CHAPTER XI

MARKETING AND KEEPING ACCOUNTS

"I think it must be my turn to give you your lesson to-day," said Margaret's Pretty Aunt at breakfast-time, "because I have thought of something none of your other teachers have as much as mentioned. You can get ready as soon as possible."

"Which ap.r.o.n?" asked the little girl, curiously.

"No ap.r.o.n at all," said her aunt; "your hat and coat. We are going a-marketing. How can anybody be a good housekeeper without knowing how to buy a dinner?"

Before they set out they went to the kitchen with a small pad and pencil, and looked into the refrigerator to see what they had already, to know what they would need to buy. There proved to be several things which would be used for luncheon, and then they asked Bridget what she wanted them to get. She said she was out of flour and granulated sugar, and would want raisins and coffee and tea, beside a vegetable for dinner and some lettuce and meat. They planned the meals together, and decided on having a dessert of apple-tart, made with apples and cream, and these were added to the list Margaret wrote down so nothing would be forgotten; then they set out.

They stopped at the grocery first, and Margaret was told to order a seven-pound bag of sugar. While the clerk was getting it the aunt explained that this was a better way to buy it than to get it loose, as then it would be sent home in a paper bag, which might break and spill it; then, too, the nice cotton bag in which it would come home would be just the thing to strain jelly through. The flour was also ordered in a bag, this time a large one.

"Some things we buy in small quant.i.ties because there is danger of waste in the kitchen if there is an unlimited supply at hand. But flour is needed every day, and never wasted, so we buy a good deal of that at a time. If we had a very large family we would buy a whole barrel at once, and so save a little money; as it is, the big bag does very well for us. Now for coffee; tell the clerk to give you his very best Java and Mocha mixed, in a tin can. We will take it browned, but not ground."

"I thought Bridget always browned the coffee," said Margaret, who remembered the delicious smell which often had filled the house when the coffee came from the oven.

"So she did," her aunt explained, "until we found she would sometimes burn just a few grains each time, which made the whole taste burned. Now we buy it in a can, only a pound or two at a time, and of a man who has just had it browned for him. We keep the tin closely shut always so the odor cannot escape, and grind each morning only as much as we need, and have this heated very hot just before the water is added, and that gives it the same fresh odor you remember. It is the easiest way to manage, though, of course, freshly roasted coffee is the best of all.

But remember always to get a good quality in buying, for poor coffee is not fit to drink. Order the tea, when the clerk is ready, and get that also in a package, because it is cleaner and fresher that way. You can pay anything you like for tea, from thirty cents a pound to about two dollars, but your mother gets a black tea without a bit of green mixed in it for from sixty to eighty cents, and buys it in half-pound packages. What is next on the list?"

"Raisins," said Margaret.

"Well, order those in a paper box, the kind which come already seeded, and when you get them home, take them out of the box and shut them up in a gla.s.s jar with a tight top, to keep them fresh. The vegetables come now, but before we buy those you must put down in this little book what we have bought already, with the price of each article opposite. I could wait till we got home, but I am afraid you may forget the cost of things, because you are not used to them."

She handed Margaret a cunning little book and a tiny pencil, and showed her how to find the right month and day printed at the top of the page, and to put down under a column headed "Groceries," just what they had bought so far and what each thing cost. After this they crossed the shop to the place where the vegetables and fruit were piled, and looked these over.

The apples were of all kinds, sweet and sour, big and little, red and green. Margaret said she would take the biggest red ones for the apple-tart.

"No, those are not cooking apples, they are meant for the table," her aunt told her. "And do not take the yellow ones, because they are sweet and only good for baking. Take a nice green apple, not too large, because the smaller ones do just as well and cost less. Let us get half a peck of those greenings. We want oranges for breakfast, too, though Bridget forgot to say so. Can you pick those out, do you think?"

There were a good many boxes of these, some with rough skins, some with smooth, some with little bunches at the end. These last, her aunt explained to the little girl, were seedless and rather too dry for breakfast, though very nice for dinner. "The rough-skinned ones are light, as you will see if you lift one, so they would have little juice.

Choose a heavy one of medium size and a rather smooth skin; but do not get those which are a very light yellow, for they may be sour."

The vegetables had to be looked over carefully. Spinach proved withered, so they pa.s.sed it by; the cauliflower had tiny black spots on it; the green string beans would not snap as they should when they were bent; but they found a large egg plant, with a fresh, smooth skin, which they took. The lettuce was all dark green, with thick strong leaves, and the aunt said it would never do; lettuce must be in heads, like cabbage, and pale green. Instead they chose some chicory with a white centre, which seemed crisp and newly gathered. All these things were written down in Margaret's account-book under "Fruits" and "Vegetables."

