Mexico weekly ledger., 1880-12-02
LESSONS IN okE


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From the Detroit Post.
Miss Cieely Jones is just home from
boarding school. and engaged to be
married, and as she knows nothing
about cooking or homework, is 60
ing to take q few lessons in culinary
art to fit her for the new station in
life which she is expected to adorn
with housewifery grace. She cer-
tainly makes a charming picture as
she stands 10 the kitchen door, draped
in a chintz apron. prettily trimmed
with bows of ribbon, her bangs hid
den under a Dolly Warden cap, and
her dilnpled white hands encased in
old kid gloves, whiie she sways to
and fro on her dainty French kid
heels, like some graceful wind-blown
flower.
Mamma" she lisped prettily,
''please introduce me to your assis-
tants."
Whereupon mamma says: "Bridg-
ct, this is your young lady, Miss
Cicely, who wants TO learn the name
and use of everything IN the kitchen
and how to make cocoanut rusks and
angels food before sine goes to house
keeping for herself"
Bridget gives q snort of disfavor,
but, as she looks at the young lady.
relents and says s'I'n throy.'
"And now, Bridget DEAR" saws
Miss Cicely, when they are all alone,
''teli me everything. You see, I
don't know anything except what
they did at school, and isn't this old
kitchen lovely? What :,akes this
ceiling such a beautiful bronze color,
Bridget?"
"Shmoke,' answered Bridget
shortly, t'and me oald eyes are put
out with the same"
''Shmoke-I must remember that.
and Bridget, what are those shiny
things on the WALTZ
''Kivers-tin kivers for the pots
and kittles."
"Kivers?-oh, yes, I must look for
the derivation of that word. Bridget,
what are those round things in that
basket"
PIRATES! (For the Lords sake,
where hez ye lived niver to hear of
pratles?) Why them's the principal
mate of Ireland where l kim FROM"
"Oh. but We have corrupted the
name into potatoes such a shame not
to keep the idiom of a language.
Bridget-do you mind i'll call you
Biddie Pit is more euphonious and
modernizes the old classic appella-
ton What is this liquid in the pan
here"
''Och, murder. Where wuz yer
raised? That's millick, fresh from the
cow
"Mi-l-l-ick, that is the vernacular,
l suppose, Of milk, and that thick,
yellow coatipg?'
sits crane. fLord, such ignor-
ance)."
"Crame! Now, Biddie, dear, l
must get to work. I'm going to make
a cake all out of my own head for
Henry-he's my lover, Biddie-to eat
when he comes Tonight
Bridget, aside-''It's dead he is,
sure thin, if be ates it,"
''I've got it all down here, Biddie,
on my tablet: A pound of butter,
twenty eggs, two pounds of sugar,
salt to your taste. No, that's a mis-
take. Oh, here it is. Now Blddie.
the eggs first. 1t says to beat them
we'll; but won't that break the
shells %
''Well, I'd break them this time if
l were you. Miss Cicely; they might
not set we'll ON Mister Heury's STUN
mach eff We didn't said Bridget,
pleasantly.
"Oh, l suppose the shells are used
separately. There! Eve broken all
the eggs into the flour. L don't think
I'll use the shells, Blddie give them
to some poor people. Now what
next: Oh, I'm go tired! Isn't
homework dreadful hard? But I'm
glad I've learned to make cake. Now
what shall l do next, Bidder"
Excuse me, Miss Cicely, but you
moight give it to the pigs. It's me-
self can't see any other use for it,
said Bridget crustily.
"Pigs! Oh, Biddie! You don't
mean to say that YOU have some dear,
cunning little white pigs! Oh, do
bring the little dsrlings in and let me
feed them. I'm just dying to have
one for a pet. l saw some canton
flannel mes once at a fair and they
were too awfully sweet for anything"
Just then the bell rang and Bridget
returned to announce Mr.. Henry, and
Cicely told Bridget she would take
another lesson the next day, and then
she went up stairs in her cilintz apron
and mob cap, with a little dab of -four
on her tip-lifted nose, and told Henry
she was learning to cook, and he told
her shs must not get over-heated Or
worried out. for he didn't care
whether she could cook Or not; he
should never want TO eat when he
could talk to her, and it Was only
souls that cared for cooking.
And meanwhile poor Bridget was
just slammirg things in the kitchen
and talking to herself in her own
sweet ldiom about "idgits turning
things upside down for her inconvan-
encing.'
"Dirt."