Household RECIPES.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1565, 15 July 1882, Page 6

Household RECIPES.

How to Make mi-KiaiiM Ditor.s. — Take a convenient quality of dry granulated sugar ; place it in a pan having a lip from which the contents may be poured or dropped ; add a very little water, just enough to make the sugar a stiff pa&te, two ounces of water to a pound of sugar being about the light proportion ; act it over the fii c and allow it to nearly boil, keeping it continually stirred ; it must not actually come to a fullboil, but must be removed from the file just as the bubbles denoting the boiling point is reached begin to rise. Allow the syrup to cool a little, stirring all the time ; add strong essence of peppeunint to suit the taste, and drop on tins, or sheets of smooth white paper. The dropping is performed by tilting the vessel slightly, so that the contents will slowly run out, and with a small piece of btiffwiic the drops may be stroked off on the two tins or paper. They should then be kept in a warm place for a few hours to dry. If desired a hittlc red colaring may be added just previous to dropping, or a portion may be dropped in a plain white form, and the remainder coloied. There is no reason why peppermint should alone be used , with this form of candy, but confectioners usually confine themselves to this flavor. Any flavor may be added, and a great variety of palatable sweets made in the same manner. If desired, these drops may be acidulated by the use of a little taitaiie acid and flavored with lemon, pineapple, or banana. In the season of fruits, delicious drops may be made by substituting the juice of fiesh fruits, as strawberry, raspberry, etc., for the water, and otherwise pioceeding as directed. Picklkd Cauliflow v.na. — Cut off all the green lcavps ; put the cauliflower into boiling water with a good supply of .salt ; boil three minutes only ; take out and dip in clear cold water one minute ; cut in pieces convenient to put into jars. Make a mixture of one table spoonful of mace, one of cloves, one of allspice one of ginger, two of white mu&tard seed, and red -pepper pod to every gallon of the best cider \inegar. Let this mixture boil and pour boiling hot upon the cauliflowers ; cover them closely and let them stand a week ; then pour off the liquor, scald it, return it again hot to the cauliflowers, and iv twenty-four houis they ought to be pickles. Use the best oidcr vinegar, if not it will discolour the cauliflowers. Broccoli may bo prepared in the same manner, but is not so handsome ah the cauliflower. A DKLK'IOUS DhShfcKT DIMI.— A delicious disli for dessert, to be • eaten cold with cake, is made of oianges. Pare five or six, and cut them into thin slices ; ]?our a cup of pulverized sugar over them; boil one pint of milk, add while boiling the yolks of three eggs, and one tablespoonful of corn si arch, which you have first rubbed smooth in a little cold milk ; you must stir this every moment till it bogins to thicken like custard, then pour over the oranges ; beat the whites of the eggs to a froth, add a tcaspoonful of sugar, put this over the custard, and set it in the oven to brown. If you dislike the taste of corn starch, substitute two eggs or a tablespoonful of gelatine. Celkiiy on Toast. — Trim the root's, and cut to the same length (about six inches) three heads of celery, wash them carefully, tie them together with string, parboil them a few minutes, and drain them. Pnt a layer of bacon in a saucepan, lay the celery on this, with an onion and a carrot sliced, a bunch of sweet herbs, pepper, salt,, a blade of mace, or a few cloves ; fill up with enough stock just to cover the celery, and let it gently simmer till done. Take some of the liquor well freed from fat, thicken it with a little flour and butter ; pour it on a dish. Have ready a number of slices of bread out to a uniform shape and fried in butter ; arrange them on the sauce in a circle, disposing half a head of celery on each. Chocolate Ckeaji — Mix the yolks of six eggs strained with two ounces of pounded loaf sugar, three ounces of § rated ohocolate, and one pint of milk, et the mixture on the fire in a double saucepan, the outer one filled with hot water, and keep stirring till the milk thickens; dissolvo in a littlo milk oue ounce of isinglass, previously soaked in cold water; add this to the cream, strain it, pour it into a mould, and put it into a cold place, or on ice to set. How to Cook Cauliflowes. — Wash carefully so as not to break of the sprouts; let the green leaves over the flower, cut off the hard end of the stem ; boil in plenty of water with a little salt ; a, large bead will cook in twenty minutes ; take it out, cut off the leaves and stalks, lay^ tliem nicely in the dish; sprinkle with', black .pepper an'd pour melted butter over th'epi ; serve hot. ' i , , ♦ , ,t ' .CelkkV" Ssai7<;e. — Boil - two heads t of celery,' in salted, water, Viih^a butjehj of "sweeYlierb's an' 4 sOme^liole^ popper Jand Isalt to taste; when; tliorbutrbly %ssh j> ix § s i^emWro^Va- si^e. %M^ jfiJ&Tcf

