The Modern Housewife or, Ménagère. Soyer Alexis
of Fare.
INTRODUCTION.
IN the following gossipping conversation between Mrs. B—— and Mrs. L——, and in the two letters which follow, M. Soyer explains the motive of the work; and, in a natural manner introduces the subject.—Ed.
DIALOGUE BETWEEN MRS. B—— AND MRS. L——, HER FRIEND AND VISITOR.
Mrs. L. I have now, my dear Mrs. B., been nearly a fortnight at your delightful Villa, and I must say, with all truth, that I never fared better in my life, yet I am considered somewhat of an epicure, as is likewise my husband; but, of course, our means being rather limited, we are obliged to live accordingly.
Mrs. B. Well, so must we; and I assure you that, during the first few years of our marriage, our pecuniary resources were but small, but even then I managed my kitchen and housekeeping at so moderate an expense compared with some of our neighbors, who lived more expensively, but not so well as we did, that, when any of them dined with us, they flattered me with the appellation of the “Model Housekeeper,” and admired the comforts of our table, but would leave with the impression that I must be the most extravagant of wives. Now, believe me, I have always prided myself, whether having to provide for a ceremonious party or dining by ourselves, to have everything properly done and served, that, if any friends should come in by accident or on business, they were generally well pleased with our humble hospitality, and that without extravagance, as my husband is well convinced; for when we dine with any acquaintance of ours he is very eager to persuade them to adopt my system of management; for though he is no great judge of what is called the highest style of cookery, yet he does not like to live badly at any time; as he very justly says, it matters not how simple the food,—a chop, steak, or a plain boiled or roast joint, but let it be of good quality and properly cooked, and every one who partakes of it will enjoy it.
Mrs. L. Nothing more true!
Mrs. B. But since you talk of limited income and economy, let me relate to you a conversation which occurred a few years ago between Mr. B. and a friend of his, who declared to him that his income would never allow him to live in such luxury, which he called a comfortable extravagance.
“Extravagance!” exclaimed Mr. B., “if you have a few minutes to spare, I will convince you of the contrary, and prove to you that such an expression is very unjust, if applied to my wife’s management. Now, to begin; what sum should you suppose would cover our annual housekeeping expenditure, living as we do, in a style of which you so much approve, but consider so extravagant? there are ten of us in family, viz., myself and wife, three children, two female servants, and three young men employed in my business, and including our usual Christmas party, which, of course you know, (having participated in the last two), besides two separate birthday parties of twenty each, and three juvenile petits-soupers and dances for the children upon their natal anniversaries, also a friend dropping in occasionally, which is never less than once or twice a-week.”—“Well, I do not know,” answered our friend; “but having nearly the same number to provide for, and in a more humble way, my expenses for housekeeping are never less than £—— per annum.”—“Less than what?” exclaimed Mr. B.; “why, my dear friend, you must be mistaken;” at the same time ringing the bell.” I wish I were, with all my heart,” was the reply, as the servant entered the room; “Jane,” said Mr. B., “ask your mistress to step this way for a few minutes; I wish to look at her housekeeping book.” But being busy at the time in the kitchen, I sent up a key for him to get it, which happened to be a wrong one, but, upon discovering the mistake, sent up the right one with an apology for not coming myself, as I was superintending the cooking of some veal broth, which the doctor had ordered for our poor little Henry, who was ill at the time. “Well,” said his friend, “there is a wife for you; I must confess mine can hardly find the way to the kitchen stairs.” “Now!” said my husband, opening my desk, and, taking up my book, he showed him the last year’s expenditure, which was £——. “No! no! that is impossible,” replied the other. “But,” said Mr B., “there it is in black and white.” “Why, good heavens!” exclaimed he, “without giving so many parties, and also two less in family, my expenditure is certainly greater.” To which Mr. B. replied, “So I should imagine from the style in which I saw your table provided the few days when we were on a visit to your house; therefore I am not in the least astonished. Here, however, is the account for the closing year just made up to the 28th December, 1848. Let us see what it amounts to, probably to £50 or £60 more.” “So, so,” replied the other, “that is an increase;”—“Let it be so,” said Mr. B.; “but you must remember that we are twelve months older, and as our business increases, so do we increase our comforts; and this year Mrs. B., with the children, had a pretty little house at Ramsgate for two months, which will account for the greater part of it.”
Mrs. L. But, my dear Mrs. B., I am as much astonished as your friend could possibly have been. I should, however, have liked you to explain the matter; but here comes your husband, who will probably initiate me in your culinary secrets.
Good morning, my dear Mr. B. I have been talking to Mrs. B. about her system of housekeeping, who was relating to me a conversation you had with a gentleman, who was surprised with its economy. I am also surprised, and should like to take a few leaves out of your most excellent book, if you will allow me.
Mr. B. Certainly, my dear madam; in my wife, without flattering her too much, you see almost an accomplished woman (in hearing such praise, Mrs. B. retired, saying, “How foolish you talk, Richard”); she speaks two or three different languages tolerably well, and, as an amateur, is rather proficient in music, but her parents, very wisely considering household knowledge to be of the greater importance, made her first acquainted with the keys of the store-room before those of the piano; that is the only secret, dear madam; and this is the explanation that I gave to my friend, who thought it a good jest and one of truth. I told him to do the same by his two daughters, which would not only make them more happy through life, but transmit that happiness to their posterity, by setting an example worthy of being followed. I always say, give me a domesticated wife, and with my industry I would not change my position for a kingdom; “Very true, very true,” was my friend’s answer, and we then parted.
I have never seen him since nor his wife, who was probably offended at the economical propositions of her husband; for nothing, you are well aware, is more common than for people to be offended when told the truth respecting themselves; or perhaps she was too advanced in years to think of changing her ideas of housekeeping.
I see, my dear Mrs. L., the Brougham is waiting at the gate to convey you to the railway; allow me to see you safe to the station; you will not have many minutes to spare, for the train will shortly be up.
About an hour after the above conversation, Mrs. L. was seen entering her cottage at Oatlands, fully resolved to follow as closely as possible the economic management of Mrs. B.; but a little reflection soon made her perceive that she possessed only the theory, and was sadly deficient in the practice: she then determined to beg of her friend a few receipts in writing, and immediately dispatched the following letter:—
From Mrs. L—- to Mrs. B——.
Oatlands