er. She can have a good table only by
having practical knowledge, and tact in imparting it. If she
understands her business practically and experimentally, her eye
detects at once the weak spot; it requires only a little tact, some
patience, some clearness in giving directions, and all comes right. I
venture to say that your mother would have exactly such bread as
always appears on our table, and have it by the hands of your cook,
because she could detect and explain to her exactly her error."

"Do you know," said my wife, "what yeast she uses?"

"I believe," said Marianne, "it's a kind she makes herself. I think I
heard her say so. I know she makes a great fuss about it, and rather
values herself upon it. She is evidently accustomed to being praised
for her bread, and feels mortified and angry, and I don't know how to
manage her."

"Well," said I, "if you carry your watch to a watchmaker, and
undertake to show him how to regulate the machinery, he laughs and
goes on his own way; but if a brother-machinist makes suggestions, he
listens respectfully. So, when a woman who knows nothing of woman's
work undertakes to instruct one who knows more than she does, she
makes no impression; but a woman who has been trained experimentally,
and shows she understands the matter thoroughly, is listened to with
respect."

"I think," said my wife, "that your Bridget is worth teaching. She is
honest, well-principled, and tidy. She has good recommendations from
excellent families, whose ideas of good bread, it appears, differ from
ours; and with a little good-nature, tact, and patience, she will come
into your ways."

"But the coffee, mamma,--you would not imagine it to be from the same
bag with your own, so dark and so bitter; what do you suppose she has
done to it?"

"Simply this," said my wife. "She has let the berries stay a few
moments too long over the fire,--they are burnt, instead of being
roasted; and there are people who think it essential to good coffee
that it should look black, and have a strong, bitter flavor. A very
little change in the preparing will alter this."

"Now," said I, "Marianne, if you want my advice, I'll give it to you
gratis: make your own bread for one month. Simple as the process
seems, I think it will take as long as that to give you a thorough
knowledge of all the possibilities in the case; but after that you
will never need to make any more,--you will be able to command good
bread by the aid of