We once watched with a sick child belonging to _the rich_ family of the town. The furniture, the silver and glass, were of the best. It was necessary to prepare _wine whey_ for the little sufferer during the night. The mother, exhausted with much watching and anxiety for the child, was sleeping, and, unwilling to wake her, we left a fellow-watcher in charge while we found our way to the kitchen,--if the miserable room could be called by that name. The floor was made of loose, rough boards, that sprang up with every step; an old, dilapidated table, minus one leg, was propped up on the back of a chair; broken dishes, worn-out saucepans,--in truth, we were at our wits’ ends to make even the simple _wine whey_ in such utensils as we found in that strange kitchen, and have often since marvelled by what skill the excellent dinners and suppers we have partaken at that house could ever have been manufactured in such a den and with such “conveniencies.” Whenever it is possible, a large, airy kitchen should be provided, with every thing to expedite and simplify the labor, and with every facility for perfect ventilation,--a most important point. In the homes of the wealthy there is no reason why the kitchen should not be in all respects so arranged and furnished that the cook must be inexcusable if she does not keep it and its belongings in the most perfect order. But for those who cannot command the means to build and furnish a kitchen of this kind, the necessity for the greatest neatness and order in that department is still stronger. The occupants of second-class houses are often those who must themselves do or overlook much of the heaviest labor of the family, and therefore have no time to spend in the doubtful luxury of “clearing-up days.” Such days are generally _wasted_ days. Those who find them a necessity are mostly a class who, for five days in the week, never put anything in its proper place, leaving all in disorder till Saturday. Then everything is hunted out of its hiding-place, washed, scoured, polished, and put where it really belongs. The improvement is so striking that one would suppose the kitchen would never again be a scene of disorder and confusion; but probably before Monday’s sun has set carelessness and misrule will have again regained their empire, and taken unto themselves seven spirits worse, if that be possible, than the first. And thus Saturday’s labor will have been given in vain. There is not one servant in a hundred who does not need the watchful eye of a methodical mistress to enforce the necessity of order and neatness in the kitchen. If it is made and furnished in the best manner, it should certainly be carefully kept; but if it be small, inconvenient, and have a meagre supply of utensils, neatness and order become an imperative necessity.