“SHE COULDN’T BOIL A POTATO;” OR, THE IGNORANT HOUSEKEEPER, AND HOW SHE ACQUIRED KNOWLEDGE.

By DORA HOPE.

wo very happy events happened in Ella’s household at the beginning of this month; her father came to see her, and her aunt came downstairs for the first time.

Mrs. Hastings had been feeling rather anxious about her daughter for some time. The young housekeeper had had a good deal of worry and anxiety, and her letters had quite unconsciously betrayed the fact that she felt in low spirits. Her depression soon disappeared, however, when her father came, and his strong common sense and masculine way of ignoring the little trials of housekeeping were as good a tonic to her mind as the sharp walks he took her were invigorating to her body.

Thinking her looking pale and languid, Mr. Hastings inquired as to her daily exercise, and found that on many days she did not go out at all, except to feed the fowls, or gather a few flowers from the garden, as her household duties took her so long that she felt she had no time for walks. Mr. Hastings considered that this quite explained her want of colour and appetite, and insisted that it must be altered. In vain Ella pleaded that it was impossible for her to go out always, and would be still more so when the nurse left. Mr. Hastings was quite unmoved by all her arguments, and insisted on her promising to take some open air exercise every day, even if it were only a quarter of an hour’s run up and down the quiet lane behind the house.

He also planned in his own mind to send Ella’s two brothers, Robin and Norman, to Hapsleigh for their Easter holidays. They were good boys, who would not make unnecessary noise in the house, and they would supply a complete change of thought for their sister.

Nor was this the only alteration Mr. Hastings urged in Ella’s daily routine. In her restless anxiety about her aunt and the housekeeping, she had entirely omitted all her own studies. The piano was rarely opened, and all the useful books her mother had packed up for her still lay untouched at the bottom of her trunk. Mr. Hastings strongly disapproved of this, and pointed out to Ella that not only was it a great pity for her to lose the knowledge she had spent so many years in acquiring, but that it was very bad for her health, both bodily and mental, to give up all interests in life, save the cares of a household; nor would she be an agreeable companion for her aunt or their visitors if she had no topics of conversation more interesting than the difficulties of servants, or the best food for fowls; it was quite imperative, therefore, that she should set apart a certain time every day for reading and music.

Mr. Hastings was quite ready to acknowledge that Ella would find it difficult to manage, especially at first, for her inexperience in household matters made her twice as long over them as she would otherwise have been; but she felt she could do it if she made effort, and a little conversation with her father soon convinced her that it was well worth exerting herself for.

In order to make her studies as easy as possible to her, before leaving Hapsleigh Mr. Hastings went through the library with Ella and chose out a selection of books which he thought she would find interesting as well as instructive, for he held very strongly the theory that unless a book interests us, it is waste of time to read it, for though we may imagine ourselves to be getting a great deal of information, if the facts do not take sufficient hold upon the mind to interest it, the knowledge is as soon forgotten as acquired. He was very careful, therefore, in advising a course of reading for Ella, to consult her taste, and to select only those books which she would really enjoy reading.

Nor was this the end of Mr. Hastings’s suggestions, for Kate had commissioned her father to explain a new enterprise of her own. She had joined a water-colour sketching club, and, without waiting to consult her, had proposed her sister’s name also as a member. Each member was expected to send in an original sketch once a month, the subject being proposed by each in turn. The sketches having all been sent in to the secretary, they were then submitted to a professional artist, who put his initials on the back of the one he considered the best, and wrote a short criticism on each. The portfolio was then sent the round of the members, who each in the same way marked the one they liked best.

Kate had sent a supply of all the necessary materials by her father, with an injunction to Ella to be sure to send in a trial sketch in time for the next month.

Mr. Hastings’s visit came to an end all too soon, but not till his loving counsel had done Ella good in every way. His experience smoothed over all her difficulties with an ease which seemed to her almost marvellous, while she was encouraged to fresh exertions by the unstinted praise he gave her for the manner in which she fulfilled the duties of hostess.

