CHAPTER III
JACK'S SCHOOL-LUNCHEONS
"Mother," said Jack, one evening, "I'd like to take my lunch to school for the next few weeks; all the fellows are going to, so we can have more time for class elections and so on. Do you suppose Norah could put up one for me every morning?"
"Why not let Mildred put it up? Her school is so near that she does not have to start till long after you do; and then, Jack, you could easily pay her for her trouble by helping her with her Latin; you know she is bothered with that just now."
Mildred was overjoyed at the suggestion of the bargain. "Oh, Jack! I'll do you up the most beautiful luncheons in the world if you will only help me with that horrid Cæsar. I'm just as stupid as I can be about it. What do you like best to eat in all the world?"
Jack said he wasn't very particular as long as he had plenty of pie and cake and pickles and pudding and ice-cream; Mildred laughed, and said she guessed she could manage to think up a few other things beside.
So the very next morning she put up the first luncheon. But, alas, Norah had no cold meat to slice – only bits of beefsteak left from dinner; and not a single piece of cake. All she could find for lunch was some plain bread and butter, which she cut rather thick, a hard-boiled egg, and an apple. "Pretty poor," she sighed, as she saw him trudge off with the box under his arm.
That afternoon, when she came home from school, she went to Mother Blair for help. "I must give him nice luncheons," she explained. "Now what can I have for to-morrow? I can't think of anything at all, except bread and cake, and stupid things like those."
"Oh, there are lots and lots of things," said her mother. "Putting up lunches is just fun! I only wish you would do up some for me, too! And first, dear, you had better see that there is plenty of bread, because it takes a good deal for sandwiches, and it must not be too fresh to slice nicely, nor too stale; day-old bread is best. And if you can find some brown bread as well as white, that will be ever so nice. You will want cake, too, and fruit; you might ask Norah what she has on hand."
In a moment, Mildred came back with the news that, as there was to be fish for dinner, there would be no left-over meat at all in the morning; the bits of steak were still there. "But imagine beefsteak sandwiches!" said she, scornfully. And though there was no cake now, Norah was going to make some.
"I think we had better learn first how to make all kinds of sandwiches, because that will help you more than anything else in putting up lunches," her mother said, getting out her cook-book. "You will need some paraffin paper for them, too, and paper napkins; suppose you look on the top shelf of the kitchen closet and see if we had any left over from summer picnics."
By the time Mildred had found these, as well as a box to pack the lunch in, these receipts were all ready for her to copy in her own book:
SANDWICHES
Use bread that is at least a day old. Spread the butter smoothly on the loaf; if it is too cold to spread well, warm it a little; slice thin, with a sharp knife; spread one slice with the filling, lay on another, press together, and trim off the heavy part of the crust; cut in two pieces, or, if the slices are very large, in three. Put two or three sandwiches of the same kind together, and wrap in paraffin paper.
MEAT SANDWICHES
Take any cold meat, cut off the gristle and fat, and put it through the meat chopper. Add a pinch of salt, a pinch of dry mustard, a shake of pepper, and, last, a teaspoonful of melted butter; press into a cup, and put away to grow firm.
"Now you see the nice thing about this rule is, that any sort of cold meat will do to use, and if you have bits of two or more kinds, you can use them together. There are those beefsteak ends; all you have to do is to follow your rule, and they will make as good sandwiches as anything else."
"But, Mother, if you had nice roast-beef slices, you would not chop those up, would you?"
"No, indeed! I would make sandwiches of plain bread and butter and put the slices of meat in by themselves. But chopped meat makes better sandwiches than slices of meat between bread."
"But what do you make sandwiches out of if you don't use meat? I think plain bread and butter is horrid for lunches."
"Oh, there are plenty of other things to use; see, here are your next rules:"
EGG SANDWICHES
1 hard-boiled egg, chopped fine.
1 teaspoonful of oil.
3 drops of vinegar.
1 pinch of salt.
1 shake of pepper.
Mix well and spread on buttered bread.
"And then sometimes you can have:"
CHEESE SANDWICHES
Spread thin buttered brown bread with cream cheese; sprinkle with a very little salt and pepper. Sometimes add chopped nuts for a change.
