The American Girl's Handy Book

by Lina Beard

  Our thoughts so far have been for the flowers in their season. But did it ever occur to you that it is possible to have

  Spring Flowers in Winter?

  If you search in the woods during December you may find, tucked away in sheltered spots, little woodland plants which, when taken up and carefully transplanted in a flower-pot and set in a sunny window, will soon begin to grow, sending up tender stems, and in about three weeks will blossom. The little fairy-like flowers seem even more beautiful coming in the cold wintry weather.

  Fruit-tree twigs and sprays from flowering shrubs will blossom when the ground is white with snow, if cut from trees about the first of February, placed in well-heated water in a warm room, and the water changed every day for some that is almost but not quite hot.

  The twigs being kept warm will blossom in a few weeks.

  It is quite a pretty idea to take up and plant in a little flower-pot

  The Four-leaved Clover.

  Very frequently you may find a tuft bearing only the mystic number, and should it happen to have a five- or six-leaved clover in with the others, they will add to the luck.

  If you possess one of these charmed plants, it is said “good luck” will always be near at hand.

  Besides the foregoing directions for the preservation of flowers, plants, etc., there are numerous other methods, which, although not experimentally verified by the writer, are no doubt as worthy of a place here as any of the former.

  The following recipes have been culled from various old papers, books, etc.

  Some Old-fashioned Methods of Preserving Flowers.

  The first of these ways is more properly intended for botanical collections, and is often resorted to by collectors of rare blossoms. It consists in placing

  Flowers in Alcohol,

  and possesses the great advantage of preserving the flowers for years, and keeping their most delicate fibres uninjured. They make invaluable specimens to sketch from, and though their beauty may be somewhat impaired by loss of color, their outlines remain perfect.

  Place the flowers in a wide-mouthed bottle, fill it to the top with alcohol, cork it tightly, and cover the cork with plaster-of-Paris or melted beeswax, thus hermetically sealing it. Do not use sealing-wax, as experience has taught us that the fumes of the alcohol soften the wax, and not only spoil the neat appearance of the bottle, but allow the spirits to evaporate.

  Another way is to

  Bottle Flowers.

  Carefully seal the ends of the stems with sealing-wax, place them in an empty bottle—both flowers and bottle must be perfectly dry—cork the bottle, and hermetically seal it with either sealing-wax or beeswax.

  The next method has greater possibilities of beauty, and consequently the reader will be more interested in learning

  How to Preserve a Vaseful of Flowers for a Year.

  Take home your basket of wild flowers, “nodding violets,” cowslips, bright-eyed anemones, and all the lovely offerings of the woods, and before arranging them in the vase, carefully seal the stem of each flower. Place a glass shade over the vase; be careful that flowers, vase, and shade are perfectly dry; then fill up the groove in the wood, in which the shade stands, with melted wax. By covering the wax with chenille it can be perfectly hidden.

  Flowers kept in this way will last for a twelvemonth.

  The flowers preserved in an empty bottle may be taken out, the wax cut from the stems, and, if arranged in a bouquet, will last as long as perfectly fresh flowers.

  Those in the alcohol lose their color after being immersed for a time, and will not last when removed from the alcohol.

  In following any of these directions be careful not to tie the flowers. No string must be used. The flower stems must be loose and separate from each other.

  A florist of much experience in preserving bouquets for an indefinite period gives this recipe for

  Keeping Bouquets Fresh a Long Time.

  When you receive a bouquet sprinkle it lightly with fresh water, then put it into a vessel containing some soapsuds; this will take the place of the roots and keep the flowers bright as new. Take the bouquet out of the suds every morning, and lay it sideways, the stems entering first, in clean water; keep it there a minute or two, then take it out, and sprinkle the flowers lightly by the hand with water; replace it in the soapsuds, and it will bloom as fresh as when first gathered.

  The soapsuds need changing every three or four days. By observing these rules a bouquet can be kept bright and beautiful for at least a month, and will last longer in a very passable state. From another source we learn how

  To Keep Flowers or Fruit a whole Year perfectly Fresh.

  Mix one pound of nitre with two pounds of sal ammoniac and three pounds of clean common sand; then in dry weather take fruit of any sort which is not fully ripe, allowing the stalks to remain, and put them one by one into an open glass until it is quite full; cover the glass with oiled cloth, closely tied down. Put the glass three or four inches down in the earth in a dry cellar, and surround it on all sides to the depth of three or four inches with the above mixture. The fruit will thus be preserved quite fresh all the year round.

  In giving the following recipe for the manufacture of rose-water, it may be as well to state that the original verse is given, not for its merit as such, but simply because it is the form in which the recipe reached the writer.

  Rose-water.

  “When the bushes of roses are full,

  As most of them are about June,

  ’Tis high time to gather, or pull

  The leaves of the flowers. As soon

  As you’ve picked all you need for the time,

  To each quart of water unite

  A peck of the leaves, which, if prime—

  And they will be, if pulled off aright—

  May be placed in a still near at hand,

  On a very slow fire. When done,

  Bottle off, and permit it to stand

  For three days ere you cork down each one.”

