from dampness,
which meant ruin.

If you had a fond and extravagant grandmother, you were almost sure to
have also a clove apple. That is to say, a fine firm winter apple, stuck
as full of cloves as it could hold, then allowed to dry very, very
slowly, in air neither hot nor cold. The cloves banished decay--their
fragrance joined to the fruity scent of the apple, certainly set off
things kept in the drawer with the apple. The applemakers justified
their extravagance--cloves cost money, then as now--by asserting a
belief in clove apples as sovereign against mildew or moths--which may
have had a color of reason.

The quince tree is the clown of the orchard, growing twisted and
writhing, as though hating a straight line. Notwithstanding, its fruit,
and the uses thereof, set the hall mark of housewifery. Especially in
the matter of jelly-making and marmalade. Further a quince pudding is in
the nature of an experience--so few have ever heard of it, so much fewer
made or tasted it. The making requires very ripe quinces--begin by
scrubbing them clean of fuzz, then set them in a deep pan, cover, after
adding a tablespoonful of water, and bake slowly until very soft. Scrape
out the pulp, throw away cores and skin. To a pint of pulp take four
eggs, beat the yolks light with three cups of sugar and a cup of creamed
butter, add the quince pulp, a little mace broken small or grated
nutmeg, then half a cup of cream, and the egg-whites beaten stiff. Bake
in a deep pan, and serve hot with hard or wine sauce.

Here are some fine points of jelly-making learned in that long ago. To
make the finest, clearest jelly, cook but little at a time. A large
kettleful will never have the color and brightness of two or three
glasses. Never undertake to make jelly of inferior fruit--that which is
unripe or over-ripe, or has begun to sour. Wash clean, and
drain--paring is not only waste work, but in a measure lessens flavor.
Put a little water with the fruit when you begin cooking it--cook rather
slowly so there shall be no scorching, and drain out rather than press
out the juice. Draining is much freer if the fruit is spread thin,
rather than dumped compactly in a bag. Double cheese cloth sewed fast
over stout wire, and laid on top of a wide bowl, makes a fine jelly
drainer--one cheap enough to be thrown away when discolored. A
discolored bag, by the way, makes jelly a bit darker. If there is no
pressure flannel is not required.

Plenty as frui