the corn-bread tray, and the cup-noggin. Above, the log
wall bristled with knives of varying edge, stuck in the cracks; with
nails whereon hung flesh-forks, spoons, ladles, skimmers. These were for
the most part hand-wrought, by the local blacksmith. The forks in
particular were of a classic grace--so much so that when, in looking
through my big sister's mythology I came upon a picture of Neptune with
his trident, I called it his flesh-fork, and asked if he were about to
take up meat with it, from the waves boiling about his feet.

The kitchen proper would give Domestic Science heart failure, yet it
must have been altogether sanitary. Nothing about it was tight enough to
harbor a self-respecting germ. It was the rise of twenty feet square,
built stoutly of hewn logs, with a sharply pitched board roof, a movable
loft, a plank floor boasting inch-wide cracks, a door, two windows and a
fireplace that took up a full half of one end. In front of the fireplace
stretched a rough stone hearth, a yard in depth. Sundry and several
cranes swung against the chimney-breast. When fully in commission they
held pots enough to cook for a regiment. The pots themselves, of cast
iron, with close-fitting tops, ran from two to ten gallons in capacity,
had rounded bottoms with three pertly outstanding legs, and ears either
side for the iron pot-hooks, which varied in size even as did the pots
themselves.

Additionally there were ovens, deep and shallow, spiders, skillets, a
couple of tea-kettles, a stew kettle, a broiler with a long
spider-legged trivet to rest on, a hoe-baker, a biscuit-baker, and
waffle-irons with legs like tongs. Each piece of hollow ware had its
lid, with eye on top for lifting off with the hooks. Live coals, spread
on hearth and lids, did the cooking. To furnish them there was a wrought
iron shovel, so big and heavy nobody but Mammy herself could wield it
properly. Emptied vessels were turned upside down on the floor under the
Long Shelf--grease kept away rust. But before one was used it had to be
scoured with soap and sand rock, rinsed and scalded. Periodically every
piece was burned out--turned upside down over a roaring fire and left
there until red hot, then slowly cooled. This burning out left a fine
smooth surface after scouring. Cast iron, being in a degree porous,
necessarily took up traces of food when it had been used for cooking a
month or so.

Ah me! What savors, what flavors came out of the pots! Years on