THE Good neighbour

New Zealand Journal of Agriculture, Volume 63, Issue 1, 15 July 1941, Page 77

THE Good neighbour

BY

MARY

Tile To

AS ARY MARIE, in her essay this month, wrote: “My very small daughter, when asked what made an empty house into a home, said ‘Put some curtains up, Mummy.’ ‘But it would still be empty,’ I said. ‘Well, you go there, Mummy, then it would be all right.’ ” What a glorious thing it is to be a —have you ever stopped to realise it? Perhaps not, for you are too busy looking after the thousand and one wants of your family. Every thing you do, whether big or small, is a labour of love, and you seek no reward richer than sonny running to you with a sore finger and asking you to kiss .it better. Home is no home without a mother. She is r the centre of the household, the pivot on which everything and everyone depends for smooth running. She may be tired, but never too tired to mend those socks that will be needed in the morning; she may be downhearted, but never so downhearted that she is not waiting to welcome the family with a smile. Somebody there that is you; Mother. Somebody waiting, eager to welcome them in from the night, ready to hear our adventures of the day, happy to laugh at our jokes, or to join in our sorrows. I know that amongst my readers to-day there is many a sorrowing mother. My heart goes out to every one of you who is the mother of

boys overseas, for although there is some consolation to be derived from that poem of Milton’s wherein he tells us that “they also serve who only stand and wait” it is never the-' less a very trying time. But it is up to you, Mother, to keep the fires blazing on the home front, the fires of courage and cheerfulness, for it is to you that the family is looking for the strength that it needs so * 1.1 muc o- ay. ... . Every mother these days is a hero, and this mother— so many others I know—as she goes through

her ordinary, everyday tasks fighting for victory in just as noble a manner as the son who will so soon be serving ’neath distant skies, Purity has brought you grace, Kindness is your daily guide, Love has glorified your face, What you touch is sanctified.” c .1 t jit So, mothers of sons and daughters who are overseas, t keep smiling, and pp going. ' ' /[ // \J

Thaiys “Gt Home”

W E certainly hear of some unusual ’ punishments in our primary schools of today! When I attended school it was the usual thing to write, say, five hundred lines if you were caught having a chat to your neighbour. But here is a more modern method 1 of punishment. The children of a certain school have to find, say, fifty worms for two or three spelling mistakes, and next morning present them to the headmaster. If the worms are forgotten when teacher requires them, then the number to foe found is doubled. The catch seems to be the goldfish in the pond in the school grounds— they have to be fed, and that is where the worms go to! It’s a novel way of getting the fish fed, isn’t it? I know one child who got her worms collected in a tin for the teacher, but was

never asked for them, so the poor worms stayed in the tin for weeks! — Crakey, Nelson. T DON'T see how. anyone can find life on a farm humdrum. There is always something to foe done, and in spare time there is always knitting for the boys overseas. And any of these boys will always welcome a letter. They always' say .they can’t get enough, so think of the joy you are bringing them by just dropping a line write about the little things that happen at home, how the crops are getting on, and they’ll like it far better than any long-drawn-out epistle about what the heads of the country are doing. And when you are making up a parcel, have you ever made a fruit cake in a

cocoa tin? Try it, and see how they like it? Keep Smiling, Waimate. TAO you play golf, Mary? We have just started again .after five years. The nearest club is four miles from here, and we go over every Saturday and Sunday, taking a picnic lunch with us. Everyone else does the. same, and we have. a jolly good time. Last Sun- ■ day we got wet to the skin, and as we had a bit of spare benzine we dashed home, changed all our clothes, and dashed back again! Properly mad, aren’t we?— Plain Jane, Taupiri. rpiHE value to countrywomen of a page -*■ where they may express themselves is beyond computation, and I do find your new section of definite in- ' terest. It has been said to me that with all kinds of organised activities countrywomen now do not yearn to express themselves thus. But I, for one, know that they do. Some have not the opportunity to join any group of women, others have no inclination to do so — and these last possibly find their page a place where, despite shyness, or difficulty in screwing up their courage, they learn the art of putting their thoughts into words. Possibly haltingly at first, but with the drive of their need and sincerity they find themselves able in time to join in the “silent debates” of a printed forum. Unless she has experienced it, no woman can imagine the thrill of seeing painfullywritten words from a “new chum” magically transformed into a printed paragraph. So, Mary, good luck to all our “Journal” pals. Here on „ my acre of ground, in my wee quaint cottage, I love the quiet of a very remote country spot. With very little left to me of material resources, I do find myself passing rich in friendships. Perhaps the very griefs and sufferings which seem the losses in our

