of 2
heads of celery, 2 stalks of parsley and 3 onions. Cook the onions in a little
butter until they turn a yellow brown, then add the other ingredients. Season
well with salt and black pepper, also a pinch of red pepper. Put all together
in a stew-pan, cover with three quarts of water, stand on range and simmer

about three hours. Strain soup into stew-pan, place on range, and when hot
add Marklose Balls.

MARKLOSE BALLS
Take marrow from uncooked beef soup bones, enough to fill 2
tablespoons, cut fine, add 2 eggs, 1 teaspoonful grated onion to flavor,
pepper and salt, stiffen with 1 cup of bread crumbs, shape into balls size of
marbles, drop into hot broth and cook uncovered from 15 to 20 minutes.
Aunt Sarah purchased two good-sized soup bones containing considerable
meat. After extracting 2 tablespoonfuls of marrow from the uncooked
bones, she put the bones in a stew-pan with a couple of quarts of water, a
large onion, chopped fine, and a piece of celery, and cooked for several
hours, then skimmed off scum which arises on top of broth, removed the
soup bones and meat and added a couple of tablespoonfuls of grated carrot,
pepper and salt to taste, cooked a short time, and then added the marrow
balls, a little chopped parsley and a couple of tablespoonfuls of boiled rice.
Two tablespoonfuls of marrow will make about 15 balls, with the addition
of crumbs, eggs, etc.

EGG BALLS FOR SOUP
Mash the yolks of 2 hard-boiled eggs fine and smooth with a little soft
butter. Beat the white of 1 egg, and add with about 2 tablespoonfuls of
flour, salt and pepper. Mix all together. Use a little flour to mold the mixture
into balls the size of quite small marbles. Do not make too stiff. Drop these
into hot broth or soup and cook about five minutes. This quantity will make
12 small balls.

"SUPPEE SCHWANGEN"

Mary was taught to make these by the Professor's wife. She beat together
either 1 or 2 raw eggs, ½ cup flour, 1 tablespoonful butter, a little salt, and
just enough milk to thin the mixture enough so it may be dropped by half
teaspoonfuls into hot soup stock or broth. Cook these small dumplings
about 10 minutes. Serve in soup broth.

CREAM OF OYSTER BOUILLON
Put two dozen oysters through food chopper, cook oyster liquor and
oysters together five minutes, heat 1 pint milk and 1 tablespoon flour,
mixed smooth with a little cold milk, and 1 tablespoonful butter. Let come
to a boil, watching carefully that it does not burn. Pour all together when
ready to serve. Serve in bouillon cups with crackers. This recipe was given
Mary by a friend in Philadelphia, who thought it unexcelled.

GERMAN NOODLE SOUP
Place about 3 pounds of cheap stewing beef in a cook-pot with sufficient
water and cook several hours, until meat is quite tender; season with salt
and pepper. About an hour before serving chop fine 3 medium-sized
potatoes and 2 onions and cook in broth until tender. Ten or fifteen minutes
before serving add noodle.
To prepare noodles, break 2 fresh eggs in a bowl, fill ½ an egg shell with
cold water, add the eggs, and mix with flour as stiff as can conveniently be
handled. Add a little salt to flour. Divide dough into sheets, roll on bake-
board, spread on cloth a short time and let dry, but not until too brittle to
roll into long, narrow rolls. Cut this with a sharp knife into thin, thread-like
slices, unroll, drop as many as wished into the stew-pan with the meat and
cook about 10 or 15 minutes. Place the meat on a platter and serve the
remainder in soup plates. The remaining noodles (not cooked) may be
unrolled and dried and later cooked in boiling salted water, drained and
placed in a dish and browned butter, containing a few soft, browned

crumbs, poured over them when served. The very fine noodles are generally
served with soup and the broad or medium-sized ones served with brown
butter Germans usually serve with a dish of noodles, either stewed, dried
prunes, or stewed raisins. Both are palatable and healthful.

CREAM OF CELERY
Cook 1 large stalk of celery, also the root cut up in dice, in 1 pint of water,
½ hour or longer. Mash celery and put through a fine sieve. Add 1 pint of
scalded milk, and thicken with a tablespoonful of flour, mixed with a little
cold milk. Add 2 tablespoonfuls of butter, pepper and salt, and simmer a
few minutes. Just before serving add a cup of whipped cream. Serve with
the soup, small "croutons" of bread.