looked at her companion ; the girl's face became more obstinate ; Mr Hunter only half listened. ' Suddenly the girl moved, bent forward, and gazed at the opposite wall. What did she see? Mr Hunter also scanned the wall. An illuminated text was designed like a ecroll on the white surface, " Thy word shall be a la^np unto ray feet." The girl's' eyes' 1 "dilated, a smile irradiated her features, and she nodded her head slightly. Evidently she had discovered some clew, vainly soilght before. The organ breatei'^a subdued minor chord ; the girl rose to her feet, and sang the hymn in a full rich voice, vibrating with passion : " O thoti wast crowned with thorns, that I misht wear A crpwn of jjloiy fair j Exceeding sorrowful, tli.it I might be Exceeding glad to Thee ; Rejected and despised, that I might stand Accepted and complete .it Thy right hand.' After the service Mr Hunter feigned interest iv recovering hie hat, thus allowing his neighbors to pass out. When he gained the btreet, the old woman and the girl, sheltered by the cotton umbrella, had disappeared. He went home disappointed. Mr Hunter no longer occupied the guest-chamber of bis 6ister. Instead, ho had selected modest bachelor quarters in ap unfashionable locality, and he did uot daily enter the charmed circle of the young Erskines. Sister Hetty was very kind, even anxiously civil, about the change ; but the move was effected, and the man who came home spent many solitary hours, in which the Hip Van Winkle sentiment gained irresistible &wa y« . . „ He eat that evening with a pipe in his mouth, and a lamp on the table at hi& elbow. Tho room betrayed a crisis of transition in the occupant. Guide-books were scattered about ; a German grammar; a French dictienary, a volume of Italian phrases, indicated a half- formed project of tiavel. An open writing desk revealed piles of Mrs Erskine's letters and the photographs of her children, tied toyetherand placed face downward. For what end had he returned to a land which had forgotten him? Whither was he drifting? He had asked bread of his kindred, and been given a stone. Was it their fault if tbey had no bread to give ? Odd fancies thronged his brain, bred of solitude. A grain of opium might have lurked in the bowl of his pipe. Should he found a ma^eum, a library, to bear his name ? Should he depart as he had come ? Stay : that girl whoso words still rang m his ears — perhaps grim Want had already clutched her. A lost opportunity? He took up a weekly journal to banish the thought of the girl whom he had not assisted. His eyes fell on the obituary of a Frenchman, recently departed this life in the Faubourg St. Germain. Once a man of fashion, this Parisan had later followed the path indicated by Eugene Sue in fiction, and haunted the de Pi^te", where he studied humanity in its manifold phases, and frequently relieved distress He disappeared from salons of a marquiae, but was never bored. Mr Mark Hunter threw aside the paper, and frmoked his pipe. It seemed to him that ho already heard tho murmur of a vast sea, not remote from his own door, and yet unfathomed by him. This sea was the existence of the roa«s of his fellow-creatures who havo no leisure to analyse their own thoughts in the desperate struggle of each day to gain broad. The following morning he strolled forth as usual, and wholly" without purpose. A whim led him to the east side of the town as remote from sister Hetty's sphere. A month had not elapsed since his return, and yet he avoided the young Erskines. On the cast side, wide streets, noisy and dirty, were succeeded by narrow streets, also noisy and dirty. He saved a child from being run over by a butcher's cart, and got entangled in a not-work of passing cars. Clearly his choice of promenade was a bad one. Jlc paused for the next car to extricate him fiom the Babel of traffic, when he noticed the sign of a pawnbroker. Ho smiled, and approached. The paragraph about the eccentric Frenchman, read the previous evening recurred to his mind. " You cannot invest a Now York pawnbroker's with sentiment sucb as may belong to tho Boulevard dv Temple of Paris, or the Roman Monte," he reasoned. " No family heirlooms in the shape of antique fans, jewel boxes, and watches are traceable here. Every man likes to play Haroun-al-Hafeohid