experience, in the end give us some healing wisdom to help others. And helping others is certainly the best thing I know for helping myself out of the dark depths which are so close to me at times.— Silver Fern, Christchurch. T DO love the messages you send us each month—they are just splendid and so uplifting for us in these grey days when our loved ones are paying supreme sacrifices to save our beloved Empire from that tyrant Hitler. When I read them, Mary, I think of how many women will benefit from them and take heart again. I enjoy them so much that I am cutting them out to keep, and will later paste them in a book — my “Mary” book l that my friends and I can read and enjoy together. Your article about books I did enjoy, and here is another verse about books: If thou art borrowed by a friend. Right welcome shall he be i ? To read, to study, not to lend, But to return to me. Not that departed knowledge doth Diminish learning’s store, . But books, I find, when doubly lent, Return to me no more. —Peggy, Pleasant Point. HAD intentions of having early peas X for the coming season, so got very busy, and put three rows in. But, alas and alas, the 1 joys of a farmer’s wife weren’t going to pass me by, and those

terrible hens decided they would have Christmas dinner early, so my peas are all gone. I thought they would be right when I staked them when . they were hardly through the ground, but the stakes must have caught the eyes of those greedy hens, and over the fence they came. However, that is a mild trouble compared with what a large number of people have to put up with at present. To-day - has been a very sad day for many folk. The soldiers are away back to camp after their final leave, and it is very hard to say goodbye with a smile, isn’t it? — Judith, Windsor. CO pleased am I to meet you and greet you, Maryyou were long overdue, you know. Many a time I have said that every section of the farming community was catered for by the “Journal” but the women. And, believe me, women are a very important section of the farming community. Probably in no other business is a wife such a real partner to her husband. No longer young, my husband and I work a hilly 500-acre sheep farm. Labour is not to be . had, so we ■ just battle on. Last year I did my first wool rolling and picking up, and, though I am but a few years off 60, there, is a great, urge at present to keep our bodies flexible. Yet I wonder that there is riot more stress laid nowadays on' the idea of keeping our minds flexible. . In the present crisis we are glad to work hard all day, that we may sleep at night. My husband is a returned soldier, and my brother died a terrible death through -the last war. My other brother was in the Boer War, and in this war we have many relations, although we have no family.. So we do not need to call on our imaginations to picture the horrors that our boys are going — Helen, Dipton. J-J ERE on the first day of June the sun is streaming down, on to garden and house, and, although winter should be here, a blaze of colour comes stretching up the drive, and the quiet of the Sunday is broken but little by the traffic passing. Yet in the morning I may rise to a frozen white world, or perhaps to dark grey rain clouds. But for the present here’s sunshine for us both.— M., Feilding. ' ' -

The Language of the Flowers

DO you know the language of the flowers? Some of the most beautiful of the old English fancies are in danger of extinction through the lack of someone to record them for the future. It is said that the younger generation of today is sophisticated, but who could resist the charm of these old-world flowers, and their romantic meaning? Romance is often scoffed at in public, yet it is often very much alive even in the hearts of. the scoffers. Apple-blossom, hawthorn, and ' roses: they conjure up an age of shy-eyed English lasses, of quiet days, of the sound of lapping waters, the purl of the running brook, the whirr of the grasshopper’s fiddle,- the lazy twitter of birds, and the glory of the English countryside. „ The English countryside today may not. be quite the haven of contentment and enchantment that it was in those long-ago days, yet the flowers still bloomdespite the bombs, there is still apple-blossom in ’.spring, roses in summer, chrysanthemums in autumn, and

while the .flowers themselves live, then will their language still whisper soft secrets from lover to lover. And although there are realists who will laugh. at it,, there are amongst us many who agree with the old Hindu saying: “If I had two loaves of bread I would sell one and buy hyacinths, for they would feed my soul.” . z . Here . are . the meanings of some of the flowers: . Apple-blossom: You are preferred. Iris: Have faith in me. Bluebell: Tender and true. Red carnation: My heart is broken. Primrose: Don’t be so bashful. Lavender: Sweets to the sweet. White heather: Good luck. Hawthorn: Courage in adversity. White clover: Think of me. Daffodil: Welcome. Petunia: I believe in you.