To Ella’s surprise, when her aunt heard of these new schemes for study she took a deep interest in them, and suggested that Ella should read her instructive books aloud to her. The fresh subjects of interest quite roused the invalid, and Ella had the great satisfaction of finding that the little mental stimulus they produced not only helped to soothe the irritability and restlessness which troubled her, but that as the mind naturally re-acts upon the body, she was actually better in health for it; while, for her own part, Ella found that her aunt’s sharp intelligent remarks often cleared up points which would otherwise have been a difficulty to her.

In the sketching, too, her aunt took a great interest, and once, when Ella was lamenting over an effect she could not catch, abruptly asked why she did not get Mr. Dudley to help her.

Ella felt shy of asking him; but shyness had no chance of thriving in her aunt’s presence, and Sarah was despatched to ask if he would have half an hour to spare that afternoon. He soon showed Ella where she was wrong, and henceforward was always ready to give her just the advice she needed; and as the weather grew warmer, and made outdoor occupations possible, she was surprised at the many charming “bits” he found for her to sketch in the flat, uninteresting country in which Hapsleigh was situated.

Soon after Mrs. Wilson’s new servants arrived, Mrs. Moore, the widow woman whom Ella had engaged as cook, asked her if she might “make so bold as to say, could she not have family prayers for them in the morning; for, not being a very good scholar herself, she could never manage to read her Bible, and Sarah, though a nice steady girl, was not so fond of her Bible as to care to sit and read it to her.”

Ella was a good deal dismayed at this suggestion, but promised to think it over and consult her aunt. This was a mere matter of form, for she was sure that her aunt would approve of the suggestion, so that the decision really rested with herself. She felt sure it was the right thing to do; but she was really very bashful, though she dared not say much about it at Hapsleigh, and this seemed to her taking so much upon herself. And what should she read? and when?

A very short reflection decided her that it must be done somehow, and for the rest she had no choice but to consult her aunt.

Mrs. Wilson warmly approved of the idea, but seriously added to Ellen’s discomfiture by remarking—

“You had better begin to-morrow, my dear. I wonder we none of us had the sense to think of it before; and, nurse, if you will begin from to-morrow to give me my breakfast punctually, we will have prayers here in my bedroom directly afterwards. Yes, my dear,” she went on, in reply to an exclamation of dismay which Ella could not altogether repress, “it is so long since I have attended a service I feel a perfect heathen, and need to be read to quite as much as Mrs. Moore.”

And having once taken the idea into her head, nothing would induce Mrs. Wilson to give it up; though, on nurse’s advice, she agreed that they should meet in the evening instead of the morning, as being a more convenient time for an invalid.

Mrs. Wilson had one or two books of prayers in the house, but as they were old and most of them rather too long, she told Ella to look through the books beforehand, and select a prayer each day, marking with a pencil which portions to omit. At the same time she talked over with her the most suitable portions of the Bible to select for reading.

“You know, Ella, that, as St. Paul tells us, the whole Bible is given us for our instruction, yet some portions are not easily understood unless a rather long passage is read at a time, and as that cannot be managed at daily prayers, it needs care to choose a portion which gives a complete thought in a small compass, so that those who, like Mrs. Moore, get no other reading during the day, have something definite to carry away with them.”

It was with considerable inward trepidation and a trembling of voice she could not altogether control that Ella made her first attempt at conducting the family prayers the next evening; but she struggled to forget herself, and as she went on her voice grew steadier, till, when they all repeated the Lord’s Prayer together in closing, she was able to join in the spirit of the prayer as simply as anyone present.

It was with sincere pleasure that, a few days afterwards, Ella helped her aunt downstairs for the first time; but her delight that her patient had advanced so far towards recovery was mingled with a certain amount of nervousness lest she should find anything to disapprove of in the rooms, which she had not seen since she was first taken ill. For several days the servants had been expending a good deal of hard work on polishing the furniture and rearranging all the ornaments of the sitting-rooms, and Ella had exercised all her skill in arranging flowers to make the rooms look bright to welcome the invalid, so that Mrs. Wilson could not but be pleased, and she expressed her approval with a warmth which greatly gratified Ella, and which sent Sarah into the kitchen with a beaming face to tell Mrs. Moore that—

“Missis do seem pleased like, and she says to me, ‘Sarah,’ she says, ‘I never saw that bookcase look so bright before; why, you must have got a patent polisher.’”

