Original in GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.

HOLIDAY CARVING.

together with a strong thread and fasten it over on the back. Bring the wings and thighs up close to the body and fasten them in position either with skewers or by tying with twine.

HOW THEY SHOULD BE CARVED AND SERVED.

T is as absurd to expect any one to carve well without any conception of the internal structure of what may be placed before him, as to expect one to amputate a limb successfully who has no knowledge of human anatomy. If you have some notion of the names and the relative position of the bones, joints and muscles, you will not look for the oyster behind the wing, or the pope's nose near the head, or for white meat on the thigh. The best way to learn about carving poultry or game is to cut them up for a stew or fricassee, provided care be taken not to chop them but to disjoint them skilfully. And as practice makes perfection in carving, as well as in every other art, never allow yourself to be careless about it.

An essential aid to easy carving, and one often overlooked, is that the platter be large enough to hold the portions of meat as they are carved, as well as the whole fowl. The persistency with which some housekeepers cling to a small dish for fear the fowl will look lost on a larger one often makes successful carving impossible, and inward cursing abundant. The platter should be placed near the carver that he may easily reach any part of the fowl without turning the fowl around. The carver may stand or sit as suits his convenience. A very important matter is the quality and condition of the knife. It should be made from the best steel, and have a narrow, thin, pointed blade, and a handle easy to grasp, and be of a size adapted to the article to be carved and to the

TO CARVE A TURKEY.

person using it. Be as particular to keep it sharp as to have it bright and clean, and never allow it to be used to cut bread or for any other than its legitimate purpose. There should be a crook or guard on the end of the handle to enable the carver to grasp it more securely and use all the strength necessary. The handle should be long enough to reach from the tip of the fore finger to an inch beyond the back side of the hand so that the edge of the hand, about an inch above the wrist, rests against the handle of the knife. In dividing a difficult joint the manipulations should be made, not by turning the hand, but by turning the knife with the fingers. In this way the position of the point of the blade can be more easily changed as the joint may require.

The fork should have two slender, curving tines about three-eights of an inch apart and two and a half inches long, and should have a guard.

Turkeys should be carefully trussed. Slip the skin of the neck back and cut off the neck close to the body, leaving at least three inches of the skin on the bird. After filling the space where the crop was with stuffing, draw the neck skin

the side bone and fastened above the tail, or they may be outside of the side bone and fastened, one on each side of the tail, with a short skewer. Skewers are preferable to twine as they more surely hold the bird in position.

After cooking, remove all the skewers and the strings from the neck and apron; free the ends of the drum sticks from the body and trim them with a paper ruffle. Take a piece of thin white paper 8 inches long by 11⁄2 inches wide, fold it lengthwise and begin at the folded edge and cut half way across the width in narrow strips % of an inch apart. Open the paper and paste one uncut edge slightly below the other so the cut portion will have a rounded appearance. When dry, take one end and coil it around the end of the drum stick. This will enable the carver to touch the drum sticks, if necessary, without soiling his hands.

Skilful carvers do not agree as to the position of a bird on the platter. Some prefer to have the neck at the right hand, but I think the majority prefer to have it at the left. Some can cut more easily toward the right than toward the left hand, just as some women can needle a thread more easily than they can thread a needle. The carving will be done with more grace if the one who carves works easily and naturally, instead of attempting to follow an arbitrary rule. The position of the bird in these directions is with the neck at the left.

But all who carve, whether skilfully or awkwardly, do agree that the largest platter that can be found is none too large for a turkey. Should the turkey fill the space within the rim of the platter, provide an extra dish, also a fork for serving.

It facilitates the work of carving to remove the drum sticks first. Take the end of the drum stick, protected by the ruffle, in the left hand, and cut it off at the joint. The joint in the leg is not quite in the middle of the curve but a trifle nearer the thigh. It requires some practice to strike this joint in the right spot, and if the bird be very tender or overcooked the second joint or side bone even may come off with the drum sticks. So be careful not to pull the leg away from the body but make a straight cut from the top of the joint, down and through the joint, then lay the leg to one side.

This is not a common method of carving but I have often seen it done very skilfully. It is much easier than to hold the drum stick with the fork while separating it from the second joint after they have been taken from the body, and if it be taken off before the end of the bone or the ruffle becomes moistened by contact with the juice of the cut meat, the fingers will not be soiled. If the turkey be very large, slice the meat from the leg as soon as it is cut off and then lay the bone aside on the extra dish. The drum sticks are often not used at the first serving of the turkey, but are deviled and broiled for another meal.