"Or, here are these:"
LETTUCE SANDWICHES
Spread some very thin white bread; lay on a leaf of lettuce; sprinkle with a very little oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper, as in the egg sandwiches.
SARDINE SANDWICHES
Drain off all the oil from a little tin of sardines; skin each fish, take out the bones, and mash smoothly, adding a teaspoonful of lemon juice; spread on white buttered bread.
"And then, when you have no cake or cookies for lunch, you can have two or three sandwiches with meat and two more like these:"
SWEET SANDWICHES
Spread buttered bread with a very little jam or jelly; or with chopped dates or figs; or with scraped maple sugar; or with chopped raisins and nuts; or with a thick layer of brown sugar.
"Those are just as good as cake, and better, I think," said Mother Blair, as Mildred finished copying them all down. "And now, what comes next in a lunch, after sandwiches?"
"Cake," said Mildred, promptly.
"Yes, sometimes, but not always. What else can you think of that would be nice?"
Mildred said she thought gingerbread might be good, or perhaps doughnuts; but she could not think of anything else.
"Oh, I can think of ever so many things," said her mother. "But we will put down the gingerbread first; and, by the way, what do you think Betty calls it? This:"
"PERFECTLY LOVELY" GINGERBREAD
1 cup of molasses.
1 cup of shortening (butter and lard mixed).
3 cups of flour.
1 teaspoonful each of cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and soda.
1 cup of sugar.
2 eggs.
1 cup of milk.
Cream the butter and sugar, add the eggs, well beaten without separating, then the molasses mixed with the spices and soda, then the flour, then the milk. Stir and beat well. Put in a shallow tin and bake slowly.
"Things don't sound as good as they taste, do they?" said Mildred, as she read the receipt over. "I just love gingerbread, but butter and lard and soda don't sound appetizing."
"Well, then, try this," laughed Mother Blair; "every bit of this sounds good:"
PEANUT WAFERS
1 cup of sugar.
½ cup of milk.
½ teaspoonful of soda.
½ cup of butter.
2 cups of flour.
1 cup of chopped peanuts.
Cream the butter and sugar; put the soda in the milk, stir thoroughly, and put in next; then the flour. Beat well. Grease a shallow pan and spread the mixture evenly over the bottom, and scatter the nuts on top. Bake till light brown, and cut in squares while warm.
"Oh, those do sound good!" Mildred exclaimed, as she wrote the last words down.
"What sounds good?" asked Miss Betty's voice, as her pretty head popped in the door. So they told her all about the luncheons, and she said she knew some good things, too, and the first one was:
CHOCOLATE CRACKERS
2 squares of chocolate.
1 teaspoonful of sugar.
Butter, the size of the tip of your thumb.
3 drops of vanilla.
Cut the chocolate up into bits and put it in a saucer over the tea-kettle; when it melts, add the sugar and butter and vanilla; stir, and drop in some small crackers, only one at a time, and lay them on a greased paper to dry.
"Oh, Mother, I've just got to stop writing and make some of those this very minute!" Mildred exclaimed. Miss Betty said she had lots of things she wanted to talk over with Mother Blair while Mildred was busy. Brownie came running in just then, and the two girls worked so fast they had a whole plateful of crackers done in no time; and after everybody had had one apiece to eat, Mildred said: "Now, I will learn to make some more things."
"Let me see," said her mother, slowly. "Sandwiches and cake – what else can you think of for luncheons, Betty?"
"Deviled eggs," said Miss Betty, as quick as a flash. "Please let me tell how!"
DEVILED EGGS
Boil three eggs for ten minutes; peel them, cut them in halves, and put the yolks in a bowl; add
¼ teaspoonful of salt.
¼ teaspoonful of dry mustard.
1 pinch of pepper.
1 teaspoonful of oil.
½ teaspoonful of vinegar.
Mix well, fill the whites, press smooth with a knife, and put two halves together.
"But three eggs are too many for Jack," complained Brownie. "He won't need three; can't I have one for my lunch here?"
Miss Betty laughed, and said it would be easy for Mildred to make enough for everybody instead of making three, as the rule said.
"If I just made one, I suppose I'd take pinches instead of teaspoonfuls," said Mildred, thoughtfully. "I mean, I'd take just a little of everything, enough to make the egg taste good?"