once iv a way, though." He peered into the place, which was dark, mouldy, and with a sinister quiet about it in contrast with the bustle of the adjacent thoroughfaio. Tho pawnbroker's hhop lurked around the corner, a patient monster, sure of its prey — the haggard mechanic out of work, and the careless youth spending his wages in the tawdry billiard saloon of tho avenue. No object of value mot the eye ; faded carpets, loungos, lickety chairs, a dilapidated clock, were visible on one side— the wreck of needy families ; for the rest, not as much as a gambler's watch. _ It was a memorable morning at this particular pawnbroker's, however. The French emigrant's wife came, her eyes blinded with weeping, the last shreds of household bedding in a bundle ready to pawn. At the door she was stopped by a stout gentleman, who bade her return homp, guarding the precious blankets, and thrust double the expected sum into her hand. An Arab of the town, in shirt sleeves, his last coat rolled under his arm, the need of bread being so bitter in his cellar habitation, ripe for any crime, in revolt against society, was stu pined by a kind word from the same stranger, and a question or two, which resulted in his slouching back to the cellar with the coat on his back, and his arms full of provisions. A girl approached, hurried and nervous in • manner, ' and drew from beneath her shawl a silver lamp. The lamp was small, of unique design and richly embossed. " Allow me to look a*- that lamp," said a voice. A stout gentleman snatched ifc up, and scrutinised the bottom, where some initials were inscribed. "Ah ! I never saw another like it," he exclaimed. " I sent it to my brother Henry years ago." The girl turned, and pu«hed aside her veil with a fierce gesture. Mr -Hunter recognised tho Martha of the church gallery ' - " The lamp is mine, and I may sell it if I ohoose," she said hoarsely. ' i " Trust me as a friend, and come away where we can have a little conversation," he said quietly, and.restorj|l| the lamp. , '^wll Tho pawnbroker blinked behind 'BS| counter. He opined that Mr Hunter was ' a private detective in search of stolen^ goods, audrather an awkward novice in> his profession. ' The two"' persons thus straugely ' brought together by chance paused in-ti- little square where flourished' a 'few', discouraged 1 <■ trees adoraed -witlr sparro\V boxes'. *'arid 'hetnxnM' in ; by' tall 1 discoWred'hdUsb'iwith' ragged garments; floaW» I 'fro*»W;th"e|windo'fsT'r >v r-r -' 1 -; : ' "" ,'««'Kp^ex^lifi.n f tb me aIU about thesil-;-

" Yes, I should know him," muttered the other. " Can he be my brother Henry's son ?" Martha advanced a step nearer, and inquired, imperiously, " Do you believe in him?" " Why should I believe in him PMP M "Cruel! cruel!" she cried. "You speak as his lich relations would" speak. I would go and beg of them, but he will not let me. They could only show me the door. Mark is an inventor, a great inventor ; perhaps in advance of his time. Do yon hear? We have reached the end. Why should wo not be allowed to live ? Yes, we are one household ; we came from tho Weßt to find work in the great city. I have been employed at the ribbon counter of Hope's fancy store until last week. The forewoman was my enemy Bince I found a mistake in her accounts a year ago. You know the proverb, when the master wishes to drown a dog, he pronounces the animal mad, in excuse. Well, a package lace was found in the pocket of my waterproof cloak. I did not put it there. I was dismissed, and without a character. Mark has not finished his model. Yesterday mother wished to go to church, and I saw on the wall, ' Thy word shall be a lamp unto my feet.' I laughed ; I feared I was going mad ; but I remembered the silver lamp at homo. I decided to sell it in order that Mark might finish his model in peace. I did not dare to look beyond." Martha spoko rapidly ; her color came and wenfc ; bhe extended the lamp with a proud gesture, and a ray of sunshine fell on it. Mr Hunter had seated himself on the stone bench, and traced Hues on the gravel with his cane as he listened. " Why was the lamp preserved F" he finally inquired. Martha smiled and sighed. She was not nfraid of him " Mark's uncle sent it from China. He was never heard of again. Did you say — " Is it possible that you can be — " Her companion sprang- up and cried, "Take me to this namesake, Mark Hunter." In a small room of one of the neighboring tall houses a young man was seated before a work-table, on which was placed a model of complicated mechanism. His face Wjas pale and wasted ; he brushed back tffe black hair which fell over his forehead. With trembling touch ho pressed a steel knob. There