Put the fork in firmly as far as it will go across the middle of the breast bone, and if the whole bird is to be carved do not remove it until the breast is separated from the back.

Opinions vary as to which should be removed first, the wing or the leg, but it is safe to follow this general rule: If the wing be so long, or the bird be trussed in such a way that the end of the wing comes close to the thigh, remove the wing first and then it will not be in the way when removing the second joint.

Cut through the flesh on the top of the shoulder, work the point of the knife into the joint and press it outward, and when the joint separates cut through the flesh close to the body but do not take any of the breast with the wing. Then cut through the skin between the thigh, or second joint, and

the body. Bend the leg over with the knife and the joint will be disclosed. Cut through the flesh from above down toward the tail and if the joint does not separate easily turn the knife and cut from the tail toward the joint. Make a clean cut, not a jagged one, and leave a generous portion of the meat on the side bone. Then remove the wing and second joint on the other side.

Sometimes the side bone will separate from the back and come off with the second joint, and many prefer to take it off at this time. It can be done by cutting the skin above and pressing the knife in close to the back bone, cutting along the edge and prying it off. But if the bird be tough, do not attempt it at this stage of the process. The side bone is by many considered the choicest portion, and is often left untouched because the carver is too negligent to offer it, or the guest does not like to express a preference for it for fear of exposing the host's inability to carve it easily.

Shave off the breast in thin slices, beginning just above the wing and slanting slightly from the front of the breast bone down toward the wing. Be careful to take a portion of crisp outside on the edge of each slice. The knife must have a very keen edge to enable you to do this neatly. By cutting in this slanting direction the meat is cut across the grain instead of with the grain, as is the case when the cuts are parallel with the breast bone.

After the breast is carved, cut across the crisp skin near the neck and below the breast in order to reach the stuffing. Insert the point of the knife at the front of the breast bone, turn back the wish bone and separate it. Press the point of the knife through the cartilage at each side of the front of the breast bone, separating the collar bones from the breast. Tip the body slightly, slip the knife under the end of the shoulder blade (it lies close to the back bone not quite half way down from the neck) and turn it over toward the wing joint. Repeat this process on the opposite side. Cut across the thin ribs, or through the cartilage which divides the ribs, on each side, separating the breast bone from the back. Lay the breast bone to one side, and now remove the fork from it. Take the stuffing from the back. Turn the back over, place the knife midway just below the ribs and with the fork lift up the tail end, separating the back from the upper part of the body. Place the fork in the middle of the back bone and cut close to the back bone from one end to the other on each side, freeing the side bone.

It is not often necessary to cut up the whole body of the turkey, and even if the meat will be needed, it can be taken off without disjointing the bones. After the breast is sliced. and the wish bone removed (which some child is always sure to want), tip the bird over slightly and with the point of the knife remove the oyster lying in the hollow of the side bone, and also the small portion of dark meat found on the lower end of the side bone. The pope's nose is a choice bit relished by many. Then remove the fork and divide the wings at the joints; if the drum sticks were not taken off at first, separate them from the second joint. Cut off the meat from the second joint of the wing and also from the thigh, as these, when large, are more than one person requires, and it is inconvenient to have so large bones on one's plate. If no preference be expressed, help equally to both light and dark meat and stuffing.

If the family be small and the turkey is to be served for a second dinner, carve only from the side nearest you. Then the turkey will be left with one half entire, and, if placed in a clean platter with the cut side nearest the carver and garnished with parsley, will present nearly as fine an appearance to all but the carver as when first served.

The second or third serving of a turkey depends very much upon the care taken in putting it away. Do not, as is so often

done, leave it on the platter just as it came from the table but put the crumbs of stuffing back into the body, put the slices of cut meat together, and cover them with the skin or protect them from the air so they will not become hard. Should there be nothing left apparently but the bones, do not let them become dry by being exposed to the air, but scrape off every particle of the meat and stuffing at once. Cover the meat until you are ready to use it, and put the bones on to boil for soup or gravy. Often from a seemingly bare carcass enough may be obtained to make a savory dish of scalloped meat sufficient for another meal.

A green goose neatly trussed and "done to a turn" looks very tempting on the platter, but there is so little meat in proportion to the size of the bird that unless it be skilfully carved only a small number can be served. The breast of a goose is

TO CARVE A GOOSE.

broader and flatter than that of a turkey. It should be carved differently, although many writers give the same directions for carving both. The ligaments connecting the bones are usually very tough, and much more skill and strength are required than for carving other fowls.