"Exactly!" said Miss Betty; "that is just the way a real grown-up cook does. And, Mildred, when I had to take my lunch to school, I used to have the best thing – salad. I had it when there were no real sandwiches, only bread and butter; it was put in a little round china jar with a tin top that screwed on, so it never spilled. But perhaps Jack doesn't like salad."
"He just loves it," said Brownie; "he loves every single thing to eat that there is!"
"Then he will surely 'just love' these things! Write them down, Mildred."
CHICKEN SALAD
½ cup of cold chicken, cut in small bits.
½ a hard boiled egg, cut up.
Or use celery in place of the egg, or use both.
FRENCH DRESSING
2 teaspoonfuls of oil.
¼ teaspoonful vinegar.
1 pinch of salt
2 shakes of pepper (paprika is best).
Beat the dressing well and mix with the chicken and egg.
Make more dressing if the salad is too dry.
LUNCHEON FRUIT SALAD
Cut a seedless orange in halves; take out the pulp with a spoon; use alone, or mix with bits of banana or other fruit; or use chopped celery and apple together. Add the dressing.
"There!" said Miss Betty, triumphantly, as Mildred read the receipts aloud when she had copied them. "If Jack doesn't like those, he isn't the boy I take him for. And you see, Mildred, when you have no salad for him, you can sometimes put in a nice stalk of celery; and when you have had the same fruit over and over, you can just give him a fruit salad. I do believe I'll start on a long journey and take a whole week's supply of lunches along. All these receipts make me feel just like it!"
"Oh, do let me go too," begged Mildred.
"So you shall," laughed Miss Betty. "But before we start, I must tell you one thing more: if you want an ab-so-lute-ly perfect lunch, you must always have a surprise for the very last thing of all."
"How do you make one?" asked Brownie, curiously.
"Oh, you don't make them at all, or at least not usually; a surprise is something which has to be eaten last of all, after all the sandwiches and other things are gone, for a sort of dessert; sometimes I had a piece of maple-sugar, or a bit of sweet chocolate, or a couple of marshmallows; sometimes it was a fig or two, or a few dates. But it was always hidden down in the very bottom of the box, and everything had to be finished up before I opened the little paper it was in. Honestly, I don't think boys need surprises at all, because they will eat everything up any way, but often girls will skip a sandwich or two, unless they know about the surprise."
"When I take my lunch, I shall have one every time," said Brownie.
"So shall I," laughed Mother Blair.
"I shall certainly give Jack one every day, because of Cæsar," said Mildred.
The next morning bright and early, Mildred hurried to get Jack's luncheon all ready before breakfast, and her mother said she would help her, just for once. First they made three beautiful thin sandwiches out of bread and butter spread with the nice beefsteak filling, and wrapped these up by themselves and put them in one corner of the box; then in the opposite corner went the surprise, this time four little chocolate crackers, all wrapped up carefully; on top of them, to hide them, went three more sandwiches, made of brown bread and butter and cheese; then the deviled egg filled the corner on top of the other pile, and one of Norah's cakes was put opposite.
"Now for the fruit," said Mother Blair. "What is there?"
Mildred said there was an orange, but it would not go in the box.
"Oh, you don't give anybody an orange whole for luncheon! Peel it first, then break it carefully in halves, wrap each half up in paper by itself, and you will see how well it fits in and how easy it will be to eat when you have no fruit-knife or orange-spoon to use with it. Now that is all, and it's what I call a perfectly delicious luncheon, don't you?"
"Perfectly!" said Mildred, rapturously, as she tied up the box. "I guess the other boys will wish they had lunches just exactly like it; and I think it's very interesting to do them up, too."
That afternoon, when Jack came home from school, he shouted up the stairs:
"Say, Mildred, what will you take to do up lunches for the crowd? They told me to ask you. They said they had never seen anything so good. Where is that Cæsar? I'll do about ten pages for you if you want me to."
When the lesson was over, Mildred hugged Jack gratefully. "I can do it alone in no time now, because you're such a good teacher," she said, as Jack squirmed away. "And, when summer comes, just think of all the picnic lunches I can do up for everybody!"
"We won't wait till summer for a picnic," said Mother Blair. "I've got such a bright idea!"
