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For Woman’s Work.
THAT TRUNK.
ELLICE T. BERTON.
• I cannot tell you where it began.
Where do the threads of our life begin
anyway ?
But it began somewhere, I suppose; at
any rate, it was there now—this trouble
some trait aunt Hattie had been showing
up so plainly.
“I cannot avoid it any more, no matter
how much I dislike facing it,” thought Ada
with a little inward shrug.
And this was what the trouble was. A
way back in her early childhood, as long
ago as she could remember, Ada had been
given to taking up every new idea that
came in her waj, often to the detriment of
former occupations. As she grew older,
the same trait was manifested in her stud
ies. Becoming interested in some point of
history, she would plunge into the study
with a zeal that knew no bounds, until,per
haps, some scientific discovery was present
ed to her intellectual vision, when history
would be set aside, and geology, astronomy,
or whatever it might be, would take its
place, to be in turn pursued with enthu
siasm until that too was replaced by a still
later idea. It was the same with fancy
work or social pursuits. Yet Ada wasn’t
fickle or shoddy. Far from it. She had
the reputation, and deservedly so, of great
perseverence and thoroughness in whatever
she undertook. The trouble was, she under
took too much. Naturally ambitious and
energetic, she accomplished wonders while
her interest lasted, but the effort to keep
always ahead of the times, was too much
for anyone’s brain or physical capacity, and
something must suffer in the race. Ada
honestly intended to renew all these laid
asides some day.
“Some day! ” How many a busy, tired
woman throughout the land has found her
heart echoing these words.
But Ada had an awakening.
Some two years before our sketch opens,
she had been deeply impressed by a little
story, read at random in some child’s paper,
of a young boy just starting out in life with
the determination to “be something, ” who
decided that his first step toward that end
was to learn how to stick to one purpose
until accomplished—and as a means toward
this end, resolved to finish all bits of partial
ly completed work lying around his home.
Ada was, as 1 have said, much impressed
with this story, and again and again, had
it recurred to her as she stepped from one
interest to another. But there were so
many urgent calls on her time and atten
tion,that her good resolutions,like her work,
were laid aside to be considered some day,
when a more convenient season should ar
rive. Matters were in this state when her
aunt Hattie came to make them a long vis
it. Aunt Hattie was a plain, quiet, little
old lady, who had spent the greater part
of her life in a country village. Neverthe
less she had a keen intuition and was an
excellent judge of human nature. More
over, Ada was her favorite niece—so it was
not many days before she saw the error
into which the young girl was drifting, and
immediately set about seeking a remedy.
One rainy morning her opportunity came.
Ada, unable by reason of the storm to at
tend to other interests, was beguiled into a
cosy chat, regarding her aims and work.
Finally her aunt said,“Ada, my dear, your
motives are good, excellent; but unless you
change from your present course, you will
never reach your goal.” “Why auntie!
what do you mean?” was Ada’s startled
exclamation. Here was her chance; and a
long talk followed, in which aunt Hattie
endeavored to show her niece how promi
nent was this trait of procrastination, and
what it would eventually lead to. She
touchedupon several incidents that hadcome
under her notice during her visit, and her
serious, plain words swept away the filmy
veil that had so long hung over the girl’s
mind, enabling her to see for herself what
HEN RY W, G RAD
In the June number the NEW ENGLAND Magazine prints an elegantly illustrated article on the “Early Home of
Grady,” by T. Remsen Crawford, of the “Athens Banner.” Among twelve or fifteen illustrations, are two
delightful portraits of Grady, as a boy and as a young man. Two of his letters are reproduced
in sac simile which were written at the age of seven years. Every one will be interested
to see this article. It is but one of a series of articles on Southern subjects now being published in the
New England Magazine. 1 ake advantage of this offer and see if you are not glad that you saw this advertisement.
TO READERS OF WOMAN’S WORK,
Three numbers, as a trial, for 23 CEMTS.
Address: MEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE CO., BOSTON. MASS.
she really was. “Remember this my dear”
said her aunt in conclusion, “in whatever
sphere you may be placed, whatever you
may undertake, no two duties ever conflict.”
Ada went out with these words ringing in
her ears. As she was a thoughtful and
sincere girl, the conversation clung to her,
and the more she pondered, the deeper ap
peared the truths uttered. It was not many
days after the talk, that Ada appeared in
her aunt’s room with a little card ,bearing
the words in fancy lettering, “No two du
ties ever conflict.”
“You see,” she explained laughingly, “I
have adopted your motto. But auntie,”
after a moments pause,“l don’t really know
where to begin.” “Why not begin on the
old trunk? ” was the quiet rejoinder. “The
old trunk ! ” and Ada started. Here was a
solution of the problem, unthought of be
fore.
