The equable temperature maintained by an adjustable flame enables me to “rise” all kinds of fancy bread in my “A.B.C.” stove splendidly, and for making jam it is invaluable. No longer do I dread the annual eruption of stones of ripe raspberries or the arrival of hairy, sweet gooseberries by the gallon. The winter supply of jam in mine house is made without burnt brows or scalded fingers over the little Rippingill that stands in the store-room. “But don’t the stoves smell fearfully?” is a question often asked. I answer truthfully that they are absolutely odourless when properly attended to. Loose particles of charred wick cause a loss of proper ventilation; drops of oil spilt outside the reservoir, clogged burners, all prevent proper combustion and produce a bad effluvia. I find that constant supervision is necessary when we use oil in mine house. Then only are the wicks well rubbed, then only are scissors tabooed, then only fags and edges flame not, then only doth economy wait on comfort in my ingle-nook. It requires skilled fingers to keep chimneys clear enough to read by. A drop of ammonia added to the water in which they are washed helps towards this crystalline condition. Then no longer “Our wasted oil unprofitably burns Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns,” but sheds round a clear shining light. Perhaps a word or two about kindling may not be out of place in considering this subject of economy in our ingle-nooks. Our grandmother’s axiom was-- “A fire well mended Is a fire well tended.” But I think the making of a fire is even more important than its mending or tending. To give our maids inadequate lighting material is very false economy. Well dried, well chopped, well seasoned faggots are a necessity in mine house. “Ash green” may be “fire-wood fit for a queen,” but it makes bad kindling. Bundles of small sticks may be bought so cheaply nowadays that we should never be without them. Unlike Hamlet, we need not “for the day be confined to fast in fires” if we provide these and a few medicated wheels for hasty work. On the other hand Mary Jane must be impressed with the fact that twelve bundles represent twenty-four fires at the least. Half a dozen sticks laid lightly in a basket-fashion will do the same work as a whole handful lumped on together. “Waste not, want not,” is a motto much to be observed in this matter. It is a good thing to have a regular weekly supply sent in, regulated by the number of fires in general use. For extra ones, half a dozen medicated wheels should be kept in the store press, and only given out when one is unexpectedly called for. I cannot quit this subject of the ingle-nook in mine house without speaking a little about the summer ornamentation thereof. As I hinted before, I personally consider the best ornament of our fire-stoves to be a fire, even in August--or, at least, the makings of a fire if required.