OYSTER STEW
Rinse a stew-pan with cold water, then put in 1 pint of milk and let come
to a boil. Heat 15 oysters in a little oyster liquor a few minutes, until the
oysters curl up around the edges, then add the oysters to one-half the hot
milk, add a large tablespoonful of butter, season well with salt and pepper,
and when serving the stew add the half pint of boiling hot milk remaining.
This quantity makes two small stews. Serve crackers and pickled cabbage.
When possible use a mixture of sweet cream and milk for an oyster stew
instead of all milk. An old cook told Mary she always moistened half a
teaspoonful of cornstarch and added to the stew just before removing from
the range to cause it to have a creamy consistency.

CLAM BROTH
Clam broth may be digested usually by the most delicate stomach. It can
be bought in cans, but the young housewife may like to know how to

prepare it herself. Strain the juice from one-half dozen clams and save.
Remove objectionable parts from clams, cut in small pieces, add ½ pint of
cold water and the clam juice, let cook slowly about 10 minutes, strain and
season with pepper and salt, a little butter and milk, and serve hot.

TURKEY SOUP
Take broken-lip bones and undesirable pieces of roast turkey, such as
neck, wings and left-over pieces of bread filling, put in stew-pot, cover with
water, add pieces of celery, sliced onion and parsley, cook several hours,
strain, and to the strained liquor add a couple tablespoonfuls of boiled rice,
season with salt and pepper and serve. Some of the cold turkey might also
be cut in small pieces and added to the soup.

CREAM OF PEA SOUP
Cook quarter peck of green peas until very tender, reserve one-half cup,
press the remainder through a sieve with the water in which they were
boiled. Season with salt and pepper. Mix 1 tablespoonful of flour, 1
tablespoonful of butter with 1 cup of hot milk. Mix flour smooth with a
little cold milk before heating it. Cook all together a few minutes, then add
the one cup of peas reserved. If soup is too thick add a small quantity of
milk or water.

TOMATO SOUP
One quart of canned tomatoes, 1 tablespoonful sugar, 1 onion, and a sprig
of parsley, cut fine, and 1 carrot and 2 cloves. Stew until soft enough to
mash through a fine, wire sieve. Place one quart of sweet milk on the stove
to boil. Mix 1 large tablespoonful of cornstarch smooth, with a little cold
milk, and stir into the hot milk. Add 1 large tablespoonful of butter and ¼

teaspoonful (good measure) of soda. Let cook one minute, until it thickens,
add 1 teaspoonful of salt. Do not add the milk to the strained tomatoes until
ready to serve. Then serve at once.

FRAU SCHMIDTS CLAM SOUP
Chop 12 clams fine, add enough water to the clam broth to measure one
quart, cook all together about 15 minutes; add 3 pints of scalding hot milk,
season with 1½ tablespoonfuls butter and salt and pepper to taste. Serve
crackers with the soup.

CLAM CHOWDER
Cut ¼ pound of rather "fat" smoked bacon in tiny pieces the size of dice;
fry until brown and crisp. Take 25 fresh clams, after having drained a short
time in a colander, run through a food chopper and place in ice chest until
required. Pour the liquor from the clams into an agate stew-pan; add 6
medium-sized potatoes and 4 medium-sized onions, all thinly sliced; also
add the crisp bits of bacon and fat, which had fried out from the bacon, to
the clam juice. Cook all together slowly or simmer 3 or 4 hours. Add water
to the clam liquor occasionally as required. Ten or fifteen minutes before
serving add 1 cup of hot water and the chopped clams (clam juice if too
strong is liable to curdle milk). Allow clams to cook in the clam broth 10 to
15 minutes. Boil 2 quarts of sweet milk, and when ready to serve add the
hot milk to the chowder, also 1 teaspoonful of chopped parsley. One-half
this quantity will serve a small family. Serve crisp crackers and small
pickels, and this chowder, served with a dessert, makes an inexpensive,
nourishing lunch.