Place it on the platter with the head at the left. Insert the knife firmly across the ridge of the breast bone. Cut through the flesh where the wing joins the body, work the point of the knife into the joint and with the side of the knife press the wing over from the body, and cut until the joint separates. Then cut through the flesh and separate it from the body. Cut between the leg and the body, press the leg over with the side of the knife until you see the joint. Then cut through the flesh close to the body. If it be a tender bird the joint will separate easily as soon as the leg is bent over, but if it be old and tough you will have to feel with the knife for the joint. This thigh joint is tougher and requires more skill in separating than the second joint of a turkey. It lies farther under and nearer the back bone. But practice and familiarity with its location will enable one to strike it accurately. In carving the breast, begin at the wing and cut straight down through the meat to the bone the whole length of the breast, as indicated by the long lines in the cut. Cut down in the same way in parallel slices as thin as can be cut until you come to the ridge of the breast bone. Cut down between the wish bone and the breast to the wing, then slip the knife under the slices at the lower end of the breast and separate them from the bone. Lay them aside, then cut in the same manner on the other side of the breast. Make several cuts at right angles with the breast bone through the skin and stuffing between the breast and tail, and remove the stuffing.

With the fork still in the breast bone, tip the bird over slightly and with the point of the knife remove the delicate portion in the hollow of the side bone; a little may be shaved off from the lower edge of the side bone. Separate the wish bone from the point of the breast. It will be found to be more curving than that of a turkey, and exceedingly difficult to separate at its junction with the wing joint. The collar bone, shoulder blade, breast bone and side bone may be separated according to the directions for carving a turkey.

Unless you need the practice or wish to exercise what skill you already possess, it is not worth while to cut up the whole

didn't want to be selfish, but she did want her tree. Suddenly her brow cleared and she exclaimed in triumph, "Let's have both, mamma!”

There was a general laugh, and Aunt Jessie exclaimed, "We can have both of course. Daisy can have all the ornaments for her tree, and I am sure that Ruth, Rob, Marian and I can fix a tree for the kitchen very nicely!"

Mamma hesitated a little, thinking that this was hardly the way to teach Daisy generosity, but Daisy was only a baby after all, and it ended by Aunt Jessie having her own wayas she generally did.

We formed a society then and there, with Aunt Jessie for president, and mamma and papa for honorary members. We took up a collection, and as mamma and рара each gave half a dollar we received a little over two dollars, which we spent as follows:

candle holders @ 20 cents, 4 yards paper cambric @ 6 cents, 4 dozen pop corn @ 10 cents,

10 sheets tissue paper,
Colored papers,

Cheap cologne,
Pink sugar,
Total,

$0 15

30

24

40

IO

30

20

IO

$1 79

This left us a little money which we spent in candy to put with the pop corn that we had decided to use in its place, as it was so much cheaper.

First we made the decorations. Some of the papers were cut into strips a third of an inch wide and three or four inches long, and made into chains. Then we made cornucopias of all sizes, from little tiny ones "for looks" to big ones which we filled with pop corn. Ruth and Daisy had a great many silver "Sapolio" papers, and out of them we made stars and shields and cut letters to decorate tissue paper banners and flags. Aunt Jessie drew on two or three of the papers quaint little figures which we cut out, making pretty silver silhouettes; but everything that we made out of these wrappers had either to be made double or to be pasted upon card board. Very marvelous tissue paper flowers of all shapes and sizes were made, but the strings of pop corn made the prettiest trimming of all.

Making the presents was still greater fun. We collected all the old Christmas and birthday cards and advertisements that we could find and they were invaluable to us. The cards with the prettiest faces were saved for paper dolls, the bodies being made of card board and the dresses of tissue paper. Two or three of the largest cards were pasted upon old box covers and then cut into odd, irregular shapes so as to make puzzles, and a few more were framed with pressed leaves, but most of them were used for scrap books. Two scrap books were made of old seed catalogues filled with cards and pictures, and three of cambric. Then Aunt Jessie and I hunted up some old ribbons which we pressed and dyed so that they looked almost as good as new. Ruth found a number of little medicine bottles (which had contained homeopathic pills) that she washed, filled with cheap cologne, and fastened upon cards, while Rob and Daisy made pinwheels, the former whittling the handles, and the latter cutting the papers.

