and anger is outrageous, but who is able to stand the smell of boiling
cabbage? Yes; the kitchen must be separated from the dining-room, and
the more perfect its appointments, the easier is this separation. The
library and the sitting-room are completely divided by a mere curtain,
because each is quiet and well disposed, not inclined to assert its
own rights or invade those of others; but the ordinary kitchen, like
ill-bred people, is constantly doing both. Thomas Beecher proposes to
locate his at the top of the church steeple. That is unnecessary; we
have only to elevate it morally and intellectually, make it orderly,
scientific, philosophical, and the front parlor itself cannot ask a
more amiable and interesting neighbor. As the chief workshop of the
house, the kitchen should be fitted up and furnished precisely as an
intelligent manufacturer would fit up his factory. Every possible
convenience for doing what must be done; a machine for each kind of
work and a place for every machine. Provision for the removal and
utilizing of all waste, for economizing to the utmost all labor and
material. Then if our housekeepers will go to school in earnest,--will
learn their most complicated and responsible profession half as
thoroughly as a mechanic learns a single and comparatively simple
trade,--we shall have a domestic reformation that will bring back
something of the Eden we have lost.

Respectfully yours,

SISTER JANE.

* * * * *

P.S.--Surreptitiously enclosed by Mrs. John.