BROWN POTATO CHOWDER

Put a pint of diced, raw potatoes in a stew-pan over the fire, cover with 1
quart of water, to which a pinch of salt has been added. Cook until tender,
but not fine, then add water so that the water in the stew-pan will still
measure one quart should some have boiled away. Place a small iron fry-
part on the range, containing 1 tablespoonful of sweet lard; when melted, it
should measure about 2 tablespoonfuls. Then add 4 tablespoonfuls of flour,
a pinch of salt and stir constantly, or rather mash the flour constantly with a
spoon, being careful not to allow it to scorch, until a rich brown; add this to
the diced potatoes and the quart of water in which they were boiled, stir
until the consistency of thick cream, or like clam chowder. Should there be
a few, small lumps of the browned flour not dissolved in the chowder, they
will not detract from the taste of it; in fact, some are very fond of them.
Perhaps some folks would prefer this, more like a soup; then add more hot
water and thin it, but be careful to add more seasoning, as otherwise it
would taste flat and unpalatable. Very few people know the good flavor of
browned flour. It has a flavor peculiarly its own, and does not taste of lard
at all. I would never advocate any seasoning except butter, but advise
economical housewives to try this, being very careful not to scorch the flour
and fat while browning.
A mixture of butter and lard may be used in which to brown the flour
should there be a prejudice against the use of lard alone.

BEAN CHOWDER
Another palatable, cheap and easily prepared dish is called Bean
Chowder. Small soup beans were soaked over night in cold water. Pour off,
add fresh water and cook until tender. Then add browned flour (same as
prepared for Potato Chowder) and the water in which the beans were
cooked. When ready to serve, the beans were added. More water may be
added until broth is thin enough for soup, then it would be called "brown
bean soup."

BOUILLON
Buy a soup bone, cook with a chopped onion, one stalk of celery and a
sprig of parsley until meat falls from bone. Season with salt and pepper.
Strain the broth into a bowl and stand aside until perfectly cold. Then
remove the cake of fat formed on top of soup and add it to drippings for
frying. The broth may be kept several days if poured into a glass jar and set
on ice. When wanted to serve, heat 1 pint of broth, add 2 tablespoonfuls of
cream to yolks of 2 eggs. Stir well. Pour boiling hot broth over the cream
and yolks of eggs and serve at once in bouillon cups. Serve crackers also.
Do not cook mixture after cream and yolks of eggs have been added. This is
very nourishing.

FARMER'S RICE
One and one-half quarts of milk, poured into a double boiler and placed
on the range to heat. One cup of flour was placed in a bowl; into the flour 1
raw egg was dropped and stirred with a knife until mixed, then rubbed
between the fingers into fine rivels. It may take a little more flour; the rivels
should be dry enough to allow of being rubbed fine. When the milk
commences to boil drop the rivels in by handfuls, slowly, stirring
constantly. Salt to taste. Let cook 15 minutes. Eat while hot, adding a small
piece of butter as seasoning. This should be a little thicker than ordinary
rice soup.

PHILADELPHIA "PEPPER POT"
This recipe for far-famed "Philadelphia Pepper Pot" was given Mary by a
friend living in the Quaker City, a good cook, who vouched for its
excellence:
The ingredients consist of the following:

1 knuckle of veal.

2 pounds of plain tripe.
2 pounds of honeycomb tripe.
1 large onion,
1 bunch of pot-herbs.
4 medium-sized potatoes.
1 bay leaf—salt and cayenne pepper to season.
½ pound of beef suet—and flour for dumplings.

The day before you wish to use the "Pepper Pot" procure 2 pounds of
plain tripe and 2 pounds of honeycomb tripe. Wash thoroughly in cold water
place in a kettle. Cover with cold water and boil eight hours; then remove
tripe from water, and when cold cut into pieces about ¾ of an inch square.
The day following get a knuckle of veal, wash and cover with cold water—
about three quarts—bring slowly to the simmering point, skimming off the
scum which arises, simmer for three hours. Remove the meat from the
bones, cut into small pieces, strain broth and return it to the kettle. Add a
bay leaf, one large onion, chopped, simmer one hour; then add four
medium-sized potatoes, cut like dice, and add to the broth. Wash a bunch of
pot-herbs, chop parsley (and add last), rub off the thyme leaves, cut red
pepper in half and add all to broth; then add meat and tripe and season with
salt; if liked hot, use a pinch of cayenne pepper. For the dumplings, take 1
cup of beef suet, chopped fine, 2 cups flour, pinch of salt, mix well together
and moisten with enough cold water to allow of their being molded or
rolled into tiny dumplings, the size of a small marble. Flour these well to
prevent sticking together. When all are prepared drop into soup, simmer a
few minutes, add parsley and serve at once.