Daisy, by the way, as soon as she found that she could have her own tree, became very generous and contributed not a little to our store. Mamma and auntie gave her some odds and ends of worsteds, and mamma showed her how to make reins with a spool and four pins, and the little maiden was so industrious that she made two pairs before Christmas. Ruthie, however, made the greatest success.

We had been working all day with the colored papers, and the table was covered with scraps of all shades and sizes.

"It seems a pity to throw all these away," I remarked as I was clearing the table, "but I don't know what else to do with them."

"Oh, Marian, don't throw them away," cried Ruth, "I know what we can do with them. Don't you remember that when Cousin Nell was sick there was nothing she liked better than the box of papers cut into different shapes, stars and diamonds and all such things? There were none of them more than an inch square, and she used to make patterns in the different colors, and with fifty pieces she made hundreds of patterns."

Ruth's plan worked very nicely, for it used up the scraps, and it was fascinating to cut the little circles, shells, scallops -in short, any pretty shapes we could think of-from the bright papers. We made several lots of fifty each and put them into envelopes, and we learned afterwards that none of our presents gave more satisfaction than these.

Our last venture was "sliced animals." The pictures were cut from books and papers, pasted upon card board, and cut into strips; and, as the children were not critical, it made no difference that the pictures were of different sizes. Of course all the extra work, in addition to the presents for the family, kept us very busy, but how we did enjoy it! And, as Christmas drew near, what jolly times we had in the kitchen popping (and eating) corn while Aunt Cindy told us stories! And what fun we had gathering greens in the woods and trimming the house and setting up the two trees,-for Daisy was to have her's Christmas morning.

But most of all I wish I could tell you of Christmas night in the kitchen. The big tree looked so pretty that we felt justly proud of our work, and if we needed any reward we had it when at seven o'clock we let the people in. Benches and chairs had been brought into the room and every one was occupied, and such a lot of bright faces when the candles were lighted! Mamma had added a few substantial gifts for the older ones so that there was something for every one, and everybody was so pleased! Ma'y Jane, skipping here and there like a streak of very black lightening, was in her element, and acted, after the first excitement was over, as if Christmas trees were every day occurrences,—although very pleasant ones.

All too soon the candles burned out and the kitchen was in darkness; but suddenly a big log in the fireplace burst into flame, sending ruddy light over the happy faces; then some one began to sing. And how they did sing! heads, hands and feet keeping time, and yet not making noise enough to spoil the tune. For a long time they sang the old camp-meeting songs (we having gone into the library, leaving the doors open so that we could hear plainly); then they began to leave, two and three at a time. But as the last ones left the house

they began a song again, and we heard the words growing fainter and fainter in the distance :

"I'm sure I'm right, so how can I be wrong?
Down with Jesus in de valley."

And then-the clock struck twelve and Christmas day had gone.

Original in GoOD HOUSEKEEPING.

-Dorothy Nelson.

A NEWSPAPER PARAGRAPHER SAYS: That what a sober man thinks, the drunkard tells. That, although a woman's age is her own, she does not own it. That the great high-road of human welfare lies along the old highway of steadfast well-doing.

That it is the easiest thing in the world to discover all the defects in a man when we do not like him.

That a man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds; therefore, let him seasonably water the one and destroy the other.

Original in GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.

CHRISTMAS CARDS

"BLOOMING WITH FLOWERS AND GOODLY WITH FRUITS."

EFORE the days of Christmas cards, it was often a puzzle to the gift-giver what should be bestowed upon certain recipients. The purse might be heavy, time plenty and taste not wanting, but various sensibilities had to be respected, various prejudices observed, and the glory of gift-giving was sometimes obscured by the research, care and study involved. All that has passed away within this decade. A visit to the nearest art-store does, indeed, produce embarrassment, but it is an embarrassment of riches. There are spread before you not scores, but hundreds of cards, showing every kind and degree of artistic talent, and picturing, one might almost say, everything in the

known world.

You choose a tiny one for the child, fringed and tasseled to please baby eyes; large and more luxurious for the dainty maiden; a restful one, a sea or sky view, for the tired eyes of the mother; and for the grandmother, a picture that, following her known likings, shall help to make the latest of many Christmases the very happiest.

