If the smoke does rise from a neighbor's chimney one or two hours earlier or later than from your own, do not regard that as an infallible indication of the amount of work done in that dwelling. Emerson strikes the key-note when he says that " the vice of our 'housekeeping is that it does not hold man sa- cred," and that "persons are treated too much as things." The criticism is just. Who can not recall homes which seem to be maintained with reference to other ends than that of the comfort and well-being of those who live in them ? There is nothing more interesting or beautiful than a home which, in all its appointments, reveals the character of its inmates ; which has, as Bishop Butler says, "a cer- tain physiognomy of its own." Such a home is a blessing to those whose happy fortune it is to be born into it, and it is a means of culture to the community in which it stands. 14 HOUSEHOLD HINTS. It is possible to possess such a home — this is not an idle dream — since it does not depend upon great genius or great wealth, but upon the spirit with which its duties are met and performed ; upon the soul which animates its body. II. BREAD, TEA, AND COFFEE. Almost every young housekeeper starts out with the conviction that she will be obliged to bury or throw away the first barrel or two of flour which her husband will buy, and which she will make up into uneatable bread. She has heard so much of the importance of having good bread, and the mysterious difficulties in the way of making it, that she fears it is something beyond her, and expects to succeed only after repeated failures. Now, this is all wrong ; it is not difficult to make good bread ; and there is no reason why the first loaf she makes should not be creditable, if she takes the precaution to use good flour and good yeast. She can easily ascertain what flour is used by some good cook of her acquaintance, and the yeast she can make herself. Of course, if she is wholly inexperienced, she will have to use a great deal of care in making and baking the bread ; she will have to watch the oven closely, and leam to keep a steady fire. Bread will not bake itself, as she may be inclined to think from having noticed the ease with which older cooks manage the baking. For a time she will be obliged to give undivided attention to every little detail. Start the bread the night before it is to be baked. Take a six-quart pan a little more than half full of flour, make a little hollow in the center, take (for three loaves, or for two BREAD, TEA, AND COFFEE, 15 loaves and one tin of biscuits) a small cupful of yeast — if the yeast is fresh, less will do — and a pint of lukewarm water ; stir in and make a sponge in the hollow in the flour, cover the pan with a clean paper, and a cloth over that ; in win- ter set it in a warm room, in summer in a cool one. In the morning, early, mix the whole of the flour with the sponge, adding enough lukewarm water to make the dough the proper consistency ; knead it thoroughly with your knuckles, not with the ends of your fingers ; let it rise, and when very light mold it quickly, and with light touches, into loaves, and put into pans which are warm and buttered. An ordinary-sized loaf needs baking about forty-five minutes ; the last five minutes the oven door may be left open, if there is the least danger of the bread being browned too much. When you take it out of the oven turn the loaves topside down iii the hot tins, and allow them to stand a few minutes, and you will find that the crust is tender and cuts easily. If you like potatoes in the bread, mash about two for the quantity of bread spoken of here, and put in when you start the bread-sponge. Biscuits need baking about twenty minutes ; add a little lump of butter to the bread-dough and knead longer. They may be turned in the hot tins, or be rubbed over the top with butter.

AI-modernized reading of the original text

If the smoke does rise from a neighbor's chimney one or two hours earlier or later than from your own, do not regard that as an infallible indication of the amount of work done in that dwelling. Emerson strikes the key-note when he says that " the vice of our 'housekeeping is that it does not hold man sacred," and that "persons are treated too much as things." The criticism is just. Who can not recall homes which seem to be maintained with reference to other ends than that of the comfort and well-being of those who live in them ? There is nothing more interesting or beautiful than a home which, in all its appointments, reveals the character of its inmates ; which has, as Bishop Butler says, "a certain physiognomy of its own." Such a home is a blessing to those whose happy fortune it is to be born into it, and it is a means of culture to the community in which it stands. It is possible to possess such a home — this is not an idle dream — since it does not depend upon great genius or great wealth, but upon the spirit with which its duties are met and performed ; upon the soul which animates its body. BREAD, TEA, AND COFFEE. Almost every young housekeeper starts out with the conviction that she will be obliged to bury or throw away the first barrel or two of flour which her husband will buy, and which she will make up into uneatable bread. She has heard so much of the importance of having good bread, and the mysterious difficulties in the way of making it, that she fears it is something beyond her, and expects to succeed only after repeated failures. Now, this is all wrong ; it is not difficult to make good bread ; and there is no reason why the first loaf she makes should not be creditable, if she takes the precaution to use good flour and good yeast. She can easily ascertain what flour is used by some good cook of her acquaintance, and the yeast she can make herself. Of course, if she is wholly inexperienced, she will have to use a great deal of care in making and baking the bread ; she will have to watch the oven closely, and leam to keep a steady fire. Bread will not bake itself, as she may be inclined to think from having noticed the ease with which older cooks manage the baking. For a time she will be obliged to give undivided attention to every little detail. Start the bread the night before it is to be baked. Take a six-quart pan a little more than half full of flour, make a little hollow in the center, take (for three loaves, or for two BREAD, TEA, AND COFFEE, 15 loaves and one tin of biscuits) a small cupful of yeast — if the yeast is fresh, less will do — and a pint of lukewarm water ; stir in and make a sponge in the hollow in the flour, cover the pan with a clean paper, and a cloth over that ; in winter set it in a warm room, in summer in a cool one. In the morning, early, mix the whole of the flour with the sponge, adding enough lukewarm water to make the dough the proper consistency ; knead it thoroughly with your knuckles, not with the ends of your fingers ; let it rise, and when very light mold it quickly, and with light touches, into loaves, and put into pans which are warm and buttered. An ordinary-sized loaf needs baking about forty-five minutes ; the last five minutes the oven door may be left open, if there is the least danger of the bread being browned too much. When you take it out of the oven turn the loaves topside down iii the hot tins, and allow them to stand a few minutes, and you will find that the crust is tender and cuts easily. If you like potatoes in the bread, mash about two for the quantity of bread spoken of here, and put in when you start the bread-sponge. Biscuits need baking about twenty minutes ; add a little lump of butter to the bread-dough and knead longer. They may be turned in the hot tins, or be rubbed over the top with butter.

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