GERMAN VEGETABLE SOUP
Take 6 potatoes, half the quantity of onions, carrots, turnips, cabbage and
a stalk of celery, cut up into dice-shaped pieces, place all in a stew-pan and
cover with a couple quarts of hot water. Let cook about two hours, until all
the vegetables are tender, then add 1 tablespoonful of butter, a large cup of
milk, and about a tablespoonful of flour mixed smooth with a little cold
milk, cook a few minutes, add a tablespoonful minced parsley, and serve.

A CHEAP RICE AND TOMATO SOUP
Take one pint of rice water which has been drained from one cupful of
rice boiled in 2½ quarts of water 25 minutes (the rice to be used in other
ways), and after the rice has drained in a sieve add to the rice water 1 cup
stewed, strained tomatoes (measure after being strained), 1 teaspoonful
butter, 1 teaspoonful flour mixed with a little cold water, salt, pepper, and 1
tablespoonful of the cooked rice, and you have a palatable soup, as the
water in which the rice was boiled is said to be more nutritious than the
rice.

FISH, CLAMS AND OYSTER (BONED SHAD)
How many young cooks know how to bone a shad? It is a very simple
process, and one becomes quite expert after one or two trials. And it fully
repays one for the extra time and trouble taken, in the satisfaction
experienced by being able to serve fish without bones. With a sharp knife
cut the fish open along the back bone on the outside of the fish, but do not
cut through the bone, then carefully cut the fish loose along the back bone
on each side, cut the centre bone away with the smaller bones branching out
on each side attached. Cut the shad into sizable pieces after being washed in
cold water and dried on a cloth to take up all the moisture. Dip pieces of
fish into white of egg containing a teaspoonful of water, roll in fine, dried
bread crumbs, season with salt and pepper, drop in hot fat, and fry a rich
brown. Serve on a platter, surrounded by a border of parsley.
Some small portions of the fish will adhere to the bones, however
carefully the fish has been boned. The meat may be picked from the bones
after cooking in salt water until tender. Flake the fish, and either make it
into small patties or croquettes.
Shad roe should be parboiled first and then dredged with flour on both
sides and fried in drippings or a little butter.

CROQUETTES OF COLD, COOKED FISH
Shred or flake cold, cooked fish, which has been carefully picked from
bones. To 2 cups of fish add an equal amount of mashed potatoes, a small
half cup of cold milk, 1 tablespoonful butter, yolk of 1 egg, lightly beaten, 1
teaspoonful of chopped parsley, season with salt and pepper. Mix all well
together, and when cold, form in small croquettes. Dip into white of egg
containing 1 tablespoonful of water, roll in fine, dried bread crumbs and fry
in hot fat. Shad, salmon, codfish, or any kind of fish may be prepared this
way, or prepare same as "Rice Croquettes," substituting-fish for rice.

SHAD ROE
Shad roe should be carefully taken from the fish, allowed to stand in cold
water, to which a pinch of salt has been added, for a few minutes, then
dropped in boiling water, cooked a short time and drained. Dredge with
flour and fry slowly in a couple tablespoonfuls of butter and lard or
drippings until a golden brown. Be particular not to serve them rare. Serve
garnished with parsley.
Or the shad roe may be parboiled, then broken in small pieces, mixed
with a couple of lightly beaten eggs and scrambled in a fry-pan, containing
a couple of tablespoonfuls of butter and sweet drippings. Serve at once.
Garnish with parsley or water cress.

SCALLOPED OYSTERS
Take about 50 fresh oysters. Place a layer of oysters in a baking dish
alternately with fine, dried crumbs, well seasoned with pepper and salt and
bits of butter, until pan is about two-thirds full. Have a thick layer of bread
crumbs for the top, dotted with bits of butter. Pour over this half a cup or