Sweet pea: I long z for you. Verbena: You have my confidence. / Yellow rose: Why wanes your love? So next time your lover sends you flowers, perhaps you will be able to translate his thoughts. Flowersthey have been with us all down the ages of the world, and they will always be with, us, as an everlasting reminder that life is good and beautiful, and surely it is a lesson to us all that if a fragile flower can with-

stand the stormy winds and cold of winter and yet still bloom bravely when spring comes, then surely, we can -too? Marion Acton-Bond wrote a very lovely little piece about rosemary, and here it is for you to share: “The scent of rosemary is like incense, and its upthrust fronds like branches of green candles, which seem to burn with a grey-green flame. Always they point to the sky. It is this intensity of worship which gives rosemary its aura of holiness, and sets it a little apart, as though rarefied.”

Our Competition

"What Makes a House Into a Home?"

THIS time you are all agreed, in the main things, on what makes a house into a homethey are love, kindness, and a mother always waiting to welcome you back again. Not easy to judge these essays, they were all so interesting, and written with such a depth of sincerity, that I am sure in every case they came right from your heart. To “Alter Ego,” Clinton, goes the first prize, while “Ageyli,” Marlborough, is a close second. Highly commended we have “Silver Puss',” Taihape, “A.M.D.,” Inglewood, and “Fay,” Kaipara. , , , I know you’ll enjoy reading the entries, so here they are for you:

First Prize

iANLY one answer to that' — Love makes a home, and not just a habitation. Love cleans and polishes, and doesn’t growl when tiny feet patter over the newly-washed kitchen. Love doesn’t snatch away cushions just when a tired head is about'to recline on them. Love doesn’t scream, “You can’t smoke in here!” “Don’t yell like that — quietly!” or “You’ll have to mend your own socks. I’m tired of it.” No. Love cooks plain meals, and tries to slip in the time for an “extraspecial” dainty that is somebody’s favourite. Love remembers birthdays and anniversaries, and makes them real fete days. Love keeps an open door, and all and sundry are welcome to come in to share a meal, or have a chat. Love remembers to laugh a lot, to deal out praises, and little words of endearment. And Love never forgets that a home is not a home unless there are higher, nobler sentiments than “the three-meals-a-day” philosophy. Love never forgets the Grand Things of Life, and tries' to remember that the place to learn about, these things that are “lovely and of good report” is the home. ■ ,7 In''•short, Love makes a home, because Love keeps its tone high,, physically,, mentally, and spiritually.— Alter Ego, Clinton.

Second Prize

'V'OU ask what is the secret alchemy ■*" that turns four walls and a hearth into that most precious noun in the English language, “Home.” The answer lies in many things, but principally in

these three: affection and harmony between those who live in the house; comfort (regular meals, easy chairs, cosy fires); and, lastly, something .that is implied in the two first—a woman’s

hand, or, rather, a woman’s self-sacri-fice, gladly given. The happiest home I ever saw was not a wealthy one. The wallpaper was torn and dingy, the crockery battered, the tablecloths darned, the bed linen home-made, but there was always a fire in the living-room on cold days, plenty of well-cooked food, and an atmosphere of peaceful harmony over all. The woman who was responsible for all this never spared herself. Nothing was too much trouble—the finding of young sonny’s Meccano screws, the mending of' daughter’s frock, the making of dad’s favourite curry. When

people asked this woman the secret of her happy home, she would laugh and say: “There’s no secret about it. Just make people comfortable, that’s 1 all. Anyone can have a happy home if she likes to take the trouble.” I agree with her. The foundations of a home are built upon self-sacrifice; but I think it is worth it. Don’t you? —Ageyli, Marlborough.

