The sight was a sad one. We realized the hand of time had crumbled to dust both the potter and his clay. Still nearer my old home was the McEntee pottery. From earliest childhood our families were friends. We all attended the "Crossroads" School, where years later a more modern brick structure was built, under the hill; not far distant from "The Narrows" and the "Ringing Rocks." Yes, Mary, my memory goes back to the time when the McEntee pottery was a flourishing industry, operated by three brothers, John, Patrick and Michael. When last I visited them but few landmarks remained."
"Was there a pottery on your father"s farm, Aunt Sarah?" inquired Mary.
"No. The nearest one was the McEntee pottery, but the grandson of the old man who purchased our old farm at my father"s death had a limekiln for the purpose of burning lime, and several miles distant, at the home of my uncle, was found clay suitable for the manufacture of bricks. Only a few years ago this plant was still in operation. My father"s farm was situated in the upper part of Bucks County, in what was then known as the Nockamixon Swamp, and at one time there were in that neighborhood no less than seven potteries within two miles of each other."
"Why," exclaimed Mary, "were there so many potteries in that locality?"
""Twas due, no doubt, to the large deposits of clay found there, well suited to the manufacture of earthenware. The soil is a clayey loam, underlaid with potter"s clay. The old German potters, on coming to this country, settled mostly in Eastern Pennsylvania, in the counties of Bucks and Montgomery. The numerous small potteries erected by the early settlers were for the manufacture of earthenware dishes, also pots of graded sizes. These were called nests, and were used princ.i.p.ally on the farm for holding milk, cream and apple-b.u.t.ter. Jugs and pie plates were also manufactured. The plates were visually quite plain, but they produced occasionally plates decorated with conventionalized tulips, and some, more elaborate, contained besides figures of animals, birds and flowers. Marginal inscriptions in English and German decorate many of the old plates, from which may be learned many interesting facts concerning the life and habits of the early settlers. I think, judging from the inscriptions I have seen on some old plates, it must have taxed the ingenuity of the old German potters to think up odd, original inscriptions for their plates."
"Aunt Sarah, how was sgraffito ware made? Is it the same as slip-decorated pottery?"
"No, my dear, the two are quite different. The large plate you so greatly admired is called sgraffito or scratched work, sometimes called slip engraving. It usually consists of dark designs on a cream-colored ground. After the plates had been shaped over the mold by the potter, the upper surface was covered by a coating of white slip, and designs were cut through this slip to show the earthenware underneath. This decoration was more commonly used by the old potters than slip decorating, which consisted in mixing white clay and water until the consistency of cream. The liquid clay was then allowed to run slowly through a quill attached to a small cup, over the earthenware (before burning it in a kiln) to produce different designs. The process is similar to that used when icing a cake, when you allow the icing to run slowly from a pastry tube to form fanciful designs. I have watched the old potters at their work many a time when a child. The process employed in the manufacture of earthenware is almost the same today as it was a century ago, but the appliances of the present day workmen are not so primitive as were those of the old German potters. Mary, a new pottery works has been started quite lately in the exact locality where, over one hundred years ago, were situated the Dichl and Headman potteries, where my highly-prized, old sgraffito plate was manufactured. I hear the new pottery has improved machinery for the manufacture of vases, flower pots, tiles, etc. They intend manufacturing princ.i.p.ally "Spanish tiles" from the many acres of fine clay found at that place. The clay, it is said, burns a beautiful dark, creamy red. As you are so much interested in this subject, Mary, we shall visit this new pottery some day in the near future, in company with your Uncle John. It is no great distance from the farm. Quite an interesting story I have heard in connection with a pottery owned by a very worthy Quaker in a near-by town may interest you, as your father was a Philadelphia Quaker and Ralph"s parents were Quakers also."
[Ill.u.s.tration: A-38 Schmutz Amschel]
[Ill.u.s.tration: A-39 Antiquated Tin Lantern]
[Ill.u.s.tration: A-40 Schmutz Amschel]
[Ill.u.s.tration: A-41 Fluid Lamp]
[Ill.u.s.tration: A-42 Candle Mould]
"Yes, indeed, Aunt Sarah! I"d love to hear the story."
