PLAN OF KITCHEN.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3522, 21 October 1882, Page 2

PLAN OF KITCHEN.

[To the Editor of the Daily Telegraph.] Sib,-— The sorrows of a country storekeeper—Batspin by name—call for the earliest attention of the benevolent. He, or she, wants to know how to keep a kitchen clean—a kitchen without a scullery, a kitchen measuring, may be, six feet by ten, a slab-hut, or a raupo ivhare, where a fellow sleepß, and cooks, and eats. A place where he dodges .into behind a bag of flour, or a saddle hanging from a hook ; a kitchen separated from the shop by a thin partition of old sacking. Now, how is a fellow to keep such a place clean when he has to eat at urequal intervals, and in the middle of a lump of wild pork have with his mouth full to attend to a customer ? That's what Batspin wants to know, and I am just the fellow to tell him. The problem is this—the kitchen is a pig-stye; a pail of dust—covered water; a sloppy wash-up table ; dirty pots and grsasy pans all round the walls —wanted to know where to throw waste water; how to wipe a saucepan before putting it on a shelf; and where should wood be kept? Now the best thing that fellow can do is this—no saucepan wants cleaning more often than once a week, say Sunday morning; Batspin will be giving himself a bit of a rinse on that day, so he can kill two birds with one stone. Fill the saucepan with hot water, and having washed face and hands in it dip your head in and swill around. After wiping yourself set the saucepan on the fire—you should have no waste water to throw away—and boil the spuds in it for dinner; by the time the spuds are cooked there should be no water left in the pot. That plan gets over two difficulties, old Chap; you know now how to -wipe a saucepan and get rid of waste water. If you fnever sweep up you won't raise any dust, so a " pail of water "—that sounds very feminine—can always remain clean and sweet. If you don't wash up the table wont get sloppy ; if jou are fastidious, which I don't think you are, wash up outside on the Sunday when you wash yourself.—l am, &c, Housekeeper. Pukurawaino, October 21.