CHAPTER IV
THE BIRTHDAY PICNIC
Just as Mother Blair declared that she had "such a bright idea!" a caller came in, and it was dinner-time before Mildred had a chance to ask her what it was. And then her mother put her finger on her lip and shook her head; so Mildred knew, of course, that it was a secret, and waited till later on to hear what it was.
"Now I will tell you all about it," Mother Blair said, after she had read Brownie a fairy story and tucked her up for the night. "Jack, you can hear, too, and Father, if he wants to." So they all drew up around the fire to listen.
"You remember how much Brownie loved the picnics we had last summer," she began. "She used to say that she would rather eat plain bread and butter out of doors than ice-cream in the dining-room; and whenever we took our supper and went off for the afternoon, she was so happy!"
"So she was," said Father Blair. "Brownie is her father's own daughter; I love picnics too."
"But, Mother, we can't have a picnic at this time of year!" exclaimed Mildred. "Just listen to the rain and snow coming down together this minute; and the slush on the sidewalk is so deep you have to wade to school."
"But this is just where my bright idea comes in! You see, next week will be Brownie's birthday, and every year since she was two, she has had some sort of a party; now this year, for a real change, I think it would be fun to have a picnic for her, a lovely in-door picnic, for ten boys and girls; and we'll have it up in the attic!"
"Isn't that just like Mother!" Jack exclaimed, laughing. "Who else in the world would ever have thought of such a thing!"
"But think what fun it will be!" Mother Blair went on, her cheeks growing pink as she explained all about it. "The attic is nice and large, and empty except for the trunks and old furniture which are tucked away around the eaves. The children will all come in their every-day clothes, and wear their coats and hats, so they won't take cold up there. And we can spread down in the middle of the open space the two old green parlor carpets, for grass; they are all worn out, but nobody will notice that. And then, Jack, you can carry up the two palms and the rubber plant, and put them on the edge of the 'grass,' and Farmer Brown can bring us in some little cedar-and spruce-trees from the woods the next time he drives to town, and we will plant them in sand in big earthen flower-pots, and stand those around, too. Can't you see how lovely it will be? Just like a little grassy grove!"
Everybody laughed, but everybody thought it was going to be great fun to make a picnic-place in the attic.
"And we will tie a hammock to the rafters," said Father Blair; "and there is the old ping-pong set to play with, and the ring-toss; and the boys can play ball, if they choose; there's nothing they can hurt."
And so it was all arranged; and Brownie was told she was going to have a beautiful surprise for her birthday, and she must not ask a single question about it. Mother Blair asked ten boys and girls to come at twelve on Saturday and spend the rest of the day, and, after the notes were sent, she and Mildred began to plan the luncheon.
"Of course all the things must be packed in baskets," said Mildred, "exactly like a regular picnic."
"Of course!" said her mother. "And in one basket we will put a lunch cloth to lay on the 'grass,' and wooden plates, and paper napkins, and glasses, and forks. And they can spread the cloth and arrange everything themselves."
"And what will they have to eat? They are sure to be dreadfully hungry."
"Well, there must be one substantial dish to begin with. We might have cold sliced ham, of course, but I think perhaps they would like something else better. Suppose we have veal loaf?"
"Just the very thing," said Mildred. "May I make it?"
"Of course you may, and everything else as well, if you want to. If you will get your book, you can write down the receipts this minute. Here is the first:"
VEAL LOAF
2 pounds of veal, chopped fine.
¼ pound of salt pork, chopped with it.
½ cup of bread crumbs, soaked in milk.
1 egg.
1 teaspoonful of chopped onion.
½ teaspoonful each of pepper and paprika.
1 level teaspoonful of salt.
Have the meats chopped together at the market; put the crumbs in a bowl and cover them with milk, and let them stand for fifteen minutes; then squeeze them dry and add to the meat. Beat the egg without separating it, and mix that in next, and then the seasoning. Stir all together, and put in a bread tin and bake one hour. Have on the stove a cup half full of hot water mixed with two tablespoonfuls of butter, and every fifteen minutes open the oven door and pour a quarter of this over the meat. When done, put in a cold place over night. Slice thin, and put parsley around it.