Highly Commended

TT is a much-quoted saying that “Home W is where the heart is,” and although it is a very much used and well-worn phrase, it is so true that I can think of none better to express the great difference between a house and a home. Two of the loveliest words in the English language are Peace and Joy. Peace is the absence of fear of any kind, but Joy is a more positive thing— is something that goes from one to all other people. We can have peace without joy, and joy without peace, but the two combined make happiness. If we find peace and joy in a dwelling we find happiness also, and we find a home. Without these it is merely a house, and as both peace and joy come from the heart we find ourselves back at the old saying, “Home is where the heart is,” only in a slightly different manner to the general way of saying. A home reaches out and embraces you the moment you enter the door, a house is cold and aloof. It is the hearts within that make the .'home, be it a mansion or a cottage." If warm hearts live within the walls their effect on the house is evident in a thousand ways: the little touches that transform it into something friendly, something that welcomes you, something that puts you at ease. The room talks to you as its owner would. The sound, or merely the echo, of children’s voices, the scent of flowers, the presence of wellworn, loved, and familiar thingsall these make a home. ‘ I, who have been happily married for years,, have had the joy of many friends, and I have known their homes well. And I have found that where there is joy and peace, there also is happiness and a heart, and as a quiet reflection of all these—a home. — Puss, Taihape. What is it makes a house a home, Wherever o’er the world we roam? It is its comfort, love, and charm, That keeps us glad, and safe / from harm. 'V'ES, that is the secret: comfort, love, A and charm... Comfortable surroundings, our favourite chair by the fire, old slippers, our favourite book, in fact, a complete relaxation of heart and mind and soul. And love,—loved ones, father, mother, and' children living in happy companionship. Sharing everythingmeals, experiences, the joys of

Life and the sorrows, too. Then charm —charming faces, happy smiles, thoughtful ways, lovely pictures on the walls, bowls of bright and sweetscented flowers. Yes, these are what make a house into a, home---comfort, love, charm. Simple, commonplace words, yet what a world of meaning they , convey.— A.M.D., Inglewood. HPHE answer is Love, when we really believe that: “Home means ever giving without a thought or price, < . ■ - Of love and joy and laughter, and . willing sacrifice.” Not elegant carpets or labour-saving devices can make a home. I’ve seen a home in a little slab-boarded bush hut. Ruled over? Yes—with the dictatorship of Love. A mother there, who believed she must live a life worth while for her children, looking up, to see. No day so long, no task so hard, but she had a half-hour at bedtime to spend with the bairns she loved, when she spoke to them of God’s love, of her faith in them, kissed their hurts better, and told them of brave deeds. Was my answer Love? Well, Mother and Love go together, hand in hand. It is only when the mother realises that “The best that thou canst be Is the service asked of thee,” that , a home in ,the true sense of the . word can be founded. Three things to remember to make a house into a home: Look up, laugh, and love. — Fay, Kaipara. 'T'-HERE is one great need, and I think ■ "*■ in youth it is even stronger than in older people, and that is a home should be a place where we can express some of our own personality, and have some freedom. It is this compelling desire to express herself, to be free, that makes Joan go off to her little back bed-sitting-room so happily, rather than stay in the family circle, where she feels that she .is smothered. Young Tom, for the same reason, makes a home of his rough little whare with its glowing stove, its roaring, tinny, old radio, its door ever open to give a rough-and-ready welcome to his pals. Given our dear ones about us, a little freedom to live our own lives, any place, be it high or lowly, becomes home, the dearest spot on earth 'to us. a place to be hallowed by memory, a lodestone to draw us back again, if needs be, from the very ends of the earth.— Kowhai, Mangatainoka. z TTOME is a place where one can com- . pletely relax, and live as God meant human beings to do. We must have warmth in our hearts/and blazing fires in our fireplaces, comfy chairs, cushions that no one is afraid to use, a few. good ornaments, and, yes, I know it is old-fashioned, but I love a fewportraits of those friends ' who have

shared my home, and vice versa. Scotch Lass, Southland. “A/FANY little stones are needed to x make up' a mosaic, and just such a mosaic of different reasons is a woman’s love for her home. Foremost, I believe, is the feeling Ann Bridge, the author of “Illyrian' Spring,” expresses' so beautifully in' the same book, her heroine praying for her children: “I’ll love and cherish them, whatever they are, because they’re mine”—and we can draw our home into the same circle: it is so very dear to us, because

What Makes a Successful Marriage?

