Rensselaer Union, Volume 6, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 July 1874 — Cleaning the Cellar. [ARTICLE]

Cleaning the Cellar.

Now, we do not imagine that in the whole country there is but one thoroughly renovated cellar, but thousands of them, if you busy people would only tell us about them; so we may be pardoned for alluding to the way ours is made suitable for dairy purposes. One day a neighbor caught us down cellar, right in the midst of our cleaning in a part of the house which we have come to regard as more essential to the well-being of the family than the parlor; and while we were giving the timbers overhead and the nicely-painted walls a good coat of whitewash she expressed her surprise that anybody should be so foolish. “Don’t you have enough whitewashing to do up-stairs? Is so much extra work necessary?” We mildly answered “yes” to the first query, and emphatically “ yes” to the last, for in lieu ’of a cool room above ground the cellar was to be our milk room during the heat of summer, so no unpleasant odor must linger to taint cream or butter. Our work was soon finished, and the freshly-scoured milk racks and tables were in place, when two comical figures, mistress and maid, emerged from the cellar, well pleased with their half-day’s work. After tea our friend followed us down the stairway, and rewarded us with the following comment: “ How cool and light it seems! Why, I should like to stay 'here and skim the milk myself.” , This approval from the skeptic of an hour or two ago was quite encouraging, and here is the programme from beginning to end: In the spring, just as soon as the weather will permit, the window? and outside cellar door are opened, and all the decaying vegetables, as well as empty barrels and bins< are carried out. When it is warm enough to remove the roots to some out-building the men folks

again lend us a helping hand, and the rest of the boards and boxes are piled up somewhere out of doors for further use. Nothing is left that can harbor, mold or undue moisture, not even the vinegar barrel and jugs. Only the rubbish on the cellar bottom reminds us of the generous store of good things that went down in November; and when the last vestige of that is borne away by stout hands we dismiss our knights of the hoe with thanks, for the rest of the task is comparatively easy. First, there is a thorough sweeping overhead, down the walls, and about the grates in the windows and upper half Of the doors; then the gravelly ground, which by use has become almost as smooth and hard as a floor, gets several sweepings, till we are quite sure that no decaying matter hides in the soil, when Bridget carries the disabled spiders and scrapings off to some far-away place. . After some dry lime, such as we find "partially slaked among the lumps, has been sprinkled on the ground close to the walls and in the entrance to the drain, we are ready for whitewashing. Providing ourselves with an old brush (for the process is damaging to a new one) and a kettle of whitewash made of fresh lime, a handful of salt and sufficient boiling water to allow the mixture to be spread on the stones, we give the boards and sleepers above, and every stone and crevice in the wall, a generous brushing. By the time they are dry and the air is purified by the action of the lime the cellar is perfectly sweet and clean, and we aim to keep it so. If milk is spilled, it is wiped up immediately, and occasionally dry lime is sprinkled under the racks to prevent mold. With everything banished from the room that could impart an unpleasant odor, we spend many cheerful summer hours in our dairy.— Lee, in Rural New Yorker.