“It was baking-day, and so it could not have been a Sunday. In a big ‘jowl’ of earthenware--that was the local word for it--a batch of dough was set before a fire to rise. It had a clean cloth spread over it, and the dough had been slashed across and across with a knife. Somebody said the sign of the cross was made to keep the devil out of the bread. There was a vague wonder at that, but it soon died. A portion of the dough was used to make what were called ‘rough-and-ready cakes.’ Dripping was rolled into the dough, and it was sprinkled with sugar and currants. Then it was pulled into all manner of rough shapes, so as to bake with crisp edges, and was put on a greased dripping-pan into an oven. The cakes were served hot with new milk, and made a regal feast.”
A cook of roughly the same moment, setting down the same dish.
It is almost impossible to shape and raise rolls for an early breakfast, but if one have a cold room or a refrigerator the rolls can be put in the pan the night before, and they will then be ready to bake for breakfast. Reserve about a pint and a half of the risen bread dough and work into it a tablespoonful of butter or lard. Put the dough in a bowl; cover it with a plate and place the bowl in the refrigerator or in a cold room. In the evening shape the dough into rolls and rub a little soft butter over them. Cover the pan closely, but leave ample room for the rolls to rise; then put in the refrigerator or cold room. Bake in the morning in a moderately hot oven for half an hour.
Sources: The passage is from David Christie Murray, Despair's Last Journey, free to read in full at Project Gutenberg. The recipe is from Parloa, Miss Parloa's Young Housekeeper of 1893, also free in full. Both are in the public domain in the United States. The binding above is ours — ochre cloth, sheaf stamp.