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SPINNING YARN—STRAW WORKING—MILKING TIME—PLUCKING
GEESE—SOAP MAKING—CHEESE MAKING—HOW SAUERKRAUT WAS MADE.
IN imagination we can see
the industrious aunt walking back and forth
beside the spinning-wheel, attaching a length
of carded wool to the spindle, then
twirling the monster wheel* and drawing the wool out
into yarn, stopping now and then to examine the thread
and singing to herself as she marches back and forth
over the floor. Day in and day out she keeps at it.
After she has a spindle full of yarn it is wound on the
reel into skeins, a peculiar clock-work contrivance
attached to the machine, making a click every time a
knot is wound on. After enough knots had been wound
on to make a skein, they were tied together and hung
up. Four skeins of fourteen knots each
was considered a good day's work. A machine
called "The Swift" was used
for unwinding the skeins when the yarn was being wound into balls.
For spinning flax a smaller wheel
was used. It was kept in motion by a treadle worked by the foot, the
operator sitting down while spinning. A bunch of flax was fastened on to
the distaff, a forked stick at the front end of the wheel. The white flax
was pulled off the distaff, attached to the spindle by the spinner, and
lengthened out into linen thread, which was tied into bundles called
"hanks."
The high wheel for spinning wool,
it appears, was used by most of the descendants of the settlers from the
United States, and was probably the kind used by the people of New
England, New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. The low wheel was used
mostly by the settlers from England, Ireland, Scotland and Germany.
Straw Working.
One of the many domestic
industries of the early time was the straw working. The stalks of grain
for this purpose, in order to prevent them from becoming too brittle, were
usually cut before the grain had thoroughly ripened and put away in
sheaves until wanted. Oat, wheat and rye straw (preferably rye, as it was
long and pliable) were the kinds mostly used, although the straw of the
wild rice, which grew in swales and swampy places, was considered
superior. The straw was first plaited into strands and then sewed together
into hats for both men and women, and for boys and girls. The hats were
bleached by exposure to the fumes of sulphur burnt in a covered box or
barrel. This kind of hat is still worn among the farmers. There are,
however, but comparatively few of the women nowadays who understand how to
make them, this work being generally done in hat factories. The straw
beehives were quite common fifty and sixty years ago. A strand of straw
was twisted into coarse rope, which, as it lengthened out, was coiled
(commencing at the top) into a conical-shaped hive. The coils were bound
together, as the hive took shape, with cords or strips of elm bark. This
kind of hive, although light, was lasting and made a warm home for the
bees during the long winter months. Baskets of all sizes were made of
straw on the same principle at the farm houses. Such straw work was both
strong and durable and, if well made, would outlast the Indian or splint
baskets. Among the Pennsylvania Dutch conical-shaped baskets made of straw
were used for raising their bread in.
Milking Time.
Nowadays on the farm hired men mostly do the milking,
the women usually having enough to do in the house, but years ago it was
as much a woman's work, if not more so than a man's, to do the milking.
About milking time might be seen the housewife with a sunbonnet or a
colored handkerchief tied over her head and several pails in her hand
hieing away to the barnyard to milk the cows. After the milk had been
emptied out of the pails, the latter were washed out and placed upside
down on the pickets of the garden fence to dry. We can see now, in
imagination, the grandmother, as she sat on the three-legged stool
milking, and, as Brindle switched her tail or moved her leg to shake off
some offending fly, nearly putting her foot into the pail or upsetting it,
we can hear grandmother saying, "So, bossie, so." Each milker had certain
cows to milk, it being thought that a cow would not yield its milk so
readily to a strange milker. It was the small boy's work to bring the cows
from the pasture field in the evening and take them back again in the
morning before going to school. He was generally accompanied back and
forth by the farm-house dog. The cows could be seen moving slowly toward
the bars in response to the familiar call of "Co, boss; co, boss; co, co,
co," those that lagged behind being brought up by the dog.
Plucking Geese.
The geese were generally plucked three or four times
during the year, or once in every seven weeks, commencing in the month of
June. In some places the practice is contrary to law, it being considered
as cruelty to animals, but in the early days it was very common, every
farmer keeping a flock of geese for this purpose. The plucking was done by
the women,* the down being made into pillows and feather ticks. Among the
Germans and Pennsylvania Dutch it was the custom, as a matter of economy
and comfort in the winter time, to have a feather tick on top instead of
quilts. To most of us, however, the greatest luxury in the way of a bed
was the old cord-bottomed bedstead, with its snugly- filled straw ticks,
woollen blankets and "patchwork" quilts. It was about as comfortable as
the modern spring mattress, although it had a tendency to sag in the
centre after it had been used a while. It was quite a feat for the small
children to clamber up the high sides of the tick when freshly filled with
straw. how father would stretch and strain as he tugged at the cords, or
with a stick or hammer handle twisted the round sides of the bed, in order
to screw it into the posts and so tighten the ropes attached to the knobs
on the outside of the rail when putting up the beds.
Soap Making.
We have previously mentioned that in our
grandfather's time nothing was wasted—everything was utilized. All scraps
of grease, fat, pork, rinds, etc., were thrown together in a box or barrel
until sufficient had been collected for making a batch of soap. This had
to be made in the right time of the moon, otherwise the soap would shrink
and not be so bulky, at least so our superstitious forefathers thought.
The lye used in making soap was obtained in plenty from hardwood ashes.