Nor is a Christmas card a suitable gift for ladies only. Grandpapa likes one to keep his place in the big Bible; papa has his little daughter's gift pinned high on the wall over his desk; even the Harvard student disdains not to add such a trophy to the many relics that decorate-or otherwise-his room at college; and the ten-year-old youngster proudly adds to his overflowing scrap-book the last Christmas card. Each has a legend or melodious verse; each is bestowed with love enough for a hundred gifts; your duty is done, your happiness increased in this simple manner, for by making others happy, you kindle a live and lasting glow in your own heart. The social, the beauteous and friendly side of life is shown in this charming way, and harmonies of all kinds spring from it. It is almost impossible to set bounds to the influence which our Christmas cards may carry. Far and wide they fly, each year extending their circuit. Nothing coarse, nothing low or unrefined ever finds room here; the humblest card bears a message of good will and loving kindness which must surely leave its impress. It is universally admitted that culture of the eye to perceive the beautiful and to admire it, opens the heart and elevates the understanding; and as far as Christmas cards help along to this desirable end, they do a work worthy of the season which celebrates the birthday of One whose life was spent in helping and uplifting. While the education of the heart and head is going on simultaneously, surely a great and noble work is done, and the means by which it is accomplished cannot be called small or unworthy.

What, now, are the requisites for the ideal Christmas card? Primarily, it must bear some reference to the beautiful and gracious Life the mortal birth of which this day commemorates. It shall contain the lineaments of little children, because this is pre-eminently a child's holiday. It shall blossom with flowers and be goodly with fruits. It shall in this latitude, so please you, be brilliant with frost and snow. Stars shall twinkle through it, and pictured birds add their mute music. It must contain no dark shades, no grotesque shapes must disfigure its fair face; it must shadow forth, plainly as picture can, the gladness of the time, the "Peace on earth, good will to men" that rings across the centuries; and if, in addition to the artist's pencil, the poet who still hears echoing in his soul the song of the angels, can reproduce it in mortal fashion and inscribe it below the picture, then is our Christmas card complete.

Let the artist approach this work with reverent and faithful effort, for it shall meet the eyes of thousands whom he knows not. Whatever is holy, whatever is high, whatever is beautiful, is none too good for a Christmas card. When the real significance of each picture is shown, it must be so that he who runs may read; plain and unmistakable, it shall indicate that its aim is not only to cheer, but elevate; not only help, but make happy. An artist who strives with all the strength he possesses, cannot fail, invisible throngs of angels shall guide him to success.

A Christmas card is a gift which pleases all and can offend none. It is suited to all ages and conditions in life. It may be made to fit all purses, slender or plump. Many persons bestow Christmas cards who would know not how to give, were this pretty and easy way not revealed. Of course our cards differ, as one star differeth from another star in glory, but all shine with the light of good will and patient effort. And with what a wealth of fancy are these cards adorned! Plush-mounted, silk-trimmed, arrayed in satin and velvet, gold and silver, nothing is known too good for the embellishment of Christmas cards. In varied shapes they troop; banners and bannerets, stars, shields, fans, easels, screens and crosses and a hundred dainty conceptions that add to their beauty and value. Each artist's peculiar technique is faithfully preserved in the adornment of his card, and fringes and tassels are subordinate to its beauty.

Then let the good work go on. As long as love is better than disdain, as long as friendship is better than enmity, let Christmas cards fly on their errands of peace, and God speed them to their destination! -Eleanor W. F. Bates.

Original in GoOD HOUSEKEEPING.

CHRISTMAS HYMN.
Along Judea's vales

Went up a gladsome cry,

When through her vine-clad hills and dales The Nazarene passed by.

Forth from their darkened homes, The sick and maimed they bear; The beggar from the wayside comes, The leper from his lair.

They throng the city street,

The Jordan's waves they stem,
To lay their burdens at His feet,
Or touch His garment's hem.
Lo! from the frozen North
To summer's torrid sway,
Through all the highways of the earth,
The Christ will pass to-day.

He comes to-day who came
The Judean hills among,
And children lisp His hallowed name
In every land and tongue.
Peace to the troubled breast!
Light to the darkened eye!
And to the weary-ladened, rest!
Jesus is passing by.

-Elizabeth M. Griswold.

"WHAT is music, if sweet words

Rising from tender fancies be not so?
Methinks there is no sound so gentle,
None, not even the South-wind young, when first he comes
Wooing the lemon-flowers, for whom he leaves
The coasts of Baiae; not melodious springs,
Though heard i' the stillness of their native hills;
Not the rich viol, trump, cymbal, nor horn,
Guitar nor cittern, nor the pining flute,

Are half so sweet as tender human words."-Proctor.