The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1878-02-22
The Slaves Of the Rolling-Pin,

MRS a. n. DLAE.
Pies again Always pies One, two,
three, four, this is the fifth time, within,
say, ten days or a fortnight, that, to
my knowledge, pies have stood in the
way of better things.
First, my hostess, Mrs. Fennel, could
not leave to take a ride with me few
mornings ago, because "we are entirely
out of-pies." Mrs. Fennel. poor wom-
an, is far from well, aud what with hus-
band, grOwn-up boys, and two small
children, not to mention myself as
bOarder, she has large family to cook /
for, aud only her daughter Martha to /
help do the work. That breezy morn /
ing ride would have raised her spirits
il would have put new life into her; but
pies. (lhis is one time.) Then Miss
Martha, who is fond of reading, declined
the loan of my library book the other
day, on account of having TO help her
mother make-pies. Two times.) Last
evening she could not run up on the
hill to see the sun set, because they
were trying to get the meat aud apple
ready over night for-pies. (Three
times.) When poor Mrs. Fennel was
taken of her work the other day by one
Of her frequent ill-turns, Mrs. Melendy
came in with offers Of assistance.
'NOw / can stay just two hours by
the clock" said Mrs. Melendy, in her
sprightly way: "and what shall / take
hold of first? Shall I tidy up the room,
read 10 you, bathe your head, make you
some good Cruel Or, else, shall / take
bold of the mending, or see TO the din
ner, or what?"
Mrs. Fennel raised her languid lids,
and family murmnred, "OUt OF pies"
"Dear mer cried breezy Mrs. Me-
lsndy, 81 know what the feeling is we'll
enough and tits a dreadful feeling
Why, / should no more dare to set out
a meals victuals without pie, than !
should dare to fly For my husband, he
must have his piece o. pie 10 top Off
with, whatever's on the table,
And the sympathizing sister barred
her willing arms, and wrestled woman
fully with the rolling-pin, know not
how long.
The fifth time was this morning.
While sitting in the room adjoining the
kitchen, the doors being open between,
/ beard Martha ask her mother why
they could not take a magazine. az do
long for something to readl" she said;
"and all we have is just one newspaper
a week.
so! we couldn't get much reading
time" said Mrs. Fennel. "If 'tisn't
both. There's your father, now, COM
ing with the raisins. These pies will
take about all the forenoon"
Miss Martha afterward spoke to her
father about the magazine.
1--WE can't afford 10 spend money on
readin',"- he answered, in his usual
dawling monotone; 'cOsts a sight to
live. Now, il we didn't raise our own
pork, we should be hard pushed 10 git
shorrnin' for our pies"
Such constant reiteration had made
me desperate. / strode to the doorway.
And why must we have pies ?' l de-
manded, in tones Of smothered indigna-
ton. why not bread and butter, with
fruits or sauce instead? Why not drop
pies out of the work altogether? Yes.
drop pies out Of the world" Miss Mar
tina was the first to recover from the
shock Of this startling proposition.
"Our men folks couldn't get along
without pies, Mr.. McKimber," she
said
"Pie-crust does make a slave Of
woman, though" said Mrs. Fennel
There's nothin' harder than standini
on your feet all the forenoon, rollin' Of
it Out.n
"Denno bout doin' without pie.n
drawled Mr. Fennel. "Pears il breadin
ssrse'd be mighty poor show for some
thin to eat"
"Twould take off the heft Of the
cookin'," said Mrs. Fennel, thought
tullyi "but with a sigh you couldn't
satisfy the men folks"
rushed TO my chamber I'm despair.
fle, then, is one Of the household gods
IN Lweenit But what can do about
IL! something must be done. Suppose
write an appeal to Women.1 and
ieau IL al the sewing circle, pretending
~ was taken from a newspaper puh.
Ils.eu ~ ~ wen, IN Alaska, or Australia.
oL tie 'N"eH Islands. We gentlemen
are expected TO help along the euter-
talnment in some way.
Hark, now, to the music Of Tho rcli;..-.
pin sounding from below Tnat r,,,,s7,,
shall inspire my
APPEAL
"lIy dear friends, this is an a.e Of in
quiry. Can any one tell Us who 6rst
imprisoned our luscious fruits in a paste
Of grease and hour baptized the tbinq
with fire, and named il pie? And whv
is this pie necessity ? That is what
confOunds me. Mothers with families.
hard pressed with work, consume time
and strength in endless struggles with
the rolling-pin. Fathers Of families
lengthen their bills TO shorten their
pies. And all this is TO what end The
destruction of health. Every stroke on
the board demands strength, which is
worse than thrown away. Every flake
of pastry is so much food which were
better left uneaten. And, as for time
consumed in this kind of labor, who