I WONDER how many a girl, when she says “Yes” to the man of her dreams when he pops the question, pauses even for a fleeting second to think of the great step she is taking? In the gay whirl of love and romance, she is sure that life with him must be a glorious adventure, but sadly, and only too frequently, we find that some years later these two, who once were so confident that they would face the future together until death parted them, have come to a stage where they feel they must part. Yet what tragedy could be greater than the breaking of these precious ties? “WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER THE SECRET OF A SUCCESSFUL MARRIAGE?” , Perhaps your ideas will help to keep some home together, help to solve the problem for some unhappy folk who feel that life is nothing more than disillusionment. So send me your entries, before August 20th. Two prizes will be awarded: First TO/-, and second 5/-. “MARY,” ■ C/o “Journal of Agriculture,” P.O. Box 3004, Wellington. <1 Closing date: August 20th, 1941.

it is so very much our own. More than that, it is our creation, we make it what it is. Do we ever cease to work in order to make it more beautiful?”Heidi, Kati Kati. EING. the mother of young children,, to me a home as opposed to a. house is a place where I can take my children visiting, and the hostess does not mind if. little fingers touch- things,, or if crumbs are spilled at afternoon tea time. Of course, one should not allow one’s children to meddle with things, but it is unnatural for little' children to sit still, and the friend whowelcomes my children into her home has a real home. i It is the spirit of the lady of the house that , makes a home a place of . quiet pleasure, of comfort, , rest, and real enjoyment to those who live .in — Makarau, Kaukapakapa. T MUST confess that I am sentimental enough to believe that home is where the heart is, and for that reason it is because “someone” dwells in this house, that makes it home to me. The “someone” ■ who shares my joys and sorrows is interested in my work and. play, and to whom I am the first person. Laurel, Feeding. AS I unlocked the back door the . , other day, after a trip to town, I thought, “That’s it.” That is how I could tell I was home, even if I was blindfolded. It was a smell. Some may say, “Fancy her house being smelly!” But aren’t all houses smelly, and all different? You know that mixture of soap and polish, the cooking of breakfasts and dinners and teas, of pickles, jams, and fruits in the cupboard, that, seem to combine with the warm sunlit air in the kitchen. Too, in my kitchen, .1 have , a sound. The boiling water tap of the electric hot water service rumbles and grumbles away, and it seems so companionable. And when I open the kitchen door into the ' otherrooms, there is still' a smell, but this time, of sweet flowers — present daphne and violets. Levin.

"... Only sim Veep”

Your Hands They Lovely to Look At? I WONDER how many of you look down at your hands with a despairing droop of spirit as you see them. There are so many calls on your hands, and perhaps the calls have been made »on them over a very long period and you just feel it is too late now to begin to worry 'about how they look. But that is not true —you may be surprised, but more people look at hands