The ash leach was usually a permanent fixture in some out-of-the-way
corner of the back yard. Sometimes it was made out of a length of a hollow
basswood log, and also by knocking the bottom out of a barrel and setting
it on a board raised up from the ground several feet, and tilted so as to
carry off the lye, by a groove in the board, into a crock or pail placed
underneath. In the leach was placed, first, a layer of straw, then a
quantity of lime, and on that the ashes. Water was next poured on, which,
as it soaked through, dissolved the alkaline salt (caustic potash). The
making of a batch of soap usually occupied a whole day, from early morn
till late at night. A pole was hung on several crotched sticks placed in
the ground a few feet apart; on this the large iron kettle full of lye and
grease was placed and a brisk fire built underneath.
There were two kinds of soap—hard and soft. If hard soap was to be made it
required more boiling than for soft, besides the addition of a little salt
and resin.
In regard to the superstition as
to the time of the moon in which the soap had to be made, we might say it
is doubtful whether there is really anything in it, notwithstanding that
many people still hold to the belief. A soap manufacturer of many years'
experience told the writer that he paid no attention whatever to the moon
when making soap. This ought to be proof enough that the old idea is a
fallacy.
Potash.
Among the 'settlers the making of
potash was quite an industry, as it is yet in some of the backwoods
settlements. The ashes of the hardwood logs, after the log-heaps had been
burnt up, were gathered together and put into large wooden leaches. The
lye which was obtained was evaporated by boiling to obtain the residue,
which was crude potash. Great heat was necessary to boil down the lye. The
potash industry was quite a source of revenue to the pioneers. Quantities
were shipped to Montreal, where a fair price was obtained.
Cheese Making.
Nowadays, here and there through
the country, we find cheese factories. A wagon is sent round every morning
to collect the big cans of milk, which are filled after milking and left
standing on platforms by the roadside at the front of the farm. In the
early days there were no cheese factories, and therefore the farmers had
to make their own cheese. Usually this work was done by the women. The
ordinary or English cheese was made in the following manner: First, a calf
was killed, the stomach was taken out, rinsed off, and dried for the sake
of the rennet (pepsin) which it contained. The sweet milk was brought to
blood-heat, and a solution, made from small pieces of the rennet, added,
when the curd formed would separate. The whey was then drained off, the
curd cut up fine, seasoned with salt, and put in a lever-press (afterwards
screw), which removed the balance of the whey and pressed the curd into a
solid block of cheese. A cloth was then placed around each cheese, after
which it was set away until it was cured enough to be ready for use.
Among the German settlers it was
customary to make the sour milk into different kinds of cheese. One of the
most common kinds was the "schmier kase," or sour curd cheese, made by
taking sour milk after it had become thick, subjecting it to moderate
heat, or scalding it slightly, when the solid part of the milk would
separate from the whey; it was then put into a cloth bag and hung up to
drain. This kind of cheese, introduced by the Pennsylvania German
settlers, became popular among all classes living in the vicinity of the
German settlements. It is a wholesome and delicious article of diet.
Usually cream was added when made ready for the table.
The "hand kase," or bail cheese,
was made by taking the same cheese, seasoning it with salt and butter, and
then rolling it by the hand into balls, and laying it away to ripen or
cure.
The pot cheese was made by taking
the sour curd cheese, packing it in a crock after seasoning, and setting
it away in a warm place to decay or ripen. Among the Germans it was
greatly relished. The odor from it was not unlike that of the famous
"Limburger," and to a person unaccustomed to it was rather offensive.
How Sauer Kraut was Made.
A certain medical writer has
called sauer kraut "rotten cabbage." Even though it may be cabbage in a
somewhat putrid or fermented state, and unfit food for persons with weak
digestion, it certainly served a helpful purpose on the bill of fare of
the early settler, especially in the winter time, when green vegetables
and fresh meats were scarce. It was rightly considered a preventative of
scurvy, and for that reason is generally laid in stock by sailors and
soldiers who expect to have to subsist for any length of time on salted
provisions. The Germans are credited with being the originators of this
article of diet, and even now among them its use is more common than among
other classes of people.
The usual method of preparing
sauer kraut by our forefathers was as follows: in the afternoon the
cabbage was gathered and brought into the house, and in the evening it was
trimmed of its outer leaves and cut fine. Some would use a bright clean
spade for cutting it up, but most folks had a board with knives fitted in,
the sharp edge of the knives projecting slightly as in a plane. On this a
box without a bottom, raised up above the knives by cleats at the sides of
the board, was placed. The board being placed over the top of an empty
barrel, the box was filled with cabbage, and as it was run back and forth
over the board the cabbage was cut into shreds and dropped into the barrel
beneath. The cabbage was arranged in the barrel in layers, with a goodly
quantity of salt between each layer. After the barrel was filled the
cabbage was stomped down with a wooden stomper, then covered with boards,
on which were placed heavy stones, when it was left for several weeks or a
month to ferment or become sour, when it was ready for use. In order to
keep the sauer kraut from spoiling, the brine which formed was always
supposed to cover the cabbage. Among the Old Country Germans it is said
(although the veracity of the statement has never been vouched for) that
the cabbage was stomped down with the bare feet. This should be no
detriment to the cabbage; provided the feet were clean.
In pressing the grape in the wine
countries of Europe the help of the naked feet is resorted to, and the
wine is none the worse of the process. But still the weight of evidence is
against the belief that this practice has ever been adopted in preparing
cabbage for sauer kraut.
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