THE LINEN CLOSET; PANTRIES; POLISHING SILVER; THE CARE OF THE
REFRIGERATOR; CLEANING THE LAMPS

"I think," said the Pretty Aunt one day, "we must be coming to the end
of the Saturday morning lessons. We have had the kitchen and
dining-room, the bedrooms, halls, and parlors, the bathroom, cellar,
attic, and vestibule. I really can't think of anything else to teach
Margaret about the care of the house."

"Why," exclaimed the Other Aunt, "I can! I can think of five or six
things you have not said a word about; all important ones, too!"

"How nice!" laughed the Pretty Aunt, "because now you can give the
lesson!"

Margaret had felt disappointed when she thought the lessons were over,
for she liked to learn something new each week; so when she was told to
put on a clean apron and be ready in half a minute, she ran off in a
hurry.

Her aunt was in the upper hall when she appeared, with the door of the
linen closet open, and she told Margaret they would begin here.

"This little room is the one good housekeepers are especially fond of,"
she began. "Clean, white linen, polished and beautiful, is a joy to look
at and handle, and every woman is proud if she has a quantity, all
nicely kept. Let us begin with the shelves, taking them in order, and
see what is on each."

The top one held blankets, each pair folded together smoothly and pinned
up in a clean, strong piece of white cotton cloth, and labelled. The
first label read, "Guest-room blankets," and when they were opened there
lay a fresh, soft, fleecy pair, with a lovely border of pale pink, and
edges of broad pink ribbon.

"This is your mother's very best pair of blankets," began her aunt.
"They are cut in two and bound alike at each end, you see; they have
never been washed or cleaned yet, so they are still very white and soft.
By and by they will begin to look a little soiled, and then they will be
cleaned perhaps, once or twice, and presently they will be washed, and
they will not be nearly as nice as they are now, though well-washed
blankets should still be fleecy and white."

"'Soft, warm water, with suds of white soap,'" murmured Margaret,
reviewing her laundry lesson; "'rub with your hands, rinse in the same
sort of water as you used in washing, with a little borax or ammonia,
and they will look like new.'"

"Splendid!" said her aunt. "I see you can wash blankets to perfection.
But even so, some day there will be new ones for the guest-room, and
these wil