than fortune-tellers! You never know when you are going to meet someone who will judge you from the look of your hands—are they smooth, and supple, with nails neatly filed, and perhaps polished if it is an “occasion”? Or are they just as you left them after you had finished the dishes for the last washing-up? : Take a good look at your hands, and then make a mental resolve that you will be kind to them from now on. It’s not hard; it’s largely a matter of patience and perseverance. To begin with, give them an oatmeal pack. This is easily made, just mix some fine oatmeal with equal parts of lemonjuice and peroxide, and there is your pack ready to use. Spread it on evenly all over your hands, back and front, and leave it for 20 minutes, before washing it off in tepid water. . Now rub a little cold cream into them, remembering always to rub towards the wrist. A treat like this once a week for a little while will soon repay you for the time and trouble it may take. Do you wear gloves when you are doing your housework? Until you become used to the feel of them, you may regard them as a handicap, but if you want beautiful hands you must persevere. If you have already formed the habit of keeping your lemon skins on the shelf above your sink and rubbing your hands after each washing up, then you are part way to success already. Do buy yourself a dishmop for doing the dishesit is so inexpensive, and keeps your hands out of the water for quite a good portion of the washing-up time. Gardening? Well, even if you use gloves, it is often a good idea to dig the nails firmly into some soft castile soap before you put them on, for the dirt is inclined to seep through the finger-tips if the gloves are beginning to wear. When you come to washing after the gardening is done, you’ll be surprised how easily the dirt comes away from under your nails. Never wash your hands in water that is any hotter than tepid, and always be careful that you dry your hands carefully. So many people give them a hasty wipe over with the towel, and then wonder why their hands become red and chapped. Night-time is the best time to treat your hands. Always wash them ..carefully before retiring, and have a good lotion which you must rub into the hands regularly. Some hand lotions are inclined to be a little sticky, and if yours is . like this then cut the fingers out of an old pair of gloves, and slip these on when you go to bed. However, glycerine and rosewater is very good, and you will find that the skin absorbs this almost instantly. I thought I would give you a few tips about manicuring your nails, but

these will have to wait till next month. But here is a final tip, if you wish to have hands “pink-tipped, like lotus buds” for a very .special occasion: Make up your hands with a racheltinted powder cream, and for an extraspecial bit of appeal, rouge the palms slightly. ■ Lovely hands give you confidence, so do look after yours.

■ _ _ii i While the ftulns . . . I j 1 -• •

' . “Rebecca” < —By Daphne du Maurier. TTERE is . a fascinating book indeed! X If you are one of those people who just can’t bear to leave a book until you have finished reading it, then put “Rebecca” on the shelf until you have a good chance to bury yourself in it, for I can assure you it is gripping. “Rebecca” is the story of the girl who becomes the second wife of Maxim de Winter. Obviously, she has married above herself, yet she is desperately in love with her husband, and the book tells of the struggle she puts up against great odds to win the confidence and respect of the servants, in the house called Manderley, who were all devoted with a queer passion to their former mistress. Everywhere she goes, this girl-wife, of Maxim, she is met with the ghost of his former wife, Rebecca; everything she does is measured against those standards set by Rebecca. Probably many . a girl who has become the second wife of a man has had to fight against circumstances which must have been similar in many respects. Daphne du Maurier has a style all of her own, and a tale to tell which carries you breathlessly from the first page to the last. She is one of England’s leading women writers, and today she is still writing, and writing of vital problems which affect us all. You will find her articles in leading English and American periodicals. You will perhaps enjoy, too, her latest publication, which is on sale in New Zealand in an edition, which is very modestly priced. This is entitled “Come Wind, Come Weather,” and consists of a series of stories of inspiring efforts made by those at Home under these very trying conditions of wartime.' You will enjoy them both, “Rebecca” and “Come Wind, Come Weather,” and although they are both so different, I think you will agree with me that here is a writer whose works will live in our hearts for a very long time.

jr Pia 1,1 "" W-f *'

Appetising Stews * \

IRISH STEW. < 21b neck of mutton (or stewing chops), about 6 potatoes, 3 onions, 3 carrots, pepper and salt. s Trim off the fat and cut into chops or small pieces. Pare and half the potatoes, cut onions into slices, scrape and slice carrots. Place meat and vegetables in saucepan, add warm water. Bring to a boil and simmer gently until meat is tender —about lahours. — J. Ferguson, Auckland. OXTAIL STEW. 1 oxtail cut in small pieces, 2 carrots, 1 swede, 2 onions, 2oz sago, 1 tablespoon tomato sauce (or Worcester), pepper, salt and pinch of curry , powder, IJlb potatoes (roughly sliced and seasoned). Method. — oxtail up. Add vegetables (except potatoes). Also add sago,

