Boston (Mass.) -- Fiction; Women philanthropists -- Fiction
The kitchen will be arranged under her special supervision. She will
engage her own assistants and be the responsible head. She will have a
schedule of cooked dishes, with prices of each displayed on a bulletin
in the corridors. Special dishes will be cooked by request, and orders
for food can be sent in the day before. Of course at first there may be
a little waste until she gets familiar with the people and can
anticipate their wants; but she is a smart Yankee girl, and has a
good-natured, merry way with her which I am sure will win recognition. I
have told her to make it her first point to please the people, and when
that is accomplished she can gradually teach them to drink milk instead
of tea, and to eat brown bread instead of soda crackers.
One objection which was brought up was that children would have no
chance to learn cooking, never seeing their mothers cook; but I said,
that not one woman in ten of those I have in mind knows how to cook
either in a cleanly or economical way. They have but little variety in
their cooking, moreover, and I thought the loss of the instruction which
might be imparted would be largely counterbalanced by the knowledge
which would be gained as to what well-cooked food tasted like.
The _modus operandi_ of getting the food will be something like this. At
half-past six, Biddy Flanigan, who has to go out scrubbing at seven
o’clock, will deposit a dime with her teapot and an empty dish in the
dumb-waiter; she will call up through the speaking-tube that she wants
tea, fried potatoes, and three rolls; and in about seventy seconds the
dish full of potatoes done to a turn, and not soaked in fat, and a pot
full of tea will be at her elbow. From these and the nice home-made
rolls, neither burned nor sour nor underdone, she and little Patsy and
Maggie will have a hot breakfast.
Then Maggie will wash the dishes with the hot water running at the sink;
there will have been no ashes to dump, or clinkers to pick out; no fuel
to be brought, or fire made; and Biddy can put on her hood and depart,
knowing that the children will not open all the draughts and waste the
coal, or set themselves on fire, or let the fire go out, and come home
from school to a dinner of cold scraps, with the necessity of building
up the fire again at night. For with a nickel in the dumb-waiter at
noon, and a tin can containing two big bowls full of hot soup, the
children will be well provided for.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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