The times., 1899-01-15

mother went anXiously over the long list
of calls to be handed to father on New
Years morning. and ne usually received II
with great remOnstrance. The only SON
old enough to make calls, made his own list
with much biting of lead pencils and many
erasures and corrections.
For a long time before the eventful day
there was a mixing of rich black fruit cake
and for a day or two before. the making of
wine jelly, on a most delightful charcoal
furnace in the front basement, over which
our grandmother presided. How plainly l
can see now the long, narrow sheets OF
gelatine. with criss-Crosses stamped or
moulded upon them in diamond shape.
Peter Cooper's best ii was-and we felt
a personal interest in Peter Cooper's best
for didn't we know Peter Cooper? He
sat near us in church, and always had Il
pleasant word for us-and often logged
through our own street-Tenth Street, on
his way home toward Fourth Avenue. Then
we took an even deeper interest in the
jelly. for we often had at the hands of our
indulgent grandmother a couple of little
tumblerfuls for our ownselves. Such jelly!
Ii was always wonder to us how il ever
came out clear with all the stuff that
was put into il.
Whites of eggs went in, and the shells
rings OF the rind of the lemons cut 50
thin as to be almost transparent; sugar
and wine-lots of both-and such a care
ful stirring, and then the lifting OFF at
Just the right second by the waiting cook
or waitress II was carefully poured into
big funnel bag, the mouth held open by
eager little hands, and then left to drip
into big yellow bowl, later 10 be poured
into the moulds. No moulds stood alone
in those days, but were carefully anchored
in sand. brought up from the shore of
our Summer home. The bag was sus-
pended from crowbar laid across the
seats of two substantial chairs. and the
chairs were steadied by piles of books.
and any heavy thing that happened to be
handy. There We're no patent drainers or
strainers, no square blocks of sugar, no
tiavoring extracts, and cooking was not
the simple matter then that it is today.
The first thing In the day was the impor-
tant laying of the table. The big mahOg-
any table, made in England, and used
| there by our father and mother in their
| early married life. was covered with the
| thick wooden cloth-for cotton-fe felting was
| then unknown-and over that was spread
the exquisite fragrant linen tablecloth OF
| the finest Belfast weave. The old silver
| coffee urn that had stood for three genera
tions on the hospitable Virginia table of
| our grandmother, the delicate Nankin
| cups. the beautiful old India blue plates
| (all brought by our father from over the
sea in his early voyages before he settled
| down to be a shipmerchant in New York;,
the steel knives polished to shine like
mirrors. the heavy, cleaning silver spoons
and forks-all made the table unique and
| beautiful. Last of all the decanters, pol
| ished to the highest degree of brilliancy
| were filed with port sherry or Madeira
| all old, and all having been at least once
| around the world. Then the eatables
eatables. The picked oysters-a big bowl
| of them, a priceless old bowl and a very
easy one TO fish out of when mothers back
| was turned: for picked oysters were q
| great dainty in those days, and a New
| Years table without them would have
| been lacking indeed.
1t was so easy to fish them out with a