seasoning, and curry powder, and 2 pints water. Put all in casserole, or saucepan with well-fitting lid, and slowly simmer for 2J or 3 hours. Put away for fat to settle. Skim, add potatoes, and simmer for another f- hour. A suet crust instead of potatoes is delicious, and may be added about 40 minutes before serving. “London Lass,” Wellington. JARRETT STEW. ' lib stewing beef, 1 tablespoon tomato sauce,; Worcester sauce to taste, flour, salt, and pepper. Cut meat into small pieces, roll in seasoned flour and put into /casserole, add tomato and Worcester sauce. Just cover the meat with cold water and cook slowly in the oven. I always cook all stews in the oven as it prevents burnt saucepans, Dumplings can be added before serving. .“Plain Jane,” Taupiri. “WATERLESS STEW.” ljlb stewing steak cut up and rubbed slightly in flour, 4 goodsized onions, 6 good-sized carrots scraped and washed, pepper and salt, knob of butter the size of a walnut. ■ Put butter in saucepan, then layer of onion, meat, and carrot, repeat layers till all 5 vegetables and meat are used up'. Add pepper and salt to taste. Put on slow heat, shake saucepan gently at 10-minute intervals , until stew is boiling about J hr. You will then find your vegetables, etc., almost covered with liquid. Simmer slowly for 2 hours altogether. Do not add water or any liquid, and do not thicken; very rich and tasty. This can be done in casserole in oven, if desired. Either way is satisfactory. Mrs. R. J. Croucher, Henderson.

MUTTON STEW (BROWN). Cut a neck of mutton into conveni-ent-sized pieces, roll in flour and brown in a large saucepan (lid off) using 1 tablespoon of dripping. When browned put in 1 onion and ,3 or 4 carrots’ cut in small pieces and, in season a finely-sliced stalk of silver beet. Add 1 level teaspoon of salt, pepper to taste, and barely cover with hot water. Put lid on and cook gently for 2-2 J hours. Remove the meat to serving dish, skim off fat and thicken the gravy. Pour gravy and vegetables over the meat and serve very hot. Mrs. J. S. Tricker. OXTAIL AND KIDNEY STEW. 1 ox tail, 6 kidneys (sheep’s), 1 . teaspoon salt, 1 pt. water, loz drip- ‘ ping, loz flour, g . small teaspoon pepper, 1 large onion, 1 carrot, 1 turnip. Mix flour, salt, and pepper. Wash the tail and cut into joints; skin and halve the kidneys. Dip the joints and kidneys in the flour and brown them in the dripping, also the onion. Pour away the fat, add 1 pint of hot water, stew gently for 2 hours, add vegetables and stew another hour. Take out joints and kidney, strain the gravy and make it thicker with flour if necessary. Pour over meat and serve hot.— O. Stuart, Wellington. ", ' VEGETABLE TAP. Ig-lb topside, 2 parsnips, 3 large kumeras, pepper and salt, 6 small onions, 6 smallish carrots, 1 tablespoon chopped parsley. Cut meat into small pieces. Place in saucepan and cover with cold water. Add salt and pepper and put on to

cook slowly while the vegetables are being done. Now peel onions and carrots but leave them whole. Skin the kumeras and cut into pieces a little bigger than the onions. Then the parsnips are to be cut into small pieces, and then all the vegetables are to be put on top of the meat and slowly cooked for about 2 hours. Just before serving thicken with a little cornflour and then add the parsley.— Ferguson, Gleribrook.