, This trunk had for years past been the
receptacle of the various pieces of fancy
work laid aside to be finished some day, and
was now nearly full. Surely her aunt did
not mean for her to undertake this. But
that she did, was evident from her next
words. “It will give you a tangible object
and will prove an excellent discipline.
Take the articles one at a time until the
trunk is emptied. It will take time I know,
but lam sure you will never regret it. Be
sides, there has been considerable money
spent on these things, first avdlast. Does
it seem quite right to throw it all away,
when some one might be benefitted—even
if you no longer care for the articles your
self.” Ada was silent. This view of the
case was anew one. “But auntie,” after
another pause, “they are all out of fashion
now. Why some of the things must have
lain there five years or more,” and she
blushed at her own confession.
“Yes I know,” was the gentle reply.
“Still I would finish everything and devote
them to some purpose. A little ingenuity
wil], no doubt, enable you to make some of
the articles conform to present fashion,
while the rest can at least gladden •some
poorer home, not blessed with so; many i
pretty things as to be particular about the i
latest fashion. Keep your eyes open and
you will find away to use them.”
Aunt Hattie’s visit came to an end a few
days later, and after she was gone, Ada re-1
solved to put her good resolutions to aprac- ■
tical test. Tacking up her little card where
she could see it daily, she made a visit to
the old trunk. What a conglomeration I
there was, to be sure; and how many mem- |
ories were called up by the sight. “I do i
not see that I can do any better than to
take them just as they come,” thought Ada,
after half an hour’s inspection. And suit
ing the action to the word, she placed the
articles neatly in the trunk, leaving the
last one, which proved to be a rug, as
the object of her first attempt in the new
regime. By a strange coincidence, as Ada '
thought, this rug had been given her by
aunt Hattie, some four years previous, and
Ada had started out to work it, after a fan
cy peculiarly her own. Either the mate
rials or the inclination had given out, and
the rug was consigned to the old trunk.
It was stamped burlaps, showing a curly
dog on a cushion, while at either side was
a border of flowers and scroll work. In
stead of using rags, she had worked the
cushion, hangings and border in coarse
knitting yarn, cross stitch. The dog was
worked in long stitch of carpet ravelling,
giving a woolly effect, and was about half
finished. The background, which she had
originally purposed to fill in with slate
grey yarn, was untouched. The cushion
was of deep, electric blue; the hangings,
which formed a background for the dog, of
dark red and orange, while the dog was in
browns. The border was of a medium red
and dark bronze green.
Ada’s first step was to complete the dog.
Being unable to find any suitable carpet
ravel)ings, she decided to use mother wit
a little. Among- her odds and ends she
found some coarse brown yarn. This was
knit into a strip, dampened, pressed and
laid aside for a few days. On being ravell
ed it was found to be quite the thing, and
doggie was soon completed. Instead of
working the background according to her
first intention, Ada used rags of neutral
tints. The rug was then lined with drill
ing and finished with a border of worsted
fringe at either end. It was so bright and
pretty, that Ada at once found a place for
it in her own room. “Well,” thought the
girl as she surveyed it, “that has saved my
buying a new one at any rate, and was not
such very hard work either.”
The next donation from the old trunk,
was a piece of pink saxony edging—little
more than begun. This was to have adorn
ed a dressing sack designed as a Xmas
gift for a friend the year before; but, not
being completed in time, had been turned
over to the old trunk.
“I wish I knew how to turn it into a
Christmas gift for next year,” thought Ada.
Then she clapped her hands —she had an
idea. Taking a note book and pencil, she
made a list of those whom she wished to re
member at Yule-tide. What a list there
was, twenty-one names in all. Why not
turn some of these things to account? ‘‘l’ll
do it if I can. Then I won’t be rushed to
death at the last minute, as I generally am;
to say nothing of the expense, for it is ever
so much easier to spend a little here and
there, than to have it all at once. I won
der what I can use this edging for, it is so
pretty,” and she turned once more to her
list. “Baby May, that is it!” was her next
exclamation, as her eye ran over the names.
“Cousin Jennie never has time nowadays
for making pretty things, and she does love
to see May daintily dressed. I’ll get some
pink and grey striped tennis flannel and
make a little skirt. It will not cost much,
and I can add something else between now
and Christmas.”
So the edging was finished, the flannel
purchased, and ere long Ada had the satis
faction of laying away a dainty little Christ
mas package labeled “Baby May.”
