saying as she goes, "I'm sure the child is
hungry." And it was true, he was always hungry; and how he managed
to stow away so much is a mystery I cannot now explain. There was no
place in the world more to be desired than this, and no spot in all the
past the recollection of which is more bright and joyous.
My father now assumed the management of affairs. The old people
reserved one room to themselves, but it was free to all, particularly to
us children. It was hard to tell sometimes which to choose, whether the
kitchen, where the family were gathered round the cheerful logs blazing
brightly in the big fire-place, or a stretch on the soft rag-carpet beside
the box stove in grandmother's room. This room was also a sanctuary to
which we often fled to escape punishment after doing some mischief.
We were sure of an advocate there, if we could reach it in time.
The house was a frame one, as nearly all the best houses were in those
days, and was painted a dark yellow. There were two kitchens, one
used for washing and doing the heavier household work in; the other,
considerably larger, was used by the family. In the latter was the large
fire-place, around which gathered in the winter time bright and happy
faces; where the old men smoked their pipes in peaceful reverie, or
delighted us with stories of other days; where mother darned her socks,
and father mended our boots; where the girls were sewing, and uncles
were scraping axe-handles with bits of glass, to make them smooth.
There were no drones in farm-houses then; there was something for
every one to do. At one side of the fire-place was the large brick oven
with its gaping mouth, closed with a small door, easily removed, where
the bread and pies were baked. Within the fire-place was an iron crane
securely fastened in the jamb, and made to swing in and out with its
row of iron pot-hooks of different lengths, on which to hang the pots
used in cooking. Cook stoves had not yet appeared to cheer the
housewife and revolutionize the kitchen. Joints of meat and poultry
were roasted on turning spits, or were suspended before the fire by a
cord and wire attached to the ceiling. Cooking was attended with more
difficulties then. Meat was fried in long-handled pans, and the
short-cake that so often graced the supper table, and played such havoc
with the butter and honey, with the pancakes that came piping hot on
the breakfast table, owed their finishing touch to the frying pan. The
latter, however, were more frequently baked on a large griddle with a
bow handle made to hook on the crane. This, on account of its larger
surface, enabled the cook to turn out these much-prized cakes, when
properly made, with greater speed; and in a large family an expert hand
was required to keep up the supply. Some years later an ingenious
Yankee invented what was called a "Reflector," made of bright tin for
baking. It was a small tin oven with a slanting top, open at one side,
and when required for use was set before the fire on the hearth. This
simple contrivance was a great convenience, and came into general use.
Modern inventions in the appliances for cooking have very much
lessened the labour and increased the possibilities of supplying a
variety of dishes, but it has not improved the quality of them. There
were no better caterers to hungry stomachs than our mothers, whose
practical education had been received in grandmother's kitchen. The
other rooms of the house comprised a sitting-room--used only when
there was company--a parlour, four bedrooms, and the room reserved
for the old people. Up-stairs were the sleeping and store-rooms. In the
hall stood the tall old fashioned house clock, with its long pendulum
swinging to and fro with slow and measured beat. Its face had looked
upon the venerable sire before his locks were touched with the frost of
age. When his children were born it indicated the hour, and it had gone
on telling off the days and years until the children were grown. And
when a wedding day had come, it had rung a joyful peal through the
house, and through the years the old hands had travelled on, the
hammer had struck off the hours, and another generation had come to
look upon it and grow familiar with its constant tick.
[Illustration: GRANDFATHER'S.]
The furniture was plain and substantial, more attention being given to
durability than to style or ornament. Easy chairs--save the spacious
rocking-chair for old women--and lounges were not seen. There was no
time for lolling on well-stuffed cushions. The rooms were heated with
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