A nice dairy was not far from the grocery, and there they ordered a little bottle of cream and put this down in the book before they went on to the meat market. As they entered this shop her aunt said the lesson here was so long it would take years to learn it, and they would only take the a, b, c, of it in one day.

"Buying good meat means learning day after day," she explained.

"However, there are some things you can learn this morning, and one is to be sure you buy in a clean place. Look around the floor and see whether the sawdust is fresh; notice the odor of the place and whether it is disagreeable or not; look at the counter, too, and be sure it is white and freshly wiped off; and above all, see whether the meat is kept in the ice-box at the back of the shop, not hung up on nails, or left lying carelessly about. Don't buy any meat which has been hanging or lying around; insist that it comes from the box."

"But I can't think of the kinds of meat there are if I don't see them,"

Margaret said, anxiously.

"You will learn," the aunt smiled. "I am sure you will never be willing to eat meat which you are not certain is clean. Then look well at what the butcher brings out to show you. Beef ought to be firm, clear red and white, and not streaked with little lines; mutton must not be too fat; veal not too young--you can tell when it is because then it will be very small. Bacon must not be too lean nor too salt, and cut as thin as a wafer. Fish must be fresh, with nice, clear eyes. Chickens too often are buried in a barrel of chopped ice for weeks, and come out blue and clammy; such are not fit to eat. Suppose we buy a pair of roasting chickens this morning, and then you will see how they ought to look."

The butcher brought out a pair which were yellow and dry, showing they had not been covered with ice. The aunt bent down the breastbone to see if they were tender, and showed the little girl that if it had been too stiff to bend she would have known by that that they would not do. She also looked inside to see if there was a good deal of fat, for this, too, was a sign of age. She said they had few pin-feathers, were firm and plump, and the feet were clean, so she was quite sure they would be good, and told the butcher to send them home, and not to forget the giblets.

"Chicken liver gravy!" Margaret exclaimed at this. "I like your lessons, auntie!"

After they reached home and their things were put away the account-book was brought out again, and a lesson given in that. Margaret had to listen carefully, for it seemed rather difficult at first.

"It is best to know always how much you are going to spend on your table every week," her aunt began. "At first you may spend too much or too little, but by looking over your book you can tell in a moment where the trouble lies, and the next week you can make it right. Some things cost a great deal, such as turkeys, or strawberries too early in the season, or certain fancy groceries, and by seeing just where your money has gone you can remember the next time not to get these. Look at the different columns in your book. One says Groceries, the next, Vegetables; then Fruits; Milk and Cream; b.u.t.ter and Eggs; Meat; Fish; Wages; Incidentals.

You can put down under these exactly what you spend each day, and when the month is over you can put down in another book what each has amounted to. Let me show you:

"Suppose when you add up your columns in your day-book you find at the end of the month you have spent twelve dollars for groceries, fifteen for meat, four for vegetables, three for fruit, and so on. You simply open your second book at the right month and put down what the whole has been; the next month you do the same thing under the new date, and so on. At the end of the year you do not have to go over all the little sums spent each day, but by looking in the right book under each month you can see exactly what all the meat cost and all the vegetables, and so on. If your October bill for meat was larger than it ought to have been and more than it was in September or November, you can look back and see just why, if you care to. Under Incidentals you put all your car-fares spent in shopping for the house, and such things as dust-cloths, or new kitchen tins. When the last of December comes you can see all you spent during the whole year by adding what each month came to, and know exactly how much it costs you to live, and you can plan to spend more or less next year, as you think best. That is not hard to understand, is it?"

"No," said Margaret, "not to understand, but you see I am afraid I will forget to put things down, and then I will not know after all what I spent."

"But you must put them down at once," her aunt said. "Either taking a pencil with you to market, or writing them down as soon as you come home. You will soon learn, and you will like the plan more and more. It is so nice to know exactly where the money went, day by day."

"Sometimes the grocer has a little book to put things down, too," said the little girl. "If he has a book why do I have to have one?"

"Because he may make a mistake, for one thing," her aunt replied, "and because if you have him put things down and do not do it too, you spend more than you think, and grow extravagant. You can pay each day, if you prefer, or once a week, or once a month; some people like one way, and some another about this, but you should always keep your own accounts, anyway, and know what you have had and how much, and what it cost; and at the end of each month you must copy off the result of adding your columns, and see what the expenses of the month have come to, and so at the end of the year. That's the way a good housekeeper does!"

"Well," said Margaret, "then I will do that way, too, even if it is some trouble."