  CHAPTER III.

  THE WALKING CLUB.

  SOUND of girlish voices is suddenly heard in the quiet village streets, as our Walking Club, issuing from the house of one of its members, starts off on the first tramp of the season. The gay chatter and bubbling laughter blend with the twittering and chirping of the birds fluttering among the budding trees, and all these merry sounds seem in perfect harmony with the youthful gladness of the bright morning.

  There is a subtle power and exhilaration in the spring sunshine that stimulates the blood, and sends it tingling through our veins, as with light-springing steps we quickly leave the village behind us and penetrate into the outlying country, stopping now and then to secure a branch of the downy pussy-willow or brilliant red blossoms of the maple, and again to admire a distant view where the trees seem enveloped in a hazy mist of delicate color; on we go, exploring sequestered spots or entering deep into the woods in search of early wild flowers.

  Although possibly timid as individuals, as a club we are brave enough; for a party of fourteen or sixteen girls, including our merry little chaperon, may go, with impunity, where it would not be so pleasant for one to venture alone.

  The Walking Club.

  Once a week all through that delightful spring the club might have been seen, now upon a road leading in this direction, now in that. And, often as we stepped aside to allow a carriage to pass, its occupants would lean forward smiling, and waving their hands in greeting; for the moment, perhaps, feeling in sympathy with the vigorous young life that preferred this mode of locomotion to being carried about on the downiest cushions of the easiest of carriages. A ride which accorded with the unconventional mood of our club was not despised however, for, urged on by the girls, our little matron would make bold to accost some countryman driving a vehicle sufficiently large, and persuade him, in the terms of the country, to “give us a lift.” Jolting about in a springless wagon or hay-cart was not in the least enervating, and we experienced no indolent wish
to continue our journey on wheels when forced by diverging roads to leave our equipage. It was not until the ever-increasing heat of the sun, and our own languid disinclination to much exertion, warned us that the mildness of spring had passed, that we concluded to disband for the summer. In the fall we again fell into rank, and came home from our walks laden with the gorgeous trophies of autumn, as we had once carried in triumph the tasselled branches and dainty flowers of spring.

  We continued our tramps into the early winter, when the frosty crispness of the air made it very bracing, and the brisk exercise of walking brought the healthy color to cheek and lip of the young pedestrians.

  Such a club as this, which at the same time promotes health, good spirits, and sociability, is one that most girls will enjoy and derive benefit from.

  A closer acquaintance with Nature, which these walks afford, is not the least of their benefits, and to her true lover, Nature has many delightful surprises and secrets to reveal; and as has been said, even for for those who cannot read her deeper meanings she has a language which calls attention to her more outward forms of beauty, and which one may study until gradually, with slowly opening eyes, is seen more and more of the exquisite perfection of her work, that long ago might have been seen had one but chosen to look.

  As a society, the Walking Club is one of the most informal.

  No officers are needed, although a secretary may sometimes be found useful when any word is to be sent to absent members.

  The membership of the club should be large enough to insure the attendance of at least twelve or fourteen on each walk; for in this case, as I have said, safety lies in numbers. At a place of meeting previously appointed, the members should assemble, and, before starting on their walk, the route to be taken should be decided by vote; a decision on this point will be more quickly arrived at if a chairman be appointed to keep order.

  The first walk should not be too long. Three miles is a good walk to start with; a mile and a half out and the same home again. Gradually the distance can be lengthened, and the club be able to take a ten-mile walk without feeling fatigue.

  CHAPTER IV.

  EASTER.

  EVERYWHERE the children are playing with eggs; eggs colored in every hue—mottled, striped, and gilded; real eggs and imitation ones; sugar, glass, and wooden eggs; for this is Easter-tide, and not only in America, but in many far-away countries, where the habits and customs are very different from ours, does Easter bring to the children the highly prized, gayly-colored eggs.

  How nice it would be if we could take a peep into these foreign countries, and discover what else Easter brings the little ones besides the pretty eggs, and also how the people of such widely differing nations keep this happy festival common to all.

  If we could look into England now, we should find that the ceremonies there begin on Palm Sunday (the last Sunday before Easter), and on that day many people go a-palming, only they do not, of course, find palm, but gather instead branches of willow, which they stick into their hats and button-holes. On Good-Friday we might see, on almost every breakfast-table, those hot spicy cakes with a cross stamped on the face, known to many of us as well as to our English cousins, as “hot cross buns.” We should feel very much at home looking into the churches on Easter Sunday, for we should find them beautifully decorated with flowers, and hear the Easter anthems chanted as we might in our own country. I do not think we can see in America, though, the ceremony which, on Easter Monday, is performed by the charity school-children in England. Were we among the spectators who, with shouts and merry laughter, crowd around to watch this performance, we should see the children take their places, with their backs against the outside of the church, and then join hands until a circle is formed around the building, thus completing what is called “clipping the church.”