"This Quaker sympathized with the colored race, or negroes, in the South. This was, of course, before slavery was abolished. You don"t remember that time, Mary, You are too young. It is only history to you, but I lived it, and when the slaves ran away from their owners and came North to Philadelphia they were sent from there, by sympathizers, to this Quaker, who kept an underground station. The slaves were then placed, under his direction, in a high "pot wagon,"
covered with layers or nests of earthenware pots of graduated sizes. I heard the driver of one of these pot wagons remark one time that when going down a steep hill, he put on the brake and always held his breath until the bottom of the hill was reached, fearing the pots might all be broken. The wagon-load containing earthenware and slaves was driven to Stroudsburg, where the pots were delivered to a wholesale customer. Here the runaways were released from their cramped quarters and turned over to sympathizing friends, who a.s.sisted them in reaching Canada and safety. I have frequently met the fine-looking, courtly old gentleman who owned the pottery, and old Zacariah Mast, the skilled German potter whom he employed. They were for many years familiar figures in the little Quaker town, not many miles distant.
Both pa.s.sed away many years ago."
Mary, who still continued her explorations of the corner cupboard, exclaimed: "Oh! Aunt Sarah! Here is another odd, old plate, way back on the lop shelf, out of sight."
"Yes, dear, that belonged to your Uncle John"s mother. It has never been used and was manufactured over one hundred years ago at an old pottery in Bedminister Township, Bucks County. Some of those other quaint, old-fashioned plates also belonged to John"s mother. Your Uncle loves old dishes and especially old furniture; he was so anxious to possess his grandfather"s old "Solliday" clock. In the centre of the face of the clock a hand indicated the day of the month and pictures of two large, round moons on the upper part of the clock"s face (resembling nothing so much as large, ripe peaches) represented the different phases of the moon. If new moon, or the first or last quarter, it appeared, then disappeared from sight. It was valued highly, being the last clock made by the old clockmaker; but John never came into possession of it, as it was claimed by an elder sister. I value the old clock which stands in the parlor because "twas my mother"s, although it is very plain. This old cherry, corner cupboard was made for my grandmother by her father, a cabinetmaker, as a wedding gift, and was given me by my mother. Did you notice the strong, substantial manner in which it is made? It resembles mission furniture."
"Do tell me, Aunt, what this small iron boat, on the top shelf, was ever used for? It must be of value, else "twould not occupy a place in the cupboard with all your pretty dishes."
"Yes, dearie, "twas my grandmother"s lamp, called in old times a "Schmutz Amschel" which, translated, means a grease robin, or bird. I have two of them. I remember seeing my grandmother many a time, when the "Amschel" was partly filled with melted lard or liquid fat, light a piece of lamp wick hanging over the little pointed end or snout of the lamp. The lamp was usually suspended from a chain fastened to either side. A spike on the chain was stuck into the wall, which was composed of logs. This light, by the way, was not particularly brilliant, even when one sat close beside it, and could not be compared with the gas and electric lights of our present day and generation. That was a very primitive manner of illumination used by our forefathers.
"Mary, did you notice the gayly-decorated, old-fashioned coffee pot and tea caddy in the corner cupboard? They belonged to my grandmother; also that old-fashioned fluid lamp, used before coal-oil or kerosene came into use; and that old, perforated tin lantern also is very ancient.
"Mary, have you ever read the poem, The Potter and the Clay?" No? Then read it to me, dear, I like it well; "tis a particular favorite of mine, I do not remember by whom it was written."
THE POTTER AND THE CLAY.
(Jeremiah xviii 2-6.)
The potter wrought a work in clay, upon his wheel; He moulded it and fashioned it, and made it feel, In every part, his forming hand, his magic skill, Until it grew in beauty fair beneath his will.
When lo! through some defect, "twas marred and broken lay, Its fair proportions spoiled, and it but crumbling clay; Oh, wondrous patience, care and love, what did he do?
He stooped and gathered up the parts and formed anew.
He might have chosen then a lump of other clay On which to show his skill and care another day, But no; he formed it o"er again, as seemed him good; And who has yet his purpose scanned, his will withstood?
Learn thou from this a parable of G.o.d"s great grace Toward the house of Israel, His chosen race; He formed them for His praise; they fell and grieved Him sore, But He will yet restore and bless them evermore.
