Cucumbers Then and Now

It’s been awhile since I have commented on Mrs. Child’s book, the Frugal American Housewife. It’s time to remedy that lapse. On page 18 she continues her advice for the 1830 housewife:

“It is thought to be a preventive to the unhealthy influence of cucumbers to cut the slices very thin, and drop each one into cold water as you cut it. A few minutes in the water takes out a large portion of the slimy matter, so injurious to health. They should be eaten with high seasoning.”

Now, I don’t know that I’ve really thought about the “slimy substance” before. I guess the jelly-like stuff around the seeds could be called slimy though. And don’t you wonder how the cucumber gained the reputation for being injurious to your health?

In my grandparents day cucumbers were always served peeled. Jim’s grandmother, Mertie Donoho Greenwalt said that the “peelings would kill ‘ya!” She would be appalled to see sliced cucumbers served with a rim of dark green peeling still on them.

I don’t know what Mrs. Child meant by “high seasoning,” but I know that most of the people in days gone by sliced cucumbers and onions into a brine of vinegar, salt and water. Some added sugar, but our family didn’t. For years my husband wouldn’t eat a raw cucumber, but he loved the brined ones his mother made.

Have you noticed that vegetables today that are often eaten raw would never have been served uncooked in the first half the 20th Century? Think about broccoli, asparagus, mushrooms, cauliflower, and squash. Today we eat them raw as often as we eat them cooked. How times have changed!

Well Water

“In winter, always set the handle of your pump as high as possible, before you go to bed. Except in very rigid weather, this keeps the handle from freezing. When there is reason to apprehend extreme cold do not forget to throw a rug or horse-blanket over your pump; a frozen pump is a comfortless preparation for a winter’s breakfast.” (Mrs. Child in American Frugal Housewife)

When I grew up in New Boston, we got our water from a pump. It stood on the lot line between our house and the neighbors’ so it was used by both. I remember how you had to work the handle up and down several times before it would start to bring up water, and I always worried that it wouldn’t work this time. Once you had the water coming, each time the handle was pushed down, water would gush from the spout into the bucket. It was beautiful!

And the water was the best I’ve ever tasted. New Boston sits on sand and near the Mississippi River. I don’t think the well was very deep at all, and all the sand served as a strainer and purifier, I guess. I wish that I had that kind of water in my house today!

Our well water was terrific, BUT you had to go get it, pump it, and bring the bucket back to the house. I like to think that I was in charge of bringing in the bucket every day, but I doubt if that was true. I got away with doing very few chores. Nevertheless it was common for Grandma to say, “Karen, go get a bucket of water,” and I don’t remember ever getting out of it.

Hygiene wasn’t the same then as it is now. The white enamel bucket sat on the corner of the counter with a long-handled enamel dipper placed in it. When you were thirsty, you drank right from the dipper. Sounds like everyone drinking from the same dipper is a nasty, dirty practice, but I don’t think we were any more likely to share germs that way than we were by living in the same enclosed airspace.

The place where that well was located is now in the middle of a carwash. I can't go back to get another drink of that wonderful water. Oh well.

On Raising Children

Mrs. Child author of The American Frugal Housewife (pub 1833) sets out a way of life that seems just right. She tells me to save, knit, and quilt. On page one she also tells how to raise children:

“In this country, we are apt to let children romp away their existence, till they get to be thirteen or fourteen. This is not well. It is not well for the purses and patience of parents; and it has a still worse effect on the morals and habits of children. Begin early is the great maxim for everything in education. A child of six years old can be made useful; and should be taught to consider every day lost in which some little thing has not been done to assist others.”

I have always worked under the principle that I didn’t ask someone to do a task that I didn’t like to do my self. Since I have always hated doing dishes, I didn’t ask my kids to do them. Since I didn’t like to clean the cat litter pan, I didn’t ask my kids to do that either. There’s a long, long list of things I didn’t make my children do, and I’m sorry that I didn’t read Mrs. Child 45 years ago. The best I can do now is to give this good advice to my children for the benefit of the grandchildren. I only hope they will follow Mrs. Child’s maxims and not my example.