This well-earned praise was very gratifying to all the household, and spurred them on to fresh exertions.

Ella’s interests just now were chiefly centred in the fowls. She took the greatest care of the sitting hens, and brought her aunt each day a minute report of their welfare. When the time drew near for the chickens to appear, her eagerness became so great that she would have disturbed them a dozen times in the day to see how they were getting on but for the exhortations of her aunt.

The hens were allowed to remain on the nests the whole of the day before the chickens were due, but were well fed, and had a plentiful supply of water given them. When the day for hatching came, Mrs. Moore refused to go near the nests till late in the afternoon, but at last when she and Ella approached them very quietly, so as not to disturb the hens, a gentle peeping sound announced that some chickens had already broken their way into the outer world. They found, indeed, that one hen had hatched all her chickens, but the other had still two eggs unbroken. Mrs. Moore removed the hen which had finished her work, and while Ella went into ecstasies over the fluffy round balls, she made the mother dust herself well with the ashes sprinkled about, and then escort her lively children to a clean new nest, while the old one was burnt and the box which had contained it was put into the open air to sweeten.

The mother hen was given a good meal of barley and plenty of water, but no food was given to the chickens.

In answer to Ella’s remonstrances, Mrs. Moore explained that chickens need no food for from twelve to twenty-four hours after they are hatched, and, indeed, are much better without anything.

Mrs. Moore then brought a basin of warm water (heated to 105 degrees), and placing it near the other nest, deftly removed the two still unhatched eggs without disturbing the hen, and put them in the water. In a few minutes one of the eggs began to bob about in a curious manner, whereupon Mrs. Moore took it out and returned it to the hen. The other one remaining still, she held it close to Ella’s ear, and shook it for her to hear the fluid contents shaking about, proving that the egg was useless.

The shells of the hatched eggs were then removed, and Ella was much interested in noticing that the two ends of each shell had been laid one inside the other, so as to take up the least possible space; but Mrs. Moore could not answer her questions as to whether it is the chicken or the hen who does this, whether it is done deliberately, or as the result of the chicken’s struggles to free itself from the shell.

The next morning the last egg was hatched, and the two “hen-wives” congratulated each other on having fifteen eggs hatched out of sixteen set.

For the first day or two the chickens were fed on hard-boiled eggs, chopped up and mixed with breadcrumbs or oatmeal; and for a time they needed such constant feeding that Ella’s generous mind was quite satisfied, and the chickens soon knew her so well that when she appeared they would come running to meet her, and flutter up all over her dress and into her lap.

The hens were put into coops and brought into the garden, and as long as they were too young to do mischief, the chickens were left loose to run about where they liked near the mother’s coop.

It was in the midst of these cares and pleasures that Ella’s two brothers, Robin and Norman, came for their ten days’ visit. Robin was nearly sixteen, and Norman fourteen, and, considering their ages, they were good, considerate boys. For the first night and day after their arrival they were extremely subdued, and afraid of disturbing their aunt, but this unnatural quietness soon wore off, and Ella found her powers of mind and body fully exercised in supplying them with amusements which would not excite or tire her aunt too much.

Happily the weather was fine, and the boys delighted in long excursions into the country after mythical rare ferns, herons’ nests, or other treasures. Frequently Ella went with them, and she told Mrs. Mobberly, much to that lady’s amusement, that they made her feel like a child again.

Mrs. Mobberly, being very anxious to encourage the feeling in Ella, that although she had reached the mature age of eighteen her youth was not quite a thing of the past, came in several time to spend a few hours with Mrs. Wilson, so that Ella was set free for a long day’s excursion with her brothers.

(To be continued.)