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Bill of Fare

Tea, Brown Bread.

Ham.

Crackers.

Preserved Strawberries.

Cheese Sandwiches.

Whipped Cream.

Now, it must be remembered, that in this arrangement, the bread was at hand ready to slice; the ham was boiled, ready to cut; and the strawberries ready in the little glass can to be opened. There remained, therefore, jumbles and tea to make, and the cheese sandwiches to prepare. Following mamma's advice, they first undertook the jumbles, of which they were to make but half the recipe. They selected for this "Excellent Jumbles," in the HOME COOK BOOK, and while Jennie held the book and read the ingredients, Annie collected them together. Thus: one-half a cup of butter, one cup of sugar, and one-half cup of cream, and one-half teaspoon of soda. When Jennie came to the one egg of the recipe, they had some trouble how they should manage to make it half an egg; but after consultation with mamma, they concluded to vary from the given rule, and put the whole egg in. Then Jennie read on : "A little nutmeg; flour enough to stiffen it, so as to bake in rings; bake quickly."

The flour was sifted; the butter and sugar first creamed together by Annie, while Jennie beat the yoke of the egg, and added it to the creamed sugar and butter; then they put in the nutmeg, the cream and the soda; then the beaten white of the egg, and the sifted flour; then they put the jumbles into the buttered rings and baked them. As the oven was quick and hot, I am happy to say these jumbles were a success. In taking them out of the tins when done, they did not pile them on one another, but placed them carefully about on a large plate to cool. Then the little housekeepers made the tea, according to the directions in the Cook Book, and also the cheese sandwiches, which were a complete success. The cutting of the bread was a difficult task, since to be nice the slices should be even and thin, but it was managed nevertheless with patience and care. When all was ready, the cream nicely whipped, the strawberries put in the preserve dish, the little round table in mamma's room drawn out, and the luncheon arranged, they were just ready to sit down to enjoy the fruits of their labour, what should they hear but Bridget's voice at the door. So it came to pass, that with the luncheon ended for this time the practical experiments of our little housekeepers. But it all goes to prove that, if we live with our eyes open, we shall all of us find that, with such help as our Home Cook Book, we shall be ready for those emergencies which come to big as well as the little housekeepers, when Bridget is not at hand. "My opinion of a kitchen?" said Susan, in a tone, with a glance, and a wave of her fork that spoke unwritten volumes, as she translated the perfection of fried cakes from the frying kettle to a tin colander to drain; "My opinion of a kitchen? Well, that would vary somewhat with the mansion that contained it. In any case, however, it would be the pleasantest room in the house, if I had the ordering of things."

