Part 6

For instance, I know one housekeeper who was transplanted from the South to another section of the country, and who there became famous for the meals she served from her mother’s cook-book. Fried chicken with cream gravy, Southern sweet-potatoes, beaten biscuit, Sally Lunn, waffles, fried oysters, batter-bread, syllabubs, were among the dainties she offered her appreciative guests. Not that she had all these at one time, but she rang the changes on them, to the delectation of the company.

Another woman I know who was born and raised in New England made a success much farther south than this by feasting her friends on such delicacies as genuine baked beans, cooked in a bean-pot (she made the fireless cooker take the place of the ancient brick oven), Boston brown bread--she called it “rye ’n’ Injun”--fried pork with cream gravy, even creamed codfish and boiled potatoes, made to taste as no one had ever before dreamed such things could taste. Of course doughnuts and coffee were included in her menus, and pumpkin-pies and other dishes of that sort. It was amusing and, in a way, pathetic to see the joy of the exiles from New England before whom were placed the viands they had been used to in the long-ago.

The simplicity of the provision should not be made an excuse for departing from the orthodox methods of service. A supper such as I have described can be served with as much daintiness as a formal dinner, and the courses should follow one another in as orderly a style.

As strict in the lines of its etiquette as a dinner is the lunch, where usually women are the only guests. Such a meal as this may also be limited in its items. It may begin with bouillon or soup in cups and, without pausing for an entrée, may go directly on to a solid course, such as chicken in some form, chops, cutlets, and the like, with a vegetable or two; this be followed by a salad with crackers and cheese, and the meal wind up with a sweet of light character, and coffee. When one has a well-enough trained maid to introduce such an entrée as oyster pâtés, crab meat _au gratin_, eggs _à la Bénédictine_, or something of the kind, and can reconcile the extra cost to her economical conscience, the guests will probably enjoy the additional provision, but no hostess can feel she is guilty of social stinginess if she omits these features and follows the simpler lines.

The same caution may be given here as with the dinner--to introduce no novelties for the first time. Use the family as an experiment station before presenting the new dishes or the untried fashion of serving them to outsiders.

Like the luncheon is the breakfast-party, with this difference--that men are frequently invited to the latter, while they are seldom at the formal luncheon. For such a breakfast, to be served at twelve-thirty or one, the first item may be fruit; the soup may be omitted and the meat course, consisting of some such dish as broiled or fried chicken, chops or steak or fish, should be accompanied by a good hot bread as well as by potatoes daintily cooked; and coffee in large cups may be served the same time. A sweet to wind up a meal like this is rather out of place unless it takes the form of waffles or griddle-cakes of a delicate variety with maple syrup or honey. Sometimes the breakfast concludes as it began, with fruit, although of a different kind from that with which the meal opened. When oranges or grapefruit prelude the repast, grapes, etc., may end it.

All these affairs I have mentioned are for a small number. The afternoon tea is the best method of entertaining guests on a larger scale, and with a minimum of expense.

I do not need to go here into the details of sending out cards for such an affair. Whether the tea be a single one, given for the amiable purpose of wiping out social obligations, or as a means of introducing a visitor to the local friends of the hostess; or a series of three or four afternoons, the method followed is the same and the guest who comes expects nothing beyond a light refreshment. At the more elaborate affairs of this sort coffee or chocolate may be served as well as tea, or a bowl of punch offered. The edible provisions are always practically the same and cover a range of sandwiches of different kinds--piquant, solid, and sweet--varied by toast buttered plain or sprinkled with cinnamon, hot scones, small buttered biscuit and similar cates, followed by cakes of various kinds, plain or fancy, and in some cases bonbons and salted nuts. The last are not really necessary.

At such a tea as this, if it comprise more than a few intimates, the maid is usually in attendance to open the door, direct the guests to the drawing-room, bring hot tea or hot water when needed, remove soiled cups and perhaps pass the food. In the latter service the hostess may have the aid of her friends, who usually appreciate the honor of being asked to “pour” or to help act as hostesses in introducing new-comers, looking after the comfort of strangers and making sure that no one is neglected in the distribution of refreshments.

