A Little Preserving Book for a Little Girl

Amy Waterman

Amy Waterman

A Little Preserving Book for a Little Girl

CHAPTER I

MARMALADES

There were two long and very wide shelves, besides a good-sized bench that had a shelf underneath, in mother's preserve closet. Before these stood two little girls, Jessie May and Adelaide.

Jessie May was Adelaide's most intimate friend, who had been away the whole summer long. To be sure, they had written to one another regularly, and in each letter that Adelaide sent to Jessie May she hinted at a wonderful secret. Now they were together again, the one longing to hear and the other eager to tell the wonderful secret.

"You see," said Adelaide, pointing proudly to the bench and its shelf underneath, "this is all my work, the other (indicating the two long and very wide shelves) is mother's."

Jessie May gasped, for the top of the bench and the underneath shelf had every spare inch covered with jars of jams, jellies, preserves, pickles, vegetables, etc.

"Why, Adelaide! You couldn't,—I mean, how could you?" hastily corrected Jessie May, for she wouldn't for the world have Adelaide think she doubted her word.

"Well," said Adelaide, "let's go upstairs and I'll tell you how it all happened."

When the two little girls were comfortably seated on the back porch the great secret was disclosed, and mother, busy in the kitchen, smiled to herself at their very evident enjoyment. Jessie May was all interest, and you may be sure that Adelaide did not neglect even the smallest detail. She poured out her very soul. In fact, mother learned a good many things that morning about her small daughter's thoughts that she had hardly realized before, until she overheard them being laid bare to Jessie May.

Of course, Adelaide always told mother everything, but it was usually the result of her thoughts, and not the process of thinking. You see, Adelaide had been trained to think for herself, so in one way it was not surprising to hear her tell Jessie May that for two or three years she had been longing to help "preserve."

She told Jessie May it was the "great war" that made her decide she surely was old enough to begin, because she had read of so many little girls who were helping in all sorts of ways to "conserve" and "preserve."

"But," she said, "the thing that really started me was Daddy's fondness for orange marmalade, and his disappointment when we came to the end of mother's supply. It was way back last March," Adelaide continued, and then went on to explain how mother had said that she would make some at once, as it was the very best month of the year to make marmalade. At that season the "Valencia" oranges, "Mediterranean Sweets," and Seville oranges were on the market, all of which had the special flavor most desirable for orange marmalade.

"So mother bought the oranges and lemons and grapefruit," said Adelaide, "and then she was so busy that she couldn't begin to make it at once. Well, I thought Daddy ought to have his marmalade, so I said, 'why can't I make it, mother?' And, just think, Jessie May, mother let me!" exclaimed the excited little girl.

Jessie May took a deep, deep breath, for during Adelaide's recital she had hardly dared breathe, for fear of missing a single point of the story, and leaned back in her chair with a long drawn sigh. She was too full for words.

"The best part of it is," continued Adelaide, "that I have all of the recipes right here, Jessie May." (Adelaide then exhibited a small covered wooden box that she had been carefully guarding.)

Jessie May was very much interested in the little box, and eagerly looked over the neat little cards which the box contained, and on which the precious directions were to be found.

Jessie May wanted to see the one for orange marmalade, "Because," as she said, "it was really the first recipe you ever tried, Adelaide." Suddenly she exclaimed, "My goodness! did you only use two oranges and one lemon and a grapefruit? I shouldn't think they would make very much."

"Well, they did," replied Adelaide, "they made several small tumblers