  It would be great fun to see the Easter celebration in Russia, which includes many peculiar customs, and where the children receive presents as we do at Christmas, besides more eggs than any of us ever thought of possessing; some of the eggs being beautifully made of glass or porcelain, and filled with sugar-plums or small presents. How amusing it would be to watch the people, following a custom always observed on Easter Monday in this queer land, as they go about kissing relations, friends, and acquaintances, wherever they happen to meet them.

  If we were really in this great, cold, furry country, we might go with the children to make their Easter visits, and, on entering a house, hear the greeting, “Jesus Christ is risen,” and the answer, “Yes, he is risen;” then after kissing the inmates and exchanging eggs with them, go to visit elsewhere.

  All this would seem very strange to American eyes; and it would be a strange sight too, if we could look into the cities of Spain and see the people in the streets shooting at stuffed figures of Judas Iscariot.

  A passing glance at Ireland on Easter morning would show us the people making haste to be out at sunrise to see the sun dance in a pool or pail of clear water.

  It would be worth while to give more than a passing glance into Germany at this season, for in this country, where the children’s happiness is so much thought of and so well provided for, Easter Monday is looked upon as a grand holiday, and all the young people appear in their gala costumes ready for any fun or frolic that may be going on. It is a pretty sight when the little peasant-girls, in their quaint gowns and odd little caps, dance on the green with the boys, whose costumes are equally as picturesque; and it is also entertaining to watch them as they play various games with their many-colored eggs.

  In Germany, too, we should find that the children believe as sincerely in the Easter hare as they do in Santa Claus in our country; and the saying, that “the hares lay the Easter eggs,” is never doubted by the little ones.

  After visiting in imagination all these foreign countries to see their Easter celebrations, it may prove interesting to turn our eyes toward home, for, since our country is so large—as large almost as all Europe put together—perhaps some of our little citizens who have never been in Washington do not know how, in the capital of the United States, the children hold high carnival on Easter Monday, nor how the grounds of the White House and also of the Capitol are given up to them on this day that they may frolic on the lawns and roll their eggs down the hills. It would be as novel a sight to some of us as any found abroad, to see several thousand children rolling and tossing their eggs, while shells of every hue cover the grass in all directions.

  The following newspaper item, cut from the Evening Star, Washington, D. C., April 27, 1886, shows how these rights of the little Americans are recognized and respected, and how unmolested they enjoy the privileges of Easter Monday.

  “THE EASTER EGG-ROLLING.

  “CHILDREN SHAKE HANDS WITH THE PRESIDENT.

  “The crowd in the White House grounds greatly increased yesterday afternoon, so that the grounds were literally packed with children. The crowd was the largest and best appearing that has collected there in many years. The President and Colonel Lamont watched the children for some time from the library window.

  At the President’s reception at half-past one o’clock hundreds of children gave up their sport temporarily and thronged the East Room to shake hands with the President.”

  Easter Egg Games.

  In the game they play at Washington, on the hills sloping from the White House, the child whose egg reaches the foot of the hill in an unbroken condition takes the one worsted in the journey down. Another game for two is played by knocking the eggs together; each child holds an egg firmly in his hand so that only the small end is visible, and then the two eggs are struck against each other until one is cracked, when the victorious player adds it to his stock, or devours it on the spot. I would not like to state the number of eggs eaten on these occasions, but there is a boy (not a girl) who once consumed fourteen and lived to tell the tale.

  Sometimes the egg which breaks another is called “the cock of one,” and when it has broken two it is “cock of two,” and so on. Wh
en an egg which is cock of one or more is broken, the number of trophies won by the victim is added to the score of the conquering egg and it becomes “cock of three” or more. Here is a game which comes from Germany, and although in that country it is played exclusively by boys, there is no reason why the girls should not participate in it as well. Two baskets are necessary for this game, one large and shallow filled with soft shavings, the other shallow also, but smaller, and filled with eggs. The plan of the game is that one player is to run a given distance, while another safely throws the eggs from one basket to the other, she who completes her task first being the winner. When the baskets are prepared, and the distance the eggs are to be thrown decided upon, the two contestants draw lots to determine who shall run and who shall throw. This settled, the player who throws takes the basket of eggs, and one after another quickly tosses them the length of the course and into the basket of shavings, which is placed on the ground at the end of the course opposite the thrower. In Germany this basket is held by an assistant, but anyone occupying that position might receive some severe blows from the hard eggs thrown by unpractised hands, and it answers the purpose just as well to place the basket on the ground. Meantime the other player runs the distance (decided beforehand) to an appointed goal, marks it as a proof of having touched it, and should she succeed in returning before all the eggs are thrown, the victory and prize are her reward; otherwise they belong to the thrower.