Thus far reference has been made to hospitality exercised in the home where a maid is kept. Far more numerous are those establishments in which no regular service is employed. Even in these one’s friends may be entertained as delightfully, if not as formally, as in the houses supplied with hired domestics.

The regulation dinner is practically out of the question, and it is wiser not to attempt it. But merry informal suppers, luncheons, and breakfasts can be compassed and often these are greater successes than those parties given under the supervision of a staff of trained servants. The main point to be guarded against is the attempt at anything which cannot be put through well. As soon as struggle is made to do the impossible the effort becomes not only a burden to the host and hostess, but a sort of nightmare to the guests. Better have a roast-oyster party in the kitchen, where selected members of the company do the cooking over the gas-stove, while others take upon themselves the responsibility of serving the eaters, and the whole affair is a jolly picnic, than to endeavor to manage a stately function with insufficient aid and appurtenances.

The same sort of informality may mark the afternoon-tea party in the home where no maid is kept. All the making ready can be done in advance, the sandwiches cut and piled, the cakes arranged, the china and tea equipage set out, so that nothing is needed but to start the kettle to boiling and make the tea when it is needed. A friend will preside at the tea-table, other friends will look after other details and leave the hostess free to welcome and entertain her guests. Such a party as this is one of the pleasantest, least costly, and generally satisfactory ways of gathering one’s friends about one for a social hour or two.

The hostess of small means and no maid should concentrate upon some such line of entertaining as this and stick to it. She should aspire to become known for her merry afternoon teas, her pleasant Sunday-night suppers, her gay and informal after-theater spreads, where the chafing-dish is the principal feature and where her guests are so well amused that they think far less of the simple food put before them than they do of the good-fellowship they have enjoyed. Formal entertaining may have to be foregone, but the substitutes she offers are more genuinely satisfactory both to the guests who share them and to the host and hostess who have to pay for them!

X

THE CHILD IN THE HOUSE

With the introduction of a baby into an establishment the whole general management of the place is changed.

That is to say, it is changed for a while. A serious mistake is made when even so important an event as the arrival of a new member of the family is permitted to cause a permanent alteration in the conduct of the home. The most devoted of husbands and fathers will yield his position as first-and-foremost for a while to the latest advent; will take it for granted that his wife shall be absorbed in the needs of the baby, shall have no conversation but that which deals with its joys and woes, its accidents and accomplishments; but eventually any man worth a row of pins will recollect that after all he was a human being, a husband, and a householder before he was a parent, and will claim a few of the rights coming to him in those capacities.

The prospective mother who grasps this truth and puts it into practical service after the baby comes is much more likely to make a success of her wifehood and matronhood than the one who is all mother and nothing else. If the child is well and is properly trained there is no reason why it should not be a satisfactory member of society and a joy to the household and to all about it instead of a nuisance to every one except its most devoted parent.

A great deal more of the comfort of the child and its future good habits is settled within the first month of its life than is suspected by those who have had little to do with the care of babies. If it is started with regular habits of eating and sleeping, is from the beginning accustomed to lie in its cradle or crib instead of being held in the arms constantly and lifted and rocked at its first whimper, it takes such treatment for granted and forms no habit of making demands for that which is difficult for the attendant always to supply and does no good to the child to receive.

With a delicate or sickly babe the same strict rules cannot be enforced as with a healthy infant, and yet even a puny child is better off if kept to a steady regimen than if fed, taken up, and put down at uncertain intervals, and allowed to accumulate a crop of irregular fashions of eating and sleeping. Sometimes the struggle to implant a sense of law and order is a difficult undertaking when the ill health of the child or the carelessness of the first nurse has brought it into bad ways, but persistence in the effort is worth while for the sake of the comfort success is bound to bring later to all concerned.