Then came a number of little things from
the depths of the old trunk. A key rack,
or rather the clothes pins, destined to form
one. These were already painted; one a
deep orange, the other alight yellow. Ada
now gave them a coat of copal varnish,
crossed them in the form of the letter X,
fastened three brass hooks at the ends and
intersections, and finished with a yard each
of orange and yellow ribbon, by which to
suspend the rack. This was also destined
for her own room
Then came a match safe of two silvered
eggshells on a shield, laid aside to be
mounted. Ada secured a cigar box cover,
covered one side with bronze-green plush—
a piece of last year’s dress carefully steamed
and brushed—on which she embroidered in
outline stitch, with rope silk, a spray of
apple blossoms. Then she fastened" the
match safe in the center; lined the board
with a piece of pink sateen, and finished
with a loop and bow of ribbon at the top.
This effort so pleased Ada that sue made a
key rack to correspond, choosing two clothes
pins, and painting one bronze-green, the
other pink. When dry, she painted a
spray of eyebrights on the darker pin, and
finished with silver hooks and ribbon as in
the yellow rack. The match-safe and key
rack were then labeled -‘Christmas” also,
and laid on the shelf set aside for this pur
pose, while another name was checked
from her list.
A centennial penwiper came next, fol
lowed by two or three fancy pin balls,
needlebooks and blotters. These too, foun d
a place among the Christmas packages
Ada spared no pains to make each article’
as dainty as possible, but it all took time,
and fully two months had passed since her
aunt Hattie’s visit.
Often indeed had come the temptation
to yield to her old impulses and take up
something new. But the girl’s underlying
good sense, and strong will, conquered,"and
she steadily adhered to her purpose. The
trunk did not seem to grow much lighter,
but then, “I am a few things ahead,” said
the girl, “and I have a start towards Christ
mas.” So she once more turned her atten
tion to the old trunk. This time the ob
ject brought to light, made her groan in
spirit.
[To be continued.]
For Woman’s Work.
YEAST AND BREAD MAKING.
I voluntarily promised the readers of
Woman’s Work something on the subject
of graham bread, but sometimes promises
are more easily made than kept.
I will tell you first of my yeast recipe,
which I consider one of the very best. It
is easily made and will keep until it is all
used up, if kept in a reasonably cool
place.
YEAST STOCK.
Take a quart of good hops, put them in a
bright tin vessel, and pour on them three
pints of boiling water. Let them steep for
fifteen or twenty minutes, or until the in
fusion is very bitter. Have ready in an
other vessel, a tablespoon each of salt and
very brown sugar. Strain the hop liquor
on the salt and sugar. Let it cool until
luke-warm, then add a teacup of flour or
shorts, stir until the yeast is free from
lumps—then bottle, filling the bottles halt
full. Cork securely, and set in a warm
place. Shake the bottles every day until
the yeast becomes white, like milk; "in four
or five days the corks will pop out of the
bottles if you are not careful. It will then
be fit for use. You will know by the wav
the yeast foams, and air bubbles continually
come up from the bottom, when it has fer
mented sufficiently. Set it in a cool, dark
place.
If you do not care to wait for the yeast
to generateits own life, add a few spoonfuls
of any good yeast, when you add the flour.
It will be ready for use in twenty-four
hours.
This yeast can be used to make bread,
either with or without potatoes. If you
use potatoes, take about a pint of them after
they are mashed, pass them through a col
ander—put about a quart of boiling water
to a teacup of flour, stir the flour and pota
toes to a smooth paste. Let cool until just
luke-warm; then stir*in about a gill of the
yeast, being careful to shake it up well be
fore taking it from the bottle. Set it in a
warm place to rise. In about six hours it
will be ready to mix into a sponge in the
usual way, by adding more warm.
and flour; let this sponge
twelve hours. Be very
sponge from getting chille<T®|
your bread will not be good?*®
not how good your yeast and
the process of fermentation is
the sponge or the dough getting too cold/
you cannot have good bread; the same can
be said of hastening the process of fermen
tation by letting the sponge or dough get
too warm. In winter, I mix my sponge
in the evening, set it near the stove and
wrap the vessel containing it, in several
thicknesses of cloth. Add a little salt,
sugar and lard, to the sponge, and flour to
make a dough stiff enough to knead. Add
the flour a handful at a time. When the
dough is sufficiently stiff, turn it out on the
moulding board and knead for awhile. A
good way to tell when it has been worked
enough, is to make a dent in the dough by
striking it with the hand; if the dent
quickly disappears, it has been kneaded
sufficiently.
If you wish to make graham bread, set
the sponge as for white bread, with white
flour; then mix it up stiff with graham,
putting in a little molasses and lard. Make
the dough very moist and knead but very
little; mix the graham flour in, a handful
at a time.
When it is of the proper consistency,
divide into loaves, put into well greased
pans, and set in a warm place to rise. I
think the bread is sweeter if only one loaf
is put into each pan. C. V. S.
California.