"You see, this is very easy to make, and it is always good for luncheon for ourselves, and for Sunday night supper as well. You can make it Friday afternoon, and then, by the time for the picnic, it will be ready to slice."
"And what are they to eat with it?"
"I think it would be nice to have some sandwiches – hot ones."
"Hot sandwiches, Mother Blair! I never heard of them. How do you make them?"
"I invented them myself," laughed her mother. "I really did, this very morning, when I was thinking about the picnic. Here is the rule."
TOASTED SARDINE SANDWICHES
1 tin sardines.
8 slices of toast.
½ a lemon.
Large pinch of salt, and as much dry mustard.
Open a can of sardines, drain off the oil, and spread them on brown paper. Scrape off the skin carefully, and open each one on the side and take out the back bone. Sprinkle over them all the salt and mustard, and squeeze the lemon on. Then make the toast, large brown slices, and butter them a little; lay two together, trim off the crust, and cut them in strips. Open the strips, and between each two put one sardine and press together. Put them in the oven between two hot plates till needed.
"Oh, those do sound so good! Can't I make some for lunch to-day, Mother?" Mildred begged.
"But they belong to the surprise! Let's wait till after the picnic, and then you may make lots of them."
"Well!" sighed Mildred, "then let me have another receipt right away, so I'll forget them. I do want to make them so much."
"Here is another receipt you will like just as well; part of it is for the picnic, and part of it is for a little bit of a party for you and Miss Betty and me, while the picnic is going on upstairs."
"A party for us? What kind of a party?"
"Lovely grown-up afternoon tea!" laughed her mother. "You can invite Miss Betty yourself won't that be nice?"
"Perfectly lovely! Do tell faster!"
"Well, first you make for the picnic some sweet sandwiches like those we planned for the school lunches; these are simply, to begin with:"
ORANGE MARMALADE SANDWICHES
Spread thin white bread and butter with orange marmalade; trim off the crusts and cut into even shapes; a round cooky cutter makes pretty sandwiches.
"I've made those for Jack, lots of times," said Mildred, as she wrote this down, "only I didn't cut them in round shapes, because boys don't care about that."
"No," said her mother, smiling, "boys don't, but girls do! So make part of these in rounds, and put them away, and send the square ones upstairs. And when it's time for our party, just toast ours quickly, and you will find them the most delicious things you ever ate, especially with tea; that's what we three will have."
"Those will be Miss Betty's surprise!" laughed Mildred, as she wrote down the word toasted after the title of the sandwiches. "Now what next?"
"Suppose you try some very easy cookies; those are just the thing for a picnic; you can make them Saturday morning, and then they will be fresh. Here is the rule:"
SPICY COOKIES
Sprinkle the baking board with flour and rub it smoothly over; do the same to the rolling-pin, and scatter a little flour evenly also over the bottom of some shallow tins. Have a panful of sifted flour ready on the table, as you may need to do this several times.
¾ cup of sugar.
3 tablespoonfuls of butter.
6 tablespoonfuls of milk.
1 egg.
1½ cups of flour.
¼ teaspoonful of soda.
¼ teaspoonful of salt.
1 tablespoonful of hot water.
¼ teaspoonful of cloves.
¼ teaspoonful of cinnamon.
Melt the butter, add the sugar, and rub together. Beat the egg without separating, and put in next. Mix the soda and hot water, put the milk with this; put the salt in the flour; add part of the flour to the sugar and other things, and then part of the milk, and so on; then put in the spices and stir all together. Put the dough on the board, roll it out thin, and with a cutter mark it all over; then lift out the pieces with a cake turner, very carefully, and arrange them in your pans, but do not let them touch. Bake fifteen minutes; take them out of the pans while warm, and spread out on a platter to cool.
"Dear me, that sounds pretty hard!" said Mildred, as she finished.
"Cookies are not quite as easy to make as some other things, but they are so good, so nice for luncheon and suppers and other times, that I think you will be glad to know how to make them. And Father is so fond of cookies!"
"So he is. Well, Mother, I'll try them. And now what comes next?"
"Some cunning, easy little cakes, so easy that next time Brownie can make them herself. They are called:"
MARGUERITES
20 round, thin crackers.
20 marshmallows.
2 tablespoonfuls of chopped nuts.
