Living on a Little

s-Cooking-Dresses-

is boys first to spell 'bot-tin-ney,' and then go and weed the garden to prove that the lesson had been learned? That's my principle, exactly. So now as to to-day's work; I have been thinking it over and I believe we

suppose," said Do

r a long time yet. Firs

g some questions. One of them is this: do you always look as neat and trim wh

took off my apron, and answered it. It was not long before I discovered that my sleeves were perpetually mussed, and I had temporarily lost my self-respect by dispensing with a collar. Then, too, in spite of all I could do, the dish-water would sometimes splash over and the lower part of my dress would get greasy. I spoiled two good tailor-skirts that way. And worst of all, when Dick came home, all I could do by way of dressing to

ne to help but Dick. So I changed my plans of work and got some especial gowns, and I have kept to a sort of uniform like this ev

re Dutch neck just below the collar line, so you won't have to wear a collar; and a short, full skirt, j

ds edged with a fold of white, or some similar contrivance. I put an apron on when I do kitchen work and try and keep the dresses clean as long as I can, and when they are soiled put them right in the tub, and they take no time to do up. And, by the way, they are not a

e same thing su

ey are all made like this. Even my dress-up summer things are apt to be, to

e every afternoon now to a more or less dress-up frock. Is tha

noon like a lady of leisure. At dinner-time I put a mammoth long-sleeved apron on and go out in the kitchen and finish up as I am; I take off my apron before the dinner is served, too. If

water around the edge of th

ff the floor, and put on the big apron. As to the dish-water, Dolly, to let you into an awful secret which would make our New England grandmother turn in her grave, I never do any dishes at night; that is part of the lesson I told you I had mastered. I just clear the table, scrape the things and pil

t the breakfast-

ing at night. Then I have more important things to think of; books to read and friends to see and a husband to en

is subject. How do you have such a pretty table all the time and still economize in everything, in

e with a fern-dish, or stop cleaning the silver. I call it all bad management. One can keep up the traditions of niceness just as easily as to dispense with them, and to my mind it is false economy to let down. If you must have plain food, it tastes better, and I believe it nourishes you more, if it is set out attractively. No, Dolly, never give up using your pretty dis

re those doilies, always clean and white, and your pretty blue and whi

, and it is ready for next time. When they all need a regular boiling, I put a set in the weekly wash, and the laundress does them in far less time than she would a tablecloth. For dinner of course I do use a cloth, but having it on only once a day it lasts a week, and there is but one in the wa

the c

would chip in the hands of some maids, I suppose, but I am careful of it. If I had a maid who broke things I would get other and

n do you clea

hat keeps it bright a long time. Then usually I polish it all o

ery uncomfortable. I supposed they put on a dinner-cloth in the morning and kept the table set most of the day, and saved steps by having on all the

ressing, the plates and crackers; put the dessert there, too, with its plates, and the coffee-cups and spoons. Have ready there also extra bread and butter, if necessary, and fill the water-pitcher before the meal i

d serving-table on casters close by your side at the table. You can put the plates on this if you can easily reach them, as you can if you have a small round table for two, and if your n

you like it better than the old way

ore dinner, and when we are ready it is there, r

which people never dream who have always had maids to

things about having dinner at night, for that is one of my hobbies. I believe it is by f

don't think

t hurry and do up the dishes and get the house in order; go to market as early as possible, in order that the food may come home in good season; come back, make dessert, lay the dinner-table, and as soon as your orders arrive, clean the vegetables, put the meat on to cook, and generally prepare the meal. If it is ready by half-past twe

you can decide to get something simple and prepare it just before lunch. Next you go down-town and market in a leisurely manner, because you are not in a desperate rush to get the things home. When you return you prepare the dinner; put the soup-meat and bones in the fireless stove to cook, or make a milk soup to reheat; ma

go out, or rest in any way you like, and at five or half-past, at the earliest, you put the final touches to the dinner and lay the table. Afterwards, as I have said, you pile the dishes in the dish-pan in a nice, tidy way, and your day's w

at night to the end of the chapter. You might have added to your other reasons for having it than t

hat in its favor as well as the ease and comfort of

should think you would take up b

rtant; for another, as the two lighter meals are largely made up of left-overs from

se. Go on, then,

vegetables, with perhaps a solid pudding or pie to follow, and eliminate all frills and fashions of service. To them the plan of a three-course dinner every day is a wild vagary, not to be considered by people living on a little; but really it is the truest economy. Look at the French; I have to point to them over

e appears, instead of demanding two helpings, one will probably suffice. Now as meat is your most expensive item of housekeeping, you can easily see what an advantage that is. Soups are very wholesome, and

ot for you. In their place you must have all sorts of queer things, which you would naturally call luncheon or supper dishes. It seems strange and unpleasant, doesn't it? But that is the way it has to be if you are to be a good manager. However, here is a grain of comfort for you: men seldom pay much attention to details; to

ean we are never

my third rule, no less important than the other two: Never use up the meat from one day's dinner for breakfast or luncheon, but always save

meat for dinner. The second night you have the other half in a meat pie, with any gravy you do not need you put in the stock-pot. Now, incidentally, let me say that sometimes l

s less and goes farther than two smaller ones. You can buy a pound and a half of chopped beef and make two meals of it for less th

ld not like Hamburg ste

, perhaps veal; Wednesday night we have the rest of the steak in another way from the way we had it Monday night, and Thursday night we finish up the veal, also in a dif

, or the man eats more than you expected he

he first day's dinner I have perhaps English rissoles; or I have a

at. Or, I have croquettes; they are one of the queer dishes apparently out of place at dinner, but they are good and make a change, and when you have only a little meat they

inner for a hungry man? I have an idea they wo

With corned beef you can have a thin stock, clear; but with croquettes have a rich, substantial bean soup or split pea purée, and have solid vegetables with the meat and a

have fish

there were a river near by, or a lake, I should find out what they caught there and buy that. One day I have the fish as it comes from market, baked or fried, or otherwise prepared; the next day I have the remains scalloped with crumbs and baked. Sometimes I have them in cream sauce, baked i

about the vegetables and sala

e come to them. Just now I am laying down principles, you see, and I was speaking of courses at dinner when you diverted me wit

light course to follow; have a light soup with a heavy meat;

But have three courses,-that is the economic point I am striving for,-and have coffee last, if you can. Men love coffee for

are piling up for me to w

es no more steps to do it then than it will later. After dinner at night there should be only the few dishes actually in use on the table; if, possibly, you cannot manage to wash up your broiler or frying-pan because you use them at t

ly inquired, seeing her siste

to keep house than you do now. If you always are neat and look attractive, if you always serve a delightful course

at the end now,

her you get along, as I have told you before. Long before you know it all you will be sighing f

are a finished housekeepe