The periods of feeding are determined by the doctor, to begin with, and the space between them is gradually widened as the child grows older. The system which should be the guide of the housekeeper in her home has as large a field of usefulness applied to children as anywhere else. The baby should be washed and dressed at a regular hour; the time for its meals and its outing should be invariable; the hour for undressing it, washing it, and making it ready for bed should never vary except in cases of rare exigency. If it is a healthy child it will fall naturally into the habit of taking a morning nap after the bath and the meal, of waking at a certain time, and then of lying comfortably in the bed or on a couch or in its carriage with no wails to be lifted and walked with. Modern medical science has declared that the less handling a little baby receives the better for it, and that for some months its growth should be in most respects as much like that of a vegetable as possible.

As the child gets older and begins to use its limbs it will be good for it to be exercised rather more, but nature is a pretty safe guide to follow in this respect. The baby who is well and normal is not slow to show its growth and progress, and it is far wiser for the parent to be led by these than to attempt to hurry development either of body or of mind. The child will assert itself soon enough, and so decidedly as to leave no room for doubt as to its proclivities.

Possibly it may sound a trifle absurd to say that from the first the child should have the habit of obedience implanted, yet this is no absurdity, but a serious and important fact. At an astonishingly early age the infant endeavors to pit its small will against that of its seniors, and the initial step in revolt is promptly followed by others unless the attempt is checked at once.

Neither time nor place is sufficient here to go into the reasons why the training of a child in obedience, even at the cost of suffering and punishment, is not the exercise over the weak of the tyranny of the strong, but the display of superior wisdom for the benefit of the inexperienced. It is enough to remind those who think that a child should be allowed to grow up naturally, unrestrained by rule and severity, when severity is required to enforce discipline, that all through life the human being must conform to constituted authority as exemplified in the laws of health, of the state, of teachers and employers, of morality, of religion. In view of this the sooner the child learns to defer to those in whose charge it is the better for it later on, the less cruel the lessons life holds in store for it.

Apart from this there can be no doubt that the well-trained child is actually happier than the one with no law but its own whim. Also it is much pleasanter company than the self-willed, undisciplined infant who follows its own sweet will regardless of the comfort or preference of others.

The same kind of regimen established for a child in babyhood should be pursued when it grows older and begins to share more actively in the life of the household. The mistaken custom of permitting a child to keep the same hours, eat the same diet, and follow practically the same life as its elders cannot be sufficiently condemned. The habit of going to bed early after a light meal, of having the heaviest repast in the middle of the day, of partaking of such food as is particularly suited to the needs of a growing child, of being debarred rich and indigestible articles of diet, of having postponed until more advanced years exciting amusements and pursuits instead of being hurried into them while hardly out of infancy, should all be enforced. A child is not a miniature man or woman, but an immature human being who must develop naturally, as plants grow, and is wronged by being forced into premature bloom or fruition, mentally or emotionally as much as physically.

The child’s food should be carefully considered by the mother and she should not regard the time wasted she bestows in studying food values and devising the best sort of diet for the nursery. Not until the first teeth begin to come should starchy food of any sort be given, and then with caution. Until the saliva flows freely to help digest starch, bread in any form, crackers, etc., should be withheld. As the child reaches the stage where solid food is allowed this should continue to be simple in character. A child does not have the longing for variety common to more sophisticated palates.

For the breakfast of the child of two or more years of age a cereal, well cooked, with plenty of milk, should be given. Sugar should not accompany it. When sweet is desirable, as it often is, it should be taken in some other way than as an adjunct to a regular article of diet. With the cereal and milk the child seldom needs anything more, but if the consumption of the porridge is not sufficient, a soft-boiled egg or a poached egg may be supplied, with a little toast. Milk should be the drink.

In the middle of the morning a supplementary meal may be taken, and this may consist of a piece of bread and butter and a glass of milk. Whole-wheat bread is better than that made from the bolted flour. When there is a tendency to constipation Graham bread is good.

At noon the substantial provision of the day is to be served and a cup of soup may begin the dinner, followed by a very small piece of steak or chop cut up fine, or by an egg, if one has not been taken at breakfast, a baked potato, well mashed, with butter or cream and salt upon it. Rice is also excellent when served with plenty of good butter. A plain sweet, like stewed fruit, a milk pudding, one of rice, of arrowroot, tapioca, or a custard, will answer. Milk may again be drunk unless the child has eaten a meat soup or broth and meat besides.

