The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1866-08-01
HOW | MANAGED MY HOUSE
E2OO $4,000 A YEAR.
MRS. WARREN.
MRS. WARREN.
Published by Loring, of Boston.
[Coacttded from EUeatng Telegraph of yesterddy.l
CHAPTER V.


CHAPTER V.
WASTE OF BREAD-How BE CHARITABLE WITH
IT-DIBFERENCE BETWEEN BEING NIGGARDLY
AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS SERVANTS CANNOT
BE HAD-A MISTRESS MUST TEACH THEM-How
TO WASH SMALL THINGS IN BOWL
During my stay with Bertha | observed that
she DAILY exercised the same careful supervision
over every department of the cooks domain.
The waste OF bread, almost unavoidable in
large establi shment like hers, was u source of
trouble to her. Pieces that we're LETT at table,
outsdes and dry crusts, The servants could not
be induced to make into pudd'ngs, or to dispose
OF them in any wav. Even begSarS threw them
aside but still the waste was bread, and, as
Bertha said, ought 10 feed somebody. "If we
only had chickens" she remai ked one dav.
You can give the Crusts away to some one
who keeps them.n
AT give them away they will not be valued.
No, must sell them" she replied,
You would not be so mean, Bertha, my color
mounting to my face with Indignation.
"Yes, | shall, and induce Betty Rudge, the old
miser, to buy them. She keeps q number of
fowls, and sells her eggs dearly enough. The
waste here amounts to q large basketful in a
week; besides, there are other scraps, of which
no use is made, and have always found that
things which are of no value TO oneself, il
given away, are not cared for, but II q price be
asked, if ever so small, the article Is then
coveted, and assumes an Importance in the eyes
of the buyer. 30 Betty must give me sixpence
week or the waste, and this after rloon we will
hear what Betty has to say about it."
''But why trouble yourself about siXpenCe or
even shilling week you do not need it,"
What you say is quite true but was bred
up to have wholesome regard for the maxim,
Waste not and strangely enough, it l have
ever done so, time has come when l have
needed what | nave thrown away; therefore l
have a kind Of superstitious feeling about
waste"
pondered over all this, and for the first time
in my lie owned to a little co1temptuous
ie, ling for Bertha, which, however, did not
betray. In the afternoon we strollel TO Be,ty's
cottage, and, without entering into all the con.
veTsation, may as well say here that Betty
agreed 10 give eggs in exchange tor waste bread
eggs to he tair value of siXpence week.
We walked silently ON from the cottage. Pre-
sently Bertha said, 'You don't understand me,
Mlly: well so it must be. shall lind pensioners
enough tor my siXpence, though could not for
'But Betty does not even give you the
sixpence; you have only eggs in exchange"
You little goose, must have bought these
eggs; therefore, If have not a real silver six
pence have its worth, and the sIXpence Is still
mine to give" This argument was unanswer
| able We continued our stroll without further
| reference to the subject beyond my asking
| Bertha why she did not keep fowls, her reply
| being that Robert seemed 10 dislike the noise
they made and yet, could not be kept from
| watching them, which rendered hun irritable;
| Therefore they had been got rid of.
| Presently we came to a pond, at the edge OF
| which two children were lying, with their heads
| hanging over and their hands padding in the
| wafer. Whether our appearance had frightened
| them, or some other cause led to the result,
| could not tell, but the younge.t toppled over
| with its head deep in the weeds, and with its
| little feet sticking upwards against the some
| what steep bank. In one mOmont Bertha had
| flown 10 the rescue, the other child screaming
! with all its might, while she pulled the now
/ almost insensbe infant from the water. For
| tunatey, II was more frightened than really
| hurt; and after few moments we ascertained
| from the elder child that they lived down
| there pointing to lane, where, however, no
| house was visible, and thar "mammy was gone
| n WI hing W
| "But come with me to the house," said Bertha;
| ''the child must have fresh Clothes"
"But she haven't got any, and nanny TUX
| the key.n
| Here was a dilemma: the only house in sight
| was a respectable farmhouse across the fields;
| the child's head and shoulders were covered
| with mud; the water had penetrated through
| al its garments, and it was walling in the most
| pit eous tone.
There is no help left for it, Millv: we must go
| to the farmhouse; know the people there"
| While saying this she had taken off her light
| cloth cloak, wrapped it around the babe (for it
| was only wee toddling thing of perhaps six
| teen months od), and, bearing il IN her arms,
| we reached the comfortable homestead, the
| brother following us as fast as his little legs
| would carry him.
why, whose child have'ee cot there, mem ?"
| was the exclamation of the farmers wife, when
she saw us; and, taking the little frightened
| creature from Berthas arms, ray of intelli-
| gence shot through her face as she examined it,
and saw the boy now Just entering the door,
| why, this be Sukey stevens child Sukey,
| Sukey, come here"
In obedience to this CALL a slatternly woman
made her appearance IN great alarm at hearing
| the cry of her boy, who was clngng to her
skirts. Lard a mercy what the matter?" she
| asked; then, seeing the babe in such plight
| in the hands of Mrs Tucker, she turned round
and cuHed the ears OF the boy, savagely asking,
Whats thee been dong to thy sister 2"
AT this the boy roared, the child began to cry,
| and the melee, between the women's and chill
dren's voices, was likely to become unbearable,
| which Bertha suddenly stopped by saying to
Sukey:--
Your children should not be left in this
manner; it is mercy one OF them Is not at the
| present msment dead. Your carelessness
amounts to crime"
"Its all very well for gentlelOlks to talk, but
what's poor people to dOH'
| The muGdy-face babe looked quite ludicrous:
| its tears had run down Its face, leaving two
| white channels, so that even Bertha could
scarcely refrain from smiling,
'There, Sukey, go and'wash the child an its
clothes, and wrap it up in blanket till tbs dry
it'll surely catch its death of cold, said Mrs.
| Tucker.
going after her. During her absence we learned
that the father had died about two months since,
and that Sukey, not having been tidy, careful
wife, found difficulty in procuring bread for
herself and little ones; indeed, her chief depend
ence was upon the farm where she was now
| working. But" added Mrs. Tucker. ''Sukey
| told me that neighbor who kept school for
little children had the care of her children"
Here Sukey came back. "Why did you leave
your children SO carelesslyYS asked Bertha.
"Please. mem, old Mrs. Jones wouldn't take
care of 'em cause couldn't leave the pay aiore
| hand; so / gave 'em some bread and butter, and