CURRY STEW.•a leg mutton, 1 onion, 1 apple. 1 carrot and any other vegetable desired, handful'sultanas, 31b rice. Slice apple and onion and brown in a little dripping, add to the - mutton which has been cut into squares; add other vegetables and sultanas and seasoning, cover with water and simmer for 2 hours. Thicken and. flavour with curry. Serve with rice which has boiled, for 20 minutes in water and pinch salt. — “Blue Bell,” Temuka. RABBIT STEW. Take a nice young rabbit, joint it, and cut the ribs into two' pieces. Now peel and slice 3 large onions, put into a saucepan with a little dripping and cook until brown. Next add the rabbit, a piece at a time, and brown slowly. Now add about a quart of cold water and put to the back of the 'stove and simmer for 21- hours. Just before serving, thicken with cornflour. This is delicious and one rabbit goes a long way with a large — “Biddi-Jan,” Redcliffs. ' CRUNCHIES.' 1 cup flour, 1 cup coconut,, 1 cup rolled oats, 1 cup sugar, | -cup but--1 ter, 2 teaspoons golden syrup, 1 teaspoon bicarb, soda. Mix flour, coconut, rolled oats, and sugar. Melt butter and syrup, mix with soda dissolved in a little hot water, stir into' flour, etc., and bake in a slow oven. CUSTARD PATTIES. Puff pastry, I pint milk, 1 teaspoon cornflour, 2 eggs, 2 good teaspoons sugar, essence vanilla. Line patty tins with puff pastry, prick them well, .and bake till halfcooked. Bring milk to the boil, mix cornflour with a little cold milk or water, add the sugar, and stir into the milk. Flavour with essence of vanilla. When thick, beat eggs, and- stir in slowly. Fill the patties and bake, till done. PRUNES IN BATTER. Soak some prunes overnight, then drain, and dry the surface. Remove the stone carefully, and replace it with a blanched almond. Dip each prune into a good batter, and fry in deep fat until golden-brown. Drain, and sprinkle with castor sugar and cinnamon. , BACON AND MACARONI. - : 4oz. macaroni, bacon, tomato sauce, breadcrumbs, and seasoning. Boil the macaroni in salted water until soft, then drain' it. Grease a baking dish, and put in half the macaroni, then add a layer of 'fried bacon, cut -in dice. Cover , with' the rest of the macaroni, then with more diced

bacon, and the fat from frying it. Pour over enough tomato sauce to make it moist, and then scatter with browned breadcrumbs. Bake in a good oven until very hot, and serve at once. CREAM PIE. Line a pie-plate with puff pastry, mix 2 tablespoons flour and two-thirds of a cup of sugar. together, blend with J" cup milk, and 1 cup thick fresh cream, then stir in the stifly-whipped white of one egg.. Turn into pie-plate, and bake in a quick oven. , . YO-YO-BISCUITS. Take 6oz. each of butter and flour, 2oz. custard powder, 2oz. icing sugar. Cream the butter and sugar, add flour and custard powder, roll in small pieces, mark criss-cross with fork, and

bake 10 .minutes in a moderate oven. Join the biscuits together with icing, and ice the top, if desired. CORNISH APPLE FLAN. Short pastry, 4 large apples, p cupful each of seeded raisins and sugar, 1 lemon, 4oz. almonds, i teaspoonful ground cinnamon. Line flan .dish with short pastry, and bake in the usual way. Cool on a wire sieve. Peel, core, and chop up apples into saucepan, add blanched and chopped almonds, chopped raisins, sugar, cinnamon, and strained juice, also rind of lemon. Cover, and stew 5 minutes until apples are tender. Cool, put into the prepared-pastry case, dot with nuts of butter, and'make pipinghot in oven.

How to Get On

“Tell me how to get on in life,” said the kettle. “Take pains,” said the window. “Never be led,” said the pencil. ; “Do a driving business,” said the hammer. “Make light of everything,” said the fire. “Make much of small things,” said the microscope. “Never do anything offhand,” said the glove. “Reflect,” said the mirror. “Be sharp,” said the knife. . “Find a good thing and stick to it,” said the glue. “Try to make a good impression,” said the sealing wax.

Best Stew Recipe

The prize of 2/6 for the best stew recipe is awarded to Mrs. I. M. Quinlan, Matamata, for the following recipe:— BROWN STEW. 21b blade steak, 1 tablespoon dripping, 1 large onion, 2 large carrots, 1 medium potato, 1 cup dried peas (soak overnight), salt and pepper, hot water to cover. Method. the dripping and fry the onion in it, also the steak cut into dices and fried till brown. Add the hot water, carrot rings, peas, and salt and pepper. Lastly, grate in potato; this thickens the stew. Simmer gently until tender 2 to 21 hours.

Cakes for the Boys Overseas

TO-DAY nearly everyone regards their cooking for the boys overseas as -the most important part of their weekly baking. What is your favourite recipe for fruit cake? Economy is a vital element in cooking to-day, and perhaps your recipe is a better one than your neighbour uses. A prize of 2/6 is offered for the best fruit cake recipe sent to the “Mixing Bowl” before August 20th.