Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1877-08-01
Two Kitchens.
BY MARY CLEMMER AMES.

the memory of a beloved kitchen. Per-
haps 1t was grandmothers kitchen or
mothers. May be it was in the coun-
try. You can hardly be happier in
heaven than when you played on it's
floor little child. love such a kitch-
en-, not the discarded one of a fine
villa, but the honored kitchen of a
thrifty farm house. 1t faces the east,
and takes the suns first "gOod morn
ing" Thus it's busiest hours are full of
brightness, and it's restful afternoons
full of serene light and pleasant
shadows. Its wide door opens on a
grassy yard, where "the old oaken
bucket hangs in the we'll"
What a yard it is Its clovery grass
is paradise for bleaching irregular
paths run through the dandeIion's
down to the garden whose lucious
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 morn
lng-glory bells cluster about both Be-
side one is strand full of plants, which
IN the winter flourish in the morning
sun. On its ledge there is work
basket-a marvellous basket-into whose
depths sometimes dive, through piles
OF stockings, through bundles and bags
through scissors and thimbles and pms
down to a needle-book Certain to be at
the bottom, if only through my impet-
uous poking,) in whose pocket L am
sure to find a whole literature of do
mestic recipes, heart-poems, and edi-
torials on the state of the nation. Be-
side it is little old chair with a warm
cushion. This is the mothers chair and
the mothers corner, and not to be in
vaded.
Then the old kitchen has deep fire
place, a vast bake-oven, and a modern
stove. 1t has a great pantry, whose
wide shelves are filled with glittering
mllk-pans, all set for cream and q
store-room, in which you may find
everything for cheer, from the barrels
OF flour and sugar, the rows Of sweet
meats, dear to every housewives heart.
to punches of dried catnip hung up for
the cat, and penny-royal enough for
every stomach aching baby in town.
The old kitchen floor is painted a clear
gray, frightened by gay homemade
mats. 1t has a deep-throated clock,
that rules its days book-rack filled
with books and newspapers, and colored
prints on its walls. 1t has an arm
chair, a sewing-cha and a chintz-
covered lounge. There is nothing in
it too fine for its place. 1t is only a
kitchen, after all, yet a JOY to behold
and enjoy.
There is a parlor in this house, proud
in bright OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES carpet, of
the most intense stripes in hair cloth
furniture, as shining as a beetles back ;
in a profuse pile Of old daguerreotypes
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, III mutton-leg sleeves and bris-
Ting caps, who look down with mild
severity on the chignons of their de-
scendants. When the minister comes,
or the children from town, the parlor is
opened and furnished. But, somehow,
sooner OF later, all the company gravi-
tate back into the old kitchen; for the
glow, the cheer, the love are there.
Then [ am in love with kitchen in
town. II 1t Is not as poetic as the
country kitchen, it is more conven-
lent. My heart has thrilled with de-
light at the sight Of its bright yellow
floor, and eXulted with conscious thrift
while | turned the faucets of it's Z" sta
tionary tubs" and tested the virtue of
It's spacious range" Who can portray
the splendor Of It's pantry-its mugs
and jugs its 'snests" of polished
boxes, whose covers shut in the price
less berries and spices of the East its
rows of glass jars, filled with glowing
Jellles the ruby of the raspberry, the
purple of the blackberry, the currant;
It's shelves of canned fruits There are
peaches for you tomatoes for YOU
sweet corn in this can that will give YOU
succotash in January, and delude YOU
with the make believe of an August
feast,
This Kitchens windows let in the sun
shine, and its back door opens on a
grassy plot, on which the clothes may
bleach, the dog may lay, or the baby
roll And all around the stone walks
runs a border of flowers and, if morn
ingg-glories don't hang on the window
they do on the fence, There are but
few city back doors which do not open
on yard as large as this. Show me
one, pure with grass, fragrant with bios
SONS Or show me one nauseous with
the debris and refuse Of the house, and
[ will tell you the sort Of people who
abide inside
You tell me that my kitchen is not
practical? that don't personally know
about it? [ know all about it; which is
more than |, can say Of anything else.
l know that every kitchen must have
its soapy days, its sudsy days, its cod
fishy days, and even it's cabbagy days
that in spite of it's posies and spices, its
odOrs must sometimes be more pungent
than pleasant; but know also that we
may open the windows let the bad air
out and the blessed air in, and that
through and beyond everything re-
mains, the kitchen, all that it should be-
or nothing that it should be, just as we
have made it?
Everybody knows the charm of
pleasant parlor. Every woman likes