And what He"ll do for Israel, He"ll do for thee; Oh soul, so marred and spoiled by sin, thou yet shall see That He has power to restore, He will receive, And thou shall know His saving grace, only believe.
Despair not, He will form anew thy scattered life, And gather up the broken parts, make peace from strife; Only submit thou to His will of perfect love, And thou shall see His fair design in Heaven above.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE VALUE OF WHOLESOME, NUTRITIOUS FOOD.
"Yes, my dear," said Frau Schmidt (continuing a conversation which had occurred several days previously between herself and Mary), "we will have more healthful living when the young housewife of the present day possesses a knowledge of different food values (those food products from which a well-balanced meal may be prepared) for the different members of her household. She should endeavor to buy foods which are most nourishing and wholesome; these need not necessarily consist of the more expensive food products. Cheaper food, if properly cooked, may have as fine a flavor and be equally as nutritious as that of higher price.
"And, Mary, when you marry and have a house to manage, if possible, do your own marketing, and do not make the mistake common to so many young, inexperienced housewives, of buying more expensive food than, your income will allow. Some think economy in purchasing food detrimental to their dignity and to the well-being of their families; often the ones most extravagant in this respect are those least able to afford it. Frequently the cause of this is a lack of knowledge of the value of different foods. The housewife with a large family and limited means should purchase cheaper cuts of meat, which become tender and palatable by long simmering. Combine them with different vegetables, cooked in the broth, and serve as the princ.i.p.al dish at a meal, or occasionally serve dumplings composed of a mixture of flour and milk, cooked in the broth, to extend the meat flavor. Frequently serve a dish of rice, hominy, cornmeal and oatmeal, dried beans and peas. These are all nutritious, nourishing foods when properly cooked and attractively served. And remember, Mary, to always serve food well seasoned. Many a well-cooked meal owes its failure to please to a lack of proper seasoning. This is a lesson a young cook must learn. Neither go to the other extreme and salt food too liberally. Speaking of salt, my dear, have you read the poem, "The King"s Daughters," by Margaret Vandegrift? If not, read it, and then copy it in your book of recipes."
"THE KING"S DAUGHTERS."
The King"s three little daughters, "neath the palace window straying, Had fallen into earnest talk that put an end to playing; And the weary King smiled once again to hear what they were saying; "It is I who love our father best," the eldest daughter said; "I am the oldest princess," and her pretty face grew red; "What is there none can do without? I love him more than bread."
Then said the second princess, with her bright blue eyes aflame; "Than bread, a common thing like bread! Thou hast not any shame!
Glad am I, it is I, not thou, called by our mother"s name; I love him with a better love than one so tame as thine, More than--Oh! what then shall I say that is both bright and fine?
And is not common? Yes, I know. I love him more than wine."
Then the little youngest daughter, whose speech would sometimes halt, For her dreamy way of thinking, said, "Nay, you are both in fault.
"Tis I who love our father best, I love him more than salt."
Shrill little shrieks of laughter greeted her latest word, As the two joined hands exclaiming. "But this is most absurd!"
And the King, no longer smiling, was grieved that he had heard, For the little youngest daughter, with her eyes of steadfast grey, Could always move his tenderness, and charm his care away; "She grows more like her mother dead," he whispered day by day, "But she is very little and I will find no fault, That while her sisters strive to see who most shall me exalt, She holds me nothing dearer than a common thing like salt."
The portly cook was standing in the courtyard by the spring, He winked and nodded to himself, "That little quiet thing Knows more than both the others, as I will show the King."
That afternoon, at dinner, there was nothing fit to eat.
The King turned angrily away from soup and fish and meat, And he found a cloying sweetness in the dishes that were sweet; "And yet," he muttered, musing, "I cannot find the fault; Not a thing has tasted like itself but this honest cup of malt."
Said the youngest princess, shyly: "Dear father, they want salt."
A sudden look of tenderness shone on the King"s dark face, As he sat his little daughter in the dead queen"s vacant place, And he thought: "She has her mother"s heart; Ay, and her mother"s grace; Great love through channels will find its surest way.
It waits not state occasions, which may not come or may; It comforts and it blesses, hour by hour, and day by day."
CHAPTER XXII.
A VARIETY OF CAKES EVOLVED FROM ONE