THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF SERVANTS.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 698, 6 May 1916, Page 7

THE EXTRAVAGANCE OF SERVANTS.

A writer in an [English paper points out the extravagance of keeping servants, not only on account of tlie wages; paid them, but because of the waste i Ihey cause. Hays she:—• ■ When the war had been on for a J while I took to doing all my own cook- j ing and most of my housework, because, though i could afford to pay even the increased wages demanded by domestic workers, I could not afford to feed them or allow them longer to continue their general waste. The Government appealed, and still appeals, to the women of the country to practise economy, and I contend that, in so far as my own experience and that of many of my best friends goes, one cannot economise and keep servants. 1 take hall: a lump of sugar in my liiji of tea or coffee, but most of the servants I have had used at least lliree lumps, and are still doing so. They put so much sugar in the cup that it cakes at the bottom because it cannot, dissolve, even with the most prodigious stirring. 1 salt my food from a salt-shaker, so that none whatever is wasted, but most servants take a teaspoonful of salt on the side of their plate, use a little of it, and throw the rest away. I take only sufficient mustard for my wants, and, perhaps, so do you. What about your housemaid and your charwoman? For your table and mine we have the bread cut in small bits so that we may not have it left at our plates. Examine the great pieces that are served at the kitchen table, and, after a meal is over there, go and look in your dustbin. In nearly every kitchen of Great Britain the water in which cabbage, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, peas, beans, and other vegetables are boiled is thrown away. 1 do not know of any vegetable the water from which is not good for making soup. That is to say, of course, if the vegetable is cooked properly, and no soda (that absurd addition to cooking little used except in this country) is put in the saucepan. The Haughty Cook. I'll tell you why the last maid I had told me she didn't think she would like to work for me. I had taken her in during war time with the idea of training her in the culinary art. I had tolcjf her that when the Brussels sprouts were done she was to let me know, so in the midst of writing an article for one of the reviews I was called from my study to the kitchen. "I'll just drain the water into the sink, madam," she said. "Oh, no, the water is to be saved," I replied. "That's why I told you to call me." She gave me a look of contempt while she watched me pouring the water into an earthen basin, and the next day she refused to touch the delicious soup which I made from that Brussels sprouts water, salt, pepper, two tablespoonfuls of milk, and a little margarine. I informed her that I wished her to learn how to make this delicious soup from the water in which most vegetables were cooked.

"Would you mind if T don't stay my week out?" she asked. I knew what was the matter, but I pretended not to know, and 1 asked, very sweetly ami politely, her reason. "I'm not willing to make soup out of vegetable water!" she said. "They do it in France and in the United States —two countries where they have excellent cookery," I said, still patiently. "This is not even wartime cookery. It is just the proper: way to make good vegetable soups." "Do you 7iiind if I go?" she persisted haughtily, and I told her I didn't. A Drastic Step. Economy! Economy! We hear the cry every day now. The Government is dinning it into our ears. Now it seems to me that the Government had better call for the help of women, good housekeepers, good cooks, and issue a Government cookery book, with a 7ioticc on the front page that servants who refuse to follow orders concerning economy will bo prosecuted. England is a laud of the free, I admit, and we don't want our private affairs interfered with, even in war time, but when a Government makes the lives of housewives one long nightmare with its mandates about economy, and talks in a high-and-mighty way about household retrenchment, that Government ought to give some really practical aid. The Government goes on the principle that all housewives have to do is to say, "Let there be retrenchment!" and lo! things arc retrenched. The Government tells us to eat less meat. We do eat less meat at the din-ing-room table, but when the meat goes in the kitchen all that we declined to eat, in the hope that an extra meal would be gained, is eaten by the servants, in addition to their ordinary amount. There is economy with tea, sugar, coffee for the family, but there is none among the domestic staff. I am, of course, writing in a general way. There are exceptions in kitchens, but I know I have given a truthful description of the rule. What is going to be done about it?