2 teaspoonfuls of butter.
Butter the crackers on one side, just a little; put a marshmallow on each, a tiny bit of butter on it, and a sprinkle of chopped nuts of any kind. Put them in a shallow pan, and bake till they are soft and brown; eat while fresh and warm.
"Oh, lovely! Mother, I must have some of the girls in and have those for myself!"
"So you shall, any day you want to. Now don't you think that is almost enough for the picnic?"
"I think we ought to have something to finish off with – to eat with the cookies and marguerites; don't you think so?"
"Yes, I do; something in the way of fruit. Suppose we give them this – it is much nicer than plain oranges or bananas; write it down, dear."
ORANGE BASKETS
6 large oranges.
2 bananas.
2 tablespoonfuls of powdered sugar.
Cut the oranges in halves; take out the pulp with a spoon, and put it in a bowl. Scrape out the inside, leaving nice, clean shells, and then scallop or point the edges with the scissors. Peel the bananas, cut them in long, narrow strips, and these into small bits, and mix lightly with the orange, and add the sugar; heap in the baskets and set away to grow cold.
"If we happened to have any pineapple or white grapes in the house, I should put some of those in too; but these will be delicious just as they are. Now anything more?"
"Something to drink with the lunch. I think pink lemonade would be nice."
"Perfectly lovely!" laughed Mother Blair. "We will get a can of raspberries out of the fruit closet, and make something for them that will be ever so good. This is the rule:"
PICNIC LEMONADE
8 lemons.
12 glasses of water.
3 cups of sugar.
1 cup of raspberry juice.
Roll the lemons till they are soft; cut them and squeeze the juice out. Put the sugar in a little pan with a glass of water, and boil it two minutes; add this to the lemon and raspberry juice, and strain it; add the rest of the water; serve with broken ice in a glass pitcher.
"Be sure and boil the sugar and water together, Mildred, whenever you make any kind of drink like lemonade; it is so much better than if you put in plain sugar. When it is all done, if it is not quite sweet enough, you can add a little powdered sugar without hurting it."
"Mother, we forgot the surprise! You remember, 'every luncheon must have a surprise,' you said; see, here it is in the book."
"Dear me, so I did! What shall it be, Mildred? I can't seem to think of another thing for that picnic."
"Neither can I."
"Stuffed dates!" exclaimed Mother Blair, presently. "I knew there must be something, and those will be exactly right."
STUFFED DATES
Wash the dates and wipe them dry. Open one side and take out the stone; in its place press in half a pecan or other nut; close the edges, and roll each date in powdered sugar.
"I do hope there will be some of those over for us," said Mildred, as she put her book away. "Those children are going to have a wonderful lunch!"
Brownie could not imagine what her birthday surprise was to be. She could not help guessing, but she never once was "warm." When Saturday came, and the boys and girls arrived in their every-day clothes and even kept on their wraps in the parlor, she did not know what to think; and there was actually no lunch for them in the dining-room! She began to look very sober.
But when everybody had come, Mother Blair said: "Won't you go upstairs?" and Mildred and Jack ushered them up to the attic.
It was such a lovely surprise! The big green carpets were spread down on the bare floor, and all around were set little green trees in pots. The canary was hung up out of sight, and he was singing as hard as he could. It was not a bit too cold, for the door had been kept open all day and the sun was shining in at the window.
And just then appeared Mother Blair, and Norah, and Jack, and Mildred, all carrying baskets, which they put down on the floor. Then the picnic began!
There was first the cloth to spread down on the grass, and paper plates and napkins to be passed around. The veal loaf was found, a platter of it tied up in a large napkin, and hot sandwiches between hot plates, tied up in another napkin, and marmalade sandwiches folded in paraffin paper by themselves. Last of all were the orange baskets, each one twisted up in a paper napkin with a funny little frill on top made of the ends of the napkin; and the dates were in little square paper boxes, one box for each child.
As they began to eat, Jack came up with a big, big pitcher of beautiful pink lemonade, and little glasses to drink it out of. Oh, such a picnic as it was! Such a perfectly lovely picnic! Out-of-door picnics were nothing to it And when they had eaten up every crumb and drank up every drop, they played games until the attic grew dark; and then they all went home, and the birthday was over.