DOMESTIC EXPERIENCES
Like most other young matrons, Meg began her married
life with the determination to be a model housekeeper.
John should find home a paradise, he should always
see a smiling face, should fare sumptuously every
day, and never know the loss of a button. She
brought so much love, energy, and cheerfulness to
the work that she could not but succeed, in spite of
some obstacles. Her paradise was not a tranquil
one, for the little woman fussed, was over-anxious
to please, and bustled about like a true Martha, cumbered
with many cares. She was too tired, sometimes,
even to smile, John grew dyspeptic after a course of
dainty dishes and ungratefully demanded plain fare.
As for buttons, she soon learned to wonder where
they went, to shake her head over the carelessness
of men, and to threaten to make him sew them on himself,
and see if his work would stand impatient and clumsy
fingers any better than hers.
They were very happy, even after they discovered that
they couldn’t live on love alone. John
did not find Meg’s beauty diminished, though
she beamed at him from behind the familiar coffee pot.
Nor did Meg miss any of the romance from the daily
parting, when her husband followed up his kiss with
the tender inquiry, “Shall I send some veal
or mutton for dinner, darling?” The little house
ceased to be a glorified bower, but it became a home,
and the young couple soon felt that it was a change
for the better. At first they played keep-house,
and frolicked over it like children. Then John
took steadily to business, feeling the cares of the
head of a family upon his shoulders, and Meg laid
by her cambric wrappers, put on a big apron, and fell
to work, as before said, with more energy than discretion.
While the cooking mania lasted she went through Mrs.
Cornelius’s Receipt Book as if it were a mathematical
exercise, working out the problems with patience and
care. Sometimes her family were invited in to
help eat up a too bounteous feast of successes, or
Lotty would be privately dispatched with a batch of
failures, which were to be concealed from all eyes
in the convenient stomachs of the little Hummels.
An evening with John over the account books usually
produced a temporary lull in the culinary enthusiasm,
and a frugal fit would ensue, during which the poor
man was put through a course of bread pudding, hash,
and warmed-over coffee, which tried his soul, although
he bore it with praiseworthy fortitude. Before
the golden mean was found, however, Meg added to her
domestic possessions what young couples seldom get
on long without, a family jar.