was a moment of stillness ; the young man held His breath, and became deadly white in an agony of suspense then whir ! minute wheels began to move, gliding in grooves, harmonious, rapid, perfect, in the^ wellnigh miraculous completion rf an inventor's thought. "It moves !'' exclaimed Mark Hunter the younger. Martha stood on the threshold, smiling, flushed, tearful, her hand clasped in that of a bronzed stranger who&e aspect was benevolent. IV. It was an unusually bright and lovely Sunday. Trinity Church was thronged at an early hour with an eager crowd. Charley Erskiue was of the number — a slender young roan irreproachably attired. As he made his way slowly up the aisle, he was surprised to see his uncle Mark, far in advance, with a party. The party comprised a shabby old woman, a pale youth, and a handsome girl with a bouquet of violets in her corsage. Mr Hunter whispered in the girl's ear, and soon her voice, full and rich, joined in the opening anthem. Charley Erskine remarked, "By Jove!" put on his eyeglass to inspect this group, and forget-the'm, until dinner-time. " Ah, by-the-byo, mamma, I saw our uncle at church. He was wilh some people ; friends from China, perhaps." " I do not mind, if he is happy," replied Mrs Erskine, plaintively. The service had been poisoned, po to speak, by a Paris bonnet worn by a friend in the adjoining pew. Affairs were going badly in the household, in addition. The arch Mabel persisted in flirting with her sister's fiance, Mr Scroggs. At that hour a joyous banquet was transpiring in thG small work-room of the young inventor — a true feast, pre» sided over by the joyous donor, whose spirits and appetite stimulated those of his companions. A pot of roses bloomed in the open window, and on the wall hung an illuminated text : " Thy words shall be a lamp unto my feet." From time to time Mrs Davenport turned her placid face towards this text, and directed Martha's gaze in the same direction. Martha was regaining her usual courage in the kindly sympathy of this unexpected guest. One could see that she was destined by nature to be the practical helpmate of the inventor, the rock of strength in the wilderness, the Aspasia of this Pericles. Mr Hunter was unrecognizable ; ho laughed boisterously at his own jokes ; he told long stories to enraptured listeners ; he drank toasts in the bottle of wine brought under his arm to fitc. When the meal was over, and darkness subdued tho radiance of the Sabbath^ his tone became graver. " I have a plan to submit to you," he said. "When Mark's invention is patented, I will become his business partner. Tut ! I know more about bu?iness than you do, and I need occupation. We will find a cottage in the suburbs, after the wedding, and build a modest factory near as a commencement. Martha must take care of me when I have gout and rheumatism," " You do it all for my advantage," said the inventor, with emotion. " You have already done more for me," replied the man who had come home, with a certain solemnity. * Martha had slipped away. She returned with the silver lamp lighted, a d it glowed, a pure light oi flame. Mrs Erskine received a letter from her brother in the morning. v "•'The idea!"' she cried. "Mark has found Henry's son at the pawnbroker's and thinks he will yet build up our family name. He blames us drpadfully. I am sure I did not know Henry's boy was in New York, and engaged to a shop girl. Listen to this, children, I wish my nieces might have displayed the same zeal in giving bread to their cousin that they exhibited at the charity bazaar.' " lint that was begsring money of other people," interposed Theo, naively. "Do not interrupt, Tneo. 'If the philanthropists of every city would form a league and agree to each li<mnt the door of a pawnbroker's for one day in the year, how many lives might be saved !' Mark always lacked practical sense," added Mrs Erskine. .Mabel eloped with Mr Scrogrgs -that Wsy> She was better fitted for the posipiqjiji'tbnn Helena, the, bride late affirmed. Tho soul of Mrs Erskine wwavs v tossed like m on the storm-clouds of '^Helena's grief and old Mr Scroggs indignation. At midnight she burned a package of letters never forwarded by her to the Jt West9rn [ village/. ,ShY, ,had noted wisely; at," the", titn'e^ shJe'ib'elieVed. , Now she Shivered, and Fop^a* 'frtjtlf? '"'ss& 7 elt • ,hers"cli'! j uSg^d "byithe 'de^dVryther/Henry , , and thjD^jMfa l^ h^A developet(^'uch|nnf6rfleenW^ults?c J ! ,'-, '. bfi the,

Hunters remain unmoved by these suggestions, but have left to the Erskines, without dispute, that crest of their mother's, so highly praised by her— the cock gazing at a light-house, on a silver ground. — Harper* Weekly.