Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1869-10-22
ouR KITCHENS.
MARY Clemmer Amealn the independent


I am sorry for that woman who does
not treasure in her heart somewhere
the memory of beloved kitchen. Per
haps it was gEandmOther's kitchen, or
mothers. May be it was in the coun-
try. You can hardly be happier in
Heaven than when you played on its
floor little child, I love such a
kitchen not the discarded one of a
fine villa, but the honored kitchen of
thrifty farm house. It faces the east,
and takes the suns first 'good-morn-
ing" Thus its busiest hours are full
Of brightness, and its restful afternoons
full of serene light and peaceful shad-
ows. Its wide door opens on q grassy
yard, where ''the old oaken bucket
hangs in the well. What a yard it isl
Its cloverY grass is . paradise for
bleaching its irregular paths run
through the dandelions down to the
garden whose luscious vegetables offer
a daily market for the ready hand, and
out to the orchard where the ruddy
apples hang. There is an old lilac
bush by one window, a sweet briar by
the other, while morning glory bells
cluster about both. Beside one Is a
stand full of plants, which in the win
ter flourish IN the morning sun. On
its ledge there is a work basket mar
velous basket-into whose depths /
sometimes dive, through piles of stock
ings, through bundles and bags,
through scissors aud thImbles and
pins, down to a needle book Certain
TO be at the bottom,.if only through
my impetuous poking), in whose peck-
ct / am sure to find q whole literature
of domestic recipes, heart-pOems, and
editorials on the state of the nation.
Beside it is a little old chair, with q
warm cushion. This is the motheF's
chair and this the mothers corner, and
not to be invaded. Then the old
kitchen has deep fireplace, q vast
bake-Oven, and a modern stove. LII has
a great pantry. whose wide shelves are
filed with glittering milk-pans, all
set for cream and q stOre-ToOm, In
which you may fud everything for
cheer, from the barrels Of -four and
sugar, the rows of sweetmeats, dear to
every housewives heart, to lunches of
dried catnip hung up for The cat, and
pennyroyaI enough for every stomach
aching baby in town. The old kiteh-
en- floor is painted a clear gray, bright-
ened by gay homemade mats. It has
q deep-thrOated clock, that rules its
days book rack filed with books
and newspapers, and colored prints on
its walls. Ii has an arm chair, sew
ing chair, and chintz- covered lounge.
There is nothing in It too hne for its
place. It Is only a kitchen. after all
yet joy to behold and to enjoy.
There is a paFler in this house,
proud in bright grandmother made
carpet, Of the most Intense stripes in
hairclOth furniture, as shining as a
beetles back in 3 pfofnse pile of old
dagueFreotypes and new photograph
book On its walls old gentlemen sit
in venerable frames, with high collars,
stiff enough to break their. necks and
old ladies sit in others, IN muttOn-leg
sleeves and bristling caps. who look
down with mild severity on the CHG
mons Of their descendants. When the
minister comes, or the children from
town, this parlor is opened and furbish-
ed. But, somehow, sooner or later all
the company gr8Vitate back into the
old kitchen for the glow, the cheer,
the love are there.
ThenI I am in love with O kitchen In
town. fit is not as poetic as the
country kitchen. 1t Is more convenient
My heart has thrilled with delight al
the sight Of its bright yellow floor
and exulted with conscious thrift
while / turned the fawcets Of its sta.
tionary tubs" and tested the virtues oil
the spacious range" Who can por,
tray the splendor Of its pantry-itl
mugs and jugs its NESTS" of polish.
ed boxes, whose covers shut in the
priceless berriess and spices of tn
East; its rows of glass jars, filed viii
glowing ielHes-the ruby of the rasp
berry,tha purple black kberry, the Grim
son Of the currant, its shelves of can
ned fruits2 There are peaches for you
tomatoes for you; sweet corn IN thl
can that will give you suecotash /
January, and delude you with th
make-belieYe- of an August feast. Til
kitchen 8 window let's In the sunshine
aud its back-door opens on a grass
plot, on which the clothes may bleach
the dog may play, or the baby ROLL
And all around the stone walks run
a border Of flowers; and. if morninI
glories don't hang on the window, the.
do on the fence. There are but few
city back doors which do not open oI
yard as large as this. Show me ont
pure with grass, fragrant with bios
SONS; or show me one nauseous Will
the debris and refuse Of the house IN,
I will tell you the sort of people VII,
abide inside You tell me that M
kitchen is not practical 2 That I dom
personally know about it I knov
all about it; which is more than I ca
say of anything else. I know thl
every kitchen must have its soap
days, its sudsy days, Its codfshy day
and even its cabbagy days-that, i
spite Of its posies and spices, its odor
must sometimes be more pungent tha
pleasant; but I know also that We ma
open the windows. letthe bad air oU
and theblessed air in, and that throue
and beyond everything remains til
kitchen, all thatit should be. or moth
ing thntit should be, just as we hay
made ftt