"That's right," said her aunt. "If you do, I'll give you the loveliest set of account-books and the prettiest silver pencil I can buy when Christmas comes."

"Oh, I truly, truly will!" Margaret exclaimed. "I'll put down every single penny."

CHAPTER XII

THE DAY'S WORK

It happened that just as Margaret was finishing her Sat.u.r.day morning lessons Bridget had to go away for a few days, and the last lesson of all, which was given by her mother, was really a sort of review of what she had learned, such as she had in her school lessons.

It was hardly more than six o'clock in the morning when the little girl woke and jumped out of bed. She dressed softly so that she should not wake any one, and took her bed to pieces and set her closet door open, as she had learned in her Bedroom lesson. She threw up the windows and hung up her night-dress, and then left the room, closing the door behind her.

Her mother met her in the hall, and they went down-stairs together, tying on their clean gingham ap.r.o.ns as they went. The house was all shut up of course, so they opened the front doors, raised the shades in the parlors, and opened the windows a little to change the air. In the kitchen the fire was burning, shut up as they had left it the night before, and they first closed it to shake it down, and then opened the drafts and put on fresh coal, as Margaret had learned when she studied about the range. While the fire was burning up she pinned a little shawl about her head and swept off the front steps and sidewalk, and came in all glowing from the cold air.

By this time the fire was hot and bright, and the cereal was put on to cook in the double boiler, the kettle filled with fresh water and put on to boil for coffee. Her mother said she would stay out in the kitchen and make m.u.f.fins for breakfast while the other rooms were put in order, so Margaret went into the parlors and sitting-room and straightened the chairs, put away books and papers, and dusting a little here and there, leaving the regular dusting until later in the day. The windows were now shut, and the rooms looked very tidy, so she went to the dining-room to prepare that for breakfast.

She brushed up the crumbs, aired the room, and put it in order. She arranged the doilies on the table, one under each plate, with a round of felt under that, laid the silver, put on her mother's tray with the cups and saucers, set the tumblers and napkins around, and the plates with the finger-bowls and fruit-knives, and the bread and b.u.t.ter plates with the spreaders. She filled the salts freshly, and last of all put on a vase of flowers. Then she took the cereal dishes, platter, and plates out to heat in the oven.

She found her mother was getting ready the eggs and other things for breakfast, and she need not help, so she carried into the dining-room the b.u.t.ter b.a.l.l.s and put them around; filled the finger-bowls and tumblers with cold water and the coffee-cups with hot; arranged the fruit on the sideboard, and put cream into the pitcher on the tray as well as in another pitcher for the cereal. By the time breakfast was ready she had on her white ap.r.o.n and had washed her hands, and when the family came down she was ready to show them all what a well-trained waitress she was.

"Do sit down with us," her father begged. "You have done so much already!" But Margaret felt a little proud that she knew her waiting lesson so well, and said she would rather not. She really enjoyed moving very quietly around the table, bringing in and taking out things, pa.s.sing everything to the left, and laying down plates at the right, and generally remembering just what she had been taught.

After all had finished she ate her own breakfast, and found she had been up so long and worked so much that it tasted twice as good as usual.

When she had finished she put on her gingham ap.r.o.n again and cleared the table. She took up the crumbs carefully and used the carpet-sweeper all over the rug. She sc.r.a.ped and piled the dishes in nice, neat piles, and, drawing the hot water, she washed and wiped them all nicely, and put them away. She swept the kitchen, wiped off the tables, shut up the range and washed out the dish-towels exactly as her grandmother had taught in the lesson she gave on the kitchen. Then she went up-stairs.

Her grandmother, mother, and aunts had been afraid she would get too tired with such a long day's work as she had planned to do, and they had made their own beds, but they left Margaret's room for her for fear she would be disappointed. She closed the windows first, and while the room warmed she made the bathroom neat, washed and wiped out the tub and scrubbed off the wash-stand.

Her room was put in beautiful order, to her closet and shoe-bag, and she even stopped to put a clean cover on the bureau and dust nicely, to show she had not forgotten a single thing. The halls and parlors had to be thoroughly dusted now, but as none of them needed sweeping it did not take very long, and there was still time to go to market. She got out her jacket and hat, took her pencil, account-book, and kitchen pad, and went out to see what was in the refrigerator. Here she had to stop, for Bridget had gone away in such a hurry she had quite forgotten to wash this out and arrange it properly, so on went the gingham ap.r.o.n again, and out came all the things from the box. She gave it a good scrubbing with warm water and borax, and put in a fresh dish of charcoal before she put back the ice and dishes of food. Then she got her pad again, and with her mother's help, planned the meals and wrote down what she must buy.