Generally the little one who has taken so substantial a meal as this at noon will need nothing more until supper-time, when bread and milk, crackers and milk, or something of the sort may be provided; or bread and a good plain jam or stewed fruit, like prunes or apple-sauce, with a glass of milk. After this comes the child’s bed-time, and it should be put to sleep in a quiet room, alone, with the door open if symptoms of nervousness declare themselves, but without a nurse or other attendant. This may sound hard-hearted, but the child who is accustomed to such solitude from infancy will not feel it an infliction, and the saving of inconvenience to the parents in the habit of going to sleep unattended is incalculable.

The good manners of the child should receive early consideration. The habit of courtesy implanted in infancy gives a finish of manner in later life that no surface polish can impart. It is as easy for a little boy and girl to be taught to rise when elders come into the room, to take their turn at the table, to handle a knife, fork, and spoon properly, to eat in a decent fashion, to say, “Thank you,” “If you please,” and the like, and to show the thoughtfulness for the feelings and comfort of others which is the foundation of all good breeding, as it is to let the youngsters grow up as they will and hammer superficial manners into them when they are older. The good old rule that “children should be seen and not heard” is sadly in need of a revival in many homes, and parents cannot wonder at the unpopularity of their offspring when they reflect upon the disagreeable qualities these often possess.

All this does not mean that children should constantly be snubbed and repressed until individuality and initiative are crushed out of them. In most children these characteristics are strong and triumphant. But a certain measure of deference to elders should be inculcated--a respect which will prevent a child from interrupting the conversation of his seniors, a regard for the conventions which, after all, have more to do with peace and amity in the family than many of us are willing to admit.

As the child grows older and begins school and kindergarten, other children will be associated with him, and from them he will learn many things it would never occur to his parents to teach him. Sometimes it seems as though the least that children acquire at school is their regular lessons. These become almost a side issue. The influence of the strange boy or girl often carries more weight with a child than all the precepts of father, mother, and teacher. Part of this effect is transitory, but much of it sticks through life; and while the children are little more than babies it becomes incumbent upon the parents--by which is usually meant the mother--to strengthen the bond between herself and her child so that she may the more effectually offset the outside forces that sway him.

The sooner the mother recognizes that this is her lifelong “job” and a most important one, the better for all concerned. The mere animal care of the child any competent nurse could bestow, and sometimes it seems as if the charge of a specialist who understood the ins and outs of dietetics and was able to study the child’s constitution impersonally might perhaps be better than the attention received from the average parent. With regard to the question of instruction in book learning there is little doubt that a well-qualified teacher is far more capable than the most devoted father or mother. All such duties as these can be delegated to those who are trained and paid for the work.

When it comes to the companionship, however, it is another matter. Here is something only the mother can give. It is “up to her” to study the ins and outs of her child’s nature; to know where and how to bring pressure in order to counterbalance another influence; to make herself so one with him that he turns to her instinctively, with complete confidence in her ability to meet his need; to be so close in his intimacy that she grasps his thoughts almost before they are formulated; to persuade him unconsciously to rely upon her judgment, her companionship, her understanding to an extent that will hold him in temptation and move him to range himself on the side of right against wrong.

Of course it is not always easy. The mother does not resign her own individuality by the mere fact of motherhood; she does not lay aside her special interests when she takes up those of her child. Yet if she lets him suspect that anything comes ahead of his well-being in her heart she makes a fatal mistake; she starts the rift between them which may widen into a chasm not to be bridged by all her agony and tears.

It may sometimes be hard to yield up one’s own will and preference in this way, and yet the mother gets her pay as she goes along, and her labor brings its reward in a fashion unequaled in any other vocation in the universe. Nothing in the whole world pays so well as being a mother!

THE END

Transcriber's Notes:

Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.

Perceived typographical errors have been changed.