The queen of our kitchen said this with a half smile and a half apology, as she continued: "It makes a good deal of difference, you know, to one who is to spend the best part of her time there. I often think that many people with whom money is no object, have very limited ideas of their responsibilities when it comes to the servant's quarter in the houses they build, with all they may have of modern improvements and conveniences. "I have no conceit of those fine houses," said she, with considerable asperity of manner, " with not a room in it but where a regiment might meander comfortably about among the furniture but the kitchen, which is only large enough for the range, the sink, the ironing table, and the - cook. Neither for my part, could I ever see what those people are thinking about who do not keep servants, and where the mistress expects to do her own work, who allows, of all rooms in the house, her kitchen to be built a dark little box of a place, prevaded with the sole idea of work. Of work, too, without one gleam of cheerfulness about it, and from which every one who enters escapes with a glad feeling of relief. For my part," she continued, "I don't see why making fried cakes, and baking biscuit, and washing dishes, might not be made as bright and attractive as, well, as any thing else one has to do in the way of house work. “ My opinion of a kitchen, 'as is a kitchen,' is one with room enough about for the many little things and comforts that give it a home-like look; a 'living room,' as we used to call our kitchen in the old home. For instance this comes the nearest my idea of it; always excepting that," she said, with a gratified glance around at the pretty clock on its pretty bracket, and the newspaper rack, (for Susan enjoyed the papers,) at the various nicknacks, and the landscapes, and home views, which Susan prized far above the costly conventional fruit and game pieces on the dining room walls. And then Susan's glance wandered, with a pleased softened look to the sunny window, with its geranium pots and hanging basket, near which the most cheerful of canaries in his cage made all the air melodious with song. Here, also, stood an easy chair inviting rest for those moments of waiting upon work which so often occur, and near it a stand with drawers for all sorts of little treasures which contained all of fancy work in which Susan ever indulged, "That easy chair, and that window, are great comforts to me," she resumed. "Now, if there was but one window to my kitchen, and the sink before that, as I see in so many kitchens, if I had to take refuge in a stiffbacked chair in a dark corner or the middle of the room where I could reach out and touch the walls all around while I was waiting for the biscuit to rise, or the cake was baking, as I sat there glaring at some dark melancholy paper, instead of this bright cheerful tint of gray, with its hints of rose and violet, and then with the wood-work about, of an ugly, dingy blue, or mud coloured brown, instead of this bright-grained wood, with gleams of sunshine in it on the darkest days, and that is so easy to keep clean and is as pretty as a picture. I think if this was that kind of a kitchen, I would run away with the milkman some bright morning-I actually think I would." This is a standing joke of our Susan's, but one nevertheless that brings fear and consternation in our household whenever it is revived. "I suppose I was spoiled for that sort of thing in my early days," said she, meditatively, with a look in her eyes that went out for the moment, "over the hills and far away," to the kitchen, where we first found our Susan. It was a wide, long room-so wide and long that the dresser and clock and tables and large old-fashioned furniture that stood here and there, never intruded themselves, but in large, comely, decorous, but uncompromising dignity, formed each a part of the harmonious whole. There was an indescribable charm about it, always orderly, always bright and the centre of a home-life where its duties went on in that easy cheerful way, a pleasure both to sight and sense. About its many windows, all the summer time, the roses clambered in sweet confusion, and through which the scent : of the fragrant sweet-briar came floating in, with the song of the woodland birds and the pleasant farm sounds, and a vision of the far away hills, in their ever varying beauty of light and shadow; while within, in conscious enjoyment of it all, was Susan, stepping merrily about, making custard pies, or folding the fragrant linen, fresh from the line, for the morrow's ironing But the prettiest picture of that old kitchen was of a winter evening, when the winds blew furiously without, of the grand old fire-place, with its heaping wood fire, over which on the crane the kettle hung, humming and singing, and sending up the chimney white clouds of steam, while before it stood the tin baker which held the rich juicy roast, or the light snowy biscuit, the like of which never came out of any range that ever was, or will be invented; while the fire lighted up the fine old room with a rich warm glow, as Susan set the table with its snowy linen and polished ware, and golden butter, and luscious honey in the comb, and all those charming fancies she knew so well how to prepare. And to complete the picture, the comfortable easy chairs by the fire where the grandmother sat in placid enjoyment with her knitting, and not very far away, the father, tired with the work of the day, giving himself to the rest and comforts of the evening hour. This is the picture that rose so vividly before me, but which had faded all too suddenly from our Susan's past.

Ah, well! said she, after a time coming out of her reverie with a little sigh and back again, to her opinion of a kitchen. "It is not all of life to live"-making a hap-hazard selection from her small stock of poetical fancies, but checking herself before reaching the concluding lines of this stanza. "My opinion," she said, with a sudden change of tone and manner as she sniffed the air-is-that until some contrivance is invented to carry out all the steam, smoke, and smell of frying, that with all my care, and in spite of windows, and doors, and ventilators, will hang about my kitchen, the millenium won't come; and if it does, I shan't be in it."

As she said this, we looked around, and there stood the Pater. And we knew by the look in his eyes that he had heard these words of Susan's. And thus it will happen, that the Pater who is a born inventor, but who in the hurry and worry of business life has limited opportunities for the indulgence of this natural bent of his genius, will seize upon this idea with the pretext of a duty, and with which he will retire to the depths of his inner consciousness, there to evolve some strange contrivance hereafter to assume form and shape for the comforting of "Our Susan's" kitchen.