When Life Was Young: At the Old Farm in MaineStephens, C. A. (Charles Asbury)
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When Life Was Young: At the Old Farm in Maine
Stephens, C. A. (Charles Asbury)
Farm life -- Juvenile fiction; Maine -- Juvenile fiction
"Well," Addison remarked, "the girls have presented their side of the
work pretty strongly; but I rather guess the boys could say something on
their side;--how they have to work in the hot sun, all day long, to
plough and harrow and sow and plant and hoe the crops, to get the bread
stuff to cook into food. The girls want cooked victuals, too, as well as
we. The hot, hard work isn't all on one side."
"That's so!" echoed Tom and Halse, fervently.
"I often come in tired, hot and sweaty after a drink of water, in the
sweltering summer afternoons, and find our girls in the cool
sitting-room, rocking by the windows, looking as comfortable as you
please, reading novels," continued Addison.
"That's so!" we boys exclaimed.
"Not that I grudge them their comfort," Addison went on, laughing. "I
don't. I like to see them comfortable. Besides girls ought not to work
so hard and long as boys; they are not so strong, nor so well able to
work in the heat. But I think that a great deal of the hardship that
Kate and Doad and Nell complain of, about cooking over the hot stove, is
due to a bad method which all the women hereabouts seem to follow. They
cook twice every day. Fact, they seem to be cooking all the time. They
all do their cooking in stoves, with small ovens that will not hold more
than three or four pies, or a couple of loaves of bread at once. By the
next day they have to bake again, and so on. In summer, particularly,
their faces are red from bending over the hot stove about half the
time."
"But what would you do, Addison?" asked Theodora.
"I'll tell you what I would do," replied Addison. "I would do just what
I suggested to Gram last spring. The old lady was getting down to peep
into the stove oven and hopping up again about every two minutes. She
looked tired and her face was as red as a peony. 'Gram,' said I, 'I'll
tell you what I'll do, if you want me to. I'll take the oxen and cart
and go over to the Aunt Hannah lot, and draw home some brick there are
in an old chimney over there; and then we will get a cask of lime and
some sand for mortar, and have a mason come half a day and build you a
good big brick oven, beside the wash-room chimney. It can be seven or
eight feet long by four or five wide, big enough to bake all the pies,
bread, pork and beans and most of the meat you want to cook for us, in a
week. Then after you have baked, Saturday afternoon, you no need to have
much more cooking to do till the next Saturday. All you need do over the
stove will be to make coffee and tea, boil eggs and potatoes once in a
while and warm up the food.' 'There's an oven that goes with the
sitting-room chimney,' said she; 'I used always to bake in it; but
somehow I have got out of the way of it, since we began to use stoves.'
I couldn't get her to say that she wanted an oven, so I did nothing
about it. But I know it